Interrogation

The police station was just as cold and impersonal in real life as it was on television. Rome sat in a stark white room, with only a desk, a few metal chairs, and a Styrofoam cup full of water someone had given him when they first brought him in. He’d refused medical treatment after the Coast Guard had torn him out of the water. He had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. At some point, Bart had gotten his shirt and shoes to him, but he didn’t know where his phone was. All he knew was that Mark and Tim were dead, and the police were trying to figure out whether or not Rome had killed Tim or if it had been an accident.
He was hoping Bart would have called Ella by now, but he might not if it meant he’d be the one to tell her about her cousin. Every time he thought about her losing Tim, tears came to his eyes. He knew how much Ella loved her cousin. Whenever he thought about Mark, he wanted to cry because he was missing his friend so completely. Mark was a good person, and he didn’t deserve to die that way. How did all of this get so out of control?
Two detectives came in. One was older, maybe in his mid-fifties. The other was probably in his early thirties. He could tell immediately that the older one would be playing the role of bad cop. He had a scowl on his face that was only partially hidden behind his bushy mustache. They both sat down across from Rome, and the old man shuffled a stack of papers loudly before he cleared his throat and said. “Mr. Verona, I’m Det. Michael Bassett. This is Det. Terry Short. We’re, uh, sorry about your friend. You were good friends with Mark Hutio. Is that right?”
Rome nodded, unable to say anything at the moment as he fought tears.
“Tell us what happened, from your perspective, starting with the altercation between Mr. Hutio and Mr. Bolt,” Det. Short said, his voice much kinder than the other detectives.
Rome opened his mouth, but nothing came out at first. He took a sip of the water and tried to choke it down. Eventually, a small squeal came out, followed by words. “I was sitting at the front of the boat with my friend Bart. We heard a commotion and went to the back of the boat, where the noise was coming from. We saw Mark and Tim arguing. I know the only reason they don’t get along is because Tim is related to the Sinders, and Mark and I are friends. The Sinders family and the Veronas have been feuding for years.” He paused for a moment, and Det. Short nodded his understanding, so Rome continued. “Bart and I both told them to stop fighting, that there was nothing to argue about, but they wouldn’t listen.”
Sucking in air, Rome tried to remember the horrible details of what had happened next. Tears filled his field of vision. “Tim pulled a gun out of his waistband, and that’s when things got real. I guess Mark didn’t realize he was serious. I don’t know. They started wrestling over the gun, and thinking someone was going to get hurt, I jumped in, too. That’s when the gun went off.”
“Who had their finger on the trigger when the gun fired?” Det. Bassett asked.
“Tim did. Mark had his hands over the rest of the gun, except the barrel, and I had my hands on Mark’s, trying to get him to let go. When it went off, I let go. Mark did, too. It was left in Tim’s hands. His finger was on the trigger when it fired. Mark collapsed, and Bart caught him. He was angry at me for interfering. I was just trying to help. I had no idea….” He was going to say he had no idea the wound was so bad at first, but he stopped himself, shaking his head. “After Mark’s heart stopped beating, I went after Tim. He’d already thrown the gun in the ocean. I saw him do that. So I wanted to hunt him down.”
“And make him pay?” Det. Bassett asked.
“Yeah. I was really angry,” Rome admitted. “I went after him, we argued for a second, and then we went at each other. We ended up falling overboard.”
“And then what happened when you were in the water?” Det. Short still seemed more sympathetic than Det. Bassett, but both of them seemed to already have an idea of what had gone on.
“There was a current from the wake of the boat and the Coast Guard boat coming to help with Mark. We were getting tossed around a lot. Tim went under, and as far as I could tell, he never resurfaced. For a minute, he had my leg, but then, he let go. I came up, got some air and went back down for him, but I couldn’t see him anywhere. Not until it was too late. Not until the Coast Guard was there. Then, I saw him floating a ways off. They wouldn’t let me swim after him. I’m not sure what happened after that.”
“Why would you want to go help him?” Det. Bassett scoffed. “It was your fault he was in the water anyway, wasn’t it? People on the boat heard you say you were going to kill him.”
“I was angry. I didn’t say I was going to kill him, exactly. I said one of us would be joining Mark shortly.” Rome was certain of what he’d said, even if he couldn’t remember every detail of what happened after they pulled him out of the water. “Once I was in the ocean, I remembered Tim’s not a strong swimmer, and I didn’t want him to drown. I was trying to help him.”
“How do you know he’s not a strong swimmer?” Det. Short asked, rubbing his chin.
Rome swallowed hard. He knew a few ways. He was going to have to tell them the truth about Ella soon. Was now the time? Maybe not. “I just know he doesn’t like to swim. We’ve been in the same business for a few years. It’s just something I’ve picked up about him.”
“All the more reason to push him overboard when you know you are a strong swimmer, huh?” Det. Bassett wanted to know.
“I didn’t push him. We tumbled together. If I would’ve wanted to push him, I would’ve pushed him, not fallen with him.”
“So when you threatened to kill him, how were you intending to do so?” Det. Bassett asked.
“I already told you, I didn’t threaten to kill him. But… I would’ve beaten the shit out of him if we hadn’t fallen overboard. Assuming no one stopped us. That’s what I wanted to do. He’d just shot and killed my best friend.”
“While your hands were on the gun,” the older cop reminded him.
“Listen, sir, if you’re accusing me of something, I’m pretty sure I’m entitled to have a lawyer. You and I both know the second my father finds out I’ve said a damn word to you without a lawyer present, he’ll be livid. So… if you’re accusing me of killing Tim or Mark or both, go ahead and get on with it so I know what I’m up against.”
The two detectives exchanged glances. “We’re not accusing you of anything at this point, Mr. Verona,” Det. Short finally said. “We have a few more witnesses to interview, and then, we can let you know if you’re facing any charges. In the meantime, can we get you something to eat? A change of clothes?”
“No, but I’d like to call a lawyer, just in case,” Rome replied.
“You can do that. Where’s your phone?” Det. Bassett asked.
“I don’t know. I assume Bart or someone has it.”
Det. Short said, “We’ll move you to a room that has a phone shortly. Is there anything else you think we need to know?”
There was something about the look in Det. Short’s eyes that let Rome know he already knew anyway, so he may as well be honest. “Yeah. You should probably know that I secretly married Tim’s cousin last weekend in Las Vegas. No one knows that. Tim didn’t know. My family doesn’t know. Her family doesn’t know. We’d like to keep it that way, but for the purposes of your investigation, I thought you’d probably figure it out anyway, sooner or later.”
Det. Short nodded. “Thanks. We’ll try to keep that information as secret as possible. And for the record, we already knew.” The two detectives started to stand, but Det. Bassett didn’t move away just yet. He stood behind his chair for a moment, staring at Rome.
Rome raised his eyebrows and peered back at the man, a questioning expression on his face. “Are you sure Tim didn’t know?” Det. Bassett asked.
“I’m sure,” Rome nodded.
“Did Mark know?” Det. Short questioned from the door.
“He did. And Bart knows. That’s it. Unless Ella’s told someone but didn’t tell me about it, no one else knows, save the pastor and the witnesses.”
With a nod, Det. Short opened the door. Det. Bassett stared at him a moment longer and they both left, and Rome felt more alone than he ever had in his whole life.