Scene and Beat Analysis

SETUP

THE KEY to any successful interrogation was to get as much time as possible before the suspect demanded a lawyer. The hard cases-the dealers and gangbangers and bikers and mobbed-up guys-usually asked for a "mouth" right off the bat. You could fuck with them a little bit, try to rattle them before the lawyer showed up, but for the most part, you were going to have to rely on physical evidence to make your case. Rarely had Sean taken a hard guy into the box and come out with much of use.

Setting, Desire

Interrogation, the Desire to interrogate without a lawyer

When you were dealing with regular citizens or first-time felons, on the other hand, most of your cases were dunked during Q and A's. The "road rage" case, Sean's career topper so far, had been made like that. Out in Middlesex, guy's driving home one night, the right front tire of his SUV came off at eighty miles an hour. Just came off, rolled across the highway. The SUV flipped over nine or ten times, and the guy, Edwin Hurka, was dead on-scene.

super- intention

to be a successful detective (stakes)

Turned out the lug nuts on both his front tires were loose. So they were looking at involuntary manslaughter at best because prevailing opinion was that it was probably just some hungover mechanic's error, and Sean and his partner, Adolph, found out that the victim did have his tires replaced just a few weeks before. But Sean had also found a piece of paper in the victim's glove compartment that bothered him. It was a license plate, hastily scrawled, and when Sean ran it through the RMV computer, he'd come up with the name Alan Barnes. He'd dropped by Barnes's house and asked the guy who answered the door if he was Alan Barnes. The guy, nervous as hell, said, Yeah, why? And Sean, feeling it through his whole body, said, "I'd like to talk to you about some lug nuts."

Barnes broke right there in his doorway, told Sean he'd just meant to fuck the guy's car up a little, give him a scare, the two of them having gotten into it a week before in the merge lane heading into the airport tunnel, Barnes so pissed by the end of it that he hung back, skipped his appointment, and followed Edwin Hurka home, waited till the guy had shut off all the lights in his house before he went to work with his tire iron.

People were stupid. They killed each other over the dumbest things and then they hung around hoping to get caught, walked into court pleading not guilty after giving some cop a four-page, signed confession. It was knowing how stupid they really were that was a cop's best weapon. Let them talk. Always. Let them explain. Let them unload their guilt as you plied them with coffee and the tape recorder reels spun.

And when they asked for a lawyer-and the average citizen almost always asked-you frowned and asked if they were sure that's what they wanted and let a very unfriendly vibe fill the room until they decided that they'd really like all three of you to be friends, so maybe they'd talk a bit more before they brought that lawyer down here and spoiled the mood.

Dave didn't ask for a lawyer, though. Not once. He sat in the chair that bucked when you leaned too far back in it, and he looked hungover and annoyed and pissed at Sean, in particular, but he didn't look scared and he didn't look nervous, and Sean could tell it was beginning to get to Whitey.

STIMULUS

Sean Reaction,Hopes dashed, no lawyer called, but no stupidity, opening up by Dave

DIALOGUE

S/R

Beat

"Look, Mr. Boyle," Whitey said, "we know you left McGills before you said you did. We know you showed up a half-hour later in the parking lot of the Last Drop around the same time the Marcus girl left. And we sure as shit know you didn't get that swollen hand by banging it off a wall making a pool shot."

Stimulus (S)

Whitey confronts Dave with inconsistencies

Dave groaned. He said, "How about a Sprite, something like that?"

Oblique Response ®

"In a minute," Whitey said for the fourth time in the half an hour they'd been in here. "Tell us what really happened that night, Mr. Boyle."

S

Whitey pushing on

"I already did."

R

Not answering

"You lied."

S

Accusation

Dave shrugged. "Your opinion."

Obliqu R

Shrugs

"No," Whitey said. "Fact. You lied about leaving McGills. The fucking clock was stopped, Mr. Boyle, five minutes before you claim to have left."

S

More specific accusation

"Five whole minutes?"

R

minimizes consequences of 5 minutes

"You think this is funny?"

S

Whitey exasperated

Dave leaned back a bit in the chair and Sean waited to hear the telltale crack it emitted before it would buckle, but it didn't, Dave pushing it to the edge, but not going any further.

Rf

Focal character Sean reacting to Whitey failure, chair breaking as meaphor

"No, Sergeant, I don't think it's funny. I'm tired. I'm hungover. And my car was not only stolen but now you're telling me you won't release it to me. You say I left McGills five minutes before I said I did?"

