said. “I wouldn’t make too much of it.”
Juhle nodded. “Good enough. We’ll try not to rush to judgment. Maybe you want to play the tape?”
“Sure.”
For most of the next hour, they finished their coffee and listened without comment. After the interview ended and Waverly had shut off the tape recorder, Juhle drew in a breath and said, “So, it wasn’t clear to me. What was Treadway’s relationship to Anlya?”
“He’s the CASA for her twin brother. So they got to know each other over the last couple of years.”
“Platonically?”
Waverly made a face. “Unknown.”
“Really?” Juhle looked over to Yamashiro. “Ken? You hear anything different?”
“When they went out, they called it a date night. They had their secret spot where they met up. He signed the picture of him ‘All my love.’ ”
“Figures of speech,” Waverly said. “He wouldn’t have used those terms if he was trying to hide anything. He was very matter-of-fact about it.”
“But the fact remains,” Juhle said, “he took this seventeen-year-old girl out for a dinner alone, just the two of them. The same one who, according to her diary, was going to tell him that she loved him. And then, as far as we know, he’s the last person to have seen her alive.”
Showing some frustration at this direction, Waverly shook his head. “Dev. That was like three hours before she went over the tunnel.”
“How do we know that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Imean, how do we know he wasn’t with her until she went over?”
“His statement is that when they finished, he left her to go shopping.”
Yamashiro asked, “He just left her in Chinatown on her own?”
“She was seventeen and wanted to go shopping. Why not?”
“Not saying it didn’t happen,” Juhle said, “but do we know what he did when he left her off?”
“He says he went home.”
Juhle prodded, “Anybody see him? Does he have a roommate?”
Waverly shook his head. “You heard everything I got, Lieutenant. He doesn’t have an alibi. Do I have to say again that this was a cooperating voluntary witness?”
“No, I got that, but I’m not sure we’re looking at what we know the same way. You want to hear my equally plausible explanation of the facts as we know them? Probably not, but here goes: We’ve got a young male in a relationship with an even younger female, taking her out on what he calls a date night. They meet at their special spot, and he takes her out to a nice sit-down dinner in Chinatown. The very second the girl’s death makes the television, he happens to be with a defense lawyer—hell, two defense lawyers.”
Waverly said, “Who let him sit in the back with me and say whatever he wanted.”
Juhle held up his hand, acknowledging the valid point: Most experienced defense attorneys were reluctant to let their clients talk much during interviews with the police. But he wasn’t finished. “Finally, for all we know, Mr. Treadway was the last person to see the victim alive. My point isn’t that I think this guy’s a slam-dunk suspect. It’s more that there are a few real reasons to think he’s simply a good citizen trying to help us out. He wouldn’t be the first guy to try that head fake. And given our time frame here, it would really piss me off if we fell for it and lost a couple of days without looking any further at Mr. Treadway. If in fact he was our guy.”
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” Waverly said. “I don’t believe I’ve heard anything about a specific time frame. So you’re saying we’ve got one?”
“Essentially, yes,” Juhle said.
“What is it?” Yamashiro asked.
“Fast,” Juhle said.
• • •
A KNOCK ON Max’s door.
It had to be his auntie. She was the only one in the apartment with him. But he had come into his room because he didn’t think he could deal with anybody, even Juney.
How would he deal with anybody or anything ever again?
He still didn’t know what to do, didn’t know
Juhle nodded. “Good enough. We’ll try not to rush to judgment. Maybe you want to play the tape?”
“Sure.”
For most of the next hour, they finished their coffee and listened without comment. After the interview ended and Waverly had shut off the tape recorder, Juhle drew in a breath and said, “So, it wasn’t clear to me. What was Treadway’s relationship to Anlya?”
“He’s the CASA for her twin brother. So they got to know each other over the last couple of years.”
“Platonically?”
Waverly made a face. “Unknown.”
“Really?” Juhle looked over to Yamashiro. “Ken? You hear anything different?”
“When they went out, they called it a date night. They had their secret spot where they met up. He signed the picture of him ‘All my love.’ ”
“Figures of speech,” Waverly said. “He wouldn’t have used those terms if he was trying to hide anything. He was very matter-of-fact about it.”
“But the fact remains,” Juhle said, “he took this seventeen-year-old girl out for a dinner alone, just the two of them. The same one who, according to her diary, was going to tell him that she loved him. And then, as far as we know, he’s the last person to have seen her alive.”
Showing some frustration at this direction, Waverly shook his head. “Dev. That was like three hours before she went over the tunnel.”
“How do we know that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Imean, how do we know he wasn’t with her until she went over?”
“His statement is that when they finished, he left her to go shopping.”
Yamashiro asked, “He just left her in Chinatown on her own?”
“She was seventeen and wanted to go shopping. Why not?”
“Not saying it didn’t happen,” Juhle said, “but do we know what he did when he left her off?”
“He says he went home.”
Juhle prodded, “Anybody see him? Does he have a roommate?”
Waverly shook his head. “You heard everything I got, Lieutenant. He doesn’t have an alibi. Do I have to say again that this was a cooperating voluntary witness?”
“No, I got that, but I’m not sure we’re looking at what we know the same way. You want to hear my equally plausible explanation of the facts as we know them? Probably not, but here goes: We’ve got a young male in a relationship with an even younger female, taking her out on what he calls a date night. They meet at their special spot, and he takes her out to a nice sit-down dinner in Chinatown. The very second the girl’s death makes the television, he happens to be with a defense lawyer—hell, two defense lawyers.”
Waverly said, “Who let him sit in the back with me and say whatever he wanted.”
Juhle held up his hand, acknowledging the valid point: Most experienced defense attorneys were reluctant to let their clients talk much during interviews with the police. But he wasn’t finished. “Finally, for all we know, Mr. Treadway was the last person to see the victim alive. My point isn’t that I think this guy’s a slam-dunk suspect. It’s more that there are a few real reasons to think he’s simply a good citizen trying to help us out. He wouldn’t be the first guy to try that head fake. And given our time frame here, it would really piss me off if we fell for it and lost a couple of days without looking any further at Mr. Treadway. If in fact he was our guy.”
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” Waverly said. “I don’t believe I’ve heard anything about a specific time frame. So you’re saying we’ve got one?”
“Essentially, yes,” Juhle said.
“What is it?” Yamashiro asked.
“Fast,” Juhle said.
• • •
A KNOCK ON Max’s door.
It had to be his auntie. She was the only one in the apartment with him. But he had come into his room because he didn’t think he could deal with anybody, even Juney.
How would he deal with anybody or anything ever again?
He still didn’t know what to do, didn’t know
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