Apprentice in Death (In Death #43)(88)

“My client can’t be held responsible for your allegations against his minor child,” the lawyer began.

“Did they neglect to explain the term conspiracy in your law school, Pratt? Your client—that’s you, Mackie—has confessed, on record, to conspiring to murder, to being an accessory to the murder of twenty-five people to date.”

“My client was hospitalized and in police custody during the incident at Madison Square, therefore—”

“Please, stop wasting time. Plotted and planned and on record. I don’t give a rat’s ass if he was in Argentina last night. He’s as guilty as she is. Just like he’s just as guilty if she attempts to complete the names on your client’s list. And the names on her own list.”

“She doesn’t have her own list. You’re lying. Just another lie.”

“Like you don’t know about it,” Peabody said in disgust. “You’re her father. You know what she’s planning. You started it.”

“There we disagree.” Eve shrugged at Peabody. “I don’t think he knew. Not about her hit list. Not that she had her own mission. Just like I don’t think he knew she confronted some of the names on his list, like Rothstein for instance. Threatened them on her own, flashed a stunner. That’s not good strategy, and he’s got enough training, even with the funk, not to make a boneheaded move like that.”

“You’re lying again. Just like you lied about her missing Rothstein.”

“Don’t have to this time. I’ve got her list right here.” Eve opened the file, but paused before taking out the document. “Oh, we know she travels on foot or by bus. We’ve got some bus drivers who remember her. The girl makes an impression.”

Eve took out the list, pushed it across the table. “She didn’t bother using initials. Full names for her, since she didn’t figure anyone would bother to check the little brother’s comp and find where she’d hidden it.”

“You put this together.” After barely a glance, Mackie shoved the hard copy aside. “This isn’t hers.”

“Oh, part of you, the part under the funk, knows it’s hers. It’s what she is. Part of you knew what she was, and needed it. Your eyes, your hands, and a mind and heart as black as midnight. Maybe seeing that in someone who came from you was another reason you hit the funk. It blurs the hard parts.”

“Just more lies. You want me to believe Will would hurt her own mother, her little brother? Try again.”

“I note you don’t say anything about the stepfather, the school employees, but we’ll slide there for now.” She took out the photos of Zach Stuben that Peabody had dug up.

“Cute kid. Me, I’m not big on kids, but yeah, he’s cute enough. And the puppy—he used to have a puppy, right? Looks like love there, the way he’s hugging that stupid dog, the way the stupid dog’s all cuddled in. I guess that’s why she broke its neck and tossed it out the window at the kid’s feet.”

“She never did that.”

“She absolutely did that—I bet you taught her how to break a neck, how to apply the pressure, how to work the angle. And she used it on a stupid little dog. Because she hates this kid right here, this cute, harmless kid. She hates him because he exists. Just as she’d have hated your son, if you’d had one. She’s all that gets to exist.”

“You don’t know her!”

“I do.” Eve slapped her palms on the table, stood up, leaned in. “And so do you. Under it, you know. She hurt him. He was afraid of her. Your ex told you, but you didn’t want to see it. Funk helps with that, helps you not see what you don’t want to see. But you knew, you always fucking knew.”

“My client is addicted to a substance that—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Mackie exploded.

“Mr. Mackie, let me help you. Remember what we discussed, and let me do my job. I need to consult with—”

“I said shut the fuck up! What good are you? You’re just like the rest of them, toeing the line, gaming the system. I don’t need you.”

“I represent you, Mr. Mackie. Let me do my job, and—”

“You represent you. That’s how it is. Now shut the fuck up and get out. I don’t need you. I don’t want you. I don’t need anyone.” He lurched up, yanking on the restraints bolted to the floor.

Pratt jerked sharply, and the resulting fall from his chair saved him from Mackie’s grasping hands.

“Sit down or be put down.” Eve straightened, slowly.

“You’re a liar. He’s in on it, too.”

“Sit down, or I’ll put you down.”

“Try it.”

As Eve started around the table, Pratt scrambled up. He stayed out of reach, but Eve gave him props for not running for the door.

“My client is in withdrawal. He needs—”

“I’m not your client! Get the fuck out.”

“If you want him gone, you need to fire him, on record.” Eve spoke coolly. “You have to waive your right to counsel, on record. Otherwise, he stays.”

“You’re fucking fired. I fucking waive my right to bullshit counsel. Come on, bitch, try me.”

“Love to.”

She easily dodged his restraint-hampered punch, took him down with a sweep of her feet. “Stay down,” she warned him. “You’re in no shape or position to take me on. I’m going to give you the chance to reconsider firing your court-appointed counsel. Take a minute, Mackie. Pull yourself together, and consider.”