Don Scribner’s Blog Actor, Screenwriter, Songwriter, Singer

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Before I could respond Whitey had already hung up.  My head was reeling with questions and didn’t want to become consumed with them so decided to work out, play the guitar, shower and relax.

At 2:45 I strolled into a place of recent familiarity, the North Hollywood Police Station and checked in at the front desk.  Sam came out and brought me into a room behind see- through glass.  He walked out just as quickly… all business.  Whitey was seated and smiling.  I knew this day would be interesting as hell.  I was suddenly a part of the process… the investigative process I guess.

Whitey leaned in and spoke confidentially.  “Make like you’re taking notes. There will be people walking in… this is an effort of the Beverly Hills Department and North Hollywood and it’s being recorded.  Having you here is not typical procedure.  Your little buddy Robbie is a recognizable attorney in some areas and is here on his own accord.  But, he can’t be too fucking bright.  His prints were found on your tapes and the boxes.  Sam’s handling the interview and I know he’ll waltz around for a while until he spins and dips.”  Whitey enjoyment was evident and he stood and made a waltzing move to the door.  “Back in a minute with coffee.”

And, in about a minute he was handing me coffee.  “It’s in the next room.  And your buddy’s walking in and he looks like a million bucks.”

He was escorted, offered a seat and the detective left.  It was a situation that was intended to give the feeling of comfort… less like interrogation.  Robbie sat and immediately rose and walked to the mirror.  It was fascinating to watch him adjust his tie and then wink… to whomever was behind the glass.