Don't Look Back by Josh Lanyon

Author:Josh Lanyon
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Publisher: Loose Id, LLC

Chapter Seven

Peter knew what the result of the lineup would be from the moment he arrived at the police station Wednesday morning. He could feel it in the way he was greeted—even by his lawyer—and in the way he was escorted down to the waiting room. It was obvious that this was pretty much a formality. Mr. Stephenson had as good as said so. In fact, he'd actually said he wasn't sure why the police were wasting everyone's time with a lineup since Donald Herschel had already identified Peter, before, during, and now after his impromptu visit to the pawnshop, as the man who'd tried to sell him stolen goods.

Peter wondered if he should apologize for wasting Mr. Stephenson's valuable time. He'd have been happy to skip the lineup himself. At least he didn't have long to wait before he was summoned to join a queue of eight other men approximately his height and build waiting in a hallway. They were led inside a long bare room and instructed to face what was clearly a two-way mirror.

A voice over the loudspeaker asked them to turn to the right, back to center, and then to the left. They were each asked to speak an innocuous line—Peter had already forgotten what they said about three seconds afterward.

They were thanked for their time, escorted back to the waiting room, and Detective Griffin appeared for the first time—Peter's lawyer in tow.

Peter saw it in Griffin's face. He was absolutely prepared, so it was a little shock to feel that wave of light-headedness washing over him as Griffin told him he was under arrest. He managed to hide it, he hoped, standing silent while Griffin put the handcuffs on him.

"Is this necessary?” Stephenson said, sounding mostly bored. “My client has cooperated every step of the way. He's already in police custody."

"We've got procedures to follow, counselor,” Griffin said, snapping the handcuffs closed. “Sorry,” he added brusquely—and that was directed to Peter, though he barely registered it.

"I'll arrange bail proceedings as we've discussed, Peter,” Stephenson said, moving away.

Peter nodded. He felt like he was watching it all happen to someone else, and that was probably just as well. He embraced his inner numbness. If he could have climbed onto an astral plane, he'd have done it. He thought Griffin might have addressed a couple of other remarks to him before he was handed over to the uniformed officer who took his mug shots and fingerprints, but it was like listening to someone across a busy street.

He spent hours in a cell with a sullen-looking Asian kid who appeared to be tattooed over every visible inch of his hide and an elderly drunk with a busy mustache who was snoring for all the world like a cartoon character.

Every so often the Illustrated Man would get up, shrieking obscenities, and slam at the bars of the cell, and the sleeper would snort loudly like he was about to go into respiratory failure.

At last Peter's name was called and he was escorted to where Roma and Jessica waited for him.

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