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CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

At the East Palo Alto City Jail, the officers working the security line joke with McCray about intruding on their turf, ask about his family, let him breeze through the checkpoints. They’re not as friendly to Keller, but she still gets the McCray treatment. It took the East Palo Alto cops less than an hour to process Wong after McCray called them in. A parole violation was the cleanest way to detain him for questioning.

In a dirty interview room, Keller and McCray eye Wong, who slouches at a small table. Wong’s handcuffs are secured to a steel bar on the tabletop.

McCray puts his cell phone on the table, recording the meeting. He states the date and time, identifies who’s present.

“You are speaking to us without counsel, Mr. Wong,” Keller says. “Is that by your free choice?”

“Yes.”

“Just so we’re all clear, I want to remind you of your rights.” Keller then recites the Miranda warning and Wong says he understands.

“I think this is all one big misunderstanding,” Wong says.

Keller frowns.

“That neighborhood,” Wong continues, “it isn’t, well, the greatest. I didn’t know you were the police. I got scared, which is why I ran.”

Keller feels a nerve in her face twitch. “That doesn’t explain why you were sitting on that bench leering at underage girls,” she says. “That violates your conditions of release.”

“I wasn’t—I had no idea they would be there. I’m permitted to go on walks and I stayed within the boundary. It’s Sunday, I didn’t know kids would be in the area. I avoid anywhere near kids.”

McCray jumps in now: “That sounds like something you need to take up with the judge. We don’t have time to—”

“You asked if I’ve seen my son,” Wong says.

Keller now understands why he was willing to talk. Andrew Wong wants to leverage anything he might know to get himself out of this jam.

“We’re listening,” Keller says.

“Perhaps if you can explain to the prosecutor that this was all a misunderstanding, I might have some… some information about Mark.”

McCray blows out a breath. Keller knows why. It’s one of the sad realities of law enforcement. The system doesn’t work unless deals are cut with monsters.

Yet, she’s not sure she can stomach a trade with this oily man who molested young girls—who, even after being imprisoned for ten years, found himself on a bench ogling girls with ponytails and braces.

McCray asks Keller to step outside the room with him for a moment.

“This guy…” she says.

“Your call.”

“ My call?” She offers a wry smile. “I wanted this to be yours.”

McCray sighs again. “I don’t think they’re going to send him back to prison for sitting on that bench, running from us. His story is a lie, but a plausible one.”

Keller agrees. “What if he’s playing us?” she says.

“Always a risk.”

She bunches her lips. “Fine.”

Back in the room, McCray turns his phone back on record, says, “We don’t have authority to make any commitments. I’m just a campus cop and Agent Keller would have to run this through a bureaucracy to give you any firm commitment. But if you’re asking for my word that I’ll support you with your PO, with the prosecutor, I can do that. That should be enough for this to go away. But only if you’re not B.S.-ing us.”

Wong’s mouth tightens. “I need it in writing.”

“Then I’m afraid we’re done,” McCray says. He stands. Keller does too, joining the bluff.

It doesn’t take long before Wong blinks. “Wait.”

They both turn but don’t sit back down.

“I need you to say on the recording you’ll support me. That this was a misunderstanding.”

McCray says, “I’ve told you what I can commit to. You have my word.”

More thinking. Then a nod and: “Mark came to see me.”

“When?” Keller says.

“On Friday.”

The day the students went missing.

“Last Friday?” Keller confirms.

“Yeah. I don’t work on Fridays. He showed up at the house that afternoon.”

“What did he want?”

Wong swallows. “He said he needs a lawyer. He wanted to know about my lawyer.”

“What did he need a lawyer for?”

“He didn’t say.”

McCray gives an exaggerated sigh.

“I swear,” Wong says. “I asked. He just said he needed some advice.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him I don’t have a lawyer. My private lawyer from my trial burned through all my money and the jury came back in twenty minutes guilty on all counts. I wouldn’t recommend that idiot to anyone. And my appeal lawyer was a public defender.”

“Did Mark tell you anything, anything at all, about why he needed a lawyer? Why he’d come see you after—how long? Ten years, right?”

He shakes his head. “I said I’d like him back in my life. I’d like to get to know him.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing. He just said it was a mistake coming and took off.”

They press Wong on the details, but his story stays the same. Keller believes him: If he was lying, he’d go all-in and make it more salacious than this cryptic encounter in which Mark needed a lawyer.

Outside the jailhouse, Keller says, “I think he was telling the truth. You?”

McCray nods.

“So are you going to keep your word to him?” Keller asks.

McCray looks at her and reveals both hands, each with fingers crossed.