toward the door by the chain between his handcuffs. I stood next to the door as they moved past me and down the hallway, to the windowless door to the holding cells.
âHeâs upset,â Vigue grunted.
It was fifteen minutes before they came out of the cell area. I could hear the ponytailed man hollering inside.
âIâll kill you. Come on, Vigue, you pussy. Take off that gun and come in here, you wuss. You pussy, you wuss. You pussy, you wuss.â
It almost had a rhythm to it. A cell-block mantra.
Vigue waved me into his office as he crossed the hall. I stood and waited as he fished for cigarettes, first in his jacket and then in the top desk drawer.
âYou want to interview my friend?â he asked. âNice fella. His girlfriend called. Trailer out in East Overshoe, past Androscoggin village. Girl calls when he says heâs gonna cut her up and feed her to the Doberman. Gonna cook her, she says, and feed her to the dog. One rugged son of a bitch, Iâll tell ya. Frigginâ blotto, and it still took four of us to take him down. A couple of country boys came by and helped us out. Iâm telling you, Iâll take a drunk over one of these cokeheads anytime, mister. When we got there, he was cutting a hole in the bathroom door with a knife and the girl had gone out the back of the trailer. Maced the bastard, I mean but good, and he still wanted to fight.â
Vigue sat down on his desk and lit a cigarette.
âGetting too frigginâ old for this, Iâll tell ya.â
He exhaled.
âWhat do you want anyway. A story?â
âIf youâve got one kicking around.â
âGot one kicking the cell around, if you want.â
I smiled. Waited.
âNo, I talked to the ME a while ago. After lunch. He said Arthur was an accidental drowning.â
Vigue inhaled and waited.
âSo I have a couple of questions.â
âSo ask âem.â
LeMaire, J. walked by in the hallway, wiping his hands on a paper towel.
âWere the state cops here at all?â I asked. âAnd two, does this mean your investigation is finished?â
The guy in the cell stopped yelling. A door slammed. Vigue glanced past me toward the cells and then back at me.
âI donât keep tabs on the state boys,â he said. âThey donât ask for my help, if you know what I mean. But they did call and I told them what I had so far. As far as their coming here or going to the scene, youâd have to ask them.â
âWho was it who called?â
âHoag. Detective.â
âSo who did go to the scene?â I asked.
âWe did.â
âWent to the scene?â
âYeah. We inspected the scene. SOP.â
âLooking for what? What do you look for in a case like this?â
My notebook was out of my parka pocket. I reached for a pen from my shirt. Vigue glanced at the notebook, then looked back at me.
âThey teach it at the academy. Crime scene. My first job is to keep it secure. That was our primary job here. But we also look for any sign of a struggle. You know, rocks missing off the wall, scuffs in the dirt. Anything. Pieces of clothing. Footprints.â
âFind anything?â
âThis for print?â
âIâd like it to be.â
âCanât tell ya. Ongoing investigation.â
âCome on,â I said.
âCanât do it. Iâd like to but I canât. AG would have me by the balls. Iâm telling ya.â
âOkay. Off the record.â
Vigue hopped off the desk, showing me that he was almost fifty but still in great shape.
âThere wasnât much to see. Thatâs the truth. That wall is all frigginâ granite. Granite blocks. You donât get sneaker prints off granite blocks. Besides, there were fifty frigginâ people there, including the press. Boat came in and busted the ice into a million pieces. You beginning to get the picture?â
âSo youâve got
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