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discerning what it was could usually break the story.
"It might be she got caught by a transit cop. Somebody got off the train and
reported some kind of sexual encounter near the rear of the car. When the cop
approached, Yolanda stuck her head up and cried rape."
"Was he going to lock them up for public lewdness?"
"He tells me he never got that far-she started wailing first," said Ryan.
"And then there's the fact that the sister came home from work early-around
midnight-and Yolanda still wasn't in the house like she was supposed to be."
"What kind of job does the sister have?"
"Exotic dancer. The Pink Pussycat Lounge on Varick Street. That's how she
supports her college education."
"Exotic? That's a lot classier than what I'd call it."
Webster knocked on the door. I waved him in and he stepped aside to introduce
me to Yolanda and her sister, Wanda.
"Why don't you sit right here, Yolanda? And Wanda, I'm going to ask you to
wait in the conference room until I'm ready for you."
"How long's this gonna be? I got school this afternoon," Wanda said.
"The more candid Yolanda is with us, the faster this will go." Wanda seemed
to be pouring out of a costume from a late-night dance performance, and I
couldn't begin to guess in what kind of class she was enrolled.
Wanda tilted her baby sister's chin up so their eyes met. "You tell the lady
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the troof now. Don't be wasting anybody's time when I got things to do."
The young high school dropout claimed that she met Laquon at six o'clock in
the evening the previous Wednesday in front of a Starbucks on Broadway.
"What did you and Laquon talk about?"
"Nothin'."
"Well, how did it begin? What's the very first thing he said?"
"You know, like, he just approached me and told me he thought I was cute, and
like that."
"What were you doing when he came up to you, Yolanda?"
"Nothin'."
"It was about ten degrees outside, and dark, at six o'clock last Wednesday.
Why were you just standing there on the street?"
"I don't remember." Yolanda was looking at her inch-long fingernails, picking
at the glitter that coated each of them in a different color.
"I'd like you to look at me when you answer me, okay? We're talking about
things that happened less than a week ago," I said firmly. "I expect that you
can remember them, so give it a try."
She glanced up at me and went back to rearranging the pattern on her nails.
"I think I was waiting for my boyfriend to get off his shift."
"Does he work at Starbucks?"
"Yeah. He do."
"What time did he finish work?"
"I don't 'xactly know. It was supposed to be six, but when he didn't be out
by a quarter after, I couldn't wait no more."
"Why was that?"
"Because of Laquon. He wanted to take me to a movie."
"How long had you two been talking before you agreed to go to the movies with
Laquon?"
"'Bout ten minutes. Till I knew him good." Yolanda was scratching at the
surface of her nails, sweeping the glitter that fell in her lap onto my
carpet.
"What movie did you go to?"
"I don't remember."
"Where was the theater?"
"Near where we was. Broadway and Lincoln Center."
"What was the movie about?"
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"Some kind of Jackie Chan action thing."
"Well, Yolanda, if you testify in court, you're going to have to tell the
jury every detail about what happened from the time Laquon first started
talking to you. They're not going to be too happy with 'I don't know' or 'I
don't remember.' Juries and judges don't send guys to jail when you can't tell
them everything that went on."
She flicked her nail at me, in disgust, and neon green glitter wafted all
over my desk. "It's not my fault I fell asleep in the movie."
"That's not what Laquon says." If she could bullshit me, I could certainly
bluff her, too. "He told the cop there was a different reason you two weren't
watching the movie."
"Yeah, well, why you be all believin' him? What'd he say?"
"What would you guess he said?"
Yolanda started chewing on a nail. "I don't know."
"Do me a favor and sit on your hands. Stop playing with your polish and sit
on your hands while we talk." I waited while she tucked her pitted nails under
her substantial thighs. "What if I tell you the manager of the theater told
the cops exactly the same thing Laquon said?"
She cocked an eye and stared at me. "He be lying, too." She turned to look
over her shoulder.
"Don't worry. The door's closed. Your sister can't hear us. So they're both
lying when they say you and Laquon were making out in the theater-that you
were kissing each other and-?"
"I didn't like him like that."
"Well, how did you like him?"
"Just like a friend. An old friend."
"What time did the movie end?"
"I don't know."
"Where did you go when the movie ended?"
"I don't remember."
"Did you have anything to eat or to drink?"
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