Ed said, “I’ll break them.”
o o o
His stage: a corridor off the Homicide pen. Three cubicles set up-mirror-fronted, speaker-connected–flip switches and a string of suspects could hear their partners rat each other off. The rooms: six-by-six square, welded-down tables, bolted-down chairs. In 1, 2 and 3: Sugar Ray Coates, Leroy Fontaine, Tyrone Jones. Rap sheets taped to the wall outside–Ed memorized dates, locations, known associates. A deep breath to kill stage fright–in the #1 door.
Sugar Ray Coates cuffed to a chair, dressed in baggy County denims. Tall, light-complected—close to a mulatto. One eye swollen shut; lips puffed and split. A smashed nose–both nostrils sutured. Ed said, “Looks like we both took a beating.”
Coates squinted–one-eyed, spooky. Ed unlocked his cuffs, tossed cigarettes and matches on the table. Coates flexed his wrists. Ed smiled. “They call you Sugar Ray because of Ray Robinson?”
No answer.
Ed took the other chair. “They say Ray Robinson can throw a four-punch combination in one second. I don’t believe it myself.”
Coates lifted his arms–they flopped, dead weight. Ed opened the cigarette pack. “I know, they cut off the circulation. You’re twenty-two, aren’t you, Ray?”
Coates: “Say what and so what,” a scratchy voice. Ed scoped his throat–bruised, finger marks. “Did one of the officers do a little throttling on you?”
No answer. Ed said, “Sergeant Vincennes? The snazzy dresser guy?”
Silence.
“Not him, huh? Was it Denton? Fat guy with a Texas drawl, sounds like Spade Cooley on TV?”
Coates’ good eye twitched. Ed said, “Yeah, I commiserate– that guy Denton is one choice creep. You see _my_ face? Denton and I went a couple of rounds.”
No bite.
“Goddamn that Denton. Sugar Ray, you and I look like Robinson and LaMotta after that last fight they had.”
Still no bite.
“So you’re twenty-two, right?”
“Man, why you ask me that!”
Ed shrugged. “Just getting my facts straight. Leroy and Tyrone are twenty, so they can’t burn on a capital charge. Ray, you should have pulled this caper a couple of years ago. Get life, do a little Youth Authority jolt, transfer to Folsom a big man. Get yourself a sissy, orbit on some of that good prison brew.”
“Sissy” hit home: Coates’ hands twitched. He picked up a cigarette, lit it, coughed. “I never truck with no sissies.”
Ed smiled. “I know that, son.”
“I ain’t your son, you ofay fuck. You the sissy.”
Ed laughed. “You know the drill, I’ll give you that. You’ve done juvie time, you know I’m the nice guy cop trying to get you to talk. That fucking Tyrone, I almost believed him. Denton must have knocked a few of my screws loose. How could I fall for a line like that?”
“Say what, man? What line you mean?”
“Nothing, Ray. Let’s change the subject. What did you do with the shotguns?”
Coates rubbed his neck–shaky hands. “What shotguns?”
Ed leaned close. “The pumps you and your friends were shooting in Griffith Park.”
“Don’t know ’bout no shotguns.”
“You don’t? Leroy and Tyrone had a box of shells in their room.”
“That their bidness.”
Ed shook his head. “That Tyrone, he’s a pisser. You did the Casitas Youth Camp with him, didn’t you?”
A shrug. “So what and say what?”
“Nothing, Ray. Just thinking out loud.”
“Man, why you talkin’ ’bout Tyrone? Tyrone’s bidness is Tyrone’s bidness.”
Ed reached under the table, found the audio switch for room 3. “Sugar, Tyrone told me you went sissy up at Casitas. You couldn’t do the time so you found yourself a big white boy to look after you. He said they call you ‘Sugar’ because you gave it out so sweet.”
Coates hit the table. Ed hit the switch. “Say what, _Sugar?_”
“Say I _took_ it! _Tyrone_ give it! Man, I was the fuckin’ boss jocker on my dorm! Tyrone the sissy! Tyrone give it for candy bars! Tyrone love it!”
Switch back up. “Ray, let’s change the subject. Why do you think you and your friends are under arrest?”
Coates fmgered the cigarette pack. “Some humbug beef, maybe like dischargin’ firearms inside city limit, some humbug like that. Wha’s Tyrone say ’bout that?”
“Ray, Tyrone said lots of things, but let’s get to meat and potatoes. Where were you at 3:00 A.M. last night?”