Born in Death (In Death #23)(100)
“Loose ends dangling.”
“That can be tied up later. Whatever you got from the booster and your own adrenaline is washed, Lieutenant. You’re pale as the moon, and your words are starting to slur.”
“Coffee.”
“Not a chance in hell.”
He must have been right because when she managed to focus, she was standing—barely—in the bedroom. “One hour horizontal,” she said as she took off her weapon harness.
“Four—which gives you enough time to put some fuel in your system in the morning and get downtown to grill your suspects.”
“Not just grill.” She sat to yank off her boots. “I’m gonna fry ’em. Aren’t you gonna carry me to bed?”
“You’re still dressed.”
“’S’ okay. I can sleep in my clothes.” She smiled sleepily, held up her arms to him.
He got her up, staggered a little as he carted her to the bed, then dumped both of them onto the duvet. “Best I can do.”
“Good enough.” She curled into him, he wrapped around her, and they both tumbled into sleep.
He’d been right about the four and the fuel, Eve decided. She was going to have a long and tricky day, and needed to charge up for it.
As expected, Bullock and the rest had called in a fleet of lawyers. Eve was letting them all stew while she and her team gave complete reports to Whitney and Reo.
“The Feds and Global are going to want to take over the fraud, the baby-for-profit op, and whatever else the foundation had its fingers into,” Reo told her.
“They can have it.”
“And a field day with it. The London law firm is also going to be on the hot seat. You’ve got yourself an international incident, Dallas.”
“I’ve got three DB’s. Those are mine. As for the abduction and held-against-will of Tandy Willowby, that’s a share with Lieutenant Smith in MPU.”
“How’s she doing? Willowby?”
“Good, I’m told. She was sleeping when I left the house.” She turned to Whitney. “I want to start with Cavendish on this, sir. He’s the weak sister.”
“Your call.”
Reo got to her feet. “Got them cold on the kidnapping, and the evidence is there for Global. The three homicides, that’s the sticker.”
“I’ll get them.”
Reo nodded. “Mind if I watch?”
Cavendish was in Interrogation, looking pale and sweaty and flanked by two sharp-looking suits. The one on the left got immediately to his feet. “My client was held overnight without bond, and kept waiting in this room nearly an hour. We intend to file complaints, and when you’ve finished this ridiculous charade, demand an internal investigation on you.”
“Charade?” Eve said to Peabody.
“It’s like that game where you can’t talk, but you have to use your hands and body language to get the other person to guess the word or phrase.”
“No kidding? That’s good, because while Mr. Cavendish is entitled to his representation, and may speak with same, I’m not obliged to speak to lawyers. Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and Peabody, Detective Delia, in formal interview with Cavendish, Walter, and his two representatives. I’ll just read off the charges.”
When she had, she sat, kicked out her legs. “You’ve already been read the Revised Miranda, Mr. Cavendish—”
“My client is a citizen of Great Britain—”
“God save the King. Do you understand your rights and obligations in this matter?”
“I understand. I have nothing to say.”
“Okay, I’ll do the talking. We’ll start with accessory to murder, three counts. That’s good for three consecutive life sentences in the good old U.S. of A. Now, the Brits may want you, and we may agree to deport you into their custody, which would make me sad. Still, they’d lock you up for the rest of your natural life there, too—and save the taxpayers money.”
“You have nothing to link my client to any murder, or any crime.”
“I have enough not only tolink you,” Eve said, speaking directly to Cavendish, “but to chain you head to foot and throw you overboard. Randall Sloan kept private records, Cavendish. Chase didn’t get them. I did. Your name’s on them.”
She smiled when a line of sweat beaded over his top lip. Yeah, the weak sister.
“You were aware of the operating practices of the Bullock Foundation, which included the sale of infant human beings for profit and fraudulent tax reporting to boost the profit on that operation. You were also aware that Chase intended to murder Natalie Copperfield and Bick Byson, who had discovered at least part of those practices. You knew he was going to do this to them.”
Eve shoved two crime scene photos across the table.
“My client has no knowledge of any of the circumstances of these crimes.”
“You may be bottom of the food chain, Walt, but you knew. Bullock and Chase came to your office to discuss it in private, didn’t they? You had a nice little lunch while you discussed how he’d kill two people.”
“This is absurd.” One of the lawyers got to his feet. “You have nothing but speculation. Groundless speculation. This interview—”
“I’ve got more, Walter. I’ve got your girlfriend in the next room.”
J.D. Robb's Books
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