Cross-Over Murders by Frank F. Atanacio Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

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O’Brien sat in the conference room, staring angrily at the man sitting across from him. He didn’t know what to expect, and he wasn’t allowed to question him because that’s what Captain Frank Roque wanted to do. He wasn’t going to step on anyone’s toes.
Other police officers in the building knew that they had a suspect in the Cross-over murders. They were walking by and peeking in, but no one entered the room. That was just fine with Peter O’Brien. The less the merrier.
There was a general consensus that already formed around the police station. They knew that the suspect had to be guilty. He looked the part. He was a clean shaven Neo-Nazi supporter with a swastika tattooed on each side of his scalp. His head was shiny, and almost looked waxed.
O’Brien would have appreciated the care he took in preserving the bald look if the man wasn’t suspected of being the murderer.
Innocent until proven guilty! Shot loudly through O’Brien’s head. He wanted to think that way, but his mind wouldn’t let him process that logic. The man sitting across from him was guilty until proven innocent. His thoughts couldn’t take it any other way.

O’Brien looked up and saw the captain standing there. To the captain’s mild surprise, O’Brien stuck out his hand for shaking. He’s never done this before, and the captain knew that he must of had a lot of things running through his mind. He took his hand and shook it briefly, then he sat down next to the suspect.
“If it’s not asking too much,” started the suspect. “I do want to know why the hell did you guys drag me in here?”
O’Brien seethed.
“We’re looking into the murders of some laborers,” started the captain. “Illegal aliens that work for next to nothing.”
“Murders?”
“Don’t get innocent with me!” O’Brien shouted.
“Pete, please.”
O’Brien nodded reluctantly.
“I don’t know what the hell you guys are talking about,” said the suspect. “I just grab some of those Beaners, and we do the work for that day. I ain’t got nothing against where they come from or what they do with the money they earn. And I’ll tell you, I have no need to kill those son bitches!”
“Let me get it out of him, captain,” said O’Brien. “He’s getting a damn rise out of me that just won’t quit!”
“Relax, Pete.”
The suspect grinned.
“Don’t grin at my officer,” the captain warned. “Or I might just let him get it out of you.”
“I still don’t know why you guys have me here,” said the suspect. “I may look like a hater, but I just do my job. I hire some of these Beaners to help and that’s it. The worst thing I did was not pay them. They see me come around the next day and they want to pick a fight with me. That’s all there is to it.”
“Liar!” O’Brien shouted.
The suspect stared blankly at him wondering why he was so hot under the collar. He knew he was telling the police the truth, and it was their problem if they didn’t believe him. He may have hated the situation around him, but he knew he was no liar.
“Captain, I really don’t appreciate being called a liar,” said the suspect. “If you feel that I’m the killer, then I suggest you charge me with something so that I could hire an attorney. I’m innocent, and I know for a fact I can prove it. Without a doubt.”
“Pete?”
“I think he’s a smart liar!”
The suspect glanced up toward O’Brien and stared into his eyes. He knew that O’Brien was going to be a hot head when he first met him. It’s like that with all Neo-Nazi looking guys. O’Brien was no exception.
“Can you prove your whereabouts on the days that the murders occurred?” asked the captain.
“I was with workers and my family every hour of the day,” he smiled. “And every hour of the night. I’m covered, and you guys are just barking up the wrong street.”
“We have a witness!” O’Brien shouted.
“Can’t be true,” said the suspect. “I didn’t kill anyone. I know it, so that witness you have is a fake.”
“She didn’t see you kill anyone,” said the captain. “She saw you arguing with one of the laborers. In fact, she said you actually threatened one of the Mexican teenagers. Is that right?”
“Damn straight!” He half shouted. “Sometimes I pay them to work eight hours, and we end up working less. I ask for the difference back and they refuse. I threaten to have them shipped back to their country. Some even test me so we go face to face for a few minutes. But of course, I win and they pay me my money back. I’m not denying that.”
“Got damn it!” O’Brien shouted as he stood up.
“Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t murder anybody,” said the suspect. “Next time, I’ll break their heads, that way you can get this fat piece of sh....”
O’Brien punched him in the face before he got to finish that word.
“Pete, what the hell are you doing?”
“Hot head!” shouted the suspect.
“Don’t you have a report to fill out?” The captain asked.
“No.”
“Find someone’s report to fill out then!”
“I don’t believe this punk!”
“Then charge me with something!”
“Captain?”
“We gotta cut him loose.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry Pete,” said the captain. “We really have nothing on him. He has no priors, and he is walking the straight and narrow. The man doesn’t even have any traffic violations.”
“That can’t be right!”
“I’m sorry Pete,” said the captain. “But it is.”
“So we wasted good money on garbage.”
“Hey, I’m not garbage!”
“Not you, you punk,” said O’Brien. “I was talking about the information we got on you.”
“I can’t believe you’re a cop,” said the suspect. “I’d like to check your record, or lack there of.”
“Don’t talk to my officer like that,” said the captain. “O’Brien is one of the best we have. He may be too passionate about some cases, but he cares. He is a great cop because he cares, and that’s all you need to know about him!”
The suspect bowed his head.
O’Brien’s cell phone chimed.
“O’Brien here, what.... where? Okay.... I’ll be there shortly,” he slapped his cell phone shut and shoved it into his back pocket.
“What is it, Pete?”
“Cruz and Fuentes found two more bodies, buried.”
“Don’t say...”
“Yeah, alive.”
The captain, got up, and went over to the small refrigerator. He opened it up and took out a bottle of Gin. He poured a shot into a small glass and returned to the table, sliding it in front of the suspect. “I thought I needed it.”
The suspect took the Gin and gulped it down quickly. “Thank you. Am I free to go?”
The captain nodded.
O’Brien turned and walked out of the conference room.
“Do I need a lawyer?’ he asked as he stood up from the table.
“No,” the captain replied without looking up at him.
“So this was all for nothing?”
“You were a suspect,” said the captain while glancing at the table top. “There is murder roaming my streets. I can’t have that. There is nothing anyone could tell me that would make me stop doing what I’m doing. If I have to drag every contractor down here to ask him or her questions, I will. That’s what I’m paid to do. So if you think this was all for nothing, you’re not as smart as you think you are.”
There was silence.
The captain looked up and the suspect was gone. Captain Frank Roque wasn’t sure if his speech received an audience.