4
1892 Words
Naomi stood in the precinct lobby checking her watch. It was six o’clock; she had come early because she was eager to see what Mr. Sanchez was going to do. The front door opened and in came Mr. Sanchez looking rushed. “I’m sorry I’m late I had a meeting that ran long.”
“You’re right on time.” She smiled.
“Ok let’s get this over with.”
“Did you get Kobee out of Rikers?” She asked as they approached the desk.
“He’ll be transferred in the morning.”
“Really? You did it?” She was so grateful, she could have kissed him.
“We would like to speak to Detectives Ware and Berks.” He said to the officer behind the desk. They waited a few minutes and then an escort opened the security locked door and walked them into the back where the desks were.
Naomi saw the two men that had dragged her brother from his bed.
Detective Cameron Ware was a black man with his head shaved clean and a patch of dark freckles over the bridge of his wide nose. He looked like he had been in a suit but he’d removed his tie and draped his suit jacket over the back of his office chair. He was relaxing back in his chair looking tired like he hadn’t slept in days.
Detective Roger Berks was an ageing white man with short light blonde hair and a nineteen seventies mustache. Like his partner, he was in a sloppy suit, but instead of relaxing he was looking over a file in front of him.
Both detectives looked up when they saw Mr. Sanchez coming. “Detectives, I’m Brandon Sanchez, I’m representing Kobee Lee. You arrested him a few days ago.”
“Yes, the sick f**k who raped and brutalized a perfectly nice young woman.” Detective Ware snarled.
“Hey,” Naomi snapped, “That’s my baby brother he is not sick…” Mr. Sanchez shot her a nasty glare. A silent reprimand for losing her temper. She had promised to observe and not speak.
Mr. Sanchez returned his attention to the officers. “The alleged suspect.” He corrected them.
“There was nothing alleged about it. He butchered that poor girl.” Detective Berks said.
“My brother is a victim of misidentification.” She couldn’t contain herself.
“A victim. No this is the victim.” Detective Berks growled opening a file and holding the crime scene photos up for them both to see. “This girl, she’s the victim. Look at her, look what he did to her.”
Naomi had to look away she couldn’t look at the pictures they were grotesque. There was so much blood. That poor girl is laying in the blood and mud next to a dumpster like trash. It was horrible, she felt terrible for her family but seeing the picture only confirmed in her mind that Kobee could never have done this.
Mr. Sanchez took the photos and looked closely at each one. Naomi watched his reaction closely, but he didn’t react at all. She wondered how many photos like this he’d seen. “If you have a few minutes I’d like to ask you a few questions.” He said flipping to the next photo.
“Shouldn’t you get all your information from the prosecution?” Detective Ware asked with a condescending tone.
“I’m more hands on. I prefer to hear the story from the horse’s mouth over reading it in a brief. So, I’d like to speak with you if you have the time.”
“Can’t you wait until the trial?” Detective Berks asked being uncooperative.
“Would you rather answer my questions then, because I have no problem making you look incompetent in front of a judge and jury if that’s the way you would rather do this?” Wow, He was a bulldog. He went right for the jugular. She liked that.
“Fine, we have a few minutes.” Detective Ware said sitting back down. “Ask your questions.”
Mr. Sanchez pulled up a chair from an empty desk and gestured for Naomi to sit down. He then grabbed another chair for himself. He then placed the photos on the desk in front of him and opened his briefcase, removed a notepad and a pen. He handed both to Naomi. “Take notes.” He then picked the photos back up and inspected them closer making a thoughtful sound. “Were you two the responding officers?”
“Yes.” Detective Ware answered.
“When did you discover the body?”
“One-thirty.”
“How did you discover the body?”
“A shopkeeper was working late and taking out the trash he discovered the body and called it in.” Detective Berks answered.
“You arrested my client at three in the morning. One and a half hours and you already solved the case. That’s some detective work.”
“Is there a question in that?” Detective Ware asked sounding exasperated.
“What evidence did you have that led you to Kobee Lee?”
