IX – Sapientium Mensa

(The Wise Men' Table)

They were all talking behind the Interrogation Room door, McNab, Guster and the chief. There were no windows and so all the light were the neon lamps pouring down on their faces. Carlton had never thought to find himself on this side of the door, trying to squint hard enough through the glass square, to decipher frowns and pauses. The three of them were discussing about a burglary, and it had gone on for more than half an hour. The fact they were discussing about a burglary in his house made everything bordering on voyeuristic.

-It's your fault. It's all your fault.- Francesca said for the tenth time. – I knew it would end like this.-

-Keep calm, girl. The more you fret the more you get suspect.-

He was standing behind her chair, leaning lightly against the wall. Of course no one had seen him, but he had still managed to keep close to her all the way to the PD. It had not been a true trip however. just a hazy cloudy thing that projected him in the PD hall. He had decided he positively disliked the hazy things.

-I should not fret? You made me get arrested for trying to force a cop's house.-

-Listen, just answer their questions and try to look calm. And sit straighter on that chair.-

In exchange she dropped her head on the desk.

-I'm dead. They're going to call my parents. Merda. Merda merda merda.-

-Try not to swear too.-

-It's Italian, no one of you barbarians know it.- She lifted a bit from the table and cast an haunted look at the door. Carlton concluded he could excuse the insult out of stress. –Uhm, they don't look happy at all. They're calling my parents.- She let a sound dangerously close to a whimper.

-Now don't make a scene. We'll say you're some kind of relative. It will work.-

-It won't.-

-So we'll say you're a reporter, that you discovered my name after the warehouse shooting and tried to get a scoop coming to my house. You're legal and uncensored, it'll work.-

She turned to him. Bit her lip.

–Yes. Maybe.-

-Good. Now, low profile, girl. Nothing fancy. No hint at my condition. Follow me. And…-

The room door clicked open in that moment. The Chief stepped in with a clack of heels, wearing a blue suit and the expression she used with despicable suspects. Guster leaned in behind her, brushed her arm and she nodded.

Slowly, Carlton's hand untied his jacket.

-Okay girl. Stop smiling, but don't frown. Hands on the desk. Sober but not stiff.-

Francesca's head snapped up to him. –How the Hell…?-

-Good morning, miss Ermete.-

The Chief's voice filled the room. She was walking to the interrogation table, slowly, and pushed back the second chair of the table. She made no move to sit down.

-I'm Karen Vick, Chief of Santa Barbara Police Department. I have some questions you should answer to.-

-Ah, sure.-

-It was not a request, miss.-

The girl threw Carlton a wide-eyed glance, but he had no real advice. Instead, he was staring at Guster. He was being utterly silent, sitting on a chair under the one-side glass on the front of the room. He vaguely looked like the time he had eaten a whole jar of expired peanut butter.

The chief kept talking. –Well. So, your name is Francesca Ermete, daughter of Alessandro and Anna Ermete, resident in LA since this January. Is it correct?-

-Yes?-

-Twenty years, student at Sociology Department of Milan University, currently relocating in Los Angeles college. Still correct?-

-Yes.-

-Good. Do you understand me clearly, Miss Ermete?-

-Uh, yes.-

-Very good.-

The Chief gave her a thin smile. She slipped on the chair, crossed her legs.

-Why did you try to force an officer's house, miss?-

In Francesca's look was all the panic of the world.

-Low profile, girl.-

For an handful of seconds Carlton was sure the girl was about to crack. She stopped breathing, clasped the desk's edge until it squeaked. She finally stuttered something out.

-Ah, ah, yes. Ah, listen, it's all a big misunderstanding. I was no trying to do anything. I'm a reporter, I have a blog. I was just trying to find some juicy news.-

Carlton's eyebrow rose slowly. –Juicy?-

-Shut up.-

The Chief doesn't look impressed. -Miss, I think you're not appreciating the gravity of such an act. Burglary in a police officer's residence is a serious felony, and I'm sure you're aware of the particular circumstances of the case. Said officer is currently in hospital in critical conditions. You can understand this does not help your position.-

The girl's accent had thickened of several degrees.

-I, really, I just wanted some infos. I saw the accident and got intrigued and…-

-Where did you find Det. Lassiter's address, miss?-

-Ah, Wikipedia?-

Francesca grinned at the Chief. Carlton pinched his nose even without actually feeling the headache.

-Girl, I think his mother too has some uncertainties about his exact whereabouts. I truly doubt you discovered it all by yourself.-

-I could explain that.-

The chief's smile grew colder. -So maybe you could also explain why your fingerprints had been detected on the gas meter of said warehouse?-

The gas meter. Damn, he had been so stupid.

The girl licked her lips. -I, I was just trying to help there.-

-Help who, Miss Ermete?-

-No one.-

- Nonsense. You could have been contaminating evidences in that warehouse, spoiling clues.-

-I know, but.-

- Contamination is a very grave accusation too, you know? –

- But I didn't do it. I swear. You, you would not think I'm implicated with Pocofov, right?-

Silence fell hard and Francesca sucked in. Vick's face became cold and tight. Carlton let out an Irish curse he hadn't heard since his Grandma's visits.

-What do you know about Pocofov, miss?-

-Oh. Merda.-

-How do you know that name, Miss Ermete?-

-I, I don't know it. I don't know anything at all. I'm an Italian girl. I study Sociology.-

-Yet you said it and knew it's connected with Detective Lassiter.-

-Ah, yes, but I didn't mean. I. Listen, really. Let's all keep calm…-

-Listen you to me, girl.- The Chief hurled forward out of nowhere, over the desk, hands flat on the table, and suddenly she was angry and human and dangerous. She talked softly through clenched teeth.