S0R

Change of Direction of Beats, Dave counter attack as response

"At least."

R

Whitey responding

"Fine. I'll give you that. Maybe I did. I don't look at my watch as much as you guys apparently do. So if you say I left McGills at ten of one instead of five of one, I say, okay. Maybe I did. Oops. But that's it. I went home right after that. I didn't go to any other bar."

S

Dave makes minimizing accession, swatting away Whiey accusation

"You were seen in the parking lot of-"

S

Change direction (2), Whitey getting specific about parking lot

"No," Dave said. "A Honda with a dented quarter panel was seen. Right? You know how many Hondas there are in this city? Come on, man."

R

Dave parries, evidence not specific

"How many with dents, though, Mr. Boyle, in the same place as yours?"

S

more specific

Dave shrugged. "A bunch, I bet."

R

Shrugging

Whitey looked at Sean and Sean could feel that they were losing. Dave was right-they could probably find twenty Hondas with dented quarter panels on the passenger side. Twenty, easy. And if Dave could throw that at them, then his lawyer would come up with a lot more.

RF

Focal Sean Emotional reaction

Whitey came around the back of Dave's chair and said, "Tell us how the blood got in your car."

S

new rack by Whitey, blood

"What blood?"

R

answers with question

"The blood we found in your front seat. Let's start there."

S

more specific

Dave said, "How about that Sprite, Sean?"

Oblique R

Sprite changing subject again

Sean said, "Sure."

Rf

acceding

Dave smiled. "I get it. You're a good cop. How about a meatball sub while you're at it?"

S

Dave now on attack, seeing through interrogation

Sean, half out of his chair, sat back down. "Ain't your bitch, Dave. Looks like you'll have to wait awhile."

Rf

Sean sits down

"You're somebody's bitch, though. Aren't you, Sean?" There was a crazy leer in his eyes when he said it, a preening cockiness, and Sean started thinking maybe Whitey was right. Sean wondered if his father, seeing this Dave Boyle, would have the same opinion of him as he'd had last night.

S+ Rf

Dave attacks, Sean emotional reacton, fear of Dave

Sean said, "The blood on your front seat, Dave. Answer the sergeant."

Sf

Sean starts tack on blood again

Dave looked back up at Whitey. "We got a chain-link fence in our backyard. You know the kind, with the links curling inward at the top? I was doing yard work the other day. My landlord's old. I do it, he keeps the rent reasonable. So I'm cutting away these bamboo-looking things he's got back there-"

R

Long reply with explanation

Whitey sighed, but Dave didn't seem to notice.

S

Non verbal response, sighing

"-and I slip. I got this electric hedge trimmer in my hand, and I don't want to drop it, so when I slip, I fall into the chain-link fence and I slice myself against it." He patted his rib cage. "Right here. It wasn't bad, but it bled like hell. Like ten minutes later? I gotta go pick up my son at Little League practice. It was probably still bleeding, I got into the seat. That's the best I can figure it."

S

Dave attacks with long explanation further

Whitey said, "So that was your blood in the front seat?"

R+S

asks question, your blood?

"Like I said-best I can figure it."

R

blurrs explanation

"And what blood type are you?"

S

questioning

"B negative."

R

first straight answer

Whitey gave him a broad grin as he came back around the chair, perched on the edge of the table. "Funny. That's the exact type we found in the front seat."

R+S

grinning, agreeing?

Dave held up his hands. "Well, there you go."

R

agreeing again

Whitey mimicked Dave's hands. "Not quite. Care to explain the blood in the trunk? That blood wasn't B negative."

S

interogating, more specific

"I don't know anything about any blood in my trunk."

R

shifts back to ignorance

Whitey chuckled. "No idea how a good half pint of blood got in the trunk of your car?"

S

chuckling, repeating rhetorically

"No, I don't," Dave said.

R

again, I don't know

Whitey leaned in, patted Dave's shoulder. "I don't mind telling you, Mr. Boyle, that this is not the avenue you want to take. You claim in court that you don't know how someone else's blood got in your car, how's that going to look?"

S

touching Dave, pressing with court threat

"Fine, I suppose."

R+S

Contradicts, taking the wind out of Whitey with pre-known information

"How do you figure?"

R

questions (confused)

Dave leaned back again and Whitey's hand fell from his shoulder. "You filled out the report, Sergeant."

