Chapters (41)
But Berger resisted walking. “Elizabeth, please help me!”
“Let’s go,” Oliver said, pushing him forward.
“Myron, who should I call?” Elizabeth asked.
“Gold and Brown,” he shouted out.
“You can tell them we’re going to book their client at the Devonshire Substation,” Marge said.
Oliver shoved him forward. “He’ll probably be transferred to Van Nuys jail for arraignment—”
“Oh God!” Berger moaned. “Stop. I’ll tell you everything. Just please don’t book me for murder.”
Oliver stopped walking. “You’ll tell us everything?”
“Yes, yes.” Berger nodded rapidly. “I’ll tell you everything.”
“So suddenly you know what I’m talking about,” Oliver said.
“Yes. Yes, I do know. And I’ll tell you. Just please don’t book me.”
“He asked for a lawyer,” Elizabeth pointed out. “You can’t talk to him now.”
Oliver glared at her. “One minute you’re spitting in the guy’s face, the next you’re his advocate?”
“He’s my colleague!” Elizabeth said. “We have our own ways of censuring. I’m not about to let him drown in your hands.”
“Oh please!” Marge said wearily. “C’mon! Let’s go.”
“Wait!” Berger yelled out. “Yes, I’ll talk to my lawyer. But I guarantee you, if you wait, you won’t be sorry. You’ll like what I have to tell you. Just…please…hold off…with the…murder charges. Because bottom line, I swear I didn’t do it.”
Oliver and Marge exchanged glances. “Are you willing to take a polygraph?”
“Yes, of course. Right away. Just don’t book me.”
Oliver shrugged. “What exactly do you have in mind, Doc?”
“Let me talk to my lawyer. I know what you want, Detective Oliver. I know you’re after the big guys. Please. Be patient. I promise you won’t be sorry.”
Oliver looked at Marge. “What do you think?”
“We should ask the Loo.”
“So we’ll ask the Loo.” Oliver paused. “Should we hold off on booking him?”
Berger looked at Marge with hopeful eyes. She shrugged. “He gave us a rough time with the arrest—”
“I’m very sorry about that,” Berger said. “Very sorry. Please. Let me talk to my lawyer. Then I’ll talk to you.”
Again, Marge shrugged. “Okay. You bought yourself some time. You’d better come through.”
Berger smiled. “I will. I swear I’ll make you happy.”
Oliver said, “Last time someone said those words to me, I wound up with crabs. C’mon. Let’s go.”