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The Violin Conspiracy(87)

Author:Brendan Slocumb

“ID. Now,” the older officer said. He shifted his hand from his belt to his holster.

Dante’s smile broadened.

Ray glared at both Markses as he reached for his wallet.

“Whoa there, chief. Slowly,” said the younger cop.

“My name is Ray McMillian. I’m a concert violinist—see, this is my violin? I’m here from out of town and I’m just trying to get some dinner before I go back to my hotel.”

“I didn’t ask you any of that, chief. I just need to see some ID. Now.”

“I’m going to reach into my back pocket, okay?” Slowly he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He was fumbling for his driver’s license as another police car pulled up. Several bystanders and people inside the diner held up their phones, filming him.

“Thank goodness you showed up when you did, Officer,” Andrea gushed, as if she had just been rescued from a serial rapist. “I was worried he was about to get violent.”

“Fuck you,” Ray said to her.

“You see, Officer? All we want is for him to return some property that belongs to us and he goes off and calls us names and threatens us.”

“I need you to put your hands behind your back while my partner runs your name to see what your deal is,” the older cop said.

“What? See what my deal is? You don’t ask these three nutcases for their IDs. I didn’t threaten them. Why am I being cuffed?”

“Because you are being very aggressive and these people seem to fear for their safety. Now put your hands behind your back.”

“Oh, I get it. Angry Black man dangerous. Protect innocent white folk. This is bull.”

“I suggest for your own good that you keep your mouth shut.” Metal cuffs, warmed from the police officer’s body, curled and wrapped around Ray’s wrists. Nervously he kept reaching up with a finger or two to touch the violin case on his back, as if he needed extra reassurance that it was still there. The younger officer took Ray’s wallet and retrieved his driver’s license. Two more patrol cars pulled up. “Gentlemen, ma’am, why don’t you go inside and give this officer a statement while we check this guy out.”

“Thank you, Officer. Come, my dear. Are you okay?” Dante asked his sister, and then smiled toothily at Ray.

He stood in the cold as the Marks siblings and their tall companion were coddled in the diner, probably ordering coffee and onion rings. Ray kept touching the violin case to make sure it was closed. Inside, Dante, Andrea, and the tall man were talking to the younger officer, pointing and glaring at Ray.

A few moments later, the police officer came out of the diner. “Those people claim you have their stolen property. What’s that on your back?” The officer stepped forward. Ray’s fingertips instinctively reached for the case.

“It’s my violin. I’m a musician. I was just on 60 Minutes—go google me. My name is—”

“Open it up. Let me see.”

“Take off these cuffs and I will.” He was trembling from rage and impotence. He kept saying to himself that one word over and over, his mantra: respect. No matter what. He’d gone overboard with the Markses. Right now he just had to get out of this situation before it escalated further, became Baton Rouge all over again.

“Officer, I’m a musician. I just played a recital at Jordan Hall. My violin is inside. I don’t want to take it out on the sidewalk. Exposure to this cold isn’t good for it. It’s very fragile and very valuable.”

“Got it,” said the fat cop. “Open up the case, sir, or we can do this down at the station.”

“Okay,” Ray said. “Take off these cuffs and I’ll open it right up. Let me just confirm, though, that you want me to open a ten-million-dollar instrument in the middle of a city street while it’s snowing?” A few fat flakes drifted down. “Are you sure that Boston wants this kind of lawsuit if something goes wrong? Not to mention the publicity? This violin costs more than your whole department. I just want you to confirm this first, chief.”

The cop eyed him, then the diner. “I guess we can go inside if you don’t interact with the individuals who are already there?”

“Sounds great,” Ray said. He stood, handcuffed, in front of the glass-and-metal door, waited for the cop to pull the door open. He waited again at the inner door.

Dante, Andrea, and the tall guy were standing near the counter, and they all stepped back as if terrified to be in the same space with Ray.

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