“You earned it.”
“I’ll get started on my end,” Reo said. “Good luck.”
“How’d you swing with this guy?”
“Kept it low and chill,” Callendar began. “I’m just the girl.” She fluttered her exhausted eyes. “He’s interested in my tits, but they all are. Who could blame?”
“Yes, they’re exceptional. Use them if it works.”
“He hasn’t said the L word yet, but he’s thinking about it. I can tell.”
“He can lawyer. It won’t matter. If he does, he won’t get the deal. I’m going to be mean. You can be shocked. Let’s go.”
She stepped in. “Record on,” she said briskly, barely glancing at the big, bulky man huddled at the table. She read off the salients—pointing a finger at him to shut him up.
Wide face, she noted, short, bristly hair. Fear in his eyes.
She sat. “Officer Rouche, welcome to Earth.” And smiled. “You have the right to remain silent,” she began, keeping her eyes hard on his until she’d completed the recitation. “Do you understand your rights and obligations in this matter?”
“Yeah, I understand. I don’t understand why the hell I need rights and obligations. I don’t understand why the hell I got dragged off my job and down here like some criminal.”
Eve leaned forward. “Oh yes, you do. And when you go back up, it won’t be to the job. It’ll be to a cage. Maybe real close to your good pal, Max Ricker.”
“You gotta be crazy. I want a—”
“Say lawyer and we’re done.” She pointed her index finger at him, cocked her thumb. “I don’t give you a shot, just wrap you up and dust off my hands while you’re charged, tried, and convicted of conspiracy to murder a police officer.”
“Con—” He literally choked while his face went raw-beet red. “I never—what the hell? I never killed anybody.”
“Hence the word ‘conspiracy.’ You don’t have to do the kill to go down just as hard, just as long. That’s life, Rouche. But, hey, not so bad since you already live on Omega. I mean, it’s not like you were planning to retire and relocate to, say, the south of France.”
She grinned when he lost every ounce of angry color.
“Here you go, Rouche.” Callendar moved to him, offered a cup of water. “You really look like you need this. Jeez, cop murder. You’re so burnt. I mean, wow. And putting a former guard in up there, with the major badasses he used to dick around? Ouch. Majorly sucks to be you.”
“Your pal Zeban’s in another room just like this right now,” Eve added. “And he’s going to roll over so fast he’ll look like a circus dog. I get a knock on that door before you do your trick of the day, and I don’t need you.”
Callendar let out a whistle. “Boy howdy, I’d jump, roll, and stand up and beg.”
“I don’t know what she’s talking about.” He spoke directly to Callendar now as little beads of sweat formed on his upper lip. “Hand to God, I never killed anybody. I don’t know anything about killing a cop. Why would I do that?”
“I hear you.” Callendar gave his arm a sympathetic pat. “But—and I’m sort of sorry to say it, under the circumstances—you were chummy with Max Ricker. I found the data myself. Feel kinda responsible for what’s going down now. But, you know, I just did my job. The doctored logs, the toss-away ’link in your quarters. The text message. Plus . . . oh south of France!” Callendar looked at Eve as if she’d just understood. “The transmissions with the ex-wife!”
“Which puts her ass in the same sling. She’s being picked up right now, and that’s conspiracy to murder on her, in addition to the tax fraud, money laundering, bribery, and the host of others.”
“Luanne didn’t have anything to do with it. She just did like I said. What the hell is this?”
“Max Ricker ordered the assassination of a police officer, one Detective Amaryllis Coltraine, through the ’link you provided him. You took payment from him. Multiple payments, which we’ve now documented. You arranged for the visitor’s log to be altered, and for the transmissions sent and received by Ricker to be eliminated from record. You handed him the fucking weapon that took Coltraine’s life.
“Look at me, at me !” she snapped when he turned desperately to Callendar. “I knew Coltraine. Believe me when I tell you I have a personal stake in this, that I won’t give a goddamn if you and your greedy ex spend the rest of your useless lives in a cage. In fact, I’ll have a small celebration over that fact daily. Do you believe me?”
“Yes.”
Callendar made sure her gulp was audible. “Wow. Me, too.”
“Here’s the deal. Onetime offer, and I hope you’re too stupid to take it. The conspiracy charges will be dropped on you, and on your wife, if you confess to the charges of bribery and collusion, to altering records. You’ll do ten to fifteen, on-planet, provided you cooperate and tell us everything you know regarding Ricker’s communications.”
“Ten to fifteen on-planet’s cake compared to life without parole on Omega.” Callendar gave Rouche another little pat on the arm. “If I were you, I’d sing like a bird on a spring morning. What do you think?”
Rouche wiped his sweaty lip with the back of his hand. He cleared his throat. And he sang.
When it was done, Callendar stood outside interview with Eve. “That rocked. Seriously. He just popped open and poured it out like . . . something that pops and has stuff in it. I’m really tired.”
“Go home, get some sleep. You did solid work here.”
“I am so all over that. Hey, Peabody. I helped Dallas cook the turkey. See ya.”
“She looks beat, so did Sisto. But we cooked our own turkey.”
“We’ll compare notes.” She nodded to Reo as Reo came out of observation. “Walk and talk. We need . . . Morris.”
“He’s an idiot. A greedy idiot. And that greed and stupidity helped kill her.”
“I know ten to fifteen may not seem like enough, it may not seem like—”
“No.” He interrupted, shook his head. “It’s enough. For him.”
“You can go with Reo. The two of you and Mira can watch the next phase. We’ve got a room set up for you.” She pulled out her communicator when it signaled, noted it was Baxter. “You go on ahead. We’re nearly ready to start.”
She waited until Morris was out of hearing before she answered. “Tell me.”
“A whole shitload of cash money, credit cards and IDs in fake names, more passcodes, which I’m reading as bank accounts. Unregistered ’link and PPC, not yet activated. And the money shot, Dallas: Coltraine’s ring.”
“Bag it, log it, bring it. You earned your doughnuts today, Baxter.”
“Fry her ass, Dallas.”
“You can depend on it.”
She clicked off Baxter to tag Feeney. “Did she bite?”
“Not a nibble on the ’links.”
“How about her unit?”
“Through the passcode and fail-safe—she has some skills, but I’ve got more. I’m just starting on the data.”
“Plan B, then. Roarke?”
“Ask him yourself. Hey, hotshot, your wife wants you.”
Eve winced at “your wife,” then shrugged it off as Roarke came on. “Hello, darling.”
“Don’t do that. I’m clocking time. Did you hook it up?”
“Ready when you are. And let me just say this is a brilliant idea on so many levels. I’m pleased to have a hand in it.”
“Thought you would be. I’ll beep you twice when I’m ready.”
“I like ‘darling,’ ” Peabody commented. “It’s old-fashioned and romantic. Especially with the accent.”
“Peabody.”
“Just thinking out loud. So can we fry her now?”