under the big black sun: a fable
Martin, leaving the cell, detains Pat briefly in the hall. They recognize each other from a past scene on the west end of town, a homicide/mutilation at first believed to have been tied with drug trade but later correlated to the interstate drifter case.
Martin has an audience here for his now-familiar complaint about the on-again off-again status of the front desk's permission regarding his sister's interviewing Mac for television; "He has completely and unequivocally stated that he does not want to appear onscreen, and has made a sworn statement to his lawyer to that effect." Pat listens dutifully, then asks cagily about Kelly and Glasseye, how that series turned out.
Martin skips the question, eager to point out a slip-up in the department. "I'm not going to print this but, when your plainclothes interviewed Glasseye right after Sarah disappeared, that wasn't him." Martin gives a stifled laugh. "His cousin, the detectives went up to him, Ret. They have the same last name, see? That's all the detectives ever asked him, his last name. Ret just tells them his verifiable whereabouts the night of, and he doesn't know anything about Sarah, and they let him go. He's not about to straighten them out because he's figuring, here's two rednecks who think all black guys look alike, right?" Martin pops Pat's arm playfully.
Pat does not respond. "Excuse me okay, Martin?"
"Sure. Catch you later."
Pat goes to the file building. He knows the girl there who will let him see it even though he is not actually on the case.
He finds the notes, reads the physical description. Flips to Glasseye's dossier, vital stats.
On his way to the chief's office he does not even walk fast.
