Eve cracked the tube, drank, paced. “He’d have been smarter to do it all himself. Get Duff to let him in, deal with Pickering—though he wouldn’t have taken Pickering out easy, and that’s one reason. But he does that, does Duff, and if he needs more, he pulls out somebody like Aimes, does what he does. But he draws in three morons. Because he wants a following, he wants to be in charge. He goes low there because he can manipulate them. Once they kill for him, he’s got them. And once they kill the weakest among them, they’re sealed. That’s how he saw it. You get the war started, whatever else it takes, and use it to take Jones out, one way or the other, and step in.”
She drank again, gestured with the tube. “He sincerely believed they’d go down for him. They’d never flip. That’s his arrogance, his own sense of self-importance. One flips because he thinks it makes them all heroes, because being a killer is a badge of honor.”
“And he believes, probably sincerely,” Peabody added, “that Jorgenson feels exactly the same.”
“You got that. The second flips because he’s not just stupid but scared. Take away his high, his gang buddies, he breaks down.”
“I’ll put in,” Reo commented, “it strikes me Jorgenson lacks leadership qualities.”
“You’ve got that right. We’re going to hit him with Jones,” Eve told Peabody. “The skimming, the partnership with Cohen, the whole ball. He won’t take it well.”
“You know, you need to start stocking popcorn around here.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Eve turned to the door as a uniform opened it.
“Sir, Jorgenson’s lawyer’s ready to resume.”
“Thank you, Officer. Come on, Peabody, let’s finish this fucker.”
Eve stepped into Interview, resumed the record, sat.
“Lieutenant, my client believes he may have some information that will apply to your investigation and perhaps aid you in it.”
“We’re all ears, right, Peabody?”
“We got four of them.”
“In sharing this information, I’ve advised my client he may be in some legal jeopardy, despite acting without prior knowledge of any crime. We require assurances my client won’t be prosecuted for these actions without knowledge, or the subsequent knowledge afforded during this interview, which has led my client to believe he has salient information.”
“That’s a lot of words to say you want to cut a deal.”
“Lieutenant, since hearing the statements made by Washington and Chesterfield, and becoming aware they not only committed three murders but have attempted to implicate him, my client wishes to cooperate with the police in these matters.”
“Lots of words to say your client’s found himself in a hard corner and wants to try to slither his way out.”
The PD sent Eve what she supposed he thought was a stern look. “You’re required to inform the prosecutor’s office that my client has information that may help in your investigation and in the subsequent prosecution of charged parties.”
“Words, words.” Eve rose, went to the door. “Officer, would you inform APA Cher Reo we have a suspect who’s looking to deal?”
“Yes, sir.”
Eve sat again, hooked an arm over the back of her chair, and met Jorgenson’s stare with one of her own.
He looked away first.
As the uniform let Reo in, Eve spoke for the record. “Reo, APA Cher, entering Interview.”
“Paul Quentin.” The public defender extended a hand. “Attorney for Mr. Jorgenson.”
“Tough for you.” But Reo shook his hand before taking a seat. “So?”
Quentin repeated his pitch, almost verbatim, while Reo sat, folded her hands.
“How about the short answer? No deal.”
“Ms. Reo, I don’t doubt the prosecutor wants convictions on these murders. My client has information that will aid you in achieving that.”
“Both Washington and Chesterfield have tendered full confessions for their parts in the murders, and in doing so, both—independently—implicated your client in those murders. No deal.”