Promises in Death (41 page)

With her shorter legs and snappy heels, Reo hustled to keep up with Eve’s long, booted strides. “Which is?”

“Peabody’s going to flip Zeban on Rouche. I’m flipping Rouche on Ricker, which should include Sandy and possibly Grady. Then I’m going to get a confession out of Grady for Coltraine and Sandy, and flip her on her father.”

“Is that all?”

“They’re all connected. It’s going to fall like a house of dominoes.”

“I think that’s house of cards, maybe rows of dominoes.”

“Whichever, it’s coming down.” She paused by Vending, pulled out credits. “Get me a tube of Pepsi. I don’t want to interact with the damn machine. I’m on a roll here, and I’m not jinxing it.”

“You’ve got some strange habits, Dallas.”

Eve studied Reo’s high, elegant shoes while the APA ordered up the Pepsi. “I’m not the one wearing stilts. This show’s going to require a lot of hiking from one room to another. Your feet are going to cry like babies before it’s done.”

Eve drank, explained the setup. “I want Morris to observe—anything he wants to observe. Mira wants to observe when I interview Grady.”

“I can take care of that. If your men find anything in the bank box, and I’m betting they will, you won’t need all the bells and whistles.”

“It’s not enough. Sure, that ring’s going to be in there and probably more to take Grady down, and that’s enough for the arrest. But it’s not enough payback, not on my scale. I promised Morris justice for Coltraine.” And, Eve supposed, she’d promised the same to a dead cop. “I’m going to get him every ounce of it.”

“If you pull this off, you’ll have made my job very easy.”

“I’m counting on you to do it.”

“Yo.” A very hollow-eyed Callendar bounced up. “Swig of that?” she said and snatched the tube out of Eve’s hand. Glugged some down. “Thanks.”

“Keep it.”

“Double thanks. Sisto hooked with the Peamiester. I’ve got your asshole in interview A as ordered.” She glugged down more Pepsi. “This shot ought to get me through observation while you fry his ass.”

“You’re not in observation. You’re taking him with me.”

“In interview?” Callendar’s tired eyes popped wide. “Hot shit, this is uptown and over the bridge.”

“You earned it.”

“I’ll get started on my end,” Reo said. “Good luck.”

“How’d you swing with this guy?”

“Kept it low and chill,” Callendar began. “I’m just the girl.” She fluttered her exhausted eyes. “He’s interested in my tits, but they all are. Who could blame?”

“Yes, they’re exceptional. Use them if it works.”

“He hasn’t said the L word yet, but he’s thinking about it. I can tell.”

“He can lawyer. It won’t matter. If he does, he won’t get the deal. I’m going to be mean. You can be shocked. Let’s go.”

She stepped in. “Record on,” she said briskly, barely glancing at the big, bulky man huddled at the table. She read off the salients—pointing a finger at him to shut him up.

Wide face, she noted, short, bristly hair. Fear in his eyes.

She sat. “Officer Rouche, welcome to Earth.” And smiled. “You have the right to remain silent,” she began, keeping her eyes hard on his until she’d completed the recitation. “Do you understand your rights and obligations in this matter?”

“Yeah, I understand. I
don’t
understand why the hell I need rights and obligations. I don’t understand why the hell I got dragged off my job and down here like some criminal.”

Eve leaned forward. “Oh yes, you do. And when you go back up, it won’t be to the job. It’ll be to a cage. Maybe real close to your good pal, Max Ricker.”

“You gotta be crazy. I want a—”

“Say lawyer and we’re done.” She pointed her index finger at him, cocked her thumb. “I don’t give you a shot, just wrap you up and dust off my hands while you’re charged, tried, and convicted of conspiracy to murder a police officer.”

“Con—” He literally choked while his face went raw-beet red. “I never—what the hell? I never killed anybody.”

“Hence the word ‘conspiracy.’ You don’t have to do the kill to go down just as hard, just as long. That’s life, Rouche. But, hey, not so bad since you already live on Omega. I mean, it’s not like you were planning to retire and relocate to, say, the south of France.”

She grinned when he lost every ounce of angry color.

“Here you go, Rouche.” Callendar moved to him, offered a cup of water. “You really look like you need this. Jeez, cop murder. You’re so burnt. I mean, wow. And putting a former guard in up there, with the major badasses he used to dick around? Ouch. Majorly sucks to be you.”

