When she finished emptying out, Betsy Riggins went. Marcy slipped into the dining room, having no wish to share the hall bench again with Officer Shamu. The cops were going through Terry’s desk—raping his desk, really, all the drawers out, most of the contents piled on the floor. His computer had already been dismantled, the various components plastered with yellow stickers, as if in preparation for a tag sale.
Marcy thought, An hour ago the most important thing in my life was a Golden Dragons win and a trip to the finals.
Betsy Riggins returned. “Oh, that’s so much better,” she said, sitting down at the dining room table. “And will be, for a whole fifteen minutes.”
Marcy opened her mouth and what almost came out was I hope your baby dies.
Instead of that she said, “It’s nice that someone’s feeling better. Even for fifteen minutes.”
16
Statement of Mr. Claude Bolton [July 13th, 4:30 PM, interviewed by Detective Ralph Anderson]
Detective Anderson: Well, Claude, it must be nice for you to be here when you’re not in trouble. Refreshing.
Bolton: You know, it kind of is. And to get a ride in the front of a police car instead of in the back. Ninety miles an hour most of the way back from Cap City. Lights, siren, the whole works. You’re right. It was nice.
Detective Anderson: What were you doing in Cap?
Bolton: Seeing the sights. Had a couple of nights off, so why not? No law against it, is there?
Detective Anderson: I understand you were seeing them with Carla Jeppeson, known as Pixie Dreamboat when she’s working.
Bolton: You should know, since she came back in the cruiser with me. She also appreciated the ride, by the way. Said it beat the hell out of Trailways.
Detective Anderson: And the sights you saw, most of those would have been in Room 509 of the Western Vista Motel out on Highway 40?
Bolton: Oh, we didn’t spend all our time there. Went to Bonanza for dinner twice. They give you a damn good meal there, and for cheap. Also, Carla wanted to go to the mall, so we spent some time there. They have a climbing wall, and I killed that sucker.
Detective Anderson: I’ll bet you did. Were you aware that a boy had been murdered here in Flint City?
Bolton: I might have seen something on the news. Listen, you don’t think I had anything to do with that, do you?
Detective Anderson: No, but you may have information concerning the person who did.
Bolton: How could I—
Detective Anderson: You work as a bouncer at Gentlemen, Please, isn’t that correct?
Bolton: I’m part of the security staff. We don’t use the term bouncer. Gentlemen, Please is a high-class establishment.
Detective Anderson: We won’t argue the point. You were working Tuesday night, I’m told. Didn’t leave FC until Wednesday afternoon.
Bolton: Was it Tony Ross told you me and Carla went to Cap City?
Detective Anderson: Yes.
Bolton: We got a rate at that motel because Tony’s uncle owns it. Tony was also on duty Tuesday night, that’s when I asked him to call his unc. We’re tight, me and Tony. We were on the door from four until eight, then in the pit from eight to midnight. The pit is in front of the stage, where the gentlemen sit.
Detective Anderson: Mr. Ross also told me that on or around eight thirty, you saw someone you recognized.
Bolton: Oh, you mean Coach T. Hey, you don’t think he was the one who did that kid, do you? Because Coach T’s a straight arrow. He coached Tony’s nephews in Pop Warner and in Little League. I was surprised to see him in our place, but not shocked. You’d never guess some of the people we see in the pit—bankers, lawyers, even a couple of men of the cloth. But it’s like they say about Vegas: what happens in Gent’s stays in—
Detective Anderson: Uh-huh, I’m sure you’re as discreet as priests in the confessional.
Bolton: Joke about it if you want, but we are. If you want repeat business, you have to be.
Detective Anderson: Also for the record, Claude, when you say Coach T, you’re talking about Terry Maitland.
Bolton: Sure.
Detective Anderson: Tell me how you happened to see him.
Bolton: We don’t spend all of our time in the pit, okay? There’s more to the job than that. Most of the time we’re there, circulating, making sure none of the guys get their hands on the girls, and stopping fights before they get going—when guys get randy, they also can get aggressive, you must know that in your line of work. But the pit’s not the only place trouble can start, it’s just the most likely place, so one of us stays there all the time. The other one floats—checks the bar, the little alcove where there’s a few video games and a coin-op pool table, the private dance cubbies, and of course the men’s room. That’s where your drug deals are apt to go down, and if we see them, we put a stop to them and kick the guys out.