The Interrogation of Martin Decker

"Are you 'carrying', detective?" the officer behind glass asked Nina, after she had identified herself.

"Yes," she replied.

As long as Rosebrooke was still a fugitive, she would not be stupid enough to go out unarmed.

"I would ask you, for the safety of both yourself and our staff, to stow your weapon in one of the lockers behind you," he said, with a gesture, "and if you would follow protocol and sign in afterwards."

Nina did as he asked.

"Who are you here to see?" the officer asked her briefly, and to the point, but also somewhat bored.

He saw dozens of detectives enter the prison every day, hoping to coax a confession out of somebody who had been in prison for a long time.

"I am here to see Martin Decker," she replied.

She immediately saw that his interest was piqued.

Martin Decker had only briefly been locked up here, but under very strict security, and that was with reason. He was one of the most dangerous criminals in the country, the second in command and bodyguard of Freddy Rosebrooke, who was currently still wanted for trading illegal substances, tax evasion, intimidation, membership of a criminal organization and conspiracy. The organization of Rosebrooke had been rolled up after a months-length undercover action, in which Nina, among others, had been involved. But the officer did not need to know exactly how far her involvement had gone.

"Martin Decker, you say?" he asked with clear interest. "Our guest of honour?"

She nodded.

"Detective, in that case I have to warn you, Decker has not spoken to anyone during the time he has been here, not even to his fellow inmates, except for some functional conversations. Because he is considered a fugitive and appears to be quite good at escaping, we have put him in a glass cell where no one can have physical contact with him. Don't let his charming looks deceive you though, that man is evil to the core."

She grinned secretly. Here he was, pretending be the expert on Martin Decker, as if she hadn't lived with him for three months. Yes, she had gotten to know Martin well, and the officer was right about a few things. Martin Decker was certainly dangerous; he would indeed escape as soon as he had the chance, and he would not hesitate for a second to break necks and spill blood if that would increase his chances of freedom. Whether he was evil to the core, was something she doubted, and she knew it was because she could no longer look at him objectively.

"Glad you brought it up, officer," she said, "I have here," - and she pulled a warrant from her pocket - "an order to you and your superiors, from both my superiors and the district attorney. Due to Decker being such a special guest, it seems we have to bend the rules a bit."

With a frown, the officer took the paper from her. She could tell from his face that he was not exactly happy to be lectured in his own house, and when he read on, he liked it even less.

"I cannot condone this," he said immediately, as he lowered the paper, "turn off the cameras aimed at his cell? Madness!"

Giving in somewhat, seemed better, than pulling rank. "Actually, I totally agree with you, officer, but I'm afraid both our superiors think otherwise. All cameras should be off so Decker will feel freer and maybe say a little too much. I think it's bullshit too, but you know what those paper-pushers are like, once they have something in their head, there is no way to get it out of it. So, we just do whatever they want, against our own better judgement, and after that we can get back to doing our job."

The officer grunted something unintelligible, gave her the warrant back and handed her a visitor's pass. He pushed a button, there was a click, and a low buzz, clearly indicated that the electronic lock on the heavy door on her right side, had opened.

"Go through that door, follow the corridor until you've passed the pastoral space, then immediately go to the right, and the third door gives access to the high regime department. The door opens when you scan your badge, but when you are inside, you have to use the intercom if you want to get out."

Kindly, Nina thanked him and walked through the door, which opened as soon as she approached it. Under his breath she thought she heard the officer mutter something along the lines of, "I hope you wrote your will," but she ignored it. She was sure she had nothing to fear from Martin Decker, although she couldn't exactly say why.

She had been to this prison before, but never in the heavy regime area. When she got there, it reminded her more of a hospital than a prison. Light colours, few facilities, and a number of offices to her left and right. No bars, but reinforced glass wherever she looked. Every door had both a badge-scanner and a combination lock. However, to her great surprise, the door she was pointed to by the officer had no number combination, only a badge scanner. She held her visitor's badge to the scanner and the heavy door open almost silently.

She entered.

