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Nolan smiled, playing the game. “Sure. Detective Matthews, would you take Mr. Carter to make his phone call?”

Matthews nodded, and put one hand on Danny’s arm, his grip firm but civil.

“And when he’s done, could you bring him into Interview One?” Nolan made it sound like he was asking Danny in for coffee.

The detective guided him out of the bank of holding cells and down the hall, keeping the grip on his arm. For a moment, Danny imagined throwing him off, making a break for it, but rejected the idea immediately. That was panic, and that he couldn’t afford.

Matthews sat him down at an officer’s desk, a black fabric half-cubicle. He cuffed Danny to the chair, gestured to the phone, and stepped across the aisle to chat with a guy in a suit.

He dialed carefully, trying to collect his thoughts. One call to Karen to let her know what had happened. The phone rang. Then he had to convince Nolan that he didn’t know anything useful, and do it fast. The phone rang. If they didn’t have anything on the kidnapping, it would just be about Patrick. The phone rang.

Where was Karen? She had said she’d wait by the telephone.

The machine clicked on, his own voice playing back at him. He felt his pulse quicken. Had she panicked? That wasn’t her style, but he was supposed to have called hours ago. She might have come looking for him, wanting to help.

The machine beeped, and he spoke loudly. “Karen? Karen, pick up.” There was a crackle and a click as the machine cut off. “Thank God. Karen, listen-”

“Partner.”

Evan.

Danny’s stomach fell, and he gripped the phone with white knuckles.

“I’m sorry,” Evan continued, “Karen can’t come to the phone. She’s tied up, if you know what I mean.”

Danny’s heart beat against his chest like a wild animal trying to free itself from a snare. “I’m warning you-”

“Shut up, you arrogant prick.” The playful tone dropped from his voice. “She’s okay. But you just be very careful what you say to our friends, huh?”

It all fell together. Somehow Evan must have known that he’d been brought in for questioning. This was his way of making sure Danny didn’t bring down the police. He forced himself to breathe. “I understand.”

“Good boy. Gotta go.”

And then the phone went dead.

Oh God. The unthinkable had somehow gotten worse. He didn’t buy Evan’s deal for a second. There was no way he’d let Karen go, not now. He’d almost certainly kill Tommy and Richard, and they were far less dangerous to him. If Danny couldn’t stop him, Evan would leave three bodies in his wake.

One of them hers.

Detective Matthews stepped over and looked at Danny inquisitively. “Bad news?”

For a moment, Danny thought of confessing everything, telling him the whole story and enlisting the cops’ aid. But then he remembered the easy speed with which Evan had put his pistol against Tommy’s forehead. The risk was too great. The police would only make things worse.

He was the only hope Karen and the others had.

Danny looked up, let his breath out. Made himself smile. “Nah. You know women.” He hung up the phone, hoping the detective didn’t notice his finger shaking. “You guys ready for me?”

39

The Demons of Long Ago

The two-way glass between them dimmed Danny’s features, but even so, he looked pretty calm to Nolan. Danny sat at the table, cuffs off, glancing around the room with just the right blend of interest and discomfort. Acting the citizen.

“How do you want to do this?” Matthews asked.

“I’ll start alone.” Nolan straightened his tie, fingers feeling as clumsy as usual. Every morning Mary-Louise tied him a perfect half-Windsor – it was part of her morning ritual, a domestic incantation to bring him home safe – but by day’s end, the knot had usually degenerated into a lumpy half-hitch.

“You know, the dude seems awfully cool. You sure he’s dirty?” Matthews asked.

Nolan smiled. “Your experience, how’s somebody done nothing wrong react when you put the cuffs on?”

“They start telling me I don’t need them.”

“Exactly.” Nolan made a final tug at his tie. “Danny, he just turned around and stuck out his wrists.” He shot his cuffs, stepped out of the observation room, and opened the door to the interview room.

Danny glanced up at him with a bland smile, but Nolan kept his own expression neutral as he took measured steps to the table. He stood for a moment sizing Danny up, letting the silence draw out a few seconds longer than was comfortable. Finally he pulled out a chair.

“So,” he said, “I’m obligated to remind you that you can have counsel here if you like.”

“Do I need it?”

Nolan shrugged. “I just want to ask you a few questions.”

“This is about Patrick?” Danny’s voice caught slightly, and the sadness that flickered across his face seemed real enough.

“Mostly.”

“I can’t believe what happened. We’re still shocked. If there’s anything I can do to help, I’d be glad to.”

The mask was back up, Nolan noticed. “Let’s start with you telling me how you knew him.”

“We grew up together.” Danny continued, talking about Bridgeport and Back of the Yards, their mutual old neighborhood. How they’d been friends in grade school, and how when Patrick’s parents died, he’d come to live with Danny. A very Irish, very old-school story, and one Nolan mostly already knew.

Still, Nolan let him talk, prompting here and there with questions to keep it flowing. Timing was crucial. He spent more than an hour establishing the basics, just letting Danny get used to talking. He asked about their friendship, about Danny’s past. Every time he spoke about Patrick’s death, he saw that same flash of sadness. Once, Nolan had thought that Danny might have had to dig deep to come up with someone still in the life, someone he could pay to get rid of Evan. But that obviously hadn’t been the case.

“You guys have been friends all along, right? So you knew what he did.” Nolan made it a statement, holding his gaze on Danny’s.

“Sure.” Danny didn’t flinch. “In general terms.”

“And you felt okay being friends with a felon? I mean,” he paused, readying the barb, “this guy was a real piece of shit.”

A vein in Danny’s forehead throbbed, but he kept his tone pleasant. “He was a good guy, Sean.”

“Yeah?” He paused, changed tacks, trying to keep Danny off-kilter. “Hey, who gave you the shiner? Looks nasty.”

“This?” Danny touched his cheek, where the skin was purpling. “Dumbest thing. I was working in the basement. Walked right into the cold water shut-off valve.”

“That scratch up your hands, too?”

Danny smiled. “Guess I should wear gloves when I work, huh?”

Nolan didn’t return the smile. “I was wondering if maybe it had to do with that thing you came to see me about.”

“Evan?” Danny shook his head. “Haven’t heard from him in a couple of weeks.”

Fifteen years as a cop gave you an eye for reactions. Danny was a good liar, Nolan could see that, but he was lying just the same. “Just went away, huh?”

“I guess he realized I wasn’t much of a target for a shakedown.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe he got tired of the weather. Either way, I haven’t heard from him.”

Nolan nodded slowly. It was a good play. Any admitted contact with Evan would give Nolan something to hammer away at. He knew Danny was lying, knew that Evan was still in his life, that they were up to something. He’d been able to see it on Karen’s face, and in Danny’s actions. But knowing wasn’t the same as hard evidence.

Unfortunately, evidence was in short supply. Unless circumstances changed, the only way he was going to get somewhere was if Danny slipped. He had to keep the pressure up, keep him off guard. With a smile on his face, he attacked.