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She didn't reply. She went inside our office and waited for me.
"That utility knife you took out of his drawer," she said. "He was completely surprised when you found it. That presents a troubling thought for me."
"It's his knife, Rosie. There's no question abut it."
"Why was he so confident up until that moment?"
"Maybe he just forgot he'd left it there."
"You got into that security building during the night, removed the knife, then replaced it this morning, didn't you?"
"Time's always on the perp's side, Rosie. While we wait on warrants, they deep-six the evidence."
"I don't like what I'm hearing you say, Dave."
"This is our guy. You want him to walk? Because without that knife, he's sure going to do it."
"I see it differently. You break the rules, you arm the other side."
"Wait till you meet his lawyer. He's the best in southwest Louisiana. He also peddles his ass to the Teamsters, the mob, and incinerator outfits that burn PCBs. Before he's finished, he'll turn Doucet into a victim and have the jury slobbering on their sleeves."
Her eyes went back and forth thoughtfully, as though she were asking herself questions and answering them. Then she raised her chin.
"Don't ever do anything like this again, Dave. Not while we're partners," she said, and walked past me and into the interrogation room, where Murphy Doucet sat in a straight-backed chair at a small table, surrounded by white walls, wreathed in cigarette smoke, scratching at whiskers that grew along the edges of the white chicken's foot embossed on his throat.
I stepped inside the room with Rosie and closed the door.
"Where's my lawyer at?" he asked.
I took the cigarette from his fingers and mashed it out on the floor.
"You want to make a statement about Cherry LeBlanc?" I said.
"Yeah. I've given it some thought. I remember busting a whore by that name three years ago. So now y'all can tell me why I'd wait three years to kill somebody who'd been in my custody."
"We think you're a pimp for Julie Balboni, Mr. Doucet," Rosie said. "We also think you're supplying girls for his pornography operation."
His eyes went up and down her body.
"Affirmative action?" he said.
"There's something else you don't know about, Murph," I said. "We're checking all the unsolved murders of females in areas around highways during the time you were working for the state police. I have a feeling those old logs are going to put you in the vicinity of some bodies you never thought would be connected to you."
"I don't believe this," he said.
"I think we've got you dead-bang," I said.
"You've got a planted knife. This girl here knows it, too. Look at her face."
"We've not only got the weapon and the photo of you with the victim, we know what happened and why."
"What?"
"Cherry LeBlanc told Julie he was a tub of guts and walked out on him. But people don't just walk out on Julie. So he got on the phone and called you up from the motel, didn't he, Murph? You remember that conversation? Would you like me to quote it to you?"
His eyebrows contracted, then his hand went into his pocket for a cigarette.
"No. You can't smoke in here," I said.
