The Chaos Kind (John Rain #11)(5)

Hobbs nodded. Everyone knew about Jeffrey Epstein. Which was of course part of Hobbs’s concern about Schrader. “Something like that.”

“That would have been a big case for you, if you could have made it stick. A celebrity prosecution like that.”

“You want to know why I buried it?”

Devereaux offered a tight smile at the directness of the question. “Sure.”

“Schrader is one of the world’s great networkers. A lot of powerful friends he’s been collecting for decades. Politicians. Corporate titans. Media barons. Friends of ours.”

Devereaux nodded in appreciation of the gravity of what he had just heard. The thing was, what he thought he understood wasn’t the half of it.

“What, then?” Devereaux said. “You were protecting the innocent from embarrassment? Guilt by association?”

“I was protecting them from videos.”

Devereaux’s expression was neutral, but Hobbs detected the effort behind it. I’ve got you, you son of a bitch, he thought.

But Devereaux said nothing, so Hobbs continued. “Schrader had hidden cameras installed in every bedroom of his six homes, to which he was always happy to fly his rich and powerful friends on his private jet.”

“That’s appalling.”

Hobbs wasn’t sure whether Devereaux was referring to the cameras, to the behavior they recorded, or to the stupidity of anyone who would allow himself to be captured in such compromising circumstances. Probably there was self-reproach in the mix, as well.

“But how did you know . . . ,” Devereaux started to say, then caught himself.

Hobbs offered a sympathetic smile. “It’s okay, Pierce. This is explosive stuff. If you want to pretend it doesn’t matter to you, it’s fine, but I’ll know you’re full of shit.”

Devereaux gave him a touché laugh. “Fair enough. You saw these videos?”

“Highlights. Yes.”

A beat. Hobbs thought he might ask directly, but Devereaux was too canny, and said only “How bad?”

Hobbs couldn’t help admiring the performance. It was a close imitation of someone who was concerned about the tapes only in general. Not specifically that he himself was in them.

“Professional quality. Every kind of depravity. With girls as young as thirteen.”

Devereaux looked at him and for a moment said nothing. Not in a power of silence way—the man was simply speechless. Then he shook his head as though to clear it. “These videos . . . they’re extant?”

“Very much so. Including one of a man who, when the video was made, had been only a lowly senator. But who at the time of the indictment happened to be president of the United States.”





chapter

four





LIVIA


As was often the case, things seemingly going smoothly made Livia uneasy. “What about Meekler?” she said.

“Oh, he was definitely trying to scare me off. But no way he was going to openly order me to not indict.”

“Wait, let me guess: ‘Alondra, you’ve got such a bright future with the department . . . I just want to make sure you’re not getting out over your ski tips on this . . .’”

Diaz laughed. “You know our US Attorney, right down to the clichés. It was all, ‘Schrader is rich, he’ll have an army of thousand-dollar-an-hour lawyers . . . One tiny mistake and they’ll shred you.’ But then we reviewed my witness list, the trafficking and racketeering elements . . . And when he saw how extensive the case is, he backed off. Those girls you interviewed—their testimony is going to be devastating.”

“Did he say he wants to meet with them?”

“Of course.”

“Can you prevent him?”

“No. But I’ve prepped them. They know what he’s going to say: ‘We’re all so grateful to you . . . Schrader is going to sic private investigators on you and your family, he’s going to drag your name through the mud . . . Most girls in your position are afraid to testify, but you’re so brave!’ Like he’s their friend and just trying to warn them.”

Livia knew the Meeklers of the system well. And hated them. “When in fact he’s trying to warn them off.”

“Yeah. Most of the girls I contacted were already too scared to come forward. The ones who are cooperating are terrified, too. Meekler knows he might be able to scare them into withdrawing their testimony. Cut the legs out from under my case.”

“Any chance it’ll work?”

There was a beat while Diaz considered—or struggled with something. Then she said, “I told them what they’re going to hear from Meekler . . . It’s all true. It really will happen. And that men like Schrader—and Meekler—count on the threat of the secondary assault, the publicity assault, to intimidate us into silence.”

Of course, us might have referred simply to women. But Livia sensed Diaz was using the plural pronoun to signal something more particular than just gender.

“They’ll testify,” she said. “For you.”

“And for you,” Diaz said. “I know you could have gone with King County, but I’m glad you brought it to me. The interstate aspects are going to be the most damning, and we needed the Bureau’s resources.”