This chamber had a different atmosphere. Gloomier, as if its hue alone was supposed to suppress the very thought of escape. When she looked around she saw that there were three cells, consisting of three concrete walls, and a glass wall. Only one of the cells was lit, artificial but as natural as possible. She could see a flat screen television hanging on one wall, opposite the other wall she saw a bookcase. There was also a table, a chair, and a shower in the corner. Martin Decker sat on a desk chair in the middle of the cell. Gently, he rocked back and forth on it.

A red line had been drawn on the floor with a sign saying, 'Stay behind the red line', but Nina stopped at least six feet in front of it. If Martin was surprised to see her, he didn't show it.

"Linda ...," he said. His voice sounded metallic and she saw several speakers in the walls.

"Oh no," he continued, "not 'Linda'. I don't even know your real name. You were Linda when I met you, Linda when you went home with me.... Linda when we...."

Nina knew what kind of a man he was, yet she felt a brief flash of guilt and shame when she heard the sound of his voice. Maybe she felt a little bitterness as well. If he had not trusted her, a lot of the evidence against Rosebrooke and his organization would never had been obtained. Although Martin Decker had many character flaws, he was loyal to his friends. However, Decker recovered so fast, she doubted whether she had actually heard it. He threw his head back and took a deep breath through the nose, spreading his nostrils.

"I can smell you, Clarice," he said, in a creepy monotonous tone, as if he were Hannibal Lecter from the 'Silence of the Lambs'.

Nina suppressed the laugh that came up in her throat. With even the faintest hint off laughter, he wouldn't take her seriously at all and probably wouldn't say anything anymore. She had no idea how to get it this whole thing to work. Be strict? Start talking about their past? Offering something? She considered each option and immediately rejected them. Being strict would probably make him laugh, their past was the reason his was in here and he knew very well she had nothing serious to offer.

She was silent for so long that he asked her. "Okay, it's not Linda, and I assume it's Clarice either. What's your name? I think you owe me your name, after all. I mean, look at where we are."

'Don't play that game,' Nina told herself.

"You really owe your situation to yourself and your boss. You know we still haven't caught Rosebrooke? He'll let you die here, and drink pina colada's on the Costa Rica beaches, at your expense.

"Then you could have him extradited through San Jose, right? Doesn't seem that difficult to me. Well, this was free advice. Now goodbye, officer of an unknown name."

Decker rose from his chair and the light flashed across his face for a moment. Nina couldn't help but be impressed, even in these circumstances he wouldn't let himself be lured out of his tent. Maybe she should try the full-frontal attack, on the off chance that he would blurt something out.

"So he's not in Costa Rica, then tell me where he is."

Decker suddenly found great urgency in studying his fingernails earnestly and did not respond at all. She had expected either an insult or a mockery, but not this silence. Nevertheless, he remained quiet.

Just as she was about to leave empty-handed, Decker opened his mouth again.

"I don't like this character. Is it casual-Friday at the office, officer? A blouse and jeans. Linda wore clothes that suited you better. Beautiful summer dresses, short skirts, and tops. Dresses when I took her out to dinner. My God, officer, what have they done to you. I am here in a glass cage; you are trapped in a completely different kind of cage."

"Philosophical, Martin," she said, but compliments would get her nothing. So she chose to attack instead. "I've noticed that you have a lot of opportunities to read lately."

"I have a lot of wisdom, I know things you want to know, Linda," - he called her by her undercover-name, a good sign - "because that's why you're here. No, don't deny it. You came to get me to spill the beans."

There was no point in denying. That's why she nodded.

"They have already offered me a lot. Reduced sentences, lighter regime, privileges. I rejected every last thing they offered me. Do you know why?"

She decided to try flattery. "Because, despite everything, you have a certain sense of honour and you don't want to screw your buddies."

His face grimaced. "Honour among thieves? That is not supposed to exist."

He walked back and forth behind the glass and seemed to have to overcome something before continuing.

"Listen, when I talk, Rosebrooke will find out sooner or later, especially if he is picked up on some exotic beach. If I get out of this cell any sooner, or put into a lighter regime, he'll know one plus one equals two, and then he'll have me shanked just as quick as he left me behind. I knew that when I started working with him. No Linda, I waited for them to be desperate enough to send you."

