A Dark and Stormy Night

"Did you hear him say things like that to her?"

"Yeah, I did some of the times, other times Kelly would either tell me or a group of people just hanging out. But everyone knew that he was doing that to her. I think that was one of the things that Kelly was trying to do to get him to quit harassing her. Trying to embarrass him in front of other people. Kelly was getting pretty frustrated by this time, she told him no maybe a hundred times. Plus she'd never told him even one single maybe, it was always no, even hell no."

"You have girls always telling you about other boy's pick-up lines."

"No not really, Kelly and I had known each other for a long time, and we were pretty good friends. So we told each other things all the time. What Jimmy was saying to Kelly wasn't pick-up lines, at least nothing like anyone else in high school used."

"You and Kelly are pretty tight, huh. Ever take her out on dates, get intimate with her?"

"Who I get intimate with is none of your business."

"Yeah it is, in this murder investigation it is, especially if I say it is.

"There's no murder investigation here, there's a crime against Kelly and self defense on my part. There's no murder here."

"So you say kid, why don't you just start at the top and tell us all that happened."

"First I want to know if I need a lawyer or not. I think that I want one."

"Nah, we're just talking right now, trying to find out what happened. We'll let you know when you'll need a lawyer. Just tell us everything that happened from your point of view, in your own words."

"No, I think that I want a lawyer. You said this is a murder investigation. Kelly was down with stab wounds and Jimmy is dead, so the only one who could murder anyone is me!"

"Nah kid, I just threw that word out there. We don't know what type of investigation this is going to be so just tell us your story as you saw it."

"NO, you said murder investigation and I want a lawyer and my folks here.

"Hey, let's not get all wound up here. We're just trying to find out what happened.

"No, I want to get a lawyer here. Plus I'd like to get a hold of my folks and have them bring me some clothes so I can clean up. I'd really like to wash Kelly's blood off of me and get into clean clothes. I can't keep sitting here half naked in just boxers and jeans.

"Yeah, we'll get all that stuff taken care of after we get your story and get it signed."

"No, I'm not talking or signing anything until I get that stuff, and a lawyer."

"OK, OK...wait here for a bit we'll get back to you."

So both of them headed for the door, Detective Bert Samuels poked his head back into the room.

"Hey kid, you want a soda, coffee, or water?"

"Yeah, a soda wouldn't be bad."

"You know kid; Ben's not a bad guy, his just trying to get things straight. Getting him mad just is not in your best interest right now. Treat him good and he'll do right by you. Well I'll go get your soda"

I just had to put my head down and shake it. Good cop, bad cop routine has been on every cop show since the 80's. Do they think that every kid under the age of eighteen is stupid? That you're magically gifted with intelligence and maturity at your eighteenth birthday. Then when you reach their age genius level IQ goes along with hair recession.

I tried not to get my hopes up but the longer it took them to get back. The more likely that my folks and a lawyer would be with them. But that ticking hunch part in my brain kept shaking its head no, and letting me know that it wasn't good times coming. With no clock in the room and my phone still at home I couldn't tell time.

But it was over an hour before they came back...alone.

Well now I know that I'm going to have to think hard. Because I don't know 'when' or even 'if' Spalding will let me bring a lawyer in. It all depends on what he wants to get out of these talks. He knows that I'm not going to confess to anything. I don't know if he thinks that he can sit here and play little fucky, fuck games and trick me into incriminating myself. He's got to realize that's such a small possibility. So what's he after? Or maybe I'm giving Spaulding too much intelligence and he's just hoping for a shot in the dark.

But I don't think so...I think that he's after a signature. Something that they can either move or forge onto a confession. Then it's over to either Judge Thorn or Judge Lane, a quick guilty verdict, a rubber stamp. Then I'm on the bus to prison within hours, in prison a favor owed or a favor promised. Some dark corner a club to the head or a shive to the kidney. Then it's an 'eye for an eye' just like it is in hill clan code.

Just how do I get out of the trap? If I can delay long enough to have them give up, maybe due to some kind of outside pressure. Then I'm home free. But if I have to sign something in here I better make damn sure that it's on something that can't be moved. If they're going to forge something there's nothing I can do about that.

"Hey kid, it's been a while so I got you two sodas."

"That Bert he a pretty good guy, right kid?"

