9.
“Ms Whitaker! Wake up! We’ve arrived.”
“We have? Oh! What time is it, Officer Newman?” said Rose, rising from where she had bee asleep, lying down on the back seat of the police cruiser, and looking out the window.
“Around 4:30 in the morning, ma’am.”
“Hey! What’s going on over there?”
“Where, ma’am?”
“Over there. See! That area over there, all lit up, with the police vans and all those people.”
Newman turned and stared out the car door window, and took his time before answering.
“I’m guessing, from the looks of it, that those vans are there because they’ve just delivered all those protesters arrested at yesterday’s riot. Looks like they arrested an awful lot of kids, doesn’t it?”
“It does. What do you suppose will happen to them here?”
“Rioting is a capital crime, as you already know, Ms. Whitaker. They’ll be thrown in cells, and then one by one they’ll be interrogated by FNPA investigators, who will try to find out who they are, what their role in the riot might have been, whether there were others involved who escaped arrest, whether there were others who had knowledge of the plan and may have put them up to it, and so on.”
“I see ...”
“I think you’re smart enough, Ms. Whitaker, to realize it’s that last one you need to worry about. If any of them identify you as involved in any way, that will be used against you.”
“These interrogations ... um ... how do they ... I mean, what if those kids refuse to cooperate?”
“I think you and I both know the answer to that. There are many effective ways to extract information.”
“You mean torture?”
“I think it’s time now to take you in, Ms. Whitaker.
“You didn’t answer my question!”
“It’s time now to take you in, Ms. Whitaker.” he replied, as he opened the car door and got out.
Moments later he was guiding Rose through the entrance to a cinder block building over which a sign read ‘FNPA Goose River Center, Special Investigations, Receiving’.
The woman at the front desk was well known to Newman, and greeted him with a warm smile.
“Hello Queenie!” he called out cheerfully as he steered Rose up to the desk.
“Top o-the-mornin’ to you Newman, and what have we got here?”
“Ms. Rose Whitaker, detained for questioning with regard to yesterday’s riot.”
“Ah, yes I see her file on my monitor. Your body cam video is there too. I’ll be passing all this on to the interrogators.”
“Splendid, who’s on tap to handle her case?”
“Ah, let me see ... right ... it’s Murphy and Spencer.”
“Okay, could have been worse for her ...”
“You might say. Jones and Hauptmann are off duty. Now, if you’ll kindly hand Ms. Whitaker over to me, I’ll take it from here. Oh, and If you’re thinking you might stick around, I hear they’ve got fresh pastry in at the canteen.”
“Right, sounds good.”
He couldn’t help but throw one last glance over his shoulder as he headed for the canteen. She was headed off in the other direction on Queenie’s arm, but before they disappeared from sight she looked back and offered him a weak smile.
Just another case, he chided to himself on the way to the canteen. But he couldn’t deny that he had developed a soft spot for her and wished her well.
Inside the canteen, he was warmly greeted by Murphy and Spencer, who waved him over to their table.
“Well, speak of the devil!” grinned Spencer.
“Who, me?”
“Yeah you! Murphy and I have just been reviewing the Whitaker case. We’ve read the digital transcript of your interview and Murphy’s got the body cam video here on his tablet.”
“And she’s quite the looker!” exclaimed Murphy, with a sly wink.
“Sure is!” agreed Spencer. “I don’t remember any teachers looking like her when I was in school! And she certainly fell for that line about how regulations require that you and your body camera be present even while she’s getting dressed, didn’t she!”
“Well, I ...
“And what an ass! My God, Newman! And a nice rack too. I nearly lost it when I saw that part where she tucked her tits into her bra,” enthused Murphy. “It’s a wonder you didn’t throw her down on that bed and fuck her brains out!”
“Alright, enough guys!” Newman pleaded, shaking his head. “Listen, kidding aside now, she’s pretty scared and not a bad person. So do me a favor and don’t be too hard on her today.”
“She’s gotten to you then,” said Spencer with a more serious and business-like expression on his face. “How deeply into this was she? Ringleader? Or just someone in the wrong place?”
“Truth be told, guys. I’m not sure, but I hope it’s the latter and she gets off with a little public JP.”
“Well, we’ll see, said Spencer, pushing back his chair and getting to his feet. “Time to sit down with her and see what she’ll give us. Want to sit in on this one, Newman?”
“No, I was up all night and I’m bushed. I’d just be in the way.”
“Right, here’s the key to my office. Go on in there and sack out. No one will disturb you there.”
“Thanks, Spencer.
****************
Five hours later, Newman was awake and hungry. He left Spencer’s office and headed back to the canteen, where he bought a sandwich and a cup of coffee.
He was just finishing the sandwich when Spencer and Murphy turned up and joined him.
“Here’s your office key, Spencer. Thanks”
“No problem.”
“Well, tell me. How did it go with Whitaker.”
“She’s not giving anything up, Newman. Scared as hell, totally clammed up.”
“Have you had to get rough with her?”
“For the most part, no. They’ve started interrogating all those arrested protesters over in the other Unit this morning, and we kinda figured one of those kids would give her up if she was really involved, but so far no one over there is talking over there. So just before lunch we left her with something to think about.”
“Always a good tactic.”
“You want to go over and take a look, Newman? She’s in ‘Interrogation Room 3A’, and I left the door to the two-way mirror room open. Go take a gander. Maybe you can give us a tip or two on how to get her to talk after observing her.”
“Ok. Think I will,” agreed Newman, draining his coffee and leaving what was left of his sandwich on the table.
Five minutes later, after a quick exchange of pleasantries with Queenie, he was standing in front of the two-way mirror, staring at Rose.
Spencer and Murphy had certainly give her something to think about. They had left her suspended from the ceiling, strappado-style, arms pulled back and cuffed. And they had stripped her naked. Her flowered spring dress was draped over the back of a chair. Her bra and panties lay on the middle of the floor floor, her discarded sandals over against the wall.
They hadn’t yet suspended her to the point of any serious strain ... just enough to pull her arms uncomfortably back and upwards, forcing her to lean well forward and stand on her tippy toes.
As he watched, she rotated slowly around, tugging at her cuffed wrists high above her back, twisting and gyrating, in a vain attempt to find a more comfortable position. Her body was sheened with sweat, her hair matted, her face reddened with exertion. As was usually the case in these matters, Spencer and Murphy had turned the room temperature way up when they left the room.
Slowly rotating around, she presented him with her ass-side ... cheeks somewhat spread given her bent-over posture ... and his mind flashed back to when she bent over with her back to him to step into her panties back in her bedroom. Only this time he had a prolonged look, and a clear view of her cute little puckered asshole and the invitingly meaty lips and narrow slit of her pussy.
Then she came around, dancing on tiptoe, as she attempted to change her position again. He saw her turn her head towards the mirror as though she sensed she was being watched. He wondered how she could tell and if she suspected it was him as he admired the lovely shape of dangling breasts tipped by thick erect nipples.
“Nice to look at, huh?” said Murphy who had slipped into the room unnoticed.
“Absolutely. So .... what’s next for her?
“Well, if I had my druthers, I’d fuck her from behind using both holes,” replied Murphy, “but pain is more likely to lead to results, so we’ll start by using an electro-prod on some of her most sensitive parts. Care to watch?”
TO BE CONTINUED