-Carlton Lassiter is a great detective, a just man and a dear friend, but first of all is one of my people. He's one of mine, and yesterday someone had nearly shot him to death in front of me and God damn me if I'll let some spunky wobbly brat joking with his life.-

Francesca staggered back on the chair. -This is not going well.- She hissed. –Not well at all.-

-I know.-

Vick's eyes darted to Carlton's spot. -Who are you talking with?-

-Oh, crap.-

The Chief leaned further, Francesca shrank back with a sob. Carlton looked at the tight line of Vick's lips and knew they were over.

-Miss Ermete, please.-

The words were so sudden everyone shut up for a moment. The chief too looked stunned.

Surprisingly, it was Guster. Surprisingly, he was staring right at Francesca.

-Guster…-

-Just a sec, Chief. Miss Ermete, there are two people I deeply love that happened to be both, very close with Detective Lassiter. We've known each other for four years. I tip tapped with him.

The fact is, they all are good persons, very good persons, so I just want to find out the truth for them. You don't look to me like a bad person. I don't think you want to create more pain than necessary.-

The Chief slipped back on her seat, sighing. Francesca half-muttered something sheepish and looked down, Carlton watching over her head.

Guster. He had stepped in cold case room with him and Spencer in no-unmistakable attitudes, and said nothing. He was a good man. Like him.

Oh, Hell.

Think, breathe, act.

–Francesca. I think we should say it.-

-Say what?-

-The truth. All of it.-

She did a strangled sound. -Oh, no. No no no, detective. This is shitty enough even without throwing in that.-

-You're talking to thin air in the middle of an Interrogation room, it's already too late.-

-Please…-

-Please, Francesca. They deserve it.-

The girl watched him for a long moment. She looked angry, and scared, and too young for any of that. He saw the dark soft thing he'd seen back at the hospital surfacing again.

You can't leave. No I can't.

-Miss. Is there something bothering you?-

Francesca turned again to talk. She stopped. She munched a flake of nail polish on her thumb.

-I, actually I have something to say. It'll sound weird, stupid and so on, but it's the truth. And I want you to know I wouldn't ever ever come up with this if it was not the truth.-

Guster and the Chief leaned in. Vick's shoulders were tight, ready to leap.

–What is it, Miss Ermete?-

Francesca stared right at them. –I know who Pocofov is because I'm talking with Detective Lassiter.-

Jules stepped in the PD and immediately knew she had been dumb. She had had a shower and a change of clothes before leaving, but she should still look like a wreck. She hadn't put on any makeup, the hair was still in a mop and her eye sockets looked blue as punch bruises. And Gus had been a dear to bring her something to wear, but being a male and a kinda prim one too, he had sorted out a Cinnamon Fair shirt and a pair of leggings she wouldn't ever wear in public again. She hesitated under the first puzzled-and-pitiful glances of the hall, feeling very much like the ten-years-old no one picked up after school.

Oh, hell no. She was a detective. She was big enough to act tough even without being super-cute. C'mon O'Hara.

She lifted her chin and jogged briskly in front of all the staring faces. McNab was sitting at one of the desk in front of a pile of reports. Juliet knocked lightly on the table until he looked up.

-Detective O'Hara.-

-Buzz.-

-I didn't think…it's good to see you here. How is he?-

Far far away. –It depends.-

-Sure.-

They stopped talking, the precinct's clacks and hums around them. Buzz's face looked tight and the uniform shirt was in a jumble.

-I should inspect some docs in the archive, and Carlton's pc too. Can you see to it?-

-Of course. Ah, Detective O'Hara, actually I was going to call you anyway. There's something you should see.-

-Sorry?-

-This morning Gus went to Detective Lassiter's to pick up the clothes you asked him, and, he heard some voices. He found a girl trying to get in from the basement window.-

-Sorry…?-

-The Chief is in Interrogation Room 1. I know nothing specific, but things got kinda complicated. She'll fill you there.-

-Oh. Oh, okay.-

Juliet swallowed hard. She felt the sudden urge to curl down against the wall and tell the world to fuck off. No, not this too, no stop please. It's getting ridiculous. Stop please.

-Detective O'Hara?-

-I'm okay McNab. Take me to the Chief.-

-Okay.-

He got up with a grimace and gestured Juliet to lead the way. They walked in silence, across the hall and turning left and down the corridor of archives and cold case rooms, and it left her all the time to think about what could have happened and was still happening. When they got in front of the grey-scraped doors of Interrogation Room 1 she realized she was trembling. She clutched her fists and took a deep breath, but it didn't work.

McNab squeezed Juliet's arm. Watching up she saw he was smiling and she patted him back. Gosh, the boy so deserved a nice gift next Christmas.

-Okay. Let's go. -

-Yeah, detective.-

She pushed the door open.

Here we are, ninth chapter done. It's incredible, I always come up with a lot of things to say in this notes while writing, but right now I can't remember one of them for my life. Well, hope you still enjoy the way I put all these awesome characters and their development. And the next chapter will gave a true big twist to everyone's way.

Just a memo: I would really, really like some comments over this. I deeply love Out of Sight: it's complex and emotional and full of the feels and the things I think most important In life. Help me get the best out of it.

Thanks in advance for your support.