"So let's get to that story of what happened last night. Bert here can take notes and write it up for you. Then you can read through it and sign it, and maybe we can get you out of here before the rooster crows."

"Is my folks and a lawyer outside?"

"No, we don't need that, when lawyers get involved that's when shit gets serious and people start getting all mad and stuff. I don't want to get into that kind of talks if we don't have too."

"I want to clean off all this blood and get into some clean clothes, and talk to a lawyer."

"Ah kid, this is not where we need to get with these talks. We just need to keep it between us and friendly. You can understand that can't you kid?"

"Clean clothes, wash water and a lawyer."

"Come on kid...***yak yak yak...

AND we went round and round, me for clothes and a lawyer. Benjamin Spalding for a story and a signature. Round and round surrounded by talk, talk, talk. For at least another hour then they left again and I got two more sodas. It must be at least six or more hours since Kelly was stabbed. So that would put it anywhere close to 4:00am. Plus I think that I've picked up on their next fucky fuck game. Four sodas in three hours and no bathroom break. A little personal cleanliness embarrassment to help hurry things along, a little urgent pressure so to speak. Hey they're back...

"Hey guys, I need a bathroom break."

"Yeah kid, we just need to get this little task of your story out of the way then we'll get a uniform officer to run you to the can."

"Bathroom, clean clothes, wash water, folks and then my lawyer."

And the round and round starts again. I'm beginning to think that they don't have the video and audio running, or they have a supporter manning them. But if they're running and the tape exists they have to show how much I've been asking for a lawyer. To my understanding all questioning has to stop when a lawyer has been requested. Plus I'm under eighteen so I think that my folks have to be here to have anything legal, even a signature, But I've got to piss like a race horse. As I ask again, they step out of the room again.

Well two can play these fucky fuck games. I pull my bare feet up on the chair rung, slide close to the table. With my hands in my lap I unzip my pants, fish out my dick and piss on the floor under the table. I don't think that any of the video cameras can see there. Oh sure, they'll figure it out. I think that I better give them my story, only its most basic form. Then we'll have to see what they want to do about a signature.

I think that I'm going to die of old age in this room. It's got to be over ten hours so far. They're back...

"Hey kid here's a couple more sodas for you."

"Great this is thirsty work."

"OK kid; let's get into this story of what happened last night."

"If I tell you my story will you get my folks and a lawyer?"

"Hey kid, we'll make you happy. All we want is to know what happened out in that field."

"OK, Officer Spalding you win. Here's what happened, I was lying in bed at home when a text pops up on my phone. It's Kelly asking for help at the pond in the field. So I take off running to her. When I get there I find her lying in the grass stabbed twice. Once in the chest and the other on her neck. I try to put pressure on them. But Jimmy tries to hit me on the head with a branch, from behind. So I turn around and my first punch hits his groin. My second punch hits the top of his head. Then I'm trying for a strike with my knee into his waist."

"But he's falling backwards and bent at his waist, so my knee hit's his face and he falls over. Then I go back to taking care of Kelly. I see her phone down in the grass and I use it to call 911 for an ambulance. I go back to putting pressure on Kelly's wounds until the EMT's get there. There, that's what happened."

A couple of knocks on the door a 'come' from Spalding and a uniformed officer hands him a couple of sheets of paper. He takes the time to read them, but he doesn't look too happy about them.

"OK good, Officer Samuels will write this up and after you sign it we might be able to get you out of here."

Out the door they bail.

"Spalding, hey stop, what's on those lab reports?"

"Just get that statement typed up Bert."

"No Ben, cough it up, I need to know what's going on here. You're keeping me in the dark like a damn mushroom. Give over those reports, right now Ben...come on, hand them over. Fuck Ben we aren't leaving this spot until you hand over those sheets."

"Hum...hum, well that's right interesting. This one says that the DNA and the blood type match on the club...er branch match Kevin David Palmer, the boy we got in the room. The other end has skin cells and DNA matching the deceased, one James Paul Lane. This one says that the knife has one set of finger prints on it belonging to the deceased, one James Paul Lane and blood matched to a Kelly Ann Franks."

"This is a dead match to the story we just heard from that kid Kevin."

