Unmarked

Detective McMann slammed his fist on the worn surface of the table in front of Campbell. “Just tell us what’s in the god damned package, and we can get this over with. If you had nothing to hide, you would just tell us, right?”

Campbell stifled a giggle. “Who said I had nothing to hide? Also— to follow up— why don’t you just open the package and find out?” Campbell nodded toward the brown paper package lying just beyond officer Campbell’s fist.

Detective Garcia slipped into the interrogation room and leaned back against the door to shut it behind him . He stared down at a thick file with a nice bold label on it that read, “Campbell, Carson.”

“We can’t open the box because we don’t have a search warrant; you’re being detained based on reasonable suspicion. Until you give us probably cause, we can’t get a warrant. We can keep you here for 48 hours, though, so I hope you don’t have somewhere to be.”

Campbell shrugged. “Sure don’t. Never do. I was just headed home. With the….. package.”

“Headed home to enjoy the package huh?” Officer Garcia prodded.

“Never said that.”

Officer McMann rolled his eyes and let his head fall backward.

“Campbell, for the love of god, we don’t want to do this all night. You and I both know you ain’t exactly known for doing good deeds around here, and I’m more than certain by the looks of your encyclopedia-sized file you’ve got priors.”

Campbell raised his brow and curled his lips into a submissive frown. “Yeah, I suppose you’ve got me there.” He stared at the package for a moment, which quickly turned his frown into a mischievous grin.

“Tell you what, boys. I’ll make you a deal.”

Detective Garcia cut him off. “You don’t decide who makes the deals here, Campbell.”

Detective McMann raised his hand. “You’re right, Garcia,” he spoke softly, “but I am curious. How could this possibly warrant a deal?”

“Because you’ll look like idiots if you don’t get any more information for your warrant, and I would, just for once, like my life to not be fuel for the police blotter. My grandma reads the paper guys— it’s getting depressing for the old lady. If one of us is gonna lose, let’s at least make it interesting.”

Garcia raised a finger. “Or, we look into those priors and arrest you right now?”

“Garcia! Come on! I’ve got nowhere to be, you’ve got nowhere to be, let’s live a little huh?” Campbell leaned forward with an open-mouthed smile, awaiting a response. Detective Adam Garcia despised Carson Campbell almost as much as he despised working every insignificant mischief charge that came of his activities. Detective Gordon McMann, however, did not share the precinct’s general disdain for Campbell. McMann saw a mixed up kid in a rough neighbourhood doing what he knows and never really intending to hurt someone most days. Today however, McMann had a hunch: these brown paper packages had been making their rounds in various districts as a way to disguise how gangs move weapons. Looks like a dozen cannoli from Virgillio’s, but it’s actually a car bomb. Looks like a couple sandwiches from the bodega, but it’s eighteen pounds of ammo. Usually they give the packages to less conspicuous characters than Campbell, but this seemed like a classic case of reverse psychology.

Campbell continued. “If as a team you can guess what’s in the package, I’ll tell you if you’re right and you can have it. If you fail, then I get to walk out of here with that magnificent brown paper package in my hands, and you guys leave me alone for at least a month.”

McMann, now sitting in the chair across the table from Campbell, leaned back and crossed his arms. “You’re just gonna run the clock out huh.”

“Yep.”

McMann looked at Garcia, who rolled his eyes. They knew they had nothing, and it’s not like Campbell was in the dark about it either. They were lucky the kid didn’t have a lawyer.

“Fine. Have it your way, punk.” McMann pushed back from the table and gestured to the chair. “Garcia, you have at it first.”

Garcia scoffed. “No. That’s not even how this works we have to decide as a team who—“

“—YES I know but I’m gonna examine his every move, breath, and behaviour as you give your theory, you’ll do the same for mine, and then we nail this dude and possibly get to the bottom of some serious shit. It beats the hell out of sitting here for 2 days.” McMann stood waiting with his hands on his hips. Garcia forcefully sat down and shuffled forward, visibly annoyed.

Garcia put on a big sarcastic smile, took a deep breath, and began.

“Fine. I think there’s absolutely nothing of interest in that package. I think you’re playing us, likely distracting us from the actual crime occurring on the street, and the box could very well be empty. Yeah, you know what? I think it’s empty. I think any of those gang bangers out there would be stupid to let you carry anything of importance because they know you’re all this precinct has time for, but they knew damn well if they sent you packing with that god damned empty box, we would just have to stop you due to the increased reports on these brown paper packages. I think I’m wasting my time, looking at an empty box, and even if I “win” your little challenge, I’m gonna have an empty box and an empty jail cell. This game sucks. You suck, Campbell. I kind of hate you.”

Campbell clapped his hands slowly, then picked up speed as he rose to his feet to give a standing ovation. Garcia rubbed his temples.

“Honest. Raw. Sticking to the facts. Garcia, you’re brilliant. Completely wrong, but you’re brilliant nonetheless. I wish you were right. I would also very much like for you to be my new dad, sir.”

“HEY HEY WOAH THERE” McMann shouted at Campbell, “THAT WAS NOT OUR GUESS THAT WAS ONLY GARCIAS! WE DIDN’T DECIDE AS A TEAM!” U

Campbell shot his hands out in defence with palms stretched. “Easy there McMann. You get your guess too. Garcia’s was so dumb, it only feels right to let you have a turn as well. So please,” Campbell flicked his hand at Garcia, “scoot scoot Garcia. McMann, the floor is yours.”

Campbell eagerly sat back down, pulled his chair forward, and folded his hands on the table.

McMann wanted to trust his gut and let his guard down: it was time to let this kid know he understood. So he leaned forward and matched Campbell with his hands folded in front of him as well.

“I know what’s in the package, Campbell. It’s another bad decision. A sad, start to what could be a tragic ending for you. I don’t want that for you, man. I honestly really like you and I have a lot of empathy for you and the things you do to survive. I grew up in the neighbourhood too. I know it’s a lot easier to get down and dirty than it is to do anything else. But you don’t need easy, Campbell. You can do so much more. Whoever gave you this package, whatever they promised you, it’s not the right choice. I don’t wanna lock you up, man. I want to help you. I want to save you before it’s too late.”

Campbell met McMann’s gaze, his eyes glassy. He ran his hands through his hair, leaned back, and forcefully exhaled.

“Wow,” he croaked, “I can’t believe….. how incredibly wrong you are.”

Campbell picked up the box and shook it. A hollow thuddy noise boomed through the interrogation room.

“It’s a box of donuts, you absolute pine cones. Enjoy explaining this one to the captain! PEACE!” Campbell ripped the door open and glided out of the precinct. McMann sat at the table, hand still folded, avoiding eye contact with Garcia.

Garcia rubbed his temples again before sneering at McMann, “nice speech, detective pine cone.”

McMann stood up and ambled to the window overlooking the bustling street below. Just in front of the precinct, unwrapping a brown paper package on top of the trash can, was Campbell. He peeled the brown paper away to reveal a bright pink box. Campbell flipped open the lid and chose a chocolate glazed donut. He noticed McMann at the window and raised his donut as if to give a toast before taking an over-enthused and extremely large bite.

“Son of a bitch…. He’s got good taste in donuts.” McMann growled.

Campbell crossed the street, toting his box of donuts under his right arm. Just beyond the sight line of the precinct, Campbell darted into an alley and jogged toward a Cadillac with the trunk popped. He swapped his pink box for another with the driver.

“We’re clear. I’ll have this baby there in no time. Oh and try the chocolate glazed— I think they used a different type of powdered sugar. It’ll change your life.”