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Detective Albright sighed, keeping his cool. He leaned closer to the table, placing his elbows against the metal, and locked eyes with Kip. He was a seasoned interrogator. He read body language and looked for changes in speech and eye contact. Every fiber in his body told him that Kip was a guilty man. He was tired, though. Tired of men like Kip constantly getting away with crimes because witnesses refused to come forward and testify and because of lack of evidence.
“We know you were there, Kip,” Albright said.
“And if I was, I was there to watch my brother play chess, and then I got distracted by some pussy. Didn’t see shit go down,” he announced coolly.
Yang said, “What about your friends, Papa John and Devon?”
“What about them?”
“You think they’re that loyal? If we get them in here on an unrelated charge, have them looking at twenty-five years to life, you think they’re gonna be so loyal?” Yang asked roughly. “I’ve seen men like y’all break before, and I’ll see it again.”
Kip chuckled. “Whatever. Y’all niggas got a charge on us, then fuckin’ charge us. If not, I’m a free man, right? And if not, then I want my fuckin’ lawyer. I’m tired of talkin’ to y’all. Bring me down here on some bullshit!”
Albright and Yang were at their wits’ end.
Detective Albright, fed up with the thug’s cockiness, wanted to wrap his hands around Kip’s neck and choke him. “You know about a shooting two weeks ago near Club Revolt?”
“What? I thought we were done with this shit. I want my lawyer.”
“Oh, we’re done, and you can have your lawyer. I’m just talking, that’s all. But, anyway, I have to ask—Where were you on the night Jason Miller was robbed and shot?”
“I was home, fucking this bitch; she had some good pussy too.”
“And I suppose you have a bitch already to verify your alibi, huh?”
Kip nodded. “Of course. She ain’t gonna forget this dick.”
Albright added, “Well, there’s surveillance in the area.”
“And I’m supposed to be worried about being someplace that I wasn’t? You’re reaching, detective, and that’s some petty shit, even for you, nigga!”
Detective Albright stared Kip down from head to toe, but there was no panic or no change in his body language. Kip continued to be an arrogant, cocky son of a bitch, acting like a man with nothing to hide.
“Once again, is there a charge, detectives?”
Yang said, “No, asshole, there’s no charge.”
“Okay then. Then I guess that means I’m fuckin’ free to go, right?”
“Get the fuck out this room!” Albright said, clearly frustrated.
Kip sprung up from his chair and smirked. The men sat at the table looking defeated by the interrogation.
Before Kip left the room, he spun around with an afterthought for them. “I guess we’ll talk soon, huh?”
Detective Albright shot up out of his seat and charged toward Kip. He got into Kip’s face and exclaimed, “Oh, we gonna talk real soon, you ignorant nigga, believe that! And when we do, I’m gonna lock you so far inside the jail, you gonna forget what daylight even looks like.”
Kip had nothing else to say. Seeing the cop riled up was entertaining enough. He chuckled and made his exit, leaving the cop fuming.
***
An hour later Kip arrived back at the apartment to find Kid still there.
Seeing his brother walk through the doors again, Kid exhaled. “Kip, you’re home!” he exclaimed animatedly.
“Of course, I’m home. I told you I was coming right back.”
Kid was elated. The spat they’d had that morning had been completely forgotten or forgiven. Kid thought he had lost his brother to incarceration, but good fortune brought him back home once again.
