It just annoyed the crap out of her. Knowing he spoke the truth didn’t cut through the annoyance or the crap. “The more time I spend funneling, the less time I spend actually finding who killed her and stopping the frenzy.”
“Trust me, when you find who killed her, the frenzy will simply take another avenue.” Always reasonable, Kyung spread his hands. “This will play for a while. I can and will write a statement—for your approval—and distribute that. But you’ll need to hold a media conference, and as soon as possible. This afternoon, latest.”
“I need to get to Seventy-Five, asap. I need to talk to her associates, her bosses, her staff. She’ll have her blackmail files somewhere, and they may be at the station.”
“It would be best, for now, if her alleged blackmail wasn’t made public.” Kyung glanced at Whitney, got a nod of agreement.
“I’m not going to discuss pertinent investigation details, for crap’s sake.”
Kyung merely inclined his head. “Precisely.”
“I contacted Nadine Furst, and I’m meeting her there. She’s crime beat and good at it—and she’ll hold whatever I tell her to hold.”
Kyung winged up an eyebrow. “You agreed to an interview?”
“I get her to dig into Mars from her angles, and I give her a one-on-one.”
“This morning?” He held up a finger before she could answer. “This could work very well, all around. You give Nadine—as she represents Seventy-Five—a first exclusive. Seventy-Five, after all, represents Larinda Mars’s family. Nadine also acts as the pool reporter, and agrees to that, agrees to share content of the interview with the other media.”
“I don’t know if she’ll go with that.”
“You’ll convince her,” Kyung said equably. “She knows how it works. She gets first exclusive, and she’ll have control—with my input—of what’s shared. You will have fed the beast for this morning. And the afternoon media conference will keep it fed for the time being.”
He smiled. “Win-win.”
It was sort of devious, Eve thought. She had to admire it.
Plus, it bought her a little more field time.
“I’ll make it happen.”
“I’m sure you will. Lieutenant, when it does come out—as it will—that she used blackmail to gather information, the information that generated her ratings and her own celebrity? Her peers and associates will turn on her. And that will generate yet another kind of frenzy.”
“Why she got dead doesn’t make her any less murdered. It doesn’t make the person who killed her any less deserving of a cage. I don’t care what her peers think of her. Hell, I don’t care what I think of her. Nobody had the right to kill her.”
Obviously satisfied, Kyung smiled at her. “Knowing you’d say exactly that, in exactly that tone, to a room full of cameras and mics, is why you make my job so interesting.”
“Glad to help.”
He laughed. “I’ll write the statement, text you the draft. Please ask Nadine to contact me once you’ve agreed to terms.”
“Okay.” She turned back to Whitney. “Sir?”
“You’re dismissed, Lieutenant. I’ll get your warrant, and Kyung and I will coordinate on the media. Keep me updated.”
All in all, Eve thought on her way out, it could’ve been a lot worse. She started to pull out her comm, to te
ll Peabody to meet her in the garage, then decided to make one more stop first.
The Electronic Detectives Division spewed out color and movement like a Broadway musical produced by caffeine-hyped teenagers.
Everybody bounced, jiggled, hip bumped, and swiveled—often at the same time—and they all wore outfits that made Jenkinson’s tie fetish come off as a conservative choice.
She saw neon stripes, glowing polka dots, animated shirts, and a plethora of wildly patterned airboots.
To escape the assault on the senses, she moved fast toward Feeney’s office.
The captain of this madhouse, and her former partner, sat on the edge of his desk, frowning at his wall screen.