"HEY...Ben I thought the kid that was killed was a Jimmy Hansen, that's what you told me, Jimmy Hansen. James Lane, Jimmy Hansen, Lane, Hansen...OH FUCK...Ben you're going to get this stuck so far up your ass you'll chew on the end of it. FUCK...FUCK this is a Papa railroad job isn't it...isn't it. YOU STUPID COCKSUCKER BEN. Lane to Hansen, Lane to Hansen...Shit Ben there's only one, that's...that's Jol...AH SHIT Ben they're going to throw you behind bars and throw away the fuckin key. You know that don't you?"

"NO I don't know that, all we got to do is get a signed signature sheet. Tag a confession to it, then get it over to Judge Thorn, he stamps it. Then two hours later he's on the bus to Highgate Prison. Fuckin Chief Jansen's tied up in meetings at the state capital for a week, so he can't fuck it up either."

"What do you have planned for him there Ben? Blackjack to the temple, shive in the back, call in one of Papa's favors and it's a done deal isn't It.? Well Ben, have you really looked at what you're doing, really thought about it. If that was one of your hill county girls with an out of stater trying to rape and kill her. Then this Kevin kid blows him away with a 12 gauge. You'd hang medals on him til the cows come home."

"But let one of your hill county perverts try to rape and kill a girl and her friend stops him and kills him. Then you're going to frame that Innocent kid for murder, put him in prison and bump him off. Just cause it was your pervert that was going to rape and murder. What's the going rate Ben, ten city girls for one gold plated hill county pervert? I remember now, back a little while ago you yourself called Jimmy 'that little pervert'. Now he's some gold plated saint that needs to be avenged. Look and think about what you're doing Ben, you KNOW it's wrong.

"God damn it Bert, he's my Daddy I got to..."

"NO, Ben you don't 'got' to do anything. Sure he's your Daddy; right, wrong, or the devil himself he's your Daddy. But you don't 'have' to follow him to hell. Because that's where this is all going when the shit hit's the fan.

Ah shit...Ben by the look in your eyes I can tell I'm talking to the fence post. You're going to do whatever your 'Daddy' says and whatever that fuckin hillbilly code says to do."

"Well that's it then...we're done Ben, I'm not backing your play anymore. We're splits Ben, I'm not your partner anymore, I'm not your friend anymore either Ben. You're a cop who can't tell right from wrong and don't really care. I'm done, I'm out of here, find your own back-up Ben." Detective Bert Samuels turned and started to walk off down the hallway. Three steps and turned back and walked up to Detective Benjamin Spalding, got nose to nose with him.

"Bennie boy, if you and your Daddy get that innocent kid put in prison and bumped off. I'm coming after you personally and when you're dead. I'll be coming after Papa until he's dead, so you get on the horn and tell him that. Tell him to find some other way to satisfy his ego. Kid goes; he goes, tell him that."

"Oh and one more thing Bennie boy, I'm going to walk down that hallway. If that pistol of yours comes out make sure that the first one kills me dead. Because if it doesn't I'm going to take it away from you, stuff it up your ass and pull the trigger five times. You know that I can and I will. So you got another big decision to make Bennie boy. Pull that pistol and know that the wrath of God is coming straight up your ass."

"Bye now Bennie boy, grow a pair of balls and do the right thing."

By the time they came back I'd added to the puddle under the table. I've been here so long that I'm getting some serious cramps in my legs trying to keep them off the floor. So I got a little kick and walked around on the table top. Did some stretches and a little jog in place stuff, sit ups and pushups, all on the table top of course.

Trying to keep myself awake, this is taking a lot more time than I ever thought it could. Got to give those audio-video guys some laughs, although as long as I've been here I seriously doubt that they've had anyone in there.

When they get back in the room it's just Detective Spalding and a uniform cop.

"Hey where's Officer soda pop?"

"He had to go be with his family. So here's what we typed up from your story. Read through it and sign the second sheet, then we'll see about getting you out of here."

The first sheet all typed out in double spaced was the statement that I'd told them. It wasn't verbatim but it was close enough. The second sheet started with a statement about; this was my statement that I gave it of my own free will, which I read and it was accurate, that it was a true account of the incident in question. Then it had a separate line for my signature and an official looking seal that the bottom.

So I thought to myself that 'here' was the whole purpose for all the fucky fuck games tonight, and why I spend over, maybe way over, sixteen hours in this box of a room, being pumped for information by this dumb hillbilly detective. This single sheet of paper, with one line on it where my name goes.

