It had been a while since I’d been at the jail but the procedure hadn’t changed.
Check in, leave your I.D., stash any weapons in a locker—in this case, Milo’s Glock.
That completed, a Sheriff’s deputy named Ortiz met us on the other side of a sally port and guided us up the elevator to a stale-smelling hallway and finally to an interview room where a second deputy named Coolidge stood guard.
Ortiz left and Coolidge let us into a stingy, windowless space that would never recover from decades of human stink.
Cameron Flick sat behind a small steel table screwed to the floor. His right hand was chained to a heavy eyebolt welded to the table’s side.
His red uniform signaledHigh Risk.So did theHon his red wristband. Below that,K1,for “Keep him away from everyone else.”
His free hand flicked the blood-colored fabric. “Not my best hue but good taste is in dire shortage here.”
We sat down facing him. Coolidge said, “I’ll be right outside.”
“Superfluous announcement,” said Cameron Flick. “If you know what that means.”
Coolidge remained stoic and left, closing the door behind him.
Flick said, “Good riddance to maladaptive detritus.”
—
He’d shaved off his beard, ended up with a pale, doughy, soft-around-the-edges baby face blotched in places by pink razor rash.
I thought about him wielding a razor in his cell as I studied him.
Just a face. Like his eyes, unremarkable.
Sometimes you see the same kind of countenance in old photos of young Nazi storm troopers making their way through the streets of Munich or Berlin.
The monster concealed within.
Camouflaged like the weapon Flick had used to slaughter half a dozen people.
Milo said, “You wanted to talk to us.”
“To you. Who’s he?”
“Alex Delaware.”
He looked me up and down and shrugged. Eager to clarify how little my presence meant to him. Returned his attention to Milo.
“So,” he said, “you must be quite pleased with yourself. With the erudition you acquired learning about me in the course of your so-called investigation.”
“I’m pleased you’re in here and not shooting people.”
Flick nodded. “Of course you’d see it in a narrow perspective. I’ve summoned you here for some corrective education.”
“You’re going to tutor me.”
Flick smiled. “The first thing you need to know is that I’ll be representing myself in court. All the supposed experts say it’s foolhardy but I’ve learned that following my own instincts works best.”
Milo said, “The court will assign you a lawyer as backup.”
“Whom I will utterly ignore.”
Milo crossed his legs.
