Free Fubar by Ron Carpol Page A

thin, scared voice.
    â€œYou can bring one if you want. But it’s a waste of money. Because no matter what, nobody’s going to get arrested that day. This is an ongoing investigation. We’re trying to clear as many people as soon as possible.”
    â€œThere’s other suspects besides us?” I asked.
    She nodded. “Yes. Like I said, this is an ongoing investigation.”
    â€œYou got nothing on me,” I challenged.
    She smiled a little. “Don’t be so sure, Mr. Rollover.” Then she turned around and walked out of the room.
    â€œWho’s Mr. Rollover?” Lyman asked.
    â€œI got no idea,” I answered.
    Watson was standing in the doorway. “She’s gone,” he mumbled a few seconds later. “Now what do we do?”
    Vysell and Batman and Lyman walked in together, all looking as jittery as the rest of us.
    I looked at the three of them. “What did you guys say or not say that got you off the hook?”
    Batman shrugged his shoulders. “Denied everything. Like you said. That I never touched the ugly bitch.”
    â€œWhat about you?” I asked Vysell.
    â€œSame thing. That I never touched her.”
    â€œMe too,” Lyman answered.
    â€œThen why are we here?” Watson asked Castle.
    â€œI don’t know. I denied everything too. And it was the truth.”
    â€œYou admit anything?” Holmes asked Watson.
    â€œNo. I denied that I ever fucked her without her consent. I just told the cop that this girl had the hottest pussy on campus. That she’d come over almost every night and sometimes even during the day and fuck us both. I kept repeating it: that everything was with her consent.”
    â€œYou tell her anything else?”
    â€œCop wanted to know if I fucked her at the Christmas party.”
    â€œWhat’d you say?”
    â€œThat I didn’t. I fucked her later that night at our apartment.”
    â€œUse a rubber?” I asked.
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œWhat’d you tell her?” Watson asked Holmes.
    â€œI denied everything.” He swallowed hard. “Going to get a lawyer?” he asked weakly.
    â€œShe said we didn’t need one,” Watson answered.
    â€œEven if we did,” Froggy muttered, “how can I tell my parents? They’ll pull me out of school. And I got no money for a lawyer.”
    â€œSame with me,” Watson answered.
    â€œMe, too,” Holmes muttered. “Let’s see what happens at the line-up.” He looked at me. “You getting a lawyer?”
    â€œHell no. Why should I? I didn’t do anything.”

9
M Y O WN S HYSTER
    Friday, January 3
    T HE LAWYER, WHO WAS IN HIS EARLY 50 S , leaned so far back in his swivel chair that I thought that maybe he wanted me to give him a shampoo or a facial.
    â€œOK,” he sighed, closing his heavy-lidded eyes. “What’s your story?”
    â€œMr. Nuppi, I’m innocent.”
    â€œSo who the fuck cares?”
    â€œI’m not guilty, that’s what.”
    â€œAll my clients are guilty. You’d be the first guy in five years that wasn’t.”
    â€œWell, I’m not.”
    â€œOK. Fine. So what’s your story already?”
    I told him the same story about Lyman and the will. And about Lyman and Headlights getting Frizzhead to lie about me raping her so I’d be in jail and Lyman would get the money. Exactly what I told Dirty Harriet.
    When I finished he opened his tired, dark-ringed eyes and sat up again, with a big smile on his face. “You’ll get a lot of laughs with that story when you tell it on the yard at San Quentin.”
    â€œIt’s true.”
    â€œWho the fuck cares? Nobody will buy it.”
    â€œYou got a better story for me?”
    â€œLet’s work on it.” He paused for a few seconds. “Other than what you told me, is there any other reason she’d frame you?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œMore than