Week 15.5 – Stranded

Previously: Hound Dog performed a citizen’s arrest to claim the reward on Digger. And now…

The drive to Bayside went without incident. Digger tried telling Hound Dog the entire story, but Hound Dog cut him off. “I don’t really need to know the story. I just need to turn you in and get paid.”

They arrived at police headquarters downtown late that night. Hound Dog marched Digger in, one hand gripping his upper arm. The desk sergeant looked at them with a bored expression. “Who are you and why’s he cuffed?”

Hound Dog slipped an identification card onto the desk. “Louis Fineman. I’m here to collect the reward on Digger.”

“Where is he?”

“Right here,” Hound Dog said.

The desk sergeant–the name tag on his chest read “Reid”–looked at Digger doubtfully. “This is Digger?”

“Yeah.”

Sgt. Reid nodded at Digger’s hands. “Where’s his things?”

“You don’t think I’d bring him into a police station still fully armed, do you?” Hound Dog asked.

Sgt. Reid thought about it for a moment. “No, I guess not. Okay, bring him in and I’ll call the detectives working the case to come get your statements.”

Forty-five minutes later, Digger was sitting in an interrogation room with detectives Grayson and Merrick. “Let me tell you how this usually goes,” Merrick said. “Most of the time, like–what would you say, Grayson, ninety percent?”

“Ninety-nine,” Grayson growled, giving Digger the stink-eye. Probably still upset from the beating Digger had given him at Jill’s place.

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]“So ninety-nine percent of the time, the first story a suspect tells us is utter bullshit. You don’t mind if I say ‘shit,’ do you?”[/blockquote]“Yeah, ninety-nine sounds about right,” Merrick agreed. “So ninety-nine percent of the time, the first story a suspect tells us is utter bullshit. You don’t mind if I say ‘shit,’ do you?”

“Knock yourself out,” Digger said.

“I would strongly recommend that you do not follow their example,” Merrick said. “Because the more you lie to us, the less inclined we will be to work with you.”

“We hate liars,” Grayson cut in.

“So you be straight with us,” Merrick continued, “and we’ll do what we can for you when it comes to sentencing. Okay?”

“Okay,” Digger said.

“So why did you rob the bank?” Grayson asked.

The door opened and a bulldog of a man in a very expensive pinstriped suit entered. His blunt features presented an odd contrast to the immaculate lines of the suit. “My client will not be answering any more questions,” the man said.

“He hasn’t answered any yet,” Grayson yelled. “Who are you?”

The man offered a crisp, white business card. “Derek Arthur, Mister Ryan’s counsel.”

Merrick looked at the card, then at Digger. “Is this guy really your lawyer?”

“Used to be,” Digger said uncertainly, “until I…”

“That falls under attorney-client privilege,” Arthur said. “But I will be representing Mister Ryan, assuming he doesn’t object.”

“I don’t object.”

“So when can we leave?” Arthur asked.

“Well, we’ll be holding him over for arraignment in the morning…”

“But surely you aren’t arresting him!” Arthur said.

“The evidence is pretty definitive,” Merrick said. “Digger definitely robbed that bank.”

Arthur smiled terrifyingly. “But how can you prove that this is Digger?”

What will happen next? Join us next week for the next exciting chapter of Run, Digger, Run!

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