The Way Things Are Read Online Free PDF Page B

insisted.
    “And I’m not an idiot. Is a search underway? Has anyone found them? Hell, even if the kid can’t speak English, he can walk. If you take him back to the docks, he can probably help.”
    Malcolm chuckled and glared at his partner. “Mr. Connelly, we can’t discuss any of the details of this investigation beyond your own statement. But, I can assure you, we are working very closely with the Port to investigate this matter fully. We’ve got it.”
    “Whatever. Anything else you want to ask?”
    “Where did you learn to fight?”
    “My elementary school playground, like everyone else.”
    “That’s bullshit,” said Malcolm. “You’ve got a series of assault charges and disturbing the peace charges on your juvenile record, but no one was actually hurt, and nothing since then.”
    “That stuff when I was a kid was mostly blowing off steam. I wasn’t trying to hurt anybody.”
    “And you were trying to hurt those men?”
    “Uh, yeah. Only an idiot would walk into a three-on-one fight and try to play fair. If I’d pulled my punches, one of those fuckers would have gotten back up and slit my throat. Better to make sure they couldn’t get up.”
    “You don’t have so much as a parking ticket on your adult record. No military service, no history in law enforcement, but you move like a trained fighter.”
    The redhead relaxed his posture a little. “I used to box.”
    “Boxing?”
    “Yeah. I’ve been meaning to get back into it, but I haven’t really had time since I moved here.”
    “That’s right, you said you’ve lived in New York until recently?”
    “Yes.”
    “We didn’t turn up any convictions from New York on your record either. An arrest for aggravated assault, but no charges were ever filed. Care to tell me about that?”
    “You can’t figure that one out on your own? You’ve arrested me for, I’m just guessing here since you both have done nothing but dodge my questions, aggravated assault. Do you expect I’ll face charges?”
    Malcolm stared at the man for a long moment but said nothing.
    “So do you have any more questions, or can I go? I’m really late for something.”
    “We’ve already notified your son’s probation officer that you’re assisting us in this investigation, so they’re going to give him breakfast and keep him in a holding cell until you’re done here. He’s in the Youth Services Center, right across the parking lot.”
    Kowalski stared between Malcolm and the redhead. “Your son? What did he do?”
    “Graffiti,” Connelly answered automatically.
    “Have you already talked with them?” Malcolm asked.
    He shook his head slowly. “Don’t have to. I know my son. It’s always graffiti.”

Chapter 3

     
    G ETTING OUT of the detention center was a long process, and getting through the Youth Services Center took even longer. He had to show his ID four times, wait for forty minutes in a series of uncomfortable plastic chairs, go through two metal detectors, and surrender his keys, the Gerber multitool he hated to be without, and his flashlight and sunglasses. The zippers on his jacket pockets set off the metal detectors again, but after letting a guard poke through all the pockets, the jacket was begrudgingly handed back after he went through one more search with a handheld metal detector. All that was just to get into the lobby.
    Despite the delays and the discomfort, the King County Youth Services Center felt almost comfortable after sitting in an interview room for four hours in the regular detention center.
    Inside, an old detention officer had him sign a dozen forms and signed a form promising to take Jay directly to his hearing. “The Youth Court is right on the other side of the building, but you got to go out and around,” the officer assured him. “Intake JPC has already been in to assess him, and his regular JPC has been in once already, so the court will be ready to go.”
    “JPC?” asked Patrick, watching as another guard walked