Inside the studio, the temperature dropped ten degrees. Eve stalked directly toward a glass partition facing the set and rapped hard enough to have the news director go white with worry. He held a desperate finger to his lips. Eve held up her badge.
With obvious reluctance, he clicked open the door and gestured them in. “We’re live,” he snapped and turned back to his view of the set. “Camera Three on Nadine. Back image of Louise. Mark.”
The robotics on set obeyed smoothly. Eve watched the small suspended camera shift. On the control monitor, Louise Kirski smiled cheerily.
“Slow down, Nadine. Don’t rush it. C. J., ready in ten.”
“Go to commercial,” Eve told him.
“We’re running without ads on this broadcast.”
“Go to commercial,” she repeated, “or you’re going to go to black.”
He screwed up his forehead, puffed out his chest. “Now listen here—”
“You listen.” She poked him none too gently in that expanded chest. “You’ve got my eyewitness out there. You do what you’re told, or your competitors are going to have ratings through the roof with the story I’m going to give them on how Channel 75 interfered with a police investigation on the murder of one of its own people.” She lifted a brow while he considered. “And maybe I’m going to start to think you look like a suspect. He strike you as the cold-blooded killer type, Feeney?”
“I was just thinking that. Maybe we need to take him in, have a nice long chat. After a strip search
.”
“Just hold on. Hold on.” He wiped a hand across his mouth. What could a quick ninety-second commercial break hurt? “Go to Zippy spot in ten. C. J., wind it up. Cue music. Camera One pan back. Mark.”
He let out a long breath. “I’m calling legal on this.”
“You do that.” Eve stepped out of the booth and stalked to the long black console Morse and Nadine shared.
“We’ve got a right to—”
“I’m going to tell you all about your rights,” Eve interrupted Morse. “You’ve got a right to call your lawyer and have him meet you at Cop Central.”
He went dead white. “You’re arresting me. Jesus Christ, are you nuts?”
“You’re a witness, asshole. And you’re not going to make any further statements until you’ve made one to me. Officially.” She flicked a scathing gaze in Nadine’s direction. “You’ll just have to muddle through the rest on your own.”
“I want to go with you.” On shaky legs, Nadine rose. To dispense with the frantic shouts from the control booth, she tugged her earpiece free and tossed it down. “I was probably the last person to speak to her.”
“Fine. We’ll talk about that.” Eve led them out, pausing only to grin nastily toward control. “You could fill in with some old reruns of NYPD Blue. It’s a classic.”
“Well, well, C. J.” However miserable she was, Eve could appreciate the moment. “I’ve finally got you where I want you. Comfy?”
He looked a little green around the gills, but managed to sneer as he took a long scan of the interview room. “You guys could use a decorator.”
“We’re trying to work that into the budget.” She settled back at the single table in the room. “Record,” she requested. “June 1—Jeez, where did May go?—Subject C. J. Morse, position Interview Room C, Interview conducted by Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, re Homicide, victim Louise Kirsky. Time oh oh forty-five. Mr. Morse, you’ve been advised of your rights. Do you want your attorney present during this interview?”
He reached for his glass of water and took a sip. “Am I being charged with anything?”
“Not at this time.”
“Then get on with it.”
“Take me back, C. J. Tell me exactly what happened.”
“Fine.” He drank again, as if his throat was parched. “I was coming into the station. I had the coanchor on the midnight report.”
“What time did you arrive?”
“About quarter after eleven. I went to the east side entrance, most of us use that end because it’s more direct to the newsroom. It was raining, so I made a quick dash from the car. I saw something at the base of the steps. I couldn’t tell what it was, at first.”