“Your pal Zeban’s in another room just like this right now,” Eve added. “And he’s going to roll over so fast he’ll look like a circus dog. I get a knock on that door before you do your trick of the day, and I don’t need you.”

Callendar let out a whistle. “Boy howdy, I’d jump, roll, and stand up and beg.”

“I don’t know what she’s talking about.” He spoke directly to Callendar now as little beads of sweat formed on his upper lip. “Hand to God, I never killed anybody. I don’t know anything about killing a cop. Why would I do that?”

“I hear you.” Callendar gave his arm a sympathetic pat. “But—and I’m sort of sorry to say it, under the circumstances—you were chummy with Max Ricker. I found the data myself. Feel kinda responsible for what’s going down now. But, you know, I just did my job. The doctored logs, the toss-away ’link in your quarters. The text message. Plus . . . oh south of France!” Callendar looked at Eve as if she’d just understood. “The transmissions with the ex-wife!”

“Which puts her ass in the same sling. She’s being picked up right now, and that’s conspiracy to murder on her, in addition to the tax fraud, money laundering, bribery, and the host of others.”

“Luanne didn’t have anything to do with it. She just did like I said. What the hell
is
this?”

“Max Ricker ordered the assassination of a police officer, one Detective Amaryllis Coltraine, through the ’link you provided him. You took payment from him. Multiple payments, which we’ve now documented. You arranged for the visitor’s log to be altered, and for the transmissions sent and received by Ricker to be eliminated from record. You handed him the fucking weapon that took Coltraine’s life.

“Look at me, at
me
!” she snapped when he turned desperately to Callendar. “I knew Coltraine. Believe me when I tell you I have a personal stake in this, that I won’t give a goddamn if you and your greedy ex spend the rest of your useless lives in a cage. In fact, I’ll have a small celebration over that fact daily. Do you believe me?”

“Yes.”

Callendar made sure her gulp was audible. “Wow. Me, too.”

“Here’s the deal. Onetime offer, and I hope you’re too stupid to take it. The conspiracy charges will be dropped on you, and on your wife, if you confess to the charges of bribery and collusion, to altering records. You’ll do ten to fifteen, on-planet, provided you cooperate and tell us everything you know regarding Ricker’s communications.”

“Ten to fifteen on-planet’s cake compared to life without parole on Omega.” Callendar gave Rouche another little pat on the arm. “If I were you, I’d sing like a bird on a spring morning. What do you think?”

Rouche wiped his sweaty lip with the back of his hand. He cleared his throat. And he sang.

When it was done, Callendar stood outside interview with Eve. “That rocked. Seriously. He just popped open and poured it out like . . . something that pops and has stuff in it. I’m really tired.”

“Go home, get some sleep. You did solid work here.”

“I am so all over that. Hey, Peabody. I helped Dallas cook the turkey. See ya.”

“She looks beat, so did Sisto. But we cooked our own turkey.”

“We’ll compare notes.” She nodded to Reo as Reo came out of observation. “Walk and talk. We need . . . Morris.”

“He’s an idiot. A greedy idiot. And that greed and stupidity helped kill her.”

“I know ten to fifteen may not seem like enough, it may not seem like—”

“No.” He interrupted, shook his head. “It’s enough. For him.”

“You can go with Reo. The two of you and Mira can watch the next phase. We’ve got a room set up for you.” She pulled out her communicator when it signaled, noted it was Baxter. “You go on ahead. We’re nearly ready to start.”

She waited until Morris was out of hearing before she answered. “Tell me.”

“A whole shitload of cash money, credit cards and IDs in fake names, more passcodes, which I’m reading as bank accounts. Unregistered ’link and PPC, not yet activated. And the money shot, Dallas: Coltraine’s ring.”

“Bag it, log it, bring it. You earned your doughnuts today, Baxter.”

“Fry her ass, Dallas.”

“You can depend on it.”

She clicked off Baxter to tag Feeney. “Did she bite?”

“Not a nibble on the ’links.”

“How about her unit?”

“Through the passcode and fail-safe—she has some skills, but I’ve got more. I’m just starting on the data.”

“Plan B, then. Roarke?”

“Ask him yourself. Hey, hotshot, your wife wants you.”

Eve winced at “your wife,” then shrugged it off as Roarke came on. “Hello, darling.”

“Don’t
do
that. I’m clocking time. Did you hook it up?”

