Rob sat and fumed, saying nothing.
“Don’t think you’re protecting them by keeping quiet,” Hanley said. “If anyone else is involved we’ll find them. We’ll talk to all your friends, track down the names on your email list, all the people you’ve been chatting with online.”
“Admit it, Rob, it’s hopeless,” Steeves said. “By the time we’re finished sniffing around we’ll have you sewn up so tight you’ll be lucky if you can wiggle the baby toe on your left foot. Do yourself a favor and tell us what we want to know. It’ll go a lot easier for you.”
Rob closed his eyes and took a long breath to try to calm down.
“You can help yourself,” Steeves said. “The U.S. Attorney’s office will like it if we tell them you were cooperative, saved everyone a lot of time and grief.”
“Or you can be stubborn,” Hanley said. “Try to bluff it out. Let the bank swing in the wind for a while. Really make everyone angry.”
“But that’s only if he wants maximum prison time.”
“Maybe that’s what he wants,” Hanley said.
“Is that what you want Rob? It can go either way you know, it’s up to you. But one way or another you’re going to tell us the keyword, because there’s no doubt.” Steeves leaned in closer and pointed a finger at Rob. “We know what you did and we can prove it.”
Rob shook his head in frustration. “Can’t you see that doesn’t make any sense? Even if I was dumb enough to attack the bank’s computers, why would I leave so many clues pointing in my direction?”
Steeves looked at his partner.
“Is it just me,” Steeves said, “or did he answer his own question?”
“As in, why would one stupid act be followed by another?” Hanley said.
“Yeah, like that.” Steeves leaned back in his chair again. “What’s the keyword, Rob?”
The two agents sat and stared calmly at him.
“I don’t see the point of this conversation,” Rob said. “I’m telling the truth but you won’t believe a single word.”
“We can stop anytime you want,” Steeves said. “All you have to do is tell us the keyword.”
“And if I can’t?”
“I had lots of sleep last night, how about you Agent Hanley?”
“Plenty.”
Steeves shrugged. “We can stay here all night if that’s what it takes.”
The horrible truth dawned on Rob. His innocence alone was not enough to protect him. He took a deep breath and said the words that would have been unthinkable a few hours before.
“I’m not saying anything else until I talk to a lawyer.”
Steeves frowned and sighed.
“Son, you can lawyer up if you want to, but let me give you some free advice. I’ve been at this a long time, and believe me, your best chance of getting out of this in anything like one piece is to help us right now. You’ve got a good job, no record. Not even a speeding ticket. A judge will take that into account. But if you keep denying everything, you’ll just dig yourself in deeper and deeper, especially since the damage keeps growing the longer you wait.”
The advice seemed sincere but Rob had no choice.
“I want a lawyer.”
Stan Dysart had his feet crossed on the edge of the desk in his home office. He held the phone receiver in one hand while the other rubbed his forehead, trying to do something about his throbbing headache.
“I don’t get it,” he said into the phone. “It’s one thing to hold the bank hostage when he thinks he’s not going to get caught, but why wouldn’t he give up the keyword once you have him cold?”
“He’d have to admit he’s guilty,” Steeves said on the other end. “That can be hard to do. And your average perp isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. They can do some stupid things.”
“But that’s not Rob,” Dysart said. “He’s as levelheaded as they come. Or at least I thought he was.”
“You know him well?”
“Very. He and my niece have dated since they were in high school.”
“You mean Lesley?”
“Right.”
“We met her at Rob’s apartment. I didn’t realize she was your niece.”
“My sister’s girl.”
“Interesting,” Steeves said. “Do you and Rob get along?”
“You mean does he have some sort of grudge against me?”
“Something like that.”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“How do you get along with Lesley?” Steeves asked.
The implication hit Dysart like a slap in the face.
“You can’t possibly think Lesley could be involved,” he said.
“Mr. Dysart, I don’t make assumptions when I start a case. I just ask plenty of questions, and you didn’t answer the one I just asked you.”
“She’s like the daughter we never had. When she came to Boston to go to college it was the first time she’d lived away from home, so we kind of adopted her for a while.”
“Any family squabbles, that sort of thing?”
Dysart thought of his phone call to Lesley that afternoon. “No, not really. Look, I need that keyword. Shouldn’t we focus on how to get it?”
“That’s what I’m doing, Mr. Dysart. We put the screws to Rob pretty good tonight but he stuck to his guns. He’s getting himself a lawyer so it’ll go one of two ways. The lawyer might be able to talk some sense into him and they’ll come looking for a plea bargain. Believe me, he won’t get any deal until he gives up the keyword. If he keeps saying he’s innocent, though, the lawyer will probably advise him to say nothing more, in which case we need to talk to other people, either find someone else who’s involved or someone who can give us something we can use to persuade Rob to cooperate.”
“And you’re sure you’ve got the right guy?”
“There’s no doubt,” Steeves said. “Not with what we found, and we’re going to keep going, see if we can dig up some way to force him to cooperate. What I need from you is any ideas about where to start. Are any of your computer people particularly good friends with Rob?”
“That would be Tim Whitlock,” Dysart said. “He and Rob grew up together, went to the same college, that sort of thing. As for the others, you’ll have to ask John Kelleher.”
“All right. I’ll keep you up to date.”
Dysart hung up the phone and sat with his hands folded in his lap, staring unseeingly into a dim corner of his office. He didn’t want to believe it was Rob, of all people.
What would this do to Lesley? Rob was probably on his way to jail. What an idiot. How could Rob mess up so many lives like this?
Dysart left his office and padded up a set of thickly carpeted stairs. The sound of soft, regular breathing greeted him when he cracked open the door to the guest bedroom. The sleeping pill Sheila had supplied was finally working. Lesley was asleep. He looked at her face in the spill of light from the hallway. The sight brought back memories of the last time she had slept there, following the death of her father. He felt the urge to scoop her up from the bed, to comfort her as he had done years before. She was like his own child and he hated to see her in pain like this. He closed the door quietly. He could wait until morning to talk to her.
As he walked away, Dysart’s thoughts returned to the even more pressing issue of how to get the bank back on an even keel. He needed the keyword at all costs. Unless Rob changed his tune soon, Dysart would have to call Ray Landry and turn him loose — assuming Landry was still in business. It had been several years since Dysart had used his services.
And Heaven help Rob if it came to using them again.
CHAPTER TWELVE