“I understand. I have nothing to say.”
“Okay, I’ll do the talking. We’ll start with accessory to murder, three counts. That’s good for three consecutive life sentences in the good old U.S. of A. Now, the Brits may want you, and we may agree to deport you into their custody, which would make me sad. Still, they’d lock you up for the rest of your natural life there, too—and save the taxpayers money.”
“You have nothing to link my client to any murder, or any crime.”
“I have enough not only to link you,” Eve said, speaking directly to Cavendish, “but to chain you head to foot and throw you overboard. Randall Sloan kept private records, Cavendish. Chase didn’t get them. I did. Your name’s on them.”
She smiled when a line of sweat beaded over his top lip. Yeah, the weak sister.
“You were aware of the operating practices of the Bullock Foundation, which included the sale of infant human beings for profit and fraudulent tax reporting to boost the profit on that operation. You were also aware that Chase intended to murder Natalie Copperfield and Bick Byson, who had discovered at least part of those practices. You knew he was going to do this to them.”
Eve shoved two crime scene photos across the table.
“My client has no knowledge of any of the circumstances of these crimes.”
“You may be bottom of the food chain, Walt, but you knew. Bullock and Chase came to your office to discuss it in private, didn’t they? You had a nice little lunch while you discussed how he’d kill two people.”
“This is absurd.” One of the lawyers got to his feet. “You have nothing but speculation. Groundless speculation. This interview—”
“I’ve got more, Walter. I’ve got your girlfriend in the next room.”
Eve grinned when his eyes darted toward the door. “Yeah, that’s right, and I’d make book she’ll push this whole thing into your lap. She worked for you, did what she was told, didn’t know. She can play that, and you’ll go down for it. Your kind always does. You’ve got SAP tattooed on your forehead. I don’t like her, so I’m talking to you first. I’m offering you the deal I’m going to offer her if you don’t make me happy.”
“No deal,” the suit snapped.
“I bet you work for Stuben, Robbins, Cavendish, and Mull.” Eve spoke to the lawyer for the first time. “They’re in a big pile of crap, too. Lot of smart lawyers there, right, Walter—smart lawyers who represent Bullock and Chase. I imagine they’ve got you all picked out as fall guy. Sent you over here, gave you busy work, show you no real respect. Now the heat’s on, and who do you think’s going to burn?”
“I was home in bed with my wife when these murders occurred.” Cavendish tugged on his tie. “I have nothing to do with this.”
“You don’t want to lie to me. You really don’t want to piss me off when I’m the only one here looking out for you. Chase killed Randall Sloan, set him up, took him out. I wonder what he’d do to you. Maybe I should put the two of you in a box together and find out.”
“Threats won’t be tolerated,” one of the lawyers snapped.
“Not a threat, just speculation. Here’s how it happened, how it’s documented in Randall Sloan’s private records. Copperfield came across something that didn’t quite add up for her, and she—being a good girl—went to Randall Sloan for advice. She knew him, the father of her friend, the son of the head of the firm—she trusted him. Maybe he tried to put out the fire himself, but she’s asking the wrong questions. He contacts Bullock, she contacts you. You’re in it now. She sets her son on Copperfield when bribery doesn’t work. You knew just what they did—that makes you an accessory.”
“More speculation,” the lawyer said. “You have nothing concrete against my client, or Ms. Bullock and her son.”
“Who do you believe, Walter? The suit from Stuben, or the cop who’s got you by the short hairs? It’s over for you, and you know it. Your life, your career, the plush office, the expense account. But you can choose how you want to spend what you’ve got left. Three counts, accessory to murder or—if you cooperate now—three counts obstruction of justice. You’ll do time in a cage, but you’ll be eligible for p
arole. You’ll end your life on the outside, instead of in. One-time offer, and you’ve got thirty seconds.”
Eve leaned in close until he had little choice but to meet her eyes. “You know she’ll take it when I go next door. She’ll throw you to the wolves without a second’s thought. Tick-tock, Walter. Twenty seconds left.”
“I want it in writing.”
“Cavendish—”
“Shut up!” he rounded on the lawyer. “It’s not your life on the line, is it? I’m not taking the fall for this. In writing,” he repeated. “And I’ll tell you everything I know.”
“That was easy,” Peabody commented after they’d stepped out.
“Didn’t even get me warmed up.” Eve rolled her shoulders. “Spineless bastard. He’ll do a solid dime on the obstruction.”
“And there’s the fraud. You didn’t mention that to him in the offer.”
Eve grinned. “Oops. Well, it’s not in my authority to offer a deal on international tax fraud or any international crime. Gee, I guess he’s going to do considerably more time than the dime.”
“Who do you want next?”