Page 61 - Labelle Gramercy, On the Case

Thrown for a Loss

“Calvin Oreck.”
“Home address.” She was tightening up on the questions, I
noticed.
“2311 Pornada Expressway.”
“Where were you when the coins hit the floor?”
It didn’t take an expert to know that young Cal was feeling the
heat. I mean, the air conditioning hadn’t gone off, like it does
sometimes on a hot day, but he was sweating. The lady cop might
have been taking his pulse and rate of respiration with her x-ray
vision, for all I knew.
“I was around. I heard them. I started chasing after them, just
like—just like everyone else.”
“Please be more specific. Who was with you?”
“With me? Why would anyone be with me? I was just hanging out.
Sometimes I happen to walk by the escalator on my way to
somewhere else. Is that a crime?”
That was an odd response. Maybe he had been alone, but why be
so angry about it? To cover up his guilt when he knew nobody else
could give him an alibi? If so, why call attention to the situation?
Because he was young and reacting emotionally, or was there another
reason?
Labelle continued in the same monotonous tone. That could be
irritating. Did she know these kids were hypersensitive to the
slightest sign of what they defined as disrespect from adults? “Where
were you when the escalator alarm went off?”
“Same place! Over there! Looking for those coins over by that
shoe store.”
He meant Well on Heels.
“Who was with you?”
Now he realized he was going to be seriously interrogated. You
could see the indecision pulling at the corners of his mouth and eyes.
“Nobody.”
“Did you see Autumn Pratt or her grandmother getting on the
escalator?”
“No.” Another one losing patience in a hurry. What was their
problem?
“Did you see who pushed the stop button?”
“No!”

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