“We were investigating the scene and knocking on the doors of the surrounding building asking for witnesses. We didn’t want to lose the trail. Look at that girl; wouldn’t that sight spur you into action?”
“So, you interviewed witnesses you woke up in the middle of the night? People that were groggy and perhaps confused because of the hour.”
“We found three people that say they saw your client leaving the alley at the time of the murder.” Detective Berks said confidently.
“Well, I read the police report and the witness statements. Two of your witnesses say they saw an Asian teenager in baggy clothes and a hat that shadowed his face. An Asian kid in China Town? That could be a hundred different people; it’s hardly an identification.”
“We still had one witness that says she saw his face and she knew the boy. She gave us his name and told us where he lived.” Detective Ware added with a bitter tone.
Mr. Sanchez looked down at the pictures again. “Yes, Mrs. Ping Lou, an eighty-six-year-old grandmother with glaucoma looking out her window in the middle of the night without her glasses on. Isn’t it possible she may have only thought she knew who it was? I mean you had my client in your custody for six hours, and you didn’t bring your eyewitness in for a lineup? That’s sloppy detective work.”
“We got the right person.” Detective Berks said defensively.
Mr. Sanchez made another thoughtful sound as he studied the pictures. “Look at this bloody mess. It’s horrific. One and a half hours and you had your suspect. I assume when you arrested my client he was covered in blood?”
“No.” Detective Ware said.
“Really?” He held up one of the pictures for the detectives to look at. “All this blood and he didn’t get a drop on him?”
“He had the time to shower and change.” Detective Berks defended their collar.
“Did you search my client’s apartment or the surrounding alleys and dumpsters?”
“Of course.” Detective Ware snapped.
“Did you find any bloody clothes? Did you find any blood in the bathtub or drain, any sign that there had been blood that someone tried to clean up?”
Both detectives went quiet for a long moment. “No.” Detective Berks finally answered.
“So, in one and half hours, with no inclination that you would catch up to him so quickly he showered, cleaned up, and disposed of his bloody clothes, but you found no blood on anything, not even a single trace? Didn’t you find that odd? Tell me you at the very least have the murder weapon and my client’s fingerprints on it?” They both looked at one another but said nothing. “You don’t have the knife either?” He chuckled. “Ok, I’ll meet you halfway. You’ve been on the job for like what twenty-five years? I bet you’ve seen tons of stabbing victims and caught lots of perps. So, let me ask you this, most inexperienced criminals that use a knife, don’t they usually cut themselves in the process. A little nick here or there on their hands from the knife slipping? And given the amount of blood all over the crime scene, I’d dare say the knife would be slippery and hard to hold onto without cutting one’s self. Would that be a fair assumption?”
“Yes.”
“Did you find any such cuts on my client’s hands? Any wounds on him at all? Bruises maybe on his face or arms from the victim fighting back? Scratches from the victim’s nails? Bite marks? Anything… anything at all?”
“We did find skin flakes under the victim’s nails; it’s with the DNA lab right now.” Detective Ware informed them.
Mr. Sanchez smiled. “Great, I love DNA it’s so conclusive. So, you found skin flakes but no scratch marks on my client? You see the puzzle is not coming together for me quite the way it did for you, and I’d like to think I’m a reasonable man, and if it doesn’t sound right to me, I have a good feeling that I can find at the very least one more person that agrees with me. And all it takes is one person. Just one person on a jury to say ‘this ain’t right’ and my client goes free. You see I think your entire case is smoke and mirrors and a good lawyer can tear it apart in a court of law.” He then smiled an easy sly smile of confidence. “I’m a good lawyer. I suggest you take a second look at your case. Dot the I’s and cross the T’s before we meet at trial because with the case you have, I’ll make you look incompetent. I think it will make great headlines, ‘Inept police railroads Asian teen,’ and yes I will point out the fact that the DA is not colour blind and neither are the detectives investigating.” He then took the pad and pen from Naomi and returned it to his briefcase. He handed the pictures back to the detectives. “Good-night Detectives. Can’t wait to see you again.” He then turned and walked away.
- Writer
