“You know, you could escape.”
“And do what? That won’t help my case.”
“I have that boat.”
“No, Peter.” She said it firmly enough that he just nodded and kept walking.
“So what are you going to tell Kluren?”
“I walked in, found a body, called you.”
“And when she asks why it was left on your doorstep?”
“I don’t know. I guess she hasn’t solved that case she said she was going to solve yet.” The words came out with a tang of nastiness that seemed to vibrate the fog. She took a deep breath. She had to keep cool.
“That jab about your dad stung?” He asked. Simone fished out a cigarette and lit it, then inhaled deeply. “Your dad was a great cop. My dad always said so.”
“Dad didn’t talk about life as a policeman,” Simone said, her voice low in the fog. “Or why he left the force. Just… work. How to think, investigate.” From the time her mom left, he was a detective, and she was his protégée. All he talked about was work. Never Mom, never their life before she was gone, never even what was right or wrong. Just how to be a detective, how to solve the case. She had a sudden memory of him, showing her how to load a gun when she was eight years old, pushing each bullet neatly into the row of the clip.
“Good… carefully, though, don’t crowd them.” He’d had a low, gruff voice, and large, rough hands that cradled hers. “Then we push it into the gun here, till it clicks.” He had moved her hands so that she loaded the clip of the gun. “Good. Then we just point and shoot, like this.” He had knelt behind her and moved her arms forward. “Both hands… brace yourself, it’s going to knock you back pretty hard when you fire it. Remember, shoot them before they shoot you.”
“How will I know if they’re going to shoot me?” Simone had asked.
“You’ll know. And if you’re wrong, it won’t matter, as long as you shoot first.”
“Well, he was a good cop,” Peter said, bringing her back to the present. “And he didn’t quit when it got tough. He and Kluren solved a really tough multiple homicide; once it was wrapped up, he quit. He waited until he wasn’t gonna mess anything up by leaving. A stand-up guy, my dad always said.”
“Thanks.”
They got to Teddy, and Peter led her onto the boat and down to the interrogation rooms. A few cops glanced up at them, but then went back to what they were doing. When the department had taken over the ship, they’d cleared out a number of small bunks to create the interrogation rooms, bolting a steel table to the floor and throwing in a few cheap tin chairs. The two-way mirrors, which took up almost an entire wall, didn’t match the old bolted bulkhead. They shone too sleekly, felt too clean. Simone sat down in the chair facing the mirror.
“I’m going to need your weapons,” Peter said apologetically. She nodded and unzipped her boot, pulling her gun from it and placing it on the table. She didn’t zip the boot back up but instead unzipped the other, letting her legs breathe. “Thanks,” he said, taking the gun. “I’ll get us some coffee.” He left her alone, staring at her reflection. The overhead light was strong, and from where she sat she could see how it cast shadows in the hollows of her eyes. She leaned back and took off her hat and trench coat. Peter came back in, put a paper cup of coffee down in front of her, and sat down opposite. He had his own cup of coffee and blew on it, making the steam wave out like a gray flag.
They sat in silence a long while. Simone drank all her coffee, burning her tongue on the first sip. Peter got her another, but this one she only held until it got cold. When Kluren finally showed up, she was a shadow in the doorway, looking down at both of them.
“Weiss, out.” Kluren said. As he left, Peter shot Simone a look that was hard to read—pity? solidarity? Simone turned to Kluren, trying to keep her face level, unreadable. Kluren took her seat and leaned back, staring at Simone. Her gold irises seemed to twist, as if amused by Simone’s attempts to shut herself down.
“Isn’t it unusual for the chief to be doing the interview?” Simone asked, still holding her coffee.
Kluren put her hands behind her head, leaned back, and looked at the ceiling. “I can run my boat however I want.” She took her hands down and leveled her gaze at Simone. “Now why don’t you tell me about the case I told you to drop?”
“You got everything off my server.”
“I’m sure you’ve made some progress since then.”
“I dropped it, just like you told me.”
“Do you really think lying is somehow going to get you out of this mess? Your client was murdered and left in your office. I know you’re not dumb enough to do that, even if you act like it most of the time. And I know that whoever left it there staged it as a warning, not to frame you. I’m your life preserver, here, Simone. I’m being very nice.” She leaned forward, her arms making a triangle, pointing at Simone.
“You said you wanted to throw me in prison.”
“Would you prefer to end up like Linnea? ’Cause I don’t see this playing out any other way.”
“You think I’m gonna let myself get sliced up?”
“Let? I think you’re running towards it with open arms.” She leaned back, slapping the table. Simone stared at her, trying to decide if Kluren was angry that Simone was putting herself in danger, or just angry at Simone for continuing to exist.
“I’m trying to solve a case.”
“One I told you to drop.”
Simone put down her coffee and folded her arms. “You’re not my boss.”
“Which is a shame, ’cause you need a boss. You’re the sort who drowns because she doesn’t realize she’s underwater till it’s too late. Now tell me who sent you the warning.”
“I don’t know.” Simone held eye contact with Kluren, daring her ForenSpecs to say she was lying.
“Then you’re not doing a very good job investigating, are you? Did you find out what the package was for, or who the blonde was?”
Simone kept holding Kluren’s gaze but said nothing.
“Cute, the silent thing. ’Cause if you answer a question, you think I can tell if you’re lying. Or maybe you’re hoping I’ll tell you what we know about the little art deal your client was working on.” Simone raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t think we knew about that? We know more. So just tell us who left you the body and we can get on with solving it. You might even get to go free, depending on how I feel in the morning.”
“Did you really just say that?” The door had opened halfway without either of the women noticing, and now Caroline Khan pushed it the rest of the way open and gave Kluren a questioning look. “The mayor is trying to cut down on police corruption, Kluren. Let’s try not to say exciting and provocative things in front of the private detective, hm? Wouldn’t look good in the press.”
Kluren stared warily at Caroline, but stood. “Does the mayor have an interest in this case?”
“He will if I tell him he does,” Caroline said with a smile.
“Now who’s saying provocative things in front of detectives?”
Caroline folded her arms and nodded in Simone’s direction without looking at her. “She might be an untrustworthy bitch, but she also knows I’m here to get her out, so I think she’ll be good for a while.”
“You can’t take away a suspect.”
“She’s a person of interest, not a suspect, which means she can go if she wants. If you upgrade her to suspect then you have to arrest her, and then she gets a lawyer and you don’t get to talk to her again anyway, so why not just let her go and I’ll have a little chat with her and decide what’s best for the city? Right now, I’m going to be a lot scarier than you think you’re going to be.” She leaned back on one of her heels, arms still crossed.