Leverage in Death: An Eve Dallas Novel (In Death #47)(17)

“Yeah, thanks. See you when you get here.”

She clicked off as she approached Whitney’s outer office and admin.

“Go right in, Lieutenant,” the admin told her. “He’s expecting you.”

She stepped in.

Whitney stood at his wall of windows, his hands behind his back in parade rest as he studied his view of New York. He had broad shoulders, and they carried the weight of command well. His close-cropped hair had gray shot through the black.

“Before you report,” he began without turning, “I’ll tell you my wife and Derrick Pearson’s have been friends more than twenty years.”

“I’m very sorry, Commander, for her loss, and yours.”

“Thank you. Anna and Rozilyn Pearson are and have been close. While I consider her and considered Derrick friends, Anna and Roz are more like sisters. This is a very difficult day.”

He turned then, his wide, dark face solemn. “I want to add that when I informed Anna you’d taken charge of the investigation she expressed relief, and told me she’d comfort Rozilyn by telling her we have the best seeking answers and justice for Derrick.”

Rather than going to sit at his desk, he stood where he was, the towers and spires of Manhattan rising into the pale blue March sky at his back. “What answers do you have at this time?”

“You’re aware, sir, of the home invasion on the Rogan/Greenspan residence?”

“I have the report from the first-on-scene.”

“Two men—as both the wife and daughter identify the assailants as men—entered the residence in the early hours of Saturday morning. Detective Callendar is, at this time, analyzing, but reported on scene that the security on the home had been compromised gradually, layer by layer, over several attempts since December. Also in December, when the negotiations for the merger of Quantum and Econo began to solidify, Rogan’s domestic, and the only nonfamily member to have the security code, had her wallet and ’link lifted from her handbag. She reported same.”

“Ah,” was all he said.

“Further in December, an assistant in Rogan’s department returned home to find her apartment broken into. Her comp—with work data on it—was among the things taken.”

Whitney nodded. “It’s my understanding Rogan was marketing. He wasn’t finance or legal, or someone who would have been intimately connected with the terms of the merger or in its negotiations.”

“No, sir. But he and his team had worked on the marketing campaign for the merger, and he was to present that at the meeting this morning. Commander, they tortured him and his wife, his eight-year-old daughter for more than two full days. They beat his wife in front of him, let him know they could and would rape and kill her—and his daughter. They had cameras in the basement room where they moved and held the wife, and another in the daughter’s room where she was restrained to the bed.”

“I understand the duress, but Rogan walked into that conference room alone, and twelve people are dead.”

“I don’t know if it’s altogether true he was alone, sir. Some of the statements we’ve taken indicate he seemed to be speaking to someone, and they forced the daughter to call for her father into a ’link, to specifically cry out for him to help her.”

“Recorded it,” Whitney noted. “Most likely to play that through an earbud.”

“Yes, sir. They may have put a recorder on him as well.”

“To threaten him if he hesitated or attempted to contact the police.”

“That’s my belief, Commander. Sir, I’m not saying he had no choice, but that he believed he had no choice. He pulled the trigger, there’s no question of that. But he pulled it, the evidence at this point shows, to save his wife and daughter.”

Whitney expelled a breath. “I didn’t know Rogan, but Derrick mentioned him more than once. I know Derrick thought highly of him. Fondly of him and his family.”

“He had plans for a celebration with his team after the meeting, Commander. He’d arranged for refreshments with a caterer, was putting through for bonuses for two assistants. He noted down to stop on the way home Monday for flowers for both his wife and daughter as a thank-you for understanding how much time he’d put into the work. He didn’t leave Quantum Friday evening with plans to bomb the meeting. There is no evidence we’ve found to show he had any connection to explosives, or the knowledge to build or acquire the vest.”

Whitney nodded. “What do we know about the two men?”

“The sweepers were covering the house when I left it. Frankly, sir, I don’t expect them to find much of anything we can use. These men were careful. They’d planned this for months. But I believe at least one of them is military or police, active or former. I lean military, and when Salazar and her team examine the bomb fragments, I believe they’ll show some experience with explosives.”

She detailed the rest—the interviews, the angles, the upcoming briefing, and her working theory.

“I’ve asked Roarke to consult,” she added, “for the business angle, the ins and outs of a merger on this scale. And the ups and downs of it. Straight terrorism, Commander, there’d be a statement by now. Some group would take credit. A vendetta against one or more of the individuals in the meeting? It’s too broad and complicated for that.”