Pipes

A good solid two hours tonight, helped along by a 30-minute race with Breanna. I cranked out a whole bunch of words while racing to see which one of us could write more in a 30-minute span. It was a good motivator - hopefully we'll have a chance to do it again.

In off-topic news, we have a weird new cat, as any regular readers of my wife's blog probably already know.

I'm convinced that this cat (Casper) has bird genes in him. The only noises he makes are bird noises. When he's happy, he coos like a pigeon. When he's upset, he screeches like some kind of engraged, predatory bird. It's really bizarre.

The only noises he makes that aren't bird-like are his purrs, which are more like diesel engines. That kid's got some pipes.

Excerpt is in the extended. I'm going to bed.

---

Outside the room, Denny stopped Hector with a hand on his shoulder. Hector turned to face him.

“You really think the guard is necessary, Hector? Seems like a waste of a cop, if you ask me.”

“Well I didn’t ask you, Sanders,” Hector retorted. “The guard’s posted, just leave it alone.”

Denny raised his hands in protest. “Hey, man, easy. I’m just saying, I don’t think anyone’s going to be busting this guy’s door down, that’s all. What’s with you?”

Hector rubbed his forehead with one hand. “Look – sorry. It’s just that this guy really is all we have on this case, Denny. There’s nothing else. We need him. I can’t afford to lose another key piece of evidence.”

“Hector, that’s why we need Bennett –“

“What do you want him for, Denny?” Hector demanded. “What would you ask him that we haven’t already asked him four times? What information do you think you’re going to get from him? We have no evidence on him. We can’t hold him. He’s already told us everything he’s going to tell us. What more would you do, Denny?”

Denny shrugged, but said nothing.

“Stan’s our man, Denny. We get him talking, we may have a case. We lose him – we’re done.”

Denny nodded in acquiescence. “Alright, Hector. I take your point. But the fact is, we still don’t even know if this is Stan. For all we know, this is just some junk-addict the neighbors want to get rid of.”

“He’s no junk addict, Denny. Did you see the size of him? That guy could eat me for dinner.”

“Whatever,” Denny said, “Crack, then. Point is, he’s a nobody unless we get confirmation from someone who’s seen him.”

Hector looked at him. “You mean Bennett.”

Denny nodded once. “Who else is there? He’s the only witness, the only one who’s actually seen Shotgun Stan. And you’re right, Hector – with Fehler six feet under, we aren’t getting very far with anybody else.”

Hector considered Denny’s words. The last thing he wanted to do was to involve Peter Bennett in this affair again. For one thing, it meant giving into all of his fellow agents who had been demanding his return for so long. More than that, however, was the fact that Hector believed that Bennett didn’t deserve involvement in the matter. His life had already seen more excitement because of this case than he probably saw in a normal year. It didn’t seem fair to drag him back into it.

Still, though, there was no getting around the truth in Denny’s statement. They might have really found Shotgun Stan, but there was no one to corroborate that assumption but Peter Bennett. If they got him talking and he denied involvement, they had no leverage, no reason to hold him. Similarity to a suspect sketch wasn’t reason enough to retain someone for any length of time unless there was a positive ID backing it up. After all, they could be wrong. A suspect falling into the hands of the FBI based on little more than a vague drawing and one of many all-points bulletins that the local police already handled was a rare occurrence. Under any other circumstances, Hector would have had a hard time believing this was their man.

He had worked too hard and too long on this case for any opportunity to slip through his fingers again, though. Losing the briefcase had been bad enough – losing their only potential suspect would be quite another. Hector knew that they needed to get information out of this man, whatever it might take.

Even if it meant giving in to the summoning of Peter Bennett.

“Okay,” Hector said, “You’re right. Stan’s all we got. If Bennett can identify him, then we’ll have a much better chance of getting the information we need.”

Denny nodded, graciously hiding any emotion of victory that he might have felt. “I’ll call the office and get somebody on it.”

“No,” Hector said, “Wait for now. We’ll do it later.”

“Hector – “ Denny started.

“No, Denny, I want to call him myself. Don’t worry, I’ll get hold of Bennett as soon as we’re done here. Right now we need to talk to the neighbors, see if we can’t figure out Stan’s real name.”

Denny nodded his consent. There was time.

Posted on November 21, 2003 12:21 AM | Entry Categories: Excerpts , Progress