Chapter 19
Quinn Sparrow would live. He might, with several months of intensive therapy and treatments, walk again-if he had the same level of will and guts Reva Ewing had called upon to recover from her injuries.
It was, to Eve’s mind, a solid kind of justice.
He had broken bones, a fractured spine, and a concussion among other insults. He would require reconstructive surgery on his face.
But he would live.
Eve was glad to hear it.
He was and would remain in Intensive Care for at least forty-eight hours. He was sedated, but Eve’s badge and some bullying got her through.
She left Peabody posted at the door.
He was either sleeping or zoned when she walked in. She was banking on the zoned and shut off his IV drip of blockers without a twinge of remorse.
It only took a few moments for him to surface, moaning.
He looked considerably worse for wear, brutally bruised around his bandages, with a skin cast on his right arm, another along with a stability cage-that looked a little like one of Bissel’s sculptures-around his right leg.
The wedge of collar prevented any movement of his head or neck.
“You in there, Sparrow?”
“Dallas.” White at the lips, he shifted his eyes, tried to focus on her. “What the fuck?”
She moved closer, making it easier for him to keep her in his line of vision, and laid a hand in what she considered a “survivors of the battle” gesture on his shoulder. “You’re in the hospital. You’re strapped in to restrict movement.”
“I don’t remember. How… how bad?”
It was, she thought, a nice touch to look away for a moment as if she was struggling to speak. “It’s… it’s pretty bad. He hit us, hard. You took the worst. Vehicle went up like a rocket, crashed like a bomb. Slammed into a maxi on your side. You’re messed up bad, Sparrow.”
She felt his shoulder tremble as he tried to move. “Christ, Christ, the pain.”
“I know. It’s gotta be rugged. But we got him.” She closed a hand over his now, squeezed. “We got the bastard.”
“What? Who?”
“We got Bissel, wrapped and locked. Still had the shoulder launcher he used on us. Blair Bissel, Sparrow, alive and well, and singing like a canary.”
“That’s crazy.” He groaned. “I need the doctor. I need something for the pain.”
“I want you to listen, to dig down and pay attention. I don’t know how much time you’ve got.”
“Time?” His fingers jerked under hers. “Time?”
“I want to give you a chance to clear your conscience, Sparrow. To set the record straight. You deserve that much. He’s dumping the whole ball on you. Listen to me. Listen.” She tightened her fingers on his. “I’ve got to give it to you, and you’ve got to prepare yourself. You’re not going to make it.”
His skin went sickly gray. “What are you talking about?”
She leaned in close so he could see only her face. “They did everything they could. Worked on you for hours. There’s too much damage.”
“I’m dying?” His voice, already a weak tremble, cracked. “No. No. I want a doctor.”
“They’ll be back in a minute. They’ll give you… they’ll give you a humane dose. You’ll go out easy.”
“I’m not going to die.” Tears swam, and spilled over. “I don’t want to die.”
She pressed her lips together, as if overcome. “I thought you’d want to hear it from me, from… a colleague. His aim had been better, we’d both be on our way out. But he just sheered the front end, and we flipped. They saved your leg,” she continued, and paused to clear her throat. “They hoped that… Christ. The impact messed up your insides, messed them up bad. The son of a bitch killed you, Sparrow, and tried for me.”
“I can’t see. I can’t move.”
“You’ve gotta stay quiet, still. It’ll buy you time. You’ve been out of it, Sparrow, and he’s using that. He tried to wipe us both, and because of that I’m trying to give you a chance to go out with some dignity. I’m going to read you your rights.” She paused again, shook her head. “Jesus, this sucks.”
He began to tremble as she recited the revised Miranda. “You understand your rights and obligations, Assistant Director Sparrow?”
“What the hell is this about?”
“It’s about setting the record straight, and getting some of your own back here. A good lawyer’s going to get Bissel off with a few slaps if you don’t tell me how it went down. He’s counting on you just dying. Dying and taking the hard rap. He says you killed Carter Bissel and Felicity Kade.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“I know it, but he might convince the PA. Jesus, Sparrow, you’re dying! Tell me the truth, let me shut this down, put him away. He killed you.” She leaned in close, lowered her voice. “Make him pay.”
“Stupid fuck-up. Who knew he had it in him? How’d it all end up like this?”
“Tell me, and I’ll see to it he goes down. You’ve got my word on it.”
“He killed Carter Bissel and Felicity Kade.”
“Who?”
“Blair! Blair Bissel killed Carter Bissel and Felicity Kade. He sniffed a little Zeus to give himself some backbone and sliced them up.”
“Why? Give me some juice so I can drown him in it.”
“He was going to disappear, with a big chunk of change. Set up the wife so the cops closed the book. Open, shut. Shoulda been open, shut.”
“You sent Reva the photographs of Blair and Kade?”
“Yeah. I took them, dropped them on her when the rest was in place. I can’t feel my legs. I can’t feel my legs.”
“Hold on. Just hold on. I’m recording this, Sparrow. You’re going on record. You’re going to put him away for doing this to you. Why’d he kill Kade?”
“Needed her to tie the bow on the package. And she knew too much about both of us. Couldn’t risk it.”
“You were the brains in this. You can’t tell me that jerkoff thought this up on his own.”
“I had it all worked out. Should’ve been a walk. Couple more weeks, I’d be on a beach sipping fucking mai tais, but he just kept screwing things up.”
“Kade was in on it? She pulled the brother in.”
“Know a hell of a lot, don’t you?” He stared at Eve with dead eyes.
“I’m putting it together. I’ve got to be straight with you. You deserve that. A deathbed confession…” She trailed off, watching his face blanch and crumble. “Well, you know the weight of that. You’ll be the one to lock the cage on him. I want to give you that last act. Professional courtesy. Felicity Kade drew Carter Bissel into the mix.”
“Pulled him in.” Sparrow’s breath wheezed in, wheezed out, and Eve had the sudden thought that the bastard might die on her just through the power of suggestion. “Had the stupid son of a bitch convinced he was working for the HSO. Going to take over his brother’s position. He bought it. Change his face, make a few deliveries. Get to sleep with his trainer. He was a dunk.”
“I bet. Who took out the guy who did the face and body work? Kade?”
“No. No, she wouldn’t get her hands dirty. She had Bissel do it-Carter. She was good at getting men to do what she wanted.”
“But you were the architect, right? Not Kade, certainly not Blair Bissel. You’re not stupid enough to go around killing people right and left, but you knew how to pull the strings. He thought he had the comp worm. He thought he could sell it. Live off the proceeds the rest of his life. But he never had it.”
“Can’t have what doesn’t exist. I made it up.” His smile turned to a grimace. “I can’t take this pain, Dallas. I can’t take it.”
His whine set her teeth on edge, but she gave his hand another bolstering squeeze. “It won’t be much longer. There’s no worm?”
“Yeah, there’s a worm. It’s just not as advertised. I invented it, hyped it, documented the skewed data and intel. Doomsday’s been trying to create one, a fricking decade. Works in theory, but in practice it just self-cannibalizes or mutates when it hits the shields. You insert at port, it’ll mess up a unit, fry its ass, but it won’t network, and won’t infect by remote. But if it did…”-his pale, battered face shone for a moment with pleasure-”… it’d be worth billions.”