The Room My Father Built
“Because as of this afternoon, what I’ve got is a man entering his own house, which he is entitled to do, at an hour he’s entitled to do it, wearing a hat.” Ruiz turned the legal pad around and started drawing boxes on it, which he did for the next twenty minutes and which I found unaccountably steadying.
“You saw a syringe.
Did you see a needle?”
“No.”
“Could you swear, on a stand, under cross, that the object in his hand was a syringe and not a pen light, a vape, a pill bottle, a torch?”
I sat with that.
“No,” I said.
“I could swear it was cylindrical and about that long.”