Salvation in Death (In Death #27)(110)

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll get you more. I’ll get you plenty. The next on our lineup is Juanita Turner, the mother of one of the bodies Penny wanted, and the woman who poisoned Lino Martinez. She’s in A. I might as well tell you, I’ve got Mira coming to observe the interview, and believe she’ll conclude diminished capacity.”

“Today you’re a cop, lawyer, and shrink.” Sarcasm coated each word. “How do you do it?”

“You’re going to put her away, Reo, but if after the interview you want to put her away for first, I’ll send you on an all-expense paid vacation to Portafino.”

“I’ve always wanted to go there.”

Eve fueled up with a coffee, then turned to Peabody. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Take the lead.”

“What? What?” Peabody jogged after Eve. “Did you say I should take the lead?”

For an answer, Eve stepped into the interview room. She sat, said nothing.

“Ah, record on,” Peabody began and recited the salients. “Mrs. Turner, have you been read your rights?”

“Yes.”

“And do you understand those rights and obligations?”

“Yes, yes.”

“Mrs. Turner, are you a member of St. Cristóbal’s Catholic Church?”

“Yes.”

“And were you acquainted with Father Miguel Flores?”

“No.” Juanita lifted her head now, and her dark eyes smoldered. “Because Father Flores never came to St. Cristóbal’s. A liar and a murderer came with his face. He’s probably dead, this Father Flores. Probably murdered. What do you think about that? What are you doing about that?”

Peabody kept her voice clipped, cool—and whatever her thought might have been, they were boxed outside the room. “Do you know the identity of the man who posed as Father Flores?”

“Lino Martinez. A murderer.”

“How did you come to be aware of his identity?”

“I figured it out.” She shrugged, looked away.

First lie, Eve thought.

“How?” Eve demanded. “Just how did you figure it out?”

“Things he said, how he acted, certain looks. What does it matter?”

“You worked with him at the youth center for over five years,” Eve added. “Went to the church. How long had you known who he really was?”

“I knew what I knew.” She folded her arms, stared hard at the wall. But the gestures of defiance lost impact with the quick, light shudders that worked through her. “It doesn’t matter how long.”

“Mrs. Turner, isn’t it true you were told his identity?” Peabody drew Juanita’s attention back to her. “You didn’t figure it out. You were told.” Peabody’s voice softened, into that confide-in-me tone Eve considered one of her partner’s finest tools. “Has Penny Soto threatened you, Mrs. Turner?”

“Why would she?”

“To ensure your silence. To make sure you take the fall for Lino Martinez’s murder alone. You did kill Lino Martinez, didn’t you?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“Bullshit.” Eve stood so abruptly, her chair flew back. “You want to play, Juanita, let’s play. Penny Soto told you Martinez was conning you, conning everyone. Lino Martinez, the man responsible for your son’s death, was right under your nose, playing priest. You could see it then, you could see right through him then, once she told you. Once she told you all about how he’d planted that bomb that ripped your son to pieces.”

Eve slammed her hands on the table, leaned down close. The gesture and the words had Juanita jolting, had tears sheening over the defiance in her eyes.

“And she helped you plan it, every step of your vengeance. She walked you right through it, didn’t she?”

“Where were you?” Juanita demanded. “Where were you when he killed my baby? When my husband grieved so he took his life. Took his own life and will never see God, never see God or our boy again. This is what that bastard did. Where were you?”

“You had to exact payment.” Eve rapped a fist on the table. “You had to make him pay for Quinto. The police didn’t, so you had to.”

“He was my only child, our only child. I told him, I taught him never to look at skin—the color of skin is nothing. We’re all God’s children. He was a good boy. I told him, he had to work, that all of us must earn our way. So he took the work there, there where they killed him. Because I told him to.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks, streaming out of misery. “Do you think it matters what you say, what you do? I sent my boy to the place where they killed him. Do you think it matters if you take my life from me now, if you put me away for the rest of it? I can’t see God, just like my husband. There’s no salvation without redemption. I can’t ask for true forgiveness. I killed the one who killed my son. And I don’t repent. I hope he’s burning in hell.”

“Mrs. Turner. Mrs. Turner.” Peabody’s voice soothed, calmed. “You were Quinto’s mother. He was only sixteen. It must have been devastating, the loss. It must’ve been devastating all over again when Penny told you that the man you believed to be Father Flores was Lino Martinez.”