Alpha Incorporated

IV - ix WHAT MAN MAY WITHIN HIM HIDE

The small room is stuffy. There is an annoying buzz from the fluorescent lights above. Angelo sits in the police interrogation room, waiting. He knows there is a video camera and that everything is being recorded, even him sitting here alone. In another room, someone is analyzing his performance, interpreting his body language, his facial expressions, trying to determine what is going on inside his head. It is all about acting, he tells himself.

He tries to focus on what he knows to be true. He doesn't need to hide anything, because he has done nothing illegal. He can't allow his thoughts to wander into the world of possibility; that is speculation and fantasy. He can't have his mind go down the path of what they might be thinking. That is what they want him to do, and that his how they will try to trap him.

He is confident that he can outsmart these local cops. This is the biggest thing they have ever dealt with. Angelo can imagine the fat cop, the one who drove him here, getting home after his day at work today, all excited, asking his wife and kids, guess who I brought in today? Telling them all about how their dad, her husband, was better, tougher and more powerful that the mighty Angelo Lord, CEO of Alpha Incorporated. This, what might be the worst day of Angelo's life, is the best thing that will happen to this man in his pathetic little existence. This lowlife doesn't understand that Angelo is just playing the part of the cooperative, docile suspect. The minute he chooses to bare his teeth and show his true strength, Angelo will be out of here so fast that Fat Boy will be left staring at the waves in his coffee. But for now, he will act like he wants to cooperate.

The detective enters the room. With a waft of cool air, Angelo picks up the smell of male body odor and coffee. He recognizes his scent from when he met him earlier today, when he spoke to him outside Escalus' office. There, he told them he had met Isabella Measures on two occasions, plus there had been email, text and phone conversations with her, all of which were available for them to examine, provided they had the adequate warrants. It is their last meeting, at his home, that earned him the invitation to the police station. He reminds himself that he has not been arrested. He is here of his own free will, for questioning. The detective, Polonius, told him that that he was likely the last person to see Isabella.

"Sorry that we took so long, Mr. Lord. I understand that you are a very busy man. We really don't want to keep you here any longer than necessary, you know?" 

He doesn't believe him. Angelo knows exactly what is going on. The Mountain View Police are keeping him here as long as they can. It is about showing their power over him, how they control the game. They figure that he will begin to get agitated, lose his cool, screw up. But they don't know who they are dealing with. For him, mental toughness is as important—more important—than physical strength. His military training is far superior to what these jokers did in their silly police academy.

"Now, Mr. Lord, I need to ask you one more time, do you wish to have a lawyer present?"

"Am I under arrest, Detective?"

"No sir, you are not. We just need to ask you a few more questions."

"I do not require a lawyer then. I am, in fact, a lawyer, although I do not practice criminal law, and, yes, I am aware that my answers may be used in a court of law." 

If he were to get a lawyer, these guys wouldn't get a word out of him. He could have the best criminal defence lawyers in the country here within the hour. They would march in, cops and clerks would scatter from the parade of suits that would tear this shitty little police station wide open. They would tell Angelo not to say a word to any of them and haul him out of here. He would love to see that, love to see the look on the face of Fat Boy, donut hanging out of his open mouth. But that is not what he wants to happen. Angelo wants to disclose. That is his style.