"What? You can't just leave now, Detective!" interrupted the doctor who'd been standing in the corner of the room while they were talking. "You lost a lot of blood, Mister. You should be resting." Cole and Bekowsky both shot him a look. The doctor raised his hands in defeat. "Alright, none of you guys ever listens to me anyways."
A few minutes later they were back on the road in one of the LAPDs black cars that looked just like the one they'd used while working the traffic desk. Cole was behind the wheel this time. He'd insisted because he didn't really trust Bekowsky's accountabilty yet. But driving was difficult since he couldn't lean back against the seat 'cause it was simply too painful for his back. He figured that his position looked pretty strange and awkward at the moment but he honestly didn't care.
"I'm sorry for what happened to your car..." he tried to get a conversation going. "It looked bad." "Yeah I guess so, although I didn't see it. Maybe it's better that way, it could have broken my heart." Stefan chuckled a bit. "But the chief promised me that the LAPD would pay for the repairs since the accident happened on the job. Said there's an insurance for these cases..." "They better improve the roof...but that's very fair of him." Cole had to admit that he really started to like Mason. "Jup, Mason's a good man."
They arrived at the address only about 20 minutes later. It was a nice white apartment house in a quiet neighborhoud. "Let's check this place out!" Bekowsky seemed to be very enthusiastic and walked ahead while Cole followed him more slowly. He still felt a bit dizzy because of the blood loss he'd suffered. They stepped up into the entry hall of the building. Cole quickly studied the sign next to the stairwell. "It's apartment 4." They ascended the stairs and quickly found the right door. Cole pounded his fist against it. Some seconds passed. "Maybe he's not home..." suggested Bekowsky. "Where should he be? His wife just died!"
"Who's this?" came suddenly a low voice from inside. "LAPD, sir. We need to speak to you." The door finally opened. Mr. Black was a tall man looking like a well-trained sportsman. He wore his brown hair very short in an almost military manner. He was wearing jeans and a polo-shirt. "Whatcha want?" something about his pronunciation was strange. "I'm detective Phelps and this is my partner Bekowsky. We'd like to ask you some questions concerning your wife's death." "What's there to talk about? Told me it was a heart-attack." he simply stated followed by a hiccup. Suddenly Cole could also smelled the strong scent of alcohol the man emitted. He exchanged a look with Bekowsky who'd also realized it. This was gonna get difficult. "May we come in?" Black only made an indifferent gesture with his right arm showing them inside. Cole and Stefan stepped in.
The appartment was small but nice decorated. It was obvious that a woman with a nice taste had selected the furniture. Black slumped down in an armchair. Cole and Bekowsky took a seat on the coach in front of it. "Mr. Black, we have reasons to believe that your wife was exposed to some kind of drug which may have led to her death. Do you know anything about that?" The man didn't respond and just kept staring at his hands. Then he reached out to the sidetable to grab a bottle of whiskey of which he then took a huge sip. "No offense, sir but I think you've got enough of that." said Cole carefully, stood up and tried to wrench the bottle away from him. But Black was fast and held the bottle close to his chest as if it was his newborn child. Cole sighed and sat back again. "Mr. Black, please collaborate or otherwise we'll have to take you downtown." Again he got no response at all.
"Cole, that fella is dead drunk. I don't think we'll get anything useful out of him now." whispered Bekowsky to his right. But Cole wasn't willing to give it up yet. "We got no time for this!"
He stood up again, grabbed the man by the shoulder and pulled him to the door that had the word bathroom written on it. "Cole what are you doing?" called Stefan behind him. Black didn't even defend himself against Cole's firm grip and let him drag him into the bathroom. Cole violently shoved him into the shower and turned on the cold water. He then quickly stepped away to not get himself wet and waited. The ice-cold water poured down on the dazed man and he started to wake a little more. "What – what are you doing man?" he stammered. "Mr. Black, do you think you can answer some questions now?" asked Cole who really wanted to end these stupid games. The man suddenly started to look very desperate. "It's my fault!" he suddenly cried out. "What is you fault?" "That she's dead!" "Did you kill her?" "No...no it wasn't me but...I may have engaged someone..." Black stared at his hands again. "You wanted your wife dead?" Black pulled his knees up to his chin, slinged his arms around the legs and started to shift for- and backwards. "Mr. Black!" yelled Cole but the man didn't respond. He suddenly felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Let him be, Cole. We should take him to the station to get him sobered up." said Stefan soothingly. "But we need these answers now, Stefan!" replied Cole who still wasn't willing to give the interrogation up. "Who did you engage, Mr. Black? Give us a name or you'll be in serious trouble!" but the man only continued to shift around in the shower cabin without saying a word. "I'll call it in and have a black and white pick him up..." said Bekowsky and left the room.
Cole had to accept that he wouldn't be getting another proper sentence from Black for some time. Frustrated he turned off the shower and brought Black back into the living room. He placed him into the armchair again and sat down on the couch to observe him while Bekowksky went down to the car to call for backup. "You're in serious trouble, Mister. Who did you engage and what kind of drug did this person use?" he made one last attempt to get the other man to speak. But he just kept staring on the floor, wide-eyed and shaking his head. "Listen if you give me a name I might be able to lessen the charges pressed against you." Still no response. Cole sighed. "If you want it the hard way, you can get it..." Stefan returned about five minutes later. "Reinforcement's on the way. Guess we'll have to sit that one out."
They had sat there in silence for about ten minutes when they suddenly heard a knocking on the door. Bekowsky raised his eyebrows. "Wow, that was fast..." he stood up to open the door for the policemen. Cole stayed where he was not letting their suspect out of sight. "Wha – who are you?" "Bekowsky, LAPD. Mind telling me what you want here?" Then all of a sudden there was the sound of a loud punch. Cole jumped to his feet and was by his partner's side within seconds. Stefan held a hand against his bleeding nose. "Get him, Cole! I'll keep an eye on Black!"