That really surprised her.

He must have read her face because he was laughing out loud now. "You want to know why, don't you?"

She knew she was putting too much power in his hands by letting him control the conversation, but she'd nodded before she could stop herself.

"I thought my best course of action was to serve my time here, and if I'm lucky, I will be out in twenty years, sixteen if I show some good behaviour, and if I keep my mouth shut long enough, sooner or later they would send the woman who sealed my fate to me."

His look was impudent as he looked in the eye. "The woman who drove me crazy with her body, from day one. Linda, I've fucked dozens of women, but none of them fucked as horny and uninhibited as you could fuck me."

Nina couldn't help remembering those lust-filled nights she spent with Martin, and there had been many. She had told herself she had to go this far to gain his trust, and maybe it had been true for the first time it had happened. But, at the other countless times that had followed, she knew she had only used it as an excuse. It was just too good with him not to. It was not just who he was, but who she was: not the neat, but also somewhat boring Detective Nina Beaumont, but when she went to bed with him, she was Linda Sullivan, uninhibited and vulgar. Deep down, she should have admitted that the horny adventures with Martin, had made it more difficult to get him arrested when that time came.

Yet when the operation was over, she had quickly stepped out of Linda Sullivan's high heels and slipped back into Nina Beaumont's sneakers. She had to remember that she was Nina Beaumont, and she wasn't here to be addressed like that. Don't fall for his sweet talk, she told herself, you know he's a crook.

"Have you become a cliché, Martin?" she asked him, "the thug who forsakes his wicked ways for the love of a girl?"

He shook his head. "I'm not talking about love. If it were love, you would never have locked me up. I'm talking about sex. Sex with that delicious body of yours. I miss it. I would do a lot to have it again, I admit to that."

Of course, that caressed her ego, but Nina laughed scornfully. "I'm afraid that will not happen, Martin."

He sighed theatrically. "No, not as long as I'm here, and by the time I get out of here I'll be too old and ugly for you. Then let's make it a game. " He returned to his chair and sat down. He looked at her under his eyebrows and did a new Lecter imitation: "Quid pro quo, Clarice....I scratch your back, you scratch mine."

She shook her head. "Goodbye, Martin."

When she started to leave, he said, raising his voice. "You don't even know what I want from you and what I will give in return. Do one little thing for me, and I'll tell you which airport Rosebrooke fled from. A cold track, but maybe you can do something with it."

She didn't think he was going to lie. She didn't know why she thought that, but she decided to stay a little longer. However, she also didn't want to give in too quickly, so she pretended to linger in the hope that he would say something.

That worked.

"All I ask is for you to untie your hair Linda. It looks so boring in that bun."

She looked at him as if he had gone mad. That was a really low price for what he was willing to give her.

"That information should certainly be worth taking that bobby pin out of that bun, and letting your beautiful hair fall over your shoulders."

She gave in but pretended to be reluctant to pull out the bun. It collapsed halfway down her neck and then got stuck. "The airport?" she asked him casually.

"No, no, not like that. Show off that hair properly. The way you wore it when we were together."

"Very well," she sighed with more disgust than she actually felt.

She combed the bun all the way out with her hands, so that the hair fell over her shoulders.

"You cut it," he remarked.

"The airport?" she asked him. She had no intention of giving him more than he asked for.

Decker said carelessly, with regret in his gaze. "If everything went wrong, Rosebrooke always said he wouldn't use the airports in Louisiana. There, they would grab him right away, but he also knew he wouldn't be able to cross the state lines. So, quite some time ago, he arranged for some flights from Lake Charles."

"Lake Charles? No airport, there, and you told me he would not fly." He was just having fun with her and she was stupid enough to participate in it.

"No civilian airport, that's right. But there's a military airport. Rosebrooke has contacts there that brought him across the Texas State Line."

An incredible story.

"And you expect me to believe that?"

That seemed to entertain him.

"You'll believe me if I tell you more."

"I'm listening..."

