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During Cookies car ride down to the station with the police officers Cookie was wondering what the they wanted with him and his car, did he do something illegal he cant remember when he was drugged? Why did he wake up in the dumpster with the locked chain? It was all a blur to him now, but he was soon to find out exactly what happened.
"Lets go" said the officer as he opened the back door and grabbed Cookie by the arm to pull him out of the car. "We need to get you processed, the detectives are waiting for you." The officer said with a mean tone.
Cookie, confused asked "What do the detectives want with me?"
"Don't play stupid with us, we know you did it." - said the officer as he radio'd in for the door to be unlocked.
BUZZ... Cookie hears the sound of the electronic door unlocking as the officers escort him through the door into a hall where they walked straight down and made a sharp left, continuing straight they came to another door where the Officer radio'd in again and the same thing happened. They again walked down a few more hallways until they reached the main reception desk where the Sergeant was overseeing the operations of the present.
Cookie, again being even more distraught from all the turns and doors he went through (A technical tactic by the police to make it harder for criminal scum like Cookie here, to escape) Looks at the Sargent with the long sleeve shirt, tie and 3 v looking stripes on his arm and quietly asks "Why am I here?"
"We will get to that soon, lets get these cuffs off you and figure out why you are here" Said the Sergeant, as he waived to the officer to uncuff Cookie.
"Can I make a phone call" Cookie mumbles as he gets his wrists free from the cold steel that was causing him minor pain.
"Shut up and come with me" Said some random man in a suit who came from around the corner. The man was tall and burly with thinning brown hair, looked to be about mid to late 40's he wore a grey suit, with a black tie, simple but effective. He had a gold watch on his left wrist, so hes probably right handed cookie Thought. His badge stood out when he moved his jacket over to the side, hanging on his left hit just at his waist, gold and shinny. Black dress shoes, nothing too fancy but you know he was a cop. When he spoke he had a gargle to his voice, like he needed to cough all the time, his voice was deep and authoritative.
Cookie started to walk towards the room where the man pointed and looked up at the label above the door.
"Interview Room 1" Cookie said to himself as the Man opened the door and advised him to sit on the chair.
Cookie sat down in the chair Wondering why he was here being questioned by this man.
"I have some questions for you, I'm detective Matthews, Where were you on the night of November 15th?" asked Det. Matthews
"I don't talk to cops" - bursts out Cookie with a snarling grin on his face. "If you're going to charge me with something then charge me, I ain't talking to no pig. I want my phone call now, and I want my lawyer" Cookie was dead set on his golden rule and that was never talk to the police. He knew that the only reason the cops wanted to talk to you was so they could put together the real story and use you to pin yourself to whatever it was they wanted to talk to you about. Cookie was keen on these guys tactics. He was raised in the streets and could see their tricks coming from a mile away. You could even say Cookie had really good vision but it wasn't his vision that made him smart, it was the streets, and being in them growing up was something that taught Cookie things others didn't know. Cookie new he could never open his mouth to this guy unless it was to ask for his lawyer and that's just what Cookie did.
After about an hour Cookies Lawyer showed up and argues with the police "You don't have any evidence to charge him so I want you to let him go or charge my client with a crime so I can get him bail." Cookies Lawyer was a short skinny man with balding hair. Angry al the time and wore blue jeans and a Hawaii style collar neck T-shirt that was buttoned down twice below his neck showing his grey chest hairs. The man must have viewed them as his pride and joy by the way he let them hang out. He looked to be about 60 years old. Big scruffy beard that was not maintained at all, but The guy new his law and fought hard eventually getting Cookie out of the slammer.
When the cops finally released Cookie an hour or two later, the Lawyer meet him outside. "Hey pal I'm Charles Ripply, I work for the local, um.. underbelly of the world if you know what I mean. Some old friends of yours called me up and told me to come get you out. Don't worry about those guys, they were just searching for information. They probably seen you hanging out with some people you should't be and wanted to hassle you and scooch you into snitching on yourself. Just stay keen kid, and out of trouble." Charles said as he started to walk off, tossing Cookie his card. "Call me if you ever do get in trouble though." Charles phone started to ring, as he answers it Cookie hears him say his last name as he turns around and heads into the other direction towards his house.
Still confused Cookie gave his pal Randy a call asking if he could swing buy. "Sure" said Randy. "I'll see you soon" smiles Cookie as he heads back towards his car where the police arrested him.
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