Hostile Takeover - Page 27

When I stood up, one came in, cuffed me and then I was taken to an interrogation room. Once I was cuffed to the table, the officer left me alone again to wait. Since there was a clock on the wall, I knew that I had been in there for a half an hour before the door opened and in walked Detective Cavanaugh. I relaxed a little because he had been on André’s payroll for years.

“What’s this about, Cavanaugh?”

That was when another cop that I had never seen before walked in behind him.

“No big deal. The detective here just has some questions for you, Black,” Cavanaugh said, and sat down. “I’m just along for the ride on this one.”

“Mr. Black, my name is Detective Kirkland.”

I nodded. “Detective.”

“Before we get started, I need to advise you that you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to me and to have an attorney present during questioning now or in the future. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. If you decide to answer questions now, without an attorney present, you will still have the right to stop answering at any time until you talk to an attorney. Knowing and understanding your rights as I have explained them to you, are you willing to answer my questions without an attorney present?”

He recited the entire speech while he looked me directly in my eyes. I guess that he was trying to intimidate me, make a tough first impression, I don’t know, but I looked directly into his eyes until he was finished reading me my rights.

“What do you want to know?”

“Do you know a man named Butler Griffin?”

“Who?” I asked, and Cavanaugh smiled.

“Maybe you know him by his street name,” Kirkland said. “He’s a pimp they call Silky. You ever hear of him?”

“Yeah, I know Silky. What about him?”

“When was the last time you saw him,” the detective asked.

“I saw him a couple of nights ago. He was slapping one of his hoes around so I stopped him.” I looked at Cavanaugh. “I don’t approve of men putting their hands on a woman.” I turned back to the detective. “I can think of better things to do with a woman than beat her, detective.”

“How did you stop him, Mr. Black?”

“I walked up.”

“Excuse me?”

“When I walked up, he stopped hitting her.”

Kirkland let out a laugh that spoke of his disbelief.

“Why would he stop beating one of his women just because you walked up?”

“I don’t know; you’d have to ask Silky that.”

“I would, but he’s dead. Somebody beat him to death a couple of nights ago. The same night you saw him,” the detective said, and waited for me to say something, which I didn’t. “Nothing to say?”

“Was there a question you wanted me to answer?”

“You don’t have any reaction to that?”

“Rest in peace.”

“Talk on the street is that you threatened to kill Silky,” the detective said.

“To my knowledge, I never said that.”

“Was he alive when you left him?”

“He was.” I laughed. “Probably went right back to slapping that hoe around the second I was gone.”

Tags: Roy Glenn Crime
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