Detective Lewis notes the police cars blocking the university lot as she changes lanes for the hospital entrance. She finds a parking spot and hurries into the building. But when she sees her partner sitting outside a closed door, hunched over his iphone, his look of concentration tells her he’s playing a video game.
“And you needed me urgently because …?”
Detective Wolfrom grins sheepishly. “Sorry. I figured it was better to lob some angry birds than lose it with a suspect. I didn’t think you’d mind coming back on rotation a little early. Getting a jump on it.” He stows the cell phone in its holster on his belt.
“Suspect?” Lewis asks. “What have we got?”
“Group of students arranged an unofficial search party for a missing classmate, Natasha Panov. The searchers found her in the woods behind the campus. Raped and badly beaten.”
“Not rape, sexual assault. How’s the vic doing?”
“Unconscious. The doc seems to think she’ll live.”
“And you have a suspect already?”
“Well. Kind of.” Wolfrom shrugs, indicating the closed door behind him. “This guy was one of the searchers, but when I ask him anything, he just won’t answer.” Lewis shoots him a look. “Well, everybody’s a suspect.”
“Yes, but remember the doer is usually exactly who you expect. The boyfriend or the guy she wouldn’t go out with. Or come across for. Real people don’t screw around with complicated plots, Wolfie. They don’t plan elaborate strategies and join search parties to throw the intrepid cops off the scent like in the movies. In real life people just act on impulse ’cause they’re mad or frustrated. Being in the search party doesn’t make the guy more likely.”
“So why won’t he answer even the simplest questions?”
Lewis shrugs. “Like every other fricken college kid he probably read that damn Boingboing article warning civilians never to talk to cops.”
“Oh. I must’ve missed that one.”
“You know, Wolfie, next time that Doctorow’s in town lecturing at Christie I’ll have a few choice words for the guy. What do you want from me?”
“I was kind of hoping you’d maybe bat your eyelashes at the guy or slap him around or something.”
“Yeah right.” Lewis laughs. “Seriously, though, do you have any reason for thinking he’s the guy?”
“Well, no. I don’t know anything about him because he won’t talk.” Wolfrom shakes his head.
“You have the guy’s name?”
“Pretty much name rank and serial number. Ethan Sumner, teaching assistant, third year photography, lives in residence. Vic is a photography first year, lives in the same res.”
“All right, let me take a run at him.”
Wolfrom opens the door and reveals Ethan sitting stiffly in the patient chair across the desk in the small office. He looks up sullenly when the door opens.
“Hello Mr. Sumner, I’m detective Lewis. I understand you were with the search party. Is there any information you can help us out with tonight?”
“I’ve helped as much as I’m able.”
“Detective Wolfrom tells me you’re not answering questions.”
Ethan nods. “That’s correct.”
“I don’t understand that, Mr. Sumner.” Detective Lewis asks, “Don’t you want to help your friend? I mean, you went out searching to help find her, and you found her. Now that she’s safe we want the guy who did it. I don’t understand how not talking to us helps her.”
Ethan says, “I have a right to remain silent.”
“Ah. Well, that’s true enough, but just so you know, real life in Canada is just a little different than what you see on American television. You do have the right to remain silent, but we have the right to hold it against you later in court. Still, you’re not charged, so I don’t see why you won’t talk to us.”
Ethan repeats, “I have a right to remain silent.”
“Are you saying that we should be arresting you?” Detective Wolfrom speaks from behind Ethan, where he’s leaning against the door jamb. “Was it you who attacked her, then?”
Ethan turns to glare at Wolfrom. “No, it wasn’t me, but I still don’t have to tell you anything.”
Lewis says, “You do realize that as long as you stand mute, we can’t eliminate you as a suspect.”
“You people will do what you want either way. You can either arrest me or let me go.”
Lewis shrugs. “You’re not making it any easier, Mr. Sumner. I certainly hope that no one else gets raped because you chose not to share information with us.”
Ethan just glares. “Am I free to leave?”
Lewis and Wolfrom exchange glances. They don’t have anything on the guy beyond belligerence. “You have always been free to go. You aren’t under arrest, we’ve only asked you questions as a witness. We may need to speak with you again.”
“Will I get a lawyer then?”
Lewis shakes her head. “Mr. Sumner, you are free to consult with a lawyer at any time you like. However the only time the court appoints a lawyer is after your arrest if you are unable to hire your own.”
“Fine. Maybe I’ll talk to you then.” Lewis notes a little yellow button affixed to the backpack as he takes it off the back of the chair and slings it over his shoulder.
Wolfrom starts to open his mouth to explain that lawyers aren’t allowed in interrogations, but Lewis just shakes her head, so he subsides and watches the student stomp out of the room.
As the door swings closed, Wolfrom says, “I wish they would stop getting legal advice from American cop shows.”
“That’s life, Wolfie.”
“Wouldn’t you think he’d be friends with the vic, he was out searching for her. You think he’s the doer?”
Lewis shrugs. “No idea. But did you see the “Free Byron” button on his backpack?”
“No.” Wolfrom frowns. “What’s that mean?”
“It means this Sumner kid supports the G20 protesters.”
“Oh shit.”
Lewis says, “Since all cops are assholes, talking to us is bad.”
“But that was nothing to do with us. That was Toronto.”
“Tell it to the Internet.”
“Yeah.” Wolfrom sighs. “And that crazy Boingboing.”
“All I know is it makes the job that much more impossible. Let’s just hope that they’re not all like that, ’cause if they are we’ll never catch this fuckin’ perp.”
