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Bibia
"Bibia
Fury flashed across her face and her voice rose several notches. "Just leave me alone!"
Several people turned to look at us, including the beat officer, who began to walk in our direction. She put a hand on her left hip, touching her nightstick like a talisman. As she approached, I checked the name on her tag. Officer D. Janofsky. Probably Diane or Deborah. She didn't look like a Dorothy. Up close, I could see that she was in her late twenties, probably new to the department. I knew most of the officers who worked in this area, but she was not one I'd met. Her ma
She scarcely had the words out when a third patrol car skidded around the corner. All three of us turned as the car came to a halt some distance away. Tuesday night in Santa Teresa is usually very quiet, so aside from the obvious desire to assist a fellow officer, the officer responding must have been thrilled to see some action. This was better than rousting the homeless down at the railroad tracks. Janofsky turned her attention to Bibia
"Keep her away from me," Bibia
"We're fine," I said, hoping to defuse the situation.
Janofsky ignored me, fixing Bibia
"What for?" Bibia
"Ma'am, could you show me some identification?"
"Fuck you," Bibia
"Her name is Diaz," I interjected. "She's upset about the shooting. Can I answer any questions for you? My name's Ha
Bibia
"Probably to the station. He'll be fine. Don't worry about it. Just cool it. You've already got enough trouble on your hands."
"Could you get out of the car, please?" the officer said. She backed up half a step and planted her feet.
I said, "Goddamn it, Bibia
Bibia
Officer Janofsky went into combat mode. Before the other two officers even understood what was going on, she slammed Bibia
Janofsky leveled me with a look. She was trembling with rage, in no mood to take any sass from the likes of me. "Back up!" she snapped.
"You back up!" I snapped back. Out of the comer of my eye, I could see two male cops coming up on my right. Here goes "assault on a police officer," I thought. I hauled off and socked Officer Janofsky in the face. The next thing I knew, I was flat on the pavement, my wrists handcuffed behind me, the right side of my face being ground into the concrete. Some cop had his knee in the middle of my back. I could hardly breathe, and for a moment I worried he'd crush my rib cage. It hurt like hell, but I couldn't even get out a "guff" of protest. I'd been effectively incapacitated, not in pain, but certainly penitent. Having made his point, the guy got up. I stayed where I was, reluctant to risk a crack in the head with a nightstick. As an addendum to my discomfort, the drizzle was suddenly upgraded to a dainty pitter-patter. I groaned involuntarily. I heard Bibia
"Uh, excuse me," I said. "Hey!" It was a strain to try to hold my head in that position, so I laid it down again. Several pairs of regulation cop shoes appeared in my line of vision. I hoped none of them belonged to Lieutenant Dolan. Somebody gave an order. Suddenly, there was an officer on either side of me. I felt myself hooked under the armpits and I was lifted to my feet, levitating into an upright position effortlessly. After a quick pat-down, I was hustled off to a squad car and shoved into the backseat. The door was slammed shut.
An unmarked car came down the street from the opposite direction, sliding to a halt on the rain-lubricated asphalt. I saw Bill Blair, the coroner's deputy, get out on the driver's side, taking a moment to shrug himself into his raincoat. Head bowed against the rain, he moved over to the body without looking in my direction. All the various crime scene perso