Jacalyn Vasquez, minus three kids and makeup and jewelry, looked even youngerthan when I’d seen her on Sunday. Streaked hair was tied back in a somberponytail. She wore a loose white blouse, blue jeans, and sneakers. Florid acneplayed havoc with her forehead and cheeks. Her eyes had regressed into sootysockets.
A tall honey-haired woman in her twenties held Vasquez’s arm. The blonde’slocks were long and silky. She wore a tight black suit that showcased a bikinifigure. A ruby stud in her left nostril fought the suit’s conservative cut. Thepretty hair and tight body sparred with a monkeyish face the camera wouldsavage.
She surveyed the tiny space and frowned. “How’re we all going to fit inhere?”
Milo smiled. “And you are?”
“Brittany Chamfer, Public Defender’s Office.”
“I thought Mr. Vasquez’s attorney was Kevin Shuldiner.”
“I’m a third-year law student,” said Brittany Chamfer. “Working with theExoneration Project.” She amplified her frown. “This is like a closet.”
“Well,” said Milo, “one less body shouldhelp. Enjoy the fresh air, Ms. Chamfer. Come on in, Ms. Vasquez.”
“My instruction was to stay with Jackie.”
“My instruction is that you enjoy the fresh air.” He stood and the chairsqueaked. Silencing it with one hand, he offered the seat to Jacalyn Vasquez.“Right here, ma’am.”
Brittany Chamfer said, “I’m supposed to stay.”
“You’re not an attorney and Ms. Vasquez hasn’t been charged with anything.”
“Still.”
Milo took one big step that brought him tothe doorway. Brittany Chamfer had to step back to avoid collision, and the armshe’d used to support Jacalyn Vasquez pulled free.
Vasquez looked past me. The office could’ve been miles of glacier.
Brittany Chamfer said, “I’ll have to call the office.”
Milo ushered Vasquez in, closed the door.
By the time she sat down, Jacalyn Vasquez was crying.
 
Milo gave her a tissue. When her eyesdried, he said, “You have something to tell me, Ms. Vasquez?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What is it, ma’am?”
“Armando was protecting us.”
“Protecting the family?”
“Uh-huh.”
“From…”
“Him.”
“Mr. Peaty?”
“The pervert.”
“You knew Mr. Peaty to be a pervert?”
Nod.
“How did you know that?”
“Everyone said.”
“Everyone in the building.”
“Yeah.”
“Like Mrs. Stadlbraun.”
“Yeah.”
“Who else?”
“Everyone.”
“Can you give me some names?”
Eyes down. “Everyone.”
“Did Mr. Peaty ever do anything perverted that you know about personally?”
“He looked.”
“At…”
Jacalyn Vasquez poked her left breast. Milosaid, “He looked at you.”
“A lot.”
“He ever touch you?”
Head shake.
“His looks made you feel uncomfortable.”
“Yeah.”
“You tell Armando?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t want to make him mad.”
“Armando has a temper.”
Silence.
“So Peaty looked at you,” said Milo. “Youfigure that made it okay for Armando to shoot him?”
“Also the calls. That’s what I’m here to tell you.”
Milo’s eyes narrowed. “What calls, ma’am?”
“The night. Calling, hanging up, calling, hanging up. I figured it was him.”
“Peaty?”
“Yeah.”
“Because…”
“He was a pervert.” Her eyes dipped again.
“You figured it was Mr. Peaty harassing you,” said Milo.
“Yeah.”
“Had he done that before?”
Hesitation.
“Ms. Vasquez?”
“Uh-uh.”
“He hadn’t done it before but you suspected it was him. Did Mr. Shuldinercome up with that?”
“It coulda been him!”
Milo said, “Any other reason the callsbothered you?”
“They kept hanging up.”
“They,” said Milo. Stretching the word.
Vasquez looked up, confused.
Milo said, “Maybe you were worried about a‘they,’ Jackie.”
“Huh?”
“Armando’s old homeboys.”
“Armando don’t have no homeboys.”
“He used to, Jackie.”
Silence.
“Everyone knows he used to run with the 88s, Jackie.”
Vasquez sniffed.
“Everyone knows,” Milo repeated.
“That was, like, a long time ago,” said Vasquez. “Armando don’t bang nomore.”
“Who’s they?”
“The calls. There was a bunch.”
“Any other calls last night?”
“My mother.”
“What time?”
“Like six.” Jacalyn Vasquez sat up straighter. “The other one wasn’t nohomeboys.”
“What other one?”
“After the ones that hung up. Someone talked. Like a whisper, you know?”
“A whisper.”
“Yeah.”
“What’d they whisper about.”
“Him. They said he was dangerous, liked to hurt women.”
“Someone whispered that about Peaty?”
“Yeah.”
“You heard this.”
“They talked to Armando.”
“What time did this whispering call come in, Jackie?”
“Like…we were in bed with the TV. Armando answered and he was pissed off’cause a the other calls hanging up. He’s, like, started yelling into the phoneand then he’s, like, stopped, listened. I said what, he waved his hand, like,you know? He listened and his face got all red. That was the last time.”
“Armando got mad.”
“Real mad.”
“ ’Cause of the whispering.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Did Armando tell you about the whispering after he hung up?”
Jacalyn Vasquez shook her head. “Later.”
“When, later?”
“Last night.”
“Calling from jail.”
“Yeah.”
“You never heard the whispering and Armando didn’t tell you about it at thetime. Then, after Armando shot Peaty, he decided to tell you.”
“I ain’t lyin’.”
“I can understand your wanting to protect your husband—”
“I ain’t lyin’.”
“Let’s say someone did whisper,” said Milo.“You figure that made it okay to shoot Peaty?”
“Yeah.”
“Why’s that, Jackie?”
“He was dangerous.”
“According to the whisperer.”
“I ain’t lyin’.”
“Maybe Armando is.”
“Armando ain’t lyin’.”
“Did Armando say if this whisperer was a man or a woman?”
“Armando said the whispering made so you couldn’t tell.”
“Pretty good whispering.”
“I ain’t lyin’.” Jacalyn Vasquez folded her arms across her bosom and staredat Milo.
“You know, Jackie, that any calls to your apartment can be verified.”
“Huh?”
“We can check your phone records.”
“Fine,” she said.
“The problem is,” said Milo, “all we canknow is that someone called you at a certain time. We can’t verify what wassaid.”
“It happened.”
“According to Armando.”
“Armando ain’t lyin’.”
“All those hang-ups,” said Milo. “Then allof a sudden, someone’s whispering about Peaty and Armando’s listening.”
Jacalyn Vasquez’s hands, still crossed, climbed to her face and pushedagainst her cheeks. Her features turned rubbery. When she spoke throughcompressed lips, the words came out slurred, like a kid goofing.
“It happened. Armando told me. It happened.”
 
Brittany Chamfer was waiting in the hall, playing with her nose stud. Shewhipped around, saw Jacalyn Vasquez dabbing her eyes. “You okay, Jackie?”
“He don’ believe me.”
Chamfer said,” What?”
Milo said, “Thanks for coming in.”
Chamfer said, “We’re looking for the truth.”
“Common goal.”
Chamfer considered her response. “What message should I give to Mr.Shuldiner?”
“Thank him for his civic duty.”
“Pardon?”
“Thank him for creativity, too.”
Brittany Chamfer said, “I’m not going to tell him that. ”
“Have a nice day.”
“I will.” Chamfer flipped her long hair. “Will you ?”
Renewing her grip, she propelled Jacalyn Vasquez up the corridor.
Milo said, “That’s why the D.A.’s officepalmed it on me. What a crock.”
“You’re dismissing it out of hand?&rd............