“Ready when you are. And let me just say this is a brilliant idea on so many levels. I’m pleased to have a hand in it.”

“Thought you would be. I’ll beep you twice when I’m ready.”

“I like ‘darling,’ ” Peabody commented. “It’s old-fashioned and romantic. Especially with the accent.”

“Peabody.”

“Just thinking out loud. So can we fry her now?”

“Right now.”

When she reached the conference room, she stopped to give the uniforms new orders. “She won’t get past me, but on the off chance she does, take her down.”

She walked into the conference room. Grady sat at the conference table, drinking coffee, studying the screen. Looking, Eve thought, very pleased with herself.

“I was just about to hunt for you. I think I might have something.”

“Funny, I have something, too. You helped me get to it.”

“Yeah?” Genuine pleasure lit Cleo’s face. “Can I be there when you arrest the fucker?”

“Front and center. Do you think it comes down in the blood?” Eve asked conversationally. “You know, bad blood begets bad blood? I think that’s a cop-out myself. You’re in the job long enough, you see it’s not that simple. You see people who come from shit and crawl out of it to make a decent life. Others who come from decent and crawl into the shit. Because they like it. Then again, Ricker’s blood’s partially foul.”

“Alex Ricker doesn’t have his father’s brains. He’s just been coattailing. No offense, but somebody was going to nail him sooner or later.”

“Maybe. His problem was getting stuck on the woman. Not enough to make him change his ways, but enough to mess him up. Guy’s got a soft streak in there, sentimental, I guess. Men.” She shook her head. “They think they’re stronger, tougher than women. We know better. The coldest killers I’ve known have been female.

“But back to blood. I’m curious. Were you a cold, murderous bitch before you knew you had Ricker’s blood, or did you turn into one after? Don’t answer yet,” Eve continued as Grady rose slowly. “Let’s deal with the formalities. Cleo Grady, you’re under arrest for the murder of Amaryllis Coltraine, the murder of Rod Sandy. Other charges include—”

Even as Cleo reached for her weapon, Eve reached for hers. They drew together.

“I’d love to do it,” Eve said. “I’d feel joy in my heart watching you drop. But maybe you’ll drop me. Maybe. Then my partner, who’s got her weapon at your back will drop you. You’re not walking out of this room, Grady. Lower your weapon, or you’ll get a taste of what you gave Coltraine.”

“Mine’s on full. You go down, you won’t get up.”

“Maybe. My partner’s still going to drop you. Put down your weapon.”

“The fuck I will. You move away from—”

Eve fired. Her weapon was on its lowest setting and did no more than jolt Cleo, sent her stumbling back as her own weapon clattered to the floor. “That felt good. Small of me, but damn, that felt good. Got her weapon secured, Peabody?”

“Yes, sir, I do. And it felt good over here, too.”

“Hands behind your back, Cleo.” Eve secured her own weapon, took out her restraints. “Oh, and please make a try for the door,” she invited, “so I have an excuse to kick your ass.”

“Easy to say when you and your partner have weapons on me.”

“Yeah, it is.” Eve grinned. “Want me to say it again?”

“You can’t make this stick. None of it’s going to stick.”

“Bet?” She shoved Cleo into the chair, looped the restraints through the back rungs and chained her to it as she completed the Revised Miranda.

No blood on my hands, Eve thought. “I guess Mira was right,” she muttered, then shook her head at Peabody’s questioning look. “Nothing. I know you’re Max Ricker’s daughter,” she said to Cleo. “I know you recruited Rod Sandy to pass data re Alex Ricker to Max Ricker. I know you’ve been in communication with your father since his incarceration on Omega, and that you communicated with him the night of Coltraine’s murder.”

“You can get me a slap on the wrist for that, you can cost me my job. But you can’t pin murder on me.”

“Oh, I will. You went looking for him, didn’t you? Went looking for Daddy.”

“What if I did? No crime.”

“Hoping for his love and affection. Maybe a puppy. Pathetic.”

Insult had Cleo yanking against the restraints. “I know about you, how you were raised by the State. You don’t even know where you came from. That’s pathetic.”

“I know where I landed.” Eve brought a chair around, straddled it. “Max Ricker sent you to college, paid your freight.”

“So what? No crime.”

“But it wasn’t free. No free lunch from Max. Not for anyone. But then, it had to be a pleasure for you to find a way to stick it to your brother.”