Page 56 - Labelle Gramercy, On the Case

Thrown for a Loss

she probably also knew he might be pushed beyond his efforts to
clam up if he were experiencing just the right amount of distress. It
struck me that it was like that throw she used to get him seated
again—keeping the opponent off balance made a big difference.
Maybe her heavy-handed approach was smarter than I thought.
Maybe she was just taking advantage of the position she would
always be in as the cop interrogating the suspect or witness.
Anyway, his answer made sense. The shortest path from Krumpet
Kozy to the escalators went around the other side of the well. Unless
Autumn and her grandmother had gone out of their way, anyone
sitting on the bench would have had his back to them. And I couldn’t
imagine the old lady, given what I knew already about her, wanting to
expose herself or the girl to any more of the second floor’s
temptations and dangers than was absolutely necessary.
Labelle Gramercy then brought his attention back to the scene of
chaos and confusion. I began to wonder how reliable Curt Rudin’s—
or any of these kids’—testimony could be, particularly when they felt
threatened. But it was all the detective had to work with, and she
forged ahead, asking him the same question as before, but stated
differently.
“During the time you were by the landing, were your friends also
there? Be specific.”
He appeared to be making a genuine effort to remember. The tiger
had turned into a pussycat. “Okay. As I said, Luke was with me all
the way to where the coins were flying around. Those other two, Cal
and Newt, must have been around somewhere. I mean, we were all
there when you started questioning us, right?”
Curt looked at me for the first time, and I saw the frustrated rage
coming back to his eyes. This kid might be overweight from eating
too much fat and sugar, but he still had a lot of muscle and energy
balled up beneath the rolls of flab.
“Yes, you were,” I corroborated, and smiled as much
encouragement as possible.
Labelle persisted. “Can you be more precise about the others’
movements?”
Bad question. It had the ring of pompous authority, even a touch
of sarcasm to someone ready and willing to take offense.
“No! How many times do I have to tell you same thing?”

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