Boldt repeated, "Once the attorneys get into this, it's out of our hands. You understand? When have attorneys ever made things simple?"
"If you play dumb," Daphne said, "you are dumb."
"Talk to us," Boldt encouraged. "Tell us about Tegg.
You give us Tegg, you may just walk away from this."
Maybeck glanced back and forth between the two of them. This was the best sign yet. Indecision filled his eyes, which to Daphne indicated a vulnerability and dictated different tactics. "Are you prepared to take the heat for Tegg's crimes?" she asked. To Boldt she said, "I don't know ... maybe he should wait for his attorney, because if that's the way he plays this, he's certainly going to need one." Boldt said, "We're not running a tape recorder. Have you noticed that?"
Daphne cautioned Boldt, "He's not smart enough to understand any of this. I told you he was a dumb shit. I can spot 'em, Lou. You're gonna have to cough up that twenty."
"You're betting on me?" Maybeck asked incredulously. "Betting is for Vice," she advised him. "Sergeant Boldt is Homicide. Maybe you missed that the first time around. You think he's here to discuss a pit bull fight? Christ All Friday, get a clue!"
"Tell us about Bloodlines. You got the donors for Tegg. You offered them cash for their kidneys and they bit. You delivered them to Tegg. Is that about right? Because if it is, then you've got to think this through, Donnie. Can I call you Donnie? You don't mind? Because you can trade that down to bullshit. Even a first-year PD can get you out of that. See? But kidnapping? Interstate transportation of stolen goods-those are federal charges. That's FBI shit. That's three-piece suits and wingtip shoes. You know what you're getting yourself into? For what? Talk to me. Use your head, Donnie, and talk to me. Please." "Not this one," Daphne said. "He's too stupid. Look at those teeth, would you? That ought to tell you something. Shit for brains. The next thing he's going to hear is metal on metal. Boom! That door's going to shut for a long, long time." "Up yours," he said. "Oh, no. Not in the big house. Not up mine, though they'll tell you it's just as nice. It's up yours, Gatemouth. And it's not very pleasant."
That shut him up. Boldt was blushing. Maybeck had allowed his mouth to hang open and his teeth to show. "I bet you like it," he said.
She struck him. She open-handed him right across the cheek. He smiled. "Don't forget, asshole," she said angrily. "This is all off the record." His smile faded.
Boldt said, "In the eyes of the law, Tegg's crimes are your crimes. It is important that you understand that. Do you see any tape recorder, Donnie? It is off the record. We're giving you the benefit of the doubt. We're giving you a chance. All we want right now is a little cooperation."
"We want Tegg," she explained, "not you."
Maybeck said through his gray teeth, "I can smell you from here."
Daphne reached down and found some control. "Tegg's using you.
He uses everybody, doesn't he?" She tried a different tack.
"How much does he pay you? What's he told you a kidney is worth? You know what they pay for them in Argentina, Egypt, India? Between five and fifteen thousand." She saw the devastating effect this had on him. When all else fails, play to a person's greed. "How much of that did you see? What do you owe him? The remaining years of your natural life? Because that's what you're looking at."
Boldt advised, "How do you think the law reads when it comes to performing surgery without a license? Tegg knows exactly how it reads. We're not even sure we can hold him for that. Get it? Why do you think he has you and the others doing his dirty work? Who do you think is going down now that we've busted this thing? Him? No way! Why do you think we were interested in talking to you first, before the serious charges?"
"Let me tell you something," she said. "The smart ones talk. You may not think so, but that's the way it works. The dumb shits end up investing in a couple cases of condoms and praying like hell they can convince the gorillas inside to use one once in a while." She added, "You haven't done time in this state, Donald. We know that. We pulled your prints off the laptop. We know that four years ago you worked for Norwest Power and Light. We know you haven't filed a tax return-" But she caught herself and stopped. Maybeck had lost a full shade of color. Was it the mention of doing time or the mention of the power company that had that effect on him? "You got me mixed up with someone else," he said.
She fired right back: "What is it, Donnie? What is it you're hiding?"
"I got a right to an attorney, don't I? So give me one. I got nothing to say to you."
Boldt said, "Who's running the organs up to Vancouver for Tegg?
" A sharp knock on the door caught all three of them by surprise. The door opened. The man standing there was all Brooks Brothers-all business. All attorney. He stretched his arm to Boldt first and then to Daphne. She resented that. "Howard Chamberland," he introduced himself.
Daphne was thinking: The Howard Chamberland? Where did scum like Maybeck get money for those kinds of fees?
She couldn't believe it. A moment earlier Maybeck had been asking to be assigned an attorney. What was going on here?
Chamberland chided Boldt, "I had heard such good things about you. I hadn't expected something as cheap as this. A little gaming? Some dog fighting? You-a Homicide lieutenant-"
"Sergeant," Boldt corrected. "You've been speaking with him, I presume." He shook his head in disgust. "You can forget all that now, of course. You would be wise to forget the charges. Pit bulls? What are we talking here, a hundred dollars and animal confiscation? What are you, the ASPCA? Come on! Whatever your intentions, you had better speak to Bob Proctor. I certainly am going to as soon as I am done here. Are you bringing additional charges against my client?"
"Your client?" Boldt asked. "At your fee? Or are you doing charity work now?"
"My relationship with Donald is confidential." Daphne said, "it must be. He doesn't like that name. Has anyone even introduced you two?" To Maybeck she said, "You called Tegg, didn't you?" but she watched Chamberland for a reaction. He was expressionless-worth every penny. Daphne felt the frustration as a knot in her throat. So close! What were Sharon's chances now?
Boldt said, "A few minutes ago your client was requesting to see a public defender, Mr. Chamberland. Are you sure you have the right man?"
"Are you?" asked the attorney, holding the door open for them, waiting for them to leave.
As Boldt and Daphne headed down the narrow hallway leading from Interrogation, Lamoia rushed toward them waving a pink telephone memo, his face a youthful combination of fatigue and exhilaration. Before the detective reached them, Shoswitz appeared behind him at the main door and shouted loudly, "Everybody-and I mean everybody but uniforms-in the Situation Room now! No tears!" he emphasized, meaning he would take no excuses. "I don't like the sound of that," Boldt warned. "I don't like a sharpshooter with Chamberland's reputation representing Maybeck." She added, "He's a heavy hitter." "Agreed. We've lost Maybeck."
"I'm about to scream."
"Better not." Boldt happened to catch the lieutenant's eye, just a fleeting glimpse that caused him to make an aside to Daphne. "We're baked." He had worked with Shoswitz for over eleven of his seventeen years with the department and had learned to measure even the slightest nuance in his expression.