STRATAGEM Chapter 9

NYPD 33rd Precinct | Washington Heights, New York

“ALL RIGHT STORM, GET YOUR ASS UP.” The uniformed officer walked into the interrogation room, working his bubblegum like a bull chewing cud. He stood about six-foot-five and probably about a hundred pounds larger than Derek, evoking a smaller version of Shaq. Best not share that analogy.
Derek stood and walked out the door with the officer—Robinson, according to his placard. “I’m supposed to get a phone call.”
“Talk to the detective.”
“I did.”
“Not my problem.” Robinson led him out past a maze of desks. Beyond the last row, Paige sat on a bench holding Hulk’s leash. A female officer sat with her but seemed preoccupied with her cell phone.