"Quid pro quo.... I said I would give you the name of the airport in exchange for your loose hair. I have fulfilled my end of the bargain. For the exact way he pulled it off I want something different."

After saying this, he leaned back, semi-relaxed, but his gaze wouldn't let go of hers. She knew she shouldn't bite and yet she did.

"What do you want for that?"

"A look at your boobs. Or rather, I am curious if the cop has just as nice bras as my Linda. In that area you really never disappointed. Every time a new exciting and matching set. What dedication, Agent. Something new every time. I should have become suspicious straightaway."

The Operation to stop and catch Rosebrooke's organization had cost a lot of money, and some of that money was spent on purchasing suitable outfits for Linda Sullivan. Nina could almost feel the soft fabrics on her skin again when he brought it up. Something stirred deep inside her. Something she had suppressed from the moment she had become Nina again, but this had to stop quickly, before she gave in to him.

"Dream on, Martin," she answered bluntly. "We'll find him without your help."

"But a lot faster with my help, don't you think? And nobody finds out this way."

She shook her head. "Have you gone utterly mad? There are cameras here."

He nodded. "Cameras whose red lights have not flickered for fifteen minutes. Almost as if someone had them turned off before she got here. So,... what will it be? Are you walking out of here with just the name of a military airbase, and will you have to work it out for yourself? You must know what a tight knitted, but also corrupt organization, the army is. Take one step forward and before you can blink an eye, Rosebrooke will be informed and then he will be three steps ahead of you. So, unbutton that blouse and show me your bra."

He was right. The army did not like to spill the beans, and even if they did, there would be a paper trail. Indeed, no one would see, no one would even know if she just did what he asked her to do. In addition, it would help her career if she got information about Rosebrooke.

She unbuttoned her blouse. She saw the change in Martin Decker take place before her eyes. He suddenly sat up straight, then leaned forward as she pushed her blouse open slightly. A black, practical sports bra... very different from what he was used to seeing wrapped around her body. Yet still, he kept his promise.

"Men in the army are lured in with all kinds of fun commercials about adventures and riding in tanks, but very often they don't do anything at all. They spent the day playing blackjack and talking shit. The perfect market for drugs. Rosebrooke has been pushing dope on that base for over twenty years. He has many contacts there, including among professional soldiers who now hold high offices. They made sure he was brought to Texas by helicopter. He took a plane in Houston, since nobody was looking for him in Texas, he could escape. The helicopter pilot was a sergeant, I'm sure. We had him completely under our control after he failed to pay his debts once and had to do chores for us ever since."

"Do you know his name?"

"First and last name. I once had to break his fingers myself when he was a corporal. That is included in his file but masked as a pub fight. I am telling you this so you can verify my story."

His shameless confession didn't even shock her, she was too distracted by the sound of his voice and his gaze on her still covered breasts. She couldn't help it; she felt her nipples getting hard and luckily she could just suppress a shiver. She even found herself arching her back a little, so that her breasts were pushed more towards him.

"What's his name?" she managed to say.

"First name for your left tit. Last name for your right tit. Both if you slide up that bra and show me your boobs," he replied, without taking his eyes off her breasts.

Nina hesitated, but Linda had apparently made her comeback in her mind. Her bra had slipped up before she even realized it. He seemed to drink in all of the beauty of her bare breasts and licked his lips almost imperceptibly.

"Your nipples are hard, Linda." he said.

"Look," she said, under her breath. She brushed her nipples with both of her thumbs. She kept looking at him, he kept looking at her breasts. For only a moment he made eye contact with her.

"Staff-Sergeant Anthony Williams. Come closer Linda..."

She couldn't stop herself and walked over to him, getting closer to the glass. She felt the cold it radiated, and her nipples grew even harder.

"Closer...," Martin Decker said, hoarse.

She took another step.

"Even closer...."

With one more tiny step, she would hit the glass with the tips of her protruding nipples.

Martin got up too, his pants clearly taut, and walked over to the glass. Just like in the movies, when a husband and wife visit each other in prison, he put his hand against the glass, right where her breasts touched the glass.