Shattered (Michael Bennett #14)(57)

Swinson said to Detective Gorant and the two uniformed cops, “You guys don’t want to call in any more help? He’s a pretty big dude.”

The big black cop said, “Shit no. He might not resist if there’s too many of us. We’ve got to give him a chance.”

I liked the cop’s sly smile as he said it. I also liked his confidence.

I watched as the detective, now wearing her badge on the outside of her shirt and showing her pistol on her hip, approached Jeremy Pugh. The two big uniformed cops flanked her.

The first thing she did was pull an old police trick. She said his name in a sweet, sexy voice to confirm it was him. As soon as she said, “Jeremy Pugh,” like Jessica Rabbit in Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Pugh turned to look at her. That was his mistake.

I could see the smile spread across Nancy Gorant’s face. Immediately, both the uniformed cops stepped up to either side of Pugh.

The tall black cop said in a professional tone, “Please turn around and place your hands behind your back.”

Pugh didn’t move.

In a slightly louder voice, the cop repeated his command. But he added the dreaded “Do it now.”

Jeremy Pugh looked outraged more than anything else. He stared at the cop, then said in a loud voice, “No, you don’t understand. I’m here for America.” He still didn’t move his arms, and he had to look up slightly at the big cop. “What are you doing? I’m out here helping your people.”

Now it was the cop’s turn to look astonished. “My people?”

“Yeah, black people. Black lives matter, man.”

“You also protest when a black cop is murdered?”

That earned the cop a blank stare from Jeremy Pugh. The other cop forced Pugh’s arms behind his back.

The black cop said, “Time to go to jail, Gandhi. Maybe you’ll be able to help us from inside.”

Pugh yanked his arms away from the cop trying to cuff him. He jumped back a few feet from the cops. He shouted, “This is bullshit! They’re trying to silence me! We live in a Nazi state!” He looked around, trying to gain some support from the crowd. He found little. Even the other Burning Land people looked away or wandered off. Everyone’s a tough guy until the cops show up.

The black cop kept his voice calm. “I’ll give you another chance to comply.”

I’ll admit, there was some part of me that wanted to see this cop punch Jeremy Pugh in the face. The memories of him peeing on my back and confronting me at my hotel kept flashing in my mind.

Instead of seeing a big muscle-bound cop pound Jeremy Pugh, I got a more enjoyable show.

While Pugh focused on the cop talking to him and tried to make his case to the crowd, Detective Gorant quietly slipped around to the rear of Pugh. She gave some kind of signal to the two uniformed cops. They both took a couple of steps back. That made Pugh think he had scared them away. He never even looked behind him.

The attractive detective calmly placed her foot between his legs and then jerked his right arm so that he tripped and fell facedown on the ground quickly. She had his hand cranked behind his back before he could even let out a yelp.

Pugh squirmed in the armlock. The detective leaned in close and said, “Put your other arm behind your back.”

When Pugh didn’t act immediately, she twisted his right arm a little more. That got the reaction she wanted. In a matter of seconds, he was handcuffed and yanked to his feet.

And I was down one suspect in a homicide.





Chapter 74



After I watched the DC cops cart away Jeremy Pugh, I walked from the National Mall back to my hotel. I’d just orchestrated the arrest of a dangerous criminal. I had acted as liaison between the NYPD and the DC police. And yet I was not in the mood I had expected.

Instead of feeling upbeat and positive, all I could think was how few suspects I had in Emily Parker’s murder. And that’s why I was in DC. Not to clear an NYPD assault case. I hadn’t realized when I first considered Jeremy Pugh as a suspect that he would end up wasting so much of my time and energy. But that’s the way things generally happen in major investigations.

Now I was determined to look at both Michelle Luna’s and Emily Parker’s murders as somehow connected. That meant I was going to focus a little more on Michelle Luna’s murder. And I had an idea what I was going to do.

As soon as I got back to my room, I called the tech investigative division of the NYPD. I tried not to be like some of the dinosaur cops, or, as the young guys called us, Detectivesaurus Rex. I was prepared to move with the times. And that meant embracing new technologies.

I knew cops who bragged about shunning technology and doing things “old school.” That’s fine to say, but it never helps an investigation. As the world speeds up and adopts the latest technology for even simple things, cops have to do the same thing. Luckily, I don’t have to be an expert in emerging technologies. All I have to do is be aware of these new trends. There are always experts I can turn to.

This time I was going to focus on cell phone technology. It’s amazing what a cell phone can do. It’s also amazing how a cell phone can be tracked. Real criminals, professionals—well, at least smart professionals—will take the battery out of their phone before they go somewhere they don’t want to be tracked.

Regular people who commit crimes don’t think that way. Usually, a crime like murder is spur-of-the-moment for a nonprofessional, a so-called crime of passion. This was my opinion, of course. And I wanted to see how accurate it was.