She paused, let it sink in. "You sent her flowers, pink roses, at work. You spent some time watching her on her day off. You used a unit in the cyber-joint across the street. We got you nailed there. You know, we've got a whole frigging division of cyber-geeks on the payroll, Kev. I'll tell you a little secret."
She eased in again, dropped her voice to a conspirator's whisper. "You're not as good as you think you are. Not there, not at the joint on Fifth either. You left prints."
She watched his lips tremble like a child about to cry. "Anyway," she said, "back to Bryna Bankhead. You met her at the Rainbow Room. Coming back to you yet, Kevin? She was a pretty woman. You had drinks. Or you did, and she had Whore you mixed with her wine. When she was primed with it, you went back to her place. Gave her a little more, just in case."
She slapped her hands on the table, leaned in. "You turned on music, you lit the candles, you tossed fucking pink rose petals on the bed. And you raped her. To give it all a little more kick, you fed her some Wild Rabbit. Her system couldn't take it, and she died. Died right there in the bed of roses. Scared you, didn't it? Pissed you off. What the hell did she mean by dying and messing up your plans? You threw her off the terrace, threw her out on the street like she was garbage."
"No."
"Did you watch her fall, Kevin? I don't think so. You were done with her. Had to cover your ass, didn't you? Run home to Lucias and ask him what to do."
She straightened, turned away, strolled over and got herself a cup of water. "He runs you, doesn't he? You haven't got the spine to run yourself."
"No one runs me. Not Lucias, not you, not anyone. I'm a man. My own man."
"Then it was your idea."
"No, it was – I have nothing to say. I want my lawyer."
"Good." She eased a hip down on the table. "I was hoping you'd say that because once you bring the lawyers in, I don't have to work with you toward any sort of deal. I've got to tell you, Kevin, just the idea of making a deal with you was making me sick to my stomach. And I've got a really strong stomach, right, Peabody?"
"Titanium steel, sir."
"Yep, that's me." Eve gave her stomach a little pat. "But you managed to churn it. Now I'm all steady again picturing you spending the rest of your pitiful life in a cage, without your pretty suits, all snuggled up with Big Willy." She pushed off the table. "When I have Lucias sitting where you're sitting now, I'll get a little sick again, working with him. Because he's going to go for a deal and roll right over on you. What are the current odds on that in the pool, Peabody?"
"Three to five, on Dunwood, sir."
"I better place my bet. Let's get you that lawyer, Kevin. Break in Interview, due to suspect's request for representation." She turned for the door.
"Wait."
Her eyes, January ice, met Peabody's. "Something on your mind, Kevin?"
"I just wondered… strictly out of curiosity, what you mean by a deal."
"Sorry, I can't get into that as you've called for your lawyer."
"The lawyer can wait."
Gotcha,Eve thought, and turned back. "Record on. Continuation of Interview, same subjects. Please repeat that, Kevin, for the record."
"The lawyer can wait. I'd like to know what you mean by a deal."
"I'm going to need a nausea pill.",. She sighed, sat again. "Okay. You know what you've got to do, Kevin? You've got to come clean, tell me how it all happened. I need chapter and verse. And you're going to have to show me some good faith and some sincere remorse. You pull that off, and I'll go to bat for you. Recommend that you're given better facilities, separated from the general population of butt-fuckers."
"I don't understand? What sort of deal is that? You think I'm going to go to jail?"
"Oh, Kevin, Kevin." She sighed. "I know you're going over. What happens to you after you're there is up to you."
"I want immunity."
"And I want to sing show tunes on Broadway. Neither one of us have a chance in hell of realizing those precious dreams. We got your DNA, you stupid putz. You didn't suit up for your parties. We got your juice, your prints. And you know that little sample they took from you at Booking? They're running it right now. It's going to match, Kevin, we both know it's going to match what you left behind in Bryna and Moniqua. Once it does, once I have the DNA match in my hot little hand, play time's over. I'll put you down like a sick dog, and all the lawyers in all the land won't be able to help you."
"You have to give me something. A plea bargain, a way out. I have money – "
Her hand whipped out, snatched his shirtfront. "Was that a bribe, Kevin? Am I adding bribing a cop to your list of credits?"
"No, no, I just… I need some help here." He tried to calm himself, to sound reasonable, cooperative. "I can't go to prison. I don't belong in prison. It was just a game. A contest. It was all Lucias's idea. It was an accident."
"A game, a contest, someone else's idea, an accident." She shook her head. "Is this multiple choice?"
"We were bored, that's all. We were bored and needed something to do! We were just having a little fun, a kind of re-enactment of his bastard grandfather's great experiment. Then it went wrong. It was an accident. She wasn't supposed to die."
"Who wasn't supposed to die, Kevin?"
"That first woman. Bryna. I didn't kill her. It just happened."
She leaned back now. "Tell me how it happened, Kevin. Tell me how it just happened."
An hour later, Eve stepped out of Interview. "A miserable, pusboil on the ass of humanity."
"Yes, sir, he is. You wrapped him up tight," Peabody added. "A platoon of lawyers won't be able to poke so much as a pinhole in that confession. He's gone."
"Yeah. The other boil won't break so easy. Alert the team, Peabody. Same personnel as the park. I'm getting a warrant for Dunwood. They deserve to be in on act two."
"You got it. Dallas?"
"What?"
"Do you really want to sing show tunes on Broadway?"
"Doesn't everyone?" She pulled out her communicator, prepared to request her warrant. It beeped in her hand. "Dallas."
"My office," Whitney ordered. "Now."
"Yes, sir. What is he, psychic? Round up the crew, Peabody. I want to move on Dunwood within the hour."
With the interview on her mind and the anticipation of getting her hands on Lucias hot in her blood, she walked into Whitney's office. She'd been prepared to give him her report orally. Her plans changed when she saw Renfrew and another man in Whitney's office.
Face impassive, Whitney remained behind his desk. "Lieutenant, Captain Hayes. I believe you and Detective Renfrew have already met."
"Yes, sir."
"Detective Renfrew is here with his captain. He's considering filing a formal complaint re your conduct in the Theodore McNamara investigation, of which he is primary of record. In hopes to avoid any such action, I've asked you to come here so that the matter can be discussed."
There was a dull roar inside her head, a low burn deep in her gut. "Let him file."
"Lieutenant, neither I nor this department have a desire to wade through the mess of a complaint if it can be avoided."
"I don't give a damn what you or the department wants." Her tone bit and had something unidentifiable flashing in Whitney's eyes. "You file your complaint, Renfrew. File it, and I'll finish you."
"I told you how it was." Renfrew bared his teeth. "Got no respect for the badge, no respect for fellow officers. She comes onto my crime scene throwing her weight around, pulling rank, undermining my investigation. Questioned my crime scene unit after I requested her to remove herself before she contaminated the scene. Goes behind my back to the ME getting data on a body that's not hers."