Choice of Evil Read Online Free PDF Page B

asked.
    “My brains are still scrambled from the last one, and that was a long time ago,” I told him, nice and quiet, but letting him know I was done dancing. “You’ve been looking for me. Okay, here I am. You want to ask me some questions, do it. You don’t, see you around.”
    “My client is here at the request of the DA’s Office,” Davidson put in. “Since he’s not a suspect, I assume you won’t be Miranda-izing him?”
    “Sure, counselor,” the one with the boozer’s nose said. He opened a notebook, looked over at me. “Name?”
    “See you around,” I said, getting to my feet.
    “Hold it!” the sandy-haired one said. “What’s your problem?”
    “I don’t have a problem. You guys do. I came here, in good faith, because I thought
you
thought I could help you. You know who I am. You got my rap sheet and my mug shots right there in front of you. What else you want to know?”
    “A current address would be nice.”
    “Sure as hell would,” I told him. “Problem is, I don’t have one.”
    “You’re homeless, right?”
    “Yep.”
    “So you’re sleeping in the shelters?”
    “I look that fucking stupid to you?”
    “Hey, Johnny, relax,” the boozer-nosed one said to his partner. “Burke here, he got a lot of friends he could stay with. Besides, they don’t let no dogs in the shelters, right?”
    “What dog?” I asked him.
    “Ah, it’s gonna be like that.”
    “Last chance,” I said, meaning it.
    “Okay, okay. Relax. Come on. Let’s just deal like men, all right?” the sandy-haired one lied. “We know your girlfriend was one of the ones killed in that drive-by, at that queer rally.”
    I looked at him like I was watching a TV test pattern.
    “And we figured, maybe, you’d like to find the guys who did that.”
    I kept looking at him.
    “And we know you’ve been asking around. . . .”
    “Do you?” I said, uninterested.
    “Yeah, we do. We got a witness to it, all ready to walk in and talk to a grand jury.”
    “And the crime is. . . what? Asking questions? That was true, all reporters would be doing life.”
    “And we got a
bunch
of fucking murders,” he went on. “All fag-bashers. So, the way we figure, somebody don’t like fag-bashers. Brilliant so far, huh?”
    “About up to par,” I acknowledged.
    “And we figure, there’s at least one, maybe two, or even three fag-bashers that
you
don’t like.”
    “Oh. You mean, you solved that case? You got the shooters.”
    “You’re one sarcastic motherfucker, aren’t you? How about this one,
Mister
Burke. How about you tell us where you were on the thirteenth? Say, between four in the afternoon and eleven at night?”
    “I can’t remember,” I said flatly. “You know how it is, drifting around, looking for a place to stay.”
    “So you got no alibi for that time?”
    “I got no alibi for
any
time,” I promised him.
    “You fit,” boozer-nose said.
    “Fit what?”
    “The profile. Everyone knows you’re a revenge freak. They killed your girlfriend, so you. . .”
    “I what? I don’t know who did it. You know, why don’t you tell me, find out if your theory’s correct?”
    “We don’t know,” the sandy-haired one said. “And we figure, you don’t, either. So maybe you’re just working your way through the whole list.”
    “You know why I came in here?” I asked him. “You know the real reason?”
    “No. Why don’t you tell us.”
    “I came in because I thought you guys were actually trying to get whoever killed Crystal Beth. I thought maybe you knew who it was, but you didn’t have enough to arrest them. And that maybe you were going to let that. . . slip, understand? Then you’d close the case. Call it ‘exceptional clearance’ and keep your stats up. But now I see what’s going on. All this bullshit game-playing crap. You think it’s
me
? That I’m a fucking serial killer? Jesus H.—”
    “Hey, pal, it’s not like you never—”
    “Never what? Went around whacking people