The Night Gardener by George Pelecanos Read Free Book Online Page A

you were wearing. You know the blood on the clothing and the knife is going to match your wife’s blood. And the skin under your wife’s fingernails is gonna be the same skin got took off your face, from that cut you got right there. So William, why don’t we get this done?”
    “Detective, I don’t remember.”
    “Did you use the knife we found in the bag to stab your wife, William?”
    Tyree made a clucking sound with his tongue. His eyes were heavy with tears. “If you say I did, then I guess I did.”
    “You guess you did or you did?”
    Tyree nodded. “I did.”
    “You did what?”
    “I stabbed Jackie with that knife.”
    Green sat back and folded his hands on his ample belly. Tyree dragged on his cigarette and tapped its ash into a heavy piece of foil.
    “I gotta hand it to Bo,” said Antonelli. “He’s good with them hootleheads.”
    Ramone said nothing.
    Ramone and Antonelli watched and listened as William Tyree told the rest of the story. After stabbing his wife, he had taken her car and, using all the cash in her wallet, bought more crack. He then proceeded to smoke it in various pockets of Southeast. He didn’t eat or sleep all night. He rented Jackie’s car out to two different men. He used her credit card to buy gas for the hack and also for cash advances to buy more rock. He stayed high and without a plan, except to wait for the police, who he knew would eventually come. He had never done anything remotely criminal before on the violent end and had no knowledge of the underground. He didn’t know how to hide. And if he were to run, he could think of no place to go.
    When Tyree was talked out, Green asked him to stand and remove his belt and shoelaces. Tyree complied, then sat back down in his chair. He cried a little, and afterward wiped the tears off his face with the back of his hand.
    “You all right?” said Green.
    “I’m tired,” said Tyree very softly. “I don’t wanna be here no more.”
    “No shit,” said Antonelli. “You shoulda thought of that before you killed her.”
    Ramone did not comment. He knew that Tyree was not speaking about being held in the box. He was saying that he didn’t want to be in this world any longer. Green had sensed it, too. It was why he had taken Tyree’s shoelaces and belt.
    “You want a sandwich, somethin?” said Green.
    “Nah.”
    “I can go to Subway.”
    “I’m good.”
    Green looked at his watch, then up at the camera, and said, “Five thirteen.” He walked from the interrogation room as Tyree reached for a cigarette.
    Ramone’s eyes thanked Green as he came out of the box. The two of them and Rhonda Willis walked to their cubicles, situated in a kind of triangle. They were senior detectives in the unit and friends.
    Green sat down and Ramone did the same, immediately reaching for the phone to call his wife. He did this several times a day and always when he closed a case. There was still much work to be done on this one, especially paperwork, but for now the detectives would allow themselves a small break.
    Detective Antonelli and Detective Mike Bakalis took seats nearby. Antonelli, a Gold’s Gym enthusiast, was short, broad shouldered, and narrow waisted. He was called Plug to his face and Butt Plug to his back by his fellow detectives. Bakalis, because of his prominent beak, was called Aardvark and sometimes Baklava. Bakalis was there to type a subpoena into his computer, but he hated to type anything and had only been talking about it all day.
    Over the desks of the detectives were corkboards, many displaying photos of children, wives, and other relatives alongside death photos of victims and apprehended but unconvicted perps who had become obsessions. Crucifixes, pictures of saints, and psalm quotes were in abundance. Many of the VCB detectives were devout Christians, others only claimed they were, and some had lost their faith in God completely. Divorce was fairly common among them. Conversely, there were those who had managed