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The man looked at her with frightened eyes and said—and this time the accent was unmistakable—“Why are you arresting me? What did I do?”
“You’re not under arrest,” Faith said. “You’re being detained for questioning regarding the murders of Chester McIlhenny and Everett Richardson. Roll over onto your stomach.”
“Who? I don’t know these men!”
“You can tell me all about it in a few minutes. Give me your left hand.”
“Faith?” Michael called. “We have a problem.”
Faith looked up and saw the crowd gathering around them. This crowd was rapidly growing to the same size as the one around Richardson’s body earlier today, and within minutes, they would be just as rambunctious.
“Stand up,” Faith said, puling the suspect to his feet. “Michael, call Miss Bhandari. Tell her we have a suspect on the maintenance walkway in front of Platform …” she looked up, “… 12B. Tell her we’re moving him, and we need someone to open the maintenance room for us to talk to him. If we can get security presence that would be nice too.”
“Will do,” Michael said.
“All right, sir,” Faith said to her suspect. “Walk with me.”
She walked the suspect away from the crowd toward the next tunnel. Turk followed close behind, glancing every few seconds into the crowd to ensure that the crowd wasn’t threatening them.
They reached the maintenance entrance under the next tunnel, and Faith called Michael. “ETA?”
“Any second now,” Michael said. “We’re in the maintenance corridor as we speak.”
“Good.”
“What did I do?” the suspect whined. “I don’t know these men.”
“We’ll talk in a moment,” Faith said.
“Can you take the cuffs off?”
“No.”
“This isn’t right!” he whined. “I have rights! I study America! I know you can’t hold me without a warrant!”
The maintenance door opened, and Faith led the suspect into a room where Michael and two massive security guards waited. The room was little more than a supply closet and with everyone inside, they were crowded to the point where they couldn’t move.
“Is there anywhere else to go?” Faith asked.
“There’s a break room close by,” one of the officers said. “We’ll take you there.”
The suspect continued to whine about his cuffs as they walked to the break room. Michael dropped back until he was next to Faith. “You two all right?”
“We’re fine,” Faith said. “He threw Turk onto the tracks, but thankfully for our suspect here, Turk missed the electrified rail.”
“I didn’t mean to electrocute him,” the man whined. “He bit my arm!”
They reached the break room, and Faith told the security guards to wait outside and secure the room until they were finished. Once that was done, the suspect said quietly, “Can you please take my cuffs off? I won’t run, I promise.”
“I believe you,” Faith said, “but since you resisted detainment and behaved violently with my K9 unit, I can’t take the cuffs off until we’re finished. It’s Bureau policy.”
“He attacked me!” the man protested.
“He attacked you after you started running,” Faith said.
“I started running because a vicious dog was growling at me! What would you have done?”
“I would have asked the nice woman in the bulletproof vest marked FBI to restrain her dog,” Faith said. “I wouldn’t have run and then ignored her every command to stop.”