So I signed it...flipped the first sheet over and quickly wrote five words on it.

Laid it on top of the second sheet and pushed them over to Detective Spalding. He'd watched me write on the back of that sheet, and he didn't like it, and his face let me know that. But he tipped it up and read it, with the uniformed cop reading over his shoulder. Coffee spew from the nose and mouth of the cop.

What I'd wrote said, 'I suck dead dog dicks'. When Spalding looked at the signature sheet his face turned purple inside of two heart beats. The signature read Benjamin Spalding, and the cop couldn't hold in his laughter. Needless to say they went out the door.

They had to believe that I was dead stupid if they thought for even a second that I'd sign a blank check. Because that's what that signature sheet would have been, a blank check. Write out any confession that they wanted too, staple it to the signature sheet. Then I'd be signed, sealed, and delivered.

So I added to the puddle under the table. Then the table top was a stage for jogging in place, sit-ups, and push-ups. Then the next of their fucky fuck games started as the room air conditioner went to max cool. So I added a new wrinkle myself. Standing in Spalding's chair I picked and brushed all of the dried blood off of me that I could.

Damn they had a good air conditioner and me in just boxers and jeans. So into my chair with my legs pulled up and arms wrapped around in as tight a bundle as I could. It was about two hours before they came back in.

"Oh damn, must be something wrong with that thermostat. Sorry about that kid, I'll try to get that fixed. Just as soon as we get your statement witnessed and signed" he pushed two more sheets of paper toward me. "Then we can get you cleaned up and out of here."

Wow, I guess that I'm not only stupid, but I'm a weak wimp that can't stand a little cold. At the knock on the door another Officer stuck his head in and asked to speak to Spalding in the hallway.

"Detective Spalding you're going to have to let this kid go. I got a whole lot of people waiting outside for him; some of them have been there most of the day. Daily News has a reporter and a TV camera out there. But mostly I got the kids parents and a lawyer standing in front of my desk. The lawyer just gave me a release order signed by some State Judge that I've never heard of, and they're screaming bloody murder about civil rights. Plus I got text messages from the Sheriff and the Captain wanting to know what the hell is going on."

"You gotta turn him loose!"

"AH, fuck...fuck...fuck. Stupid, stupid, fuckin kid. Ah...wait a minute...that...that might just work! OK Sergeant give me about a half hour to get him cleaned up and we'll get him out of here."

First thing that I noticed was the air conditioner died. Then Spalding blew in and picked up those two sheets of paper. Addressed the uniformed officer.

"Officer Jaker, take this kid to the wash room and get him cleaned up and into an inmate jumpsuit. Bring him and his clothes back here when he's done."

The officer took me to a restroom with a little sink and some paper towels. I had him wait outside the door, and locked it. Then stripped to my skin, blood had even gotten under my boxer's waist band. It took a lot of paper towels and time to get even somewhat clean.

With as much blood as was on me, again I was worried about Kelly. I didn't know if she was alive or dead. No matter how many times I'd asked Spalding for information he wouldn't tell me anything.

The jumpsuit that they gave me to wear was shit orange and numbered, but I think that's what Spalding wanted. It was big too, a 6' 8" 300lb'er could fit in here. Back to my little box of a room Officer Jaker drug me, Spalding was waiting.

"Kid your getting out of here. But I've got to keep your clothes for evidence. So I need you to sign this possession receipt first."

As soon as he said 'sign' I thought, 'here we go again'. But the sheet that he gave me was only a single sheet. From what I could see of it, it looked like a standard printed form that might be used every day. I was tired and cold, worried about Kelly, wanting to see my folks and the outside of this place.

So I signed.

Officer Jaker followed as Detective Spalding led me down that short hallway. Just as we stepped into the outer office area two more Officers jointed us. My head was starting to spin in circles as two more met us at the front doors. Then I and six police men stepped out onto the concrete landing of the police station, six steps above street level.

The first blast to my mind was the thirty to forty people that were on the sidewalk and street down in front of us. Then my eyes took in a guy hold a large video camera on his shoulder, my folks and Cousin Edward were to his left. Cousin Edward just graduated law school and passed the bar exam not two months ago. He must have helped get me out of there.