Treachery in Death (In Death #32)(93)

“Sit down, Dallas. Tibble will be here any minute, and IAB will be right behind him. We’re going to stick there, you and I, not only in your proprietary role in the Keener homicide, but in your integral role in the Oberman investigation. I believe Tibble will agree. If not, we’ll convince him.”

“Yes, sir, we will. Commander ... contact Nadine Furst.”

He lifted his eyebrows, said nothing.

“She will agree to and proceed by stipulations of timing, off-the-record statements, of confidentiality. She won’t release anything until you give her the green.”

“You want me to use her to spin this off me?”

“Not precisely, sir, no. Nadine likes to get her teeth in red meat as much as any reporter. She’s just better at seeing the real story—not just the jazz that pulls ratings. That’s why, I think, she pulls them. She digs for the truth, not just the juice. I know we have our PR people, media liaisons, mouthpieces, but in my opinion, she’s worth ten of them.”

He nodded slowly, watching her now. “Go on.”

“Sir. Renee Oberman’s actions will hurt the department once they become public. More, they’ll hurt the public as cage doors will certainly open. I see the value in using whatever is at our disposal to minimize that damage. With truth. Corruption existed. When uncovered it was ruthlessly, systematically, and unhesitatingly cut out.”

“I’ll consider it.”

“Sir . . .”

“You’re still in the speak freely zone, Dallas.”

“Go on her show. You, the chief if he’ll agree. Me, Peabody. Especially Peabody. The situation she was in, the actions she took, who she is, will play well.” Eve pushed, hard, surprising herself how fiercely she wanted to convince him. “A good cop—a young female detective trapped in a deadly situation—who turned that and spearheaded the exposure of corruption, of murder and treachery.

“We’re the blue line, sir, and that will resonate on-screen. But Peabody is the face, the very human element. And she would symbolize who we are, contrast sharply against what Renee Oberman is.”

He rubbed his chin, and his lips curved a little above his fingers. “You can carve out an angle like that, an excellent angle, and believe the idea of your ass in the chair someday down the road is terrifying?” He waved off her response before she could make it. “I should have thought of it myself, should have thought it through exactly that way. I’ll contact Furst.”

Something inside her unknotted. “Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m wondering why I haven’t assigned you to Media and PR.”

“Because, sir, I hope I’ve done nothing to deserve that kind of punishment.”

Both he and Eve rose when Whitney’s admin announced Chief Tibble.

He was dark, long, and lean, and wore a suit well. A good look, Eve knew, for media conferences and screen time. But there was considerably more under the surface.

He studied Eve a moment, then addressed her directly. “This avalanche was precipitated by a dead junkie in a bathtub.”

“No, sir, this avalanche was precipitated by Renee Oberman’s corrupt and illegal use of her badge, her name, her rank, and this department.”

“Point well taken, and well expressed. But I wasn’t talking about the goddamn shit rolling down the goddamn hill, but what set off the roll.”

“That would be a dead junkie in a bathtub, sir—technically.”

“We’re going to use him, everything and everyone that came before and after him, to bury her in it. When we do, the department’s going to stand on top of that shit pile and claim victory. We’re going to work on that, Jack.”

“The lieutenant has just given me a solid suggestion on just that.”

“We’ll talk about it, after we’re done with IAB. We’ll talk about that, work on that, and we will goddamn deal with that because she’s not going to take any part of this department down with her. You take her down,” he said to Eve in a tone that told her he’d prefer to do it himself. With his bare hands.

“You take her down hard. Hard enough she can’t get up again. I don’t want her limping away from this, turning it so the department takes more hits.”

“That’s my intention, Chief Tibble.”

“Make it your mission in life,” he snapped, then turned to Whitney. “We’ll handle the fallout. Goddamn it, Jack, how the hell does a woman like this get rank, get power, get a free f**king pass?”

Before Whitney could speak, Tibble waved a hand in the air, spun away. He stalked to the window, stood staring out, his hands linked behind his back.

“I should know. I’ve had her in my office. I’ve entertained her along with her parents in my own home. My own home,” he said more quietly. “I’ve probably given her a few of those free passes myself. Goddamn it. Lieutenant Dallas, did Renee Oberman order the assassination of police officers?”

“I believe she did, sir.”

He whirled around, led with absolute fury. “I don’t want your beliefs. You prove it. You prove it so the PA can take it to a jury without a reasonable doubt. Your beliefs mean nothing in a court of law, and without—”

“Chief Tibble.” Whitney moved until he stood between Eve and the chief. “Renee Oberman is under my command, and her actions have taken place under my watch.”