The captain glowered at me for a few moments, but when I didn’t drop my return gaze, he heaved a sigh. “No. We won’t be bringing any charges against you at this time.”
“Then we’re free to go?”
“Well, there are a few more questions you’ll have to answer first. After that, you’re free to . . .”
“That’s ‘more’ as in new questions, not the same ones all over again. Right?”
The policeman glared at me, but now that I knew we were in the clear, I was starting to have fun with this. “That’s right,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Okay. Shoot.”
I suddenly realized that was an unfortunate use of words in a room full of armed policemen, but it escaped unnoticed. The captain cleared his throat noisily before continuing. “Mister Skeeve,” he began formally, “do you wish to press charges against the alleged attackers we currently have in custody?”
“What kind of a silly question is that? Of course I want to.”
Kalvin was waving frantically at me and pointing to J.R. The street vendor was shaking his head in a slow, but firm, negative.
“. . . Um . . . before I make up my mind on that, Captain,” I hedged, trying to figure out what J.R. was thinking, “could you tell me what happens if I don’t press charges?”
“We can probably hold onto them until tomorrow moming for questioning, but then we’ll let them go.” That didn’t sound like particularly satisfying treatment for a gang that had tried to rob me. Still, J.R. seemed to know what he was doing so far, and I was disinclined to go against his signaled advice.