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“Really.”
“Wasn’t it you that was just saying that she doesn’t fit the profile of a criminal mastermind?”
“Yes, I said it, and no, she doesn’t. But we are going to accuse her of conspiring to commit several murders.” She made sure one was in the chamber. “There’s no telling how she’ll react.”
“I see your point,” he said smiling, but didn’t pull his gun. Instead, the detective knocked on the door, stepped to one side and waited.
“Can I help you?” a voice came through the door.
“Police,” Dawkins said, holding her badge in front of the peek hole. The door opened slowly and there stood Rona King, carrying a towel, dressed in sweats and wearing a do-rag on her head.
“Can I help you?” she asked, patting her face with the towel.
“We’re looking for Rona King,” Dawkins said holstering her gun. She doesn’t look like a criminal mastermind either, she thought of the five feet, four inch, one hundred-thirty-pound woman with the baby face.
“I’m Rona King. What’s this about?”
“I’m Detective Dawkins and this is—”
She frowned and held up her hand in Dawkins face, then she pointed at Kirk. “I know exactly who he is. And I asked you what this is about?”
“We have a warrant for your arrest,” Dawkins said, taking out her handcuffs because she was in no mood for attitude.
“Arrest?” she questioned. “On what charge?”
“Conspiracy to commit murder,” Dawkins said.
“Murder? Have you lost your mind?” she said as Dawkins cuffed her. “Can you at least tell me who I am supposed to have conspired to kill
?”
“We’ll talk about all that at the station,” she said and led her out of the apartment. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law,” and that includes giving me attitude, Dawkins thought.
When Kirk and Dawkins returned to the precinct with Rona, she was processed and then permitted to call her attorney. Then she was taken to an interrogation room to await her attorney and be interviewed. They were just about to go question her when Lieutenant McGraw came out of his office.
“Kirk, Dawkins!” he shouted. “I need a minute.”
The detectives looked at one another and then turned for the Lieutenant’s office.
“What’s up?” Kirk asked when they stepped in.
“I hate to do this to you, but we were forced to release Eisenbraun.”
“Why?” Dawkins demanded to know.
“When his high-priced lawyer pranced in here, good ole Jocko recanted his statement, made bail and walked outta here.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Kirk said.
“I’m not. He said his statement was coerced.”
“I never laid a finger on the guy!” Kirk shouted.
“Not you, Kirk,” the lieutenant said and looked at Dawkins.
“Me?” she asked, pointing at herself.
“Said that when Kirk went to search the apartment, he left you in the living room with Jocko on his knees in handcuffs,” McGraw said with a smile on his face. “He said that the pretty detective held a gun to his head and told him that if he didn’t implicate Rona King that you would splatter his brains all over the wall, take off the handcuffs and swear that he tried to escape.”
