Fatal Reckoning (Fatal #14)(96)
“Not now, but I’ll make your wishes known.”
Conklin didn’t seem too pleased with that response but apparently realized it was the best he was going to get.
Sam had to give Hill credit. He never lost his cool when he probably wanted to reach across the table and shake the truth out of Conklin. That was what she’d want to do, which was another reason it was probably better that Hill was handling this interrogation rather than her.
Hill projected a casual, disinterested attitude, but after having worked with him for some time, Sam knew that was only a facade. He was one of the sharpest law enforcement officers she’d ever encountered, and if she couldn’t do this interrogation herself, she was thankful it was in the hands of someone she respected and trusted to get the answers she needed so badly.
“If you have information pertaining to the shootings of Officer Coyne and Deputy Chief Holland, I’m listening.”
After a long pause, Conklin sighed, his shoulders slumping into the position of a man accepting that life as he’d known it was over. “The person you’ve been looking for all this time is Roy Gallagher.” Conklin glanced at Hill, apparently expecting a big reaction to the name, and seeming disappointed when he didn’t get one. “The councilman.”
“I’m aware of who he is.”
“I’m telling you he’s behind the shootings of Coyne and Holland.”
“We already suspected that.”
Conklin’s expression registered his shock. “How?”
“Never mind how. Keep talking.”
Conklin sighed again and propped his elbows on the table.
Sam watched him so intently her breathing began to sync with his.
“You know Gallagher graduated from the academy with us—me, Skip, Steven, Joe, Jake and Wallack, among others, but that group was tight. Steven and me, we were the closest to Roy. When he was leaving the department, he came to both of us with a business opportunity. He’d been approached by some ‘backers,’ as he called them, who were encouraging him to run for the council. They were interested in taking back some of the power, as they put it, that’d gone to what they considered outsiders—people who’d lived here a short time before running for the council. They wanted to get the natives back in charge. Because Roy asked us to, we met with them, heard what they had to say. Steven, he was interested. He and Alice wanted to have kids right away, and she wanted to stay home with them. There was no way he could swing that on a patrolman’s salary, so he signed on to help Roy get elected and earn some extra money.”
“And you didn’t?”
Conklin shook his head. “I was already having trouble with my drinking. My first marriage was falling apart, and all my time was spent either working or drinking. I had no interest in politics, and frankly, I didn’t think Roy would make for a very good councilman. He’d been a terrible cop.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He didn’t care, took shortcuts, looked the other way so he wouldn’t have to do the paperwork. I was actually relieved when he said he was quitting. I liked the guy as a friend but not as a coworker.”
Sam wanted to know how Conklin went from being offended by a lazy coworker to breaking the law. Was it something that’d happened gradually, or had it been all of a sudden?
Even though the interview was being recorded, Hill took notes. “So he ran for council, he won and while he served the city he has presided over a very successful business empire.”
Conklin nodded. “You should look at how he came to have the money for that business empire. His father was a bus driver, his mother a cook at the Georgetown cafeteria. His grandparents were all immigrants with blue-collar jobs.”
“Sounds to me like you know where he came by the money, so how about you save us all some time and fill in the blanks.”
Excellent, Sam thought. That was exactly what she would’ve said. Quit beating around the bush and spill it.
“Gambling.”
“What kind of gambling?”
“The illegal kind that happens off the grid where federal regulators and the IRS can’t get to it. The kind his father-in-law was into before the Feds caught him doing other stuff, but the gambling… That continued after Maurice Sands died. Gallagher picked up the reins and has kept it going all these years.”
Now we’re getting somewhere, Sam thought, her skin tingling as her heart beat so fast she could hear the echo.
“Gallagher and his business partners, Mick Santoro and Dermott Ryan, were running the gambling entity since before Gallagher left the force. It’s an all-cash business that yields a billion dollars a year.”
Sam stood up straighter at the words billion dollars. And Dermott Ryan. How do I know that name?
Conklin continued, “It’s my belief that while working for the campaign, Coyne figured out what they were up to. He was by the book, and my theory is that when he confronted Gallagher about it, Coyne got himself killed.”
“By Gallagher?”
Conklin shook his head. “No, it would’ve been Santoro or Ryan.”
“Why do you say that?”
“They’ve kept Gallagher clean to protect his council seat. Having him there has been good for business.”
“And how do you know all this?”
“I’ve been friends with Gallagher a long time. I’ve known about the gambling from the beginning.” Conklin paused, looked down at the table. “A couple of weeks before Skip was shot, I was at a party at Gallagher’s house when I overheard them talking about Skip digging into Coyne’s killing and how he was determined to solve that case before he retired. Gallagher told the others that if Skip picked up their scent in the Coyne case, something would have to be done.” Conklin glanced at Hill. “Two days before he was shot, Skip went to see Ryan, asked him a bunch of questions about Gallagher.”