The Devil's Copper by Jamie Crothall (ebook audio reader .TXT) 📗

“Yes,” the officer interjected. “Did you ever get to the bottom of that?”

“Look, I, uh…need to be somewhere, so if I’m not…”

“Perhaps you should come to the station so we can clarify a few things.”

“Uh…you said she wasn’t under arrest,” Walter insisted.

“She’s not,” the officer replied.

Officer Simpson craned her neck to look beyond us.  A handful of officers were spilling over around the corner.  One gestured to her.  Walter and I exchanged a look, indicating we had both seen the same thing.  Officer Simpson put her attention back on me, only this time her tone was more informal.  “Billie, I really think it’s in your best interest to come with me.”

What the hell did that mean?

“I mean,” she continued. “I don’t know if…”

“Well, let’s not be rude,” Walter said, putting his hand around my waist.  “The officer wants a word, and doesn’t want to do it in the street.”  He looked to the policewoman.  “As you say, no one is under arrest, correct?”

She nodded.

“Can we make our own way there?”

“By all means.”

“Good,” he said.  “We’ll race you.”  He then ushered me forward, using a small bit of force to urge me to keep up his pace.  “Just kidding about the racing part!” he called back to her.

“What the hell was that all about?” I gasped.

“She knows something we don’t,” Walter said.  “I hate when that happens.  Let’s get there before the others do.”

“What others?”

“The others stuck doing their job, despite their interest in our presence.  Rather, your presence.”

Being that we were already downtown, there was no reason to go back to the car.

***

It was a short walk to the station. When we arrived, Officer Simpson was already waiting for us in the main foyer.

“I may have been kidding about racing here.  But you weren’t,” Walter quipped.

“This way please,” she said.

She guided us past the front counter, into a room down a long, sterile hallway.  I had never been this far into the station before. I found it unsettling.  Even if I hadn’t done anything illegal.  Then came the stifling realization I had a revolver in my purse.

“Have a seat,” she said.

She ushered us into a small office.  It didn’t look like an interview room with two-way glass, like in the movies. But it wasn’t a conventional office either.

“Look, I’m not sure what you think I’ve…”

“Oh, I don’t think you’ve done anything wrong,” the officer assured me. “But that doesn’t mean you’re entirely safe.”

“What do you know?” Walter asked.

“He’s with you?” she asked, half-pointing to him.

I nodded, while he looked somewhat insulted.

“Have you found your boyfriend?”

I shook my head, doing my best to feign embarrassment.  “Oh, that, yes.  Turns out it was just his friends playing a joke.”

“On you?  Or him?”

“Both of us, really.”

“And where is he now?”

“Uh, away on business.”

“Can you name these friends of his?”

“Uh…”

“Why were there so many cops around the medical centre?” Walter asked, thankfully saving me from my inability to lie on command.

“We weren’t outside the medical centre, but the building next door.  You know, the one where Mr. Jacky Spry has an office.”  She turned to me.  “You’re familiar with the office, Billie?”

I nodded.

“It was broken into last night.  The landlord saw the busted door and called us.”

“Did they take anything?”

“Doesn’t look like it.  They just messed the place up.  Any idea why they might do that?”

“No,” I insisted.

“None at all?”

“I don’t even know who would do such a thing.”

“Well, here’s the interesting part.  We caught the person who did it.  Are you familiar with Michel Lussier?”

“Mike?” I asked with a gasp.  “He’s one of Jack’s employees!  I have no idea why he would…”

“The only reason I’m talking to you now is because of your visit the other day.  If there’s something I need to know, you need to tell us, Billie.  And if you’re afraid of someone…anyone…then you need to say so.  We can look out for you.”

It was heavily implied that ‘anyone’ referred to Walter, sitting next to me.  I was a bit naïve, but I caught on to that pretty quick.

“Riley, isn’t it?”

The officer and I were both caught off guard by Walter’s interjection.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Officer Riley Simpson,” he continued. “I knew I recognized you.  We’ve met.”

“I honestly don’t think we have.”

“Yeah.  It was last year.  We met at the New Year’s bash at the arena!  You were there with your sister.”

There was an awkward pause.  “I really don’t see how this is relevant.”

“I thought it was relevant, but I guess not.”

“What are you implying?”

“I’m implying you have a butterfly tattoo on your thigh and..”

“That’s enough!” she snapped.  She looked to me.  “I have never met this man in my life.”  Then back to Walter.  “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Walter sat back and put his hands up in a meager surrender.  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I think I got mixed up.  I assure you I haven’t been drinking.”  He turned his attention to me.  “Billie, do you mind counting to ten?”

“I don’t think that’s…”

“You don’t have to listen to him,” she insisted.

“Consider it a sobriety test,” he explained, not that it would have made much more sense to the officer.

“Look, I’m trying to be helpful, but if you want to help Jack then…”

I cursed myself for doing it, but I started.  “One…”

Walter leaned forward.

“Two…”

“Billie, I think that you should…”

“Three…”

Walter sat back.

“You’re right,” he said, putting up his hands.  “I’ve been far too argumentative.  I’ll leave.  This way?” he asked, needlessly pointing to the door.  The officer nodded.  “I’ll be waiting outside, princess.”

We both looked bewildered as he