Free Eat'em by Chase Webster Page B

together.
    “Sustained.”
    Bellecroix leans back and rolls his head toward the ceiling, intentionally avoiding eye contact with me. At the beginning of the trial he looked at me only with contempt, scowling at every turn, but now he just looks tired. His cheeks droop with sleeplessness. His lips crack from dehydration. His eyes no longer burn with rage.
    “It’s not how he looks,” Bellecroix continues. “It’s the way he looks. It’s how he behaves.”
    “How does he behave?” Gomes asks.
    “First time I seen him,” Bellecroix says, “We’d gotten a lot of calls some kid is walking down Cooper Street covered in blood. And, I mean, he’s head-to-toe covered. It’s on his shirt, it’s in his hair, it’s on his shoes. I know spray patterns when I see them. I’ve seen enough, and I know, this kid was just involved in something bad. So, I pick him up and bring him in.”
    Bellecroix studies me the same way he did then. As if he never could get the image out of his head.
    “I can’t – not – bring him in looking like that,” he continues. “In the car, he doesn’t say anything. Just stares blankly out the window. I asked him if he’s okay. I told him it wasn’t an arrest. But he’s just silent. Not shaken. Just silent. It’s like he’s coming up with a story to tell. That’s the vibe I get from him.”
    “A vibe?” Gomes asks.
    “Well, yeah,” Bellecroix says, “I’m not a mind reader. I got a vibe. Now, I’m not thinking he necessarily did something bad. Maybe he was a victim. Someone’s obviously really hurt. Maybe he was in shock. He ain’t talking.
    “We have our procedures. We start by interviewing him three different times. He doesn’t get a word out with me, so he talks to someone else and then one more officer after that. Then we have him write out his account for the day, everything that happened in as much detail as he can. That’s the first time he mentions a dog.”
    “A dog?” Gomes lifts an eyebrow toward me. “His dog?”
    “Yeah,” Bellecroix says, “He wrote that he had a dog get out. Run into some razor wire. He finds it and gets bloodied up when he’s trying to get it out.”
    I remember the day. I remember the trail of lies I spun. I remember how hard it had been to fight the need to let someone in. The lieutenant seemed trusting… a deceiver in his own right.
    Bellecroix continues, “I asked him what kind of dog. Mastiff, he tells me. Named General Lee. I tell him interesting choice in names and I ask him, like Dukes of Hazard, huh? He says, yes. He’s relaxing a bit.”
    Gomes holds up a hand and says, “General Lee. That’s the famous name of a Civil War general, isn’t it? Sounds similar to another case you…”
    “Objection!” Big Mike slams both hands on the table as he jerks upward. “Leading the witness.”
    Judge Brentt nods and warns Gomes to stay on topic.
    “I was merely breaking ice with Mr. Brook,” the lieutenant says. “Trying to get him to open up. At that point it was just important for us to find out if the blood he is covered in belongs to somebody that might need help or worse yet be dead. But when it came down to it, when we told him we needed to get DNA from his clothing, he said the fourth amendment protects him from unwarranted search and seizure. He said if we weren’t charging him, he wouldn’t let us take a sample. Said it was his right to not have police desecrate his pet more so than what’d already been done. There was nothing we could do.”
    “So your hands were tied?” Gomes asks.
    “Our hands were tied,” Bellecroix says. “He called his uncle to pick him up and that was it.
    “How could I not be suspicious after that? Do you know how many people come into my precinct and have the Bill of Rights memorized? Recite the Fourth Amendment? To this day… one. Is it an important document everyone should know? Sure… but nobody does. Except for Jacob. Jacob, who is picked up from the side of the road after