S

Dave attacks, the car report

"What report?" Whitey said.

R

question, still confused

Sean saw it coming and thought, Oh, shit, he's got us.

RF

focal Sean sees the surprise, defeat of blood evidence

"The stolen car report," Dave said.

S

Dave drops the hammer

"So?"

R

Whitey paralyzed

"So," Dave said, "the car wasn't in my possession last night. I don't know what the car thieves used it for, but maybe you want to find out, because it sounds like they were up to no good."

S- Climax

crushes Whitey with understated sarcasm

For a long thirty seconds, Whitey sat completely still, and Sean could feel it dawning on him-he'd gotten too smart and he'd fucked himself. Just about anything they found in that car would be thrown out in court because Dave's lawyer could claim the car thieves had put it there.

Rf

Pause, Sean watches Whitey realize he fucked himself

"The blood was old, Mr. Boyle. Older than a few hours."

R

half hearted attempt to regain upper hand

"Yeah?" Dave said. "You can prove that? I mean, conclusively, Sergeant? You're sure it didn't just dry fast? I mean, it wasn't a humid night last night."

S

questions Whitey's attempted rehabilitation

"We can prove it," Whitey said, but Sean could hear the doubt in his voice, so he was pretty sure Dave could hear it, too.

RF

Sean observes the wind out of Whitey's sails

Whitey got up off the table and turned his back to Dave. He put his fingers over his mouth and drummed them against his upper lip as he walked the length of the table down toward Sean's end, his eyes on the floor.

R

Physical turning of back reaction, eyes on the floor, in literal retreat

"Things looking any better on that Sprite?" Dave said.

S

Dave rubbing in the win

"WE'RE BRINGING DOWN the kid Souza talked to, the one who saw the car. Tommy, ah-"

"Moldanado," Sean said.

"Yeah." Whitey nodded, his voice a little thin, his face a fist of distraction, the look of a guy who'd had a chair pulled out from under him, found his ass hitting the floor, wondering how he got there. "We'll, ah, put Boyle in a lineup, see if this Moldanado picks him out."

"It's something," Sean said.

Whitey leaned against the corridor wall as a secretary passed them, her perfume the same kind Lauren used, Sean thinking maybe he'd call her on her cell, see how she was doing today, see if she'd talk now that he'd made the first move.

Rf

Focal character reaction tied to sub plot Sean's wife

Whitey said, "He's too cool in there. Guy's first time in the box and he's not even sweating?"

S

Dialog shifts to Whitey-Sean, whitey defending

Sean said, "Sarge, it's not looking good, you know?"

R

respectfully points out the obvious

"No shit."

S

counters with expletive

"No, I mean, even if we didn't get blown out on the car, it's not the Marcus girl's blood. There's nothing to tie him to this."

R

The blood is not Katie's, apparent victory for Sean's view of Dave's innocence

Whitey looked back at the door to the interrogation room. "I can break him."

S

Whitey still stubbornly perserveres

"He kicked our asses in there," Sean said.

S

changes direction, counters, not as respectfully

"I'm not even warmed up."

R

defensive

Sean could see it in his face, though, the doubt, the first crumbling of the primary hunch. Whitey was stubborn and mean, too, if he thought he was right, but the man was too smart to ever flame out on a hunch that kept running into substantiation problems.

Rf

internal observations of Whitey

"Look," Sean said, "let's let him sweat a bit in there."

S

tries to ease out

"He ain't sweating."

R

denial

"He might start, we leave him alone to think."

S

re-affirms, buttress

Whitey looked back at the door like he wanted to burn it down. "Maybe."

Rf

Sean observing Whitey anger

"I think it's the gun," Sean said. "We bust this open on that gun."

S

New opening line of attack, the gun

Whitey chewed the inside of his mouth and eventually nodded. "It'd be nice to know more about the gun. You want to take that?"

R+S

Whitey takes new line , passes to Sean

"Same guy still own the liquor store?"

R

more information making the tack more specific

Whitey said, "I don't know. The case file was from 'eighty-two, but the owner then was a Lowell Looney."

R

info exchange

Sean smiled at the name. "Has a ring to it, don't it?"

S

turns emotions back to positive

Whitey said, "Why don't you take a ride over? I'll watch fuckhead in there through the glass, see if he starts singing songs about dead girls in the park."

R

ends in defeat or paralysis