to remain silent (
pause
). And everything you say (
pause
) can and will be used against you. Got that (
pause
)?” Then he pulls me toward the door to inside, and he’s rough about it.
“Where you taking my grandson?” asks Marie, and I know she’s mad, and so does Diallo.
“Marty, let me wait with Dante until the detectives arrive,” says Tom Dunleavy. “He’s just a kid.”
Without another word, Diallo shoves me through a small back office crammed with desks and then down
a short, tight hallway, until we’re standing in front of three empty jail cells, which are painted blue.
He pushes me into the middle one and slams the door shut, and the noise of that door shutting is about the
worst sound I ever heard.
“What about these?” I ask, holding up my cuffed wrists. “They hurt pretty bad.”
“Get used to it.”
Beach Road
Chapter 30
Dante
I SIT ON the cold wooden bench and try to hold my head together. I tell myself that with
Grandmoms, Clarence, and most of all Tom Dunleavy outside, nothing bad is going to happen to me.
I hope to God that’s the truth. But I’m wondering,
How long am I going to have to be here?
After twenty minutes, a new cop takes me out to be fingerprinted, which is some bad shit. Half an hour
later, two detectives arrive in plainclothes. One is young and short and about as excited as the sergeant was
scared. The older guy looks more like a real cop, heavyset, with a big square face and thick gray hair. His
name is J. T. Knight.
“Dante,” says the younger one. “All right if we talk to you for a while?”
“The sergeant says I have the right to an attorney,” I say, trying not to sound too much like a wiseguy.
“Yeah, if you’re a candy ass with something to hide,” says the older one. “Of course, the only ones who
ask for lawyers are guilty as sin. You guilty, Dante?”
My heart is banging, because once I tell them what happened, I know they’ll understand, but I calm down
enough to say, “I want Tom Dunleavy in the room.”
“Is he your lawyer?” asks the younger detective.
“I’m not sure.”
“If you’re not even sure he’s your lawyer, why do you want him in the room?”
“I just do.”
The younger one leads me down some steps, then another tight hallway, to a room the size of a big closet
with a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. There’s nothing in it but a steel desk and four chairs, and we sit
there until the older, bigger one returns with Tom.
From the apologetic way Tom looks at me, I can tell that none of this is happening like he imagined it
would. Him and me both.
Beach Road
Chapter 31
Tom
“WHY DON’T YOU start by telling us about the fight,” says Barney Van Buren. He is so amped to have a
suspect in the box in his first big case that he’s practically shaking. “The fight that afternoon between you
and Eric Feifer.”
Dante waits for my nod, then begins the story he’s waited almost two weeks to tell.
“I barely know why we squared off. I don’t think he did either. People just started shoving, and a couple
punches were thrown. But no one got hurt. It was over in maybe thirty seconds.”
“I hear he tagged you pretty good,” says Detective J. T. Knight, his right knee bouncing under the metal
table.
“He might have got a couple shots in,” says Dante. “But like I said, it was no big deal.”
“I’m curious,” says Knight. “How does it feel to get your ass kicked by somebody a foot and fifty pounds
smaller than you, what with all your buddies standing on the sidelines watching it happen?”
“It wasn’t like that,” says Dante, looking at me as much as Knight.
“If it was such a minor deal,” asks Van Buren, “why’d your friend run to the car and get his gun? Why did
he put the gun to Feifer’s head?”
“That was messed up,” says Dante, his forehead already beaded with sweat. “It wasn’t my idea he did
that. I didn’t even know he had a
pause
). And everything you say (
pause
) can and will be used against you. Got that (
pause
)?” Then he pulls me toward the door to inside, and he’s rough about it.
“Where you taking my grandson?” asks Marie, and I know she’s mad, and so does Diallo.
“Marty, let me wait with Dante until the detectives arrive,” says Tom Dunleavy. “He’s just a kid.”
Without another word, Diallo shoves me through a small back office crammed with desks and then down
a short, tight hallway, until we’re standing in front of three empty jail cells, which are painted blue.
He pushes me into the middle one and slams the door shut, and the noise of that door shutting is about the
worst sound I ever heard.
“What about these?” I ask, holding up my cuffed wrists. “They hurt pretty bad.”
“Get used to it.”
Beach Road
Chapter 30
Dante
I SIT ON the cold wooden bench and try to hold my head together. I tell myself that with
Grandmoms, Clarence, and most of all Tom Dunleavy outside, nothing bad is going to happen to me.
I hope to God that’s the truth. But I’m wondering,
How long am I going to have to be here?
After twenty minutes, a new cop takes me out to be fingerprinted, which is some bad shit. Half an hour
later, two detectives arrive in plainclothes. One is young and short and about as excited as the sergeant was
scared. The older guy looks more like a real cop, heavyset, with a big square face and thick gray hair. His
name is J. T. Knight.
“Dante,” says the younger one. “All right if we talk to you for a while?”
“The sergeant says I have the right to an attorney,” I say, trying not to sound too much like a wiseguy.
“Yeah, if you’re a candy ass with something to hide,” says the older one. “Of course, the only ones who
ask for lawyers are guilty as sin. You guilty, Dante?”
My heart is banging, because once I tell them what happened, I know they’ll understand, but I calm down
enough to say, “I want Tom Dunleavy in the room.”
“Is he your lawyer?” asks the younger detective.
“I’m not sure.”
“If you’re not even sure he’s your lawyer, why do you want him in the room?”
“I just do.”
The younger one leads me down some steps, then another tight hallway, to a room the size of a big closet
with a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. There’s nothing in it but a steel desk and four chairs, and we sit
there until the older, bigger one returns with Tom.
From the apologetic way Tom looks at me, I can tell that none of this is happening like he imagined it
would. Him and me both.
Beach Road
Chapter 31
Tom
“WHY DON’T YOU start by telling us about the fight,” says Barney Van Buren. He is so amped to have a
suspect in the box in his first big case that he’s practically shaking. “The fight that afternoon between you
and Eric Feifer.”
Dante waits for my nod, then begins the story he’s waited almost two weeks to tell.
“I barely know why we squared off. I don’t think he did either. People just started shoving, and a couple
punches were thrown. But no one got hurt. It was over in maybe thirty seconds.”
“I hear he tagged you pretty good,” says Detective J. T. Knight, his right knee bouncing under the metal
table.
“He might have got a couple shots in,” says Dante. “But like I said, it was no big deal.”
“I’m curious,” says Knight. “How does it feel to get your ass kicked by somebody a foot and fifty pounds
smaller than you, what with all your buddies standing on the sidelines watching it happen?”
“It wasn’t like that,” says Dante, looking at me as much as Knight.
“If it was such a minor deal,” asks Van Buren, “why’d your friend run to the car and get his gun? Why did
he put the gun to Feifer’s head?”
“That was messed up,” says Dante, his forehead already beaded with sweat. “It wasn’t my idea he did
that. I didn’t even know he had a
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