A Conspiracy of Bones (Temperance Brennan #19)(97)
If Unger was surprised, he hid it well. “Who?”
Slidell leaned forward, and his voice dropped lower. “I’ve dealt with a lot of con artists, Floy. Most of ’em a whole lot smarter than you. They waste my time. I don’t like people wasting my time.”
“I—”
“You’ve got exactly one minute to give it to me straight. Then I’m going to send you back to lockup and think long and slow on what charges I’ll use to book you.”
The cuffs made a soft clunk as they reconnected with the table. Unger stared down at them. Or his hands. Through the glass, I studied the top of his oily scalp, wondering if maybe Yuriev had scammed me.
Slidell waited as seconds of silence ticked by. Finally, he turned and reached for the phone.
“Send someone to collect the asshole in room three.”
“No. Wait!” Unger’s palms rose, pointed at Slidell in surrender.
Slidell stood. “I’m done pissing away time on you, Floy.”
“OK. I work for Nick Body.”
“I’m listening.”
“Mr. Body is obsessive about his privacy. Anything I say here must be kept in strict confidence.”
“Uh-huh.”
Slidell again dialed and spoke into the phone. “Hold off on that pickup.” Then he pulled out his chair and sat back down.
“Before I talk, can I get some sort of deal? Immunity or something?”
“Immunity for what?”
“I’m just saying.”
“Here’s your deal. You level with me, I let you walk out of here.” A somewhat hollow threat. Slidell had to charge Unger within forty-eight hours or let him go. I was surprised the dope didn’t know this.
Unger raised his arms. “Can I get these off?”
“No.” Slidell went right for the heart. “Do you help Body snatch kids to drive business to his site?”
“What? That’s insane!” Genuinely shocked or an Oscar-level delivery.
“Did his brother?”
“No.”
“Do you know Felix Vodyanov?”
“Yes. No.” The hands dropped. “I mean, I met him a few—”
“Did he?” Slidell began a shotgun barrage meant to keep Unger off balance.
“Did he what?”
“Kidnap kids.”
“No.”
“Who does?”
“I have no idea.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are they grabbing kids?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know why they’re grabbing them?”
“I don’t know that they are!”
“Does Body live at an abandoned Atlas missile silo in Cleveland County?”
This time, Unger couldn’t hide his surprise. “He has an improvised apartment there. Stays in it off and on. The place creeps me out.”
“Why?”
“It’s a million miles underground. You have to go down—”
“Why does he stay there?”
“His brother has some disease. Body’s afraid he might have it, too.”
“Does he?”
“I’ll lose my job if any of this gets out.” No longer smug. Now worried as hell.
“Does he?” Dagger-sharp.
“I don’t know.”
“Is that why he hides from the public?”
Unger shrugged.
“Why do you go there?”
“When Body’s in bunker mode, he records underground. Occasionally, he has issues.”
“Have you ever spotted kids on the property?”
“Once.”
“Girl or boy?”
“Girl.”
“Describe her.”
“I don’t know. She was on the grounds. I didn’t get close enough to really see her.”
“Toddler? Teenager?”
“Middle size. Maybe seven, eight. I’m not good with kids.”
I felt my fingers curl into fists.
Slidell continued hammering. “What exactly do you do for Body?”
“Organize his podcasts.”
“That it?”
“Help with IT. A few business affairs.”
“What the shit does that mean?”
“I assist with some investments.”
“Sounds like giving a drunk the keys to the bar.”
“It’s all legal.”
“Talk about DeepHaven Ventures.”
Unger stiffened. A beat, then, “My being here has nothing to do with scamming seniors, does it?”
“I’m asking the questions.”
Unger sat mute, weighing his options.
Slidell looked at him a long moment, then pushed back his chair.
Unger decided on the old tried-and-true. Save your own ass. “DeepHaven Ventures, LLC, is a holding company. Its structure is complicated.”
Slidell picked up and poised the pen over the pad.
Unger paused a moment to collect his thoughts. “Body and a fellow investor—”
“Yates Timmer.”
Tight nod. No longer astonished at anything. “Body and Timmer have invested in the construction of underground condo complexes.”