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“How much did you pay for the tickets?”
“Seven hundred and twenty dollars. Talk about a rip-off. They’re supposed to sell for fifty-five a piece, but they charge a five-dollar service charge for each ticket.”
“That doesn’t seem fair,” Detective Newberg agreed. “But here’s something I don’t get. I heard there was a limit of six tickets per customer. How did you manage to buy twelve?”
“I just did.”
“I heard they were pretty strict about that.”
“You’re right. Okay. Here’s what happened.”
Keep It Simple, Stupid, thought Armpit.
“Like you said, you can only buy six tickets. Six tickets at a time. There’s nothing that prevents someone from buying six tickets, then getting back in line and buying six more tickets.”
“But it was a long line, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, it was. But you can always pay someone like fifty dollars to cut in line. See, that’s another expense. That’s what I’m talking about. People think ticket scalpers just make tons of money, but the expenses can really add up.”
“That wasn’t what I was thinking,” said Detective Newberg. “You want to hear what I was thinking?”
“Go ahead.”
“Thank you. I was thinking about the fact that all twelve tickets were in the same row, right next to each other. I’m wondering how you could buy six, then go back in line and buy six more, and they’re all right next to each other.”
“I can explain that.”
“I suggest you don’t,” said Detective Newberg.
“But you said—”
“I don’t want to hear your explanation,” Detective Newberg said.
“See, I never said I went back in line. I said you can pay someone to cut in line, but I didn’t say I—”
“Shut up and listen!”
X-Ray stopped talking.
“It’s a crime to give false information to a police officer. And for someone like yourself, with a prior offense and still on probation, you could be facing quite a bit of jail time.”
“You know about that?” asked X-Ray.
“You’re not dealing with children here. Let me tell you what else I know. I know you went to a restaurant called Smokestack Lightnin’ with somebody named Armpit. So I know you lied when you said you didn’t know him. Any other lies you want to tell me?”
X-Ray didn’t answer.
“You see that mirror? You’re a smart guy, X-Ray. Do you think that’s a regular mirror? You think it’s in here so I can fix my makeup?”
“No,” X-Ray answered quietly.
“No, it’s a two-way mirror. Behind it is an expert criminal psychologist. He’s watching and listening to everything you say. He knows when you’re lying just by your body language, and by the inflection of your voice.”
X-Ray gave a little wave to the “psychological expert.”
Armpit waved back.
“So what I want you to do is think about everything you told me, and see if there are any corrections you might want to make.”
