Now that he was out in the open, Rob figured he might as well approach the police and see what, if anything, they would tell him. He walked over to the man in the suit who he had seen talking with the crime scene tech. He was tall and barrel chested with reddish hair and a face that resembled the actor David Caruso. He even cocked his head a little to one side when he talked, the way Caruso did in that Miami cop show he was on. The man looked at Rob with an evil glare and Rob responded with his best “nice guy” smile.
“Hello, detective,” he said, “I’m Rob Covington from the Vineyard Packet. What can you tell me about the victim? I don’t suppose you have a name?”
“Are you nuts?” the cop said. “We’ve only been here an hour. Do you think the victim was conveniently carrying three forms of identification? This must be your first assignment.”
“Actually, it’s not,” Rob said while moving closer to the detective. “I’ve been writing police stories for seven or eight years now and I’ve gotten pretty good at it, so here’s a little tip for you, since we’ve only just met. I can write good stories or I can write bad stories. I can write stories that make the police look really good or stories that make them look really bad. Most of the police I’ve worked with prefer the kind of stories that make them look really good.
"Now, that said, I’d like to start over again and maybe you and I can come to a mutual understanding that each of us has a job to do and we both know how to do our jobs the proper way. What do you say? The choice is yours.”
The cop stared at Rob and continued to scowl. He looked even more like David Caruso now and cocked his head a little farther to one side. He reached into a pocket for a cigarette.
“So here goes,” Rob said. “We’re starting over again, right?” He backed up, stood up a little straighter and looked the cop in the eye. “Hello detective,” he said. “My name is Rob Covington and I’m from .…”
“OK, wise ass, I’ll play along,” the detective said, interrupting Rob in mid-sentence, “but if you fuck with me, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” He broke the unlit cigarette in two and threw it to the ground. He looked as if he was getting ready to fight.
“Whoa,” Rob said, taking another step backward and reaching into his own pocket. “That’s not the spirit of cooperation I was looking for. Hang on there one second while I record that quote on my phone.” He opened the recording app and started to repeat the detective’s words: “OK wise ass. I’ll play along, but if you fuck with me, you’ll regret it ….”
“Stop,” the cop said. “Just stop, okay? If you’ll stop talking for one minute I’ll tell you what I know. It’s going to wind up in the police report anyway, and I suppose you’ll get that from the chief tomorrow morning. He loves to see his name and picture in the paper.”
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