In one case a suspect had killed six people. His defense attorney asked me if when his confession was given, had I taken notes. I told him, no, that I had just been babysitting while the other detectives took a break.

He asked, ‘Do you mean to tell me that you’re relying on your memory of what my client said?”

Boom! I sucked him right in. “Well, in my twenty-five years as a detective I have never interviewed a mass murderer before.”

“Your honor, I object!” snapped the lawyer.

The tactical lieutenant said to us, “Our guys need to see him. Tell him to turn all the lights on.”

We tell him, “We need you to do us a favor, Bob.”

The guy turns them all off, and comes back on the line, proud as a peacock, “OK, I turned them off.”

“No Bob. We need them on. Turn all the lights on.”

“Oh, sorry.” He drops the phone and goes through the house turning the lights on. He’s compliant, but confused, like a little kid.

We can’t see because there’s a fence there, but Tactical radios us, “OK, they’re on.”

Now, without consulting anybody, the negotiator says just like this, “No, Bob. I wanted a Bud Lite.” We just all burst out laughing and laughing.

Then he starts laughing.