PALINDROME Read Online Free PDF

rested upon the pillow he had
constructed with his hands. An empty paper cup resided on the table
next to him. He was in a room that had not been refurbished in
thirty years. The walls were paneled in some God-awful wood veneer
that the county’s builder had bought in a job lot for pennies on
the dollar. It had weathered, turned gray, and had been scratched
to death from three decades of abuse.
    Cooper lifted his head when the door opened.
A uniformed officer said, “Your attorney is here.”
    “Thanks,” Cooper replied. “What about some
more water?”
    “Yeah, any minute now,” the cop replied
sarcastically. He stepped aside so that the attorney could enter
the room, and then pulled the door closed on his way out.
    Emilio Bolan was a man of purpose. He walked
directly to the chair opposite Cooper and sat down without saying a
word. He flipped open his briefcase and withdrew a legal pad. He
fished within the breast pocket of his Dolce & Gabbana suit and
withdrew a handcrafter S.T. Dupont pen. He scribbled the date and
time at the top of the page alongside Cooper’s name.
    “Thanks—” Bolan raised his finger and
silenced Cooper before he could say anything else. He looked up at
the wall-mounted video camera and checked to make sure it had been
turned off. Without looking, he rapped on the one-way viewing panel
behind him. He dusted lint off his lapel as he waited for the
police officer to return. A minute passed in silence, and then the
door to the interrogation room swung open.
    “Yeah?” the uniformed cop said
impatiently.
    “Everything is switched off, yes?” Bolan
asked.
    “Yeah, everything’s off,” the cop
replied.
    “Everything?” Bolan reiterated. “No video or
audio recording at all, yes?”
    “I said, yes, ”
    “Splendid. Thank you,” Bolan said with a
polite smile. “Please make sure the shades are drawn on the viewing
panel.” He rapped on the glass panel with his knuckles again.
    “Anything else?” the cop replied, irritation
evident in the tone of his voice. “You want a couple of lattes? How
about a plate of nachos to pick on? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” he
muttered as he pulled the door shut.
    “Thanks for coming down. I—” Cooper said.
    Bolan shot his cuffs quickly and
unexpectedly, causing Cooper to flinch. Bolan admired his solid
gold cufflinks momentarily. “You don’t speak unless I tell you to.
I will ask the questions and you will answer, quickly and
accurately. The first time you lie to me, I will resign as your
counsel. I don’t appreciate being dragged out to Suffolk County in
the middle of the night.”
    “It’s all bullshit. I didn’t do anything,”
Cooper said.
    “Of course not. No one ever does anything. In
fact, I am so busy defending falsely accused individuals that I can
scarcely find time for a satisfying bowel movement.”
    “So you’re not the nicest attorney, are
you?”
    “I could be if we had met under the proper
circumstances . . . but we didn’t. Nicest? No, I’m not the nicest,
but I’m the best that money can buy; lucky for you to have a friend
with lots of influence. I’m sure you can find any number of Long
Island country bumpkin attorneys to defend you, so if that’s what
you would prefer—” Bolan put the cap on his exquisite pen and
slipped it back into his pocket. “No problem.” He stood and
prepared to leave.
    “Whoa, hold on,” Cooper said. He showed his
palms to indicate he was willing to back off. “I got it. We’ll play
by your rules.”
    Bolan sat and thatched his fingers. He flexed
them before he retrieved his pen. “Do you understand the crime you
have been accused of?”
    “Let me guess . . . rape?” Cooper responded
indignantly.
    “Attempted rape to be specific. These are not
charges to be taken lightly.”
    “This is such crap. This chick is insane. She
came on to me big time and then cold-conked me.”
    “She seduced you and then knocked you out? Do
you know how implausible that sounds?”
    “Look,