44 Delusion in Death

by J. D. Robb

  “I understand,” Mira said gently.

  “How can you? How can anyone? To know that runs through you. I wanted to kill myself.”

  “But you kept going back,” Eve interrupted. “Hoping to find more.”

  “Yes, yes. To find it all, to get rid of it. I brought it all back here, and I dumped it all in a recycler.”

  “Oh please.” Eve rolled her eyes. “How stupid are you? Nobody’s going to buy that. You brought it back, and you re-created the substance. Admit it, for God’s sake. Own it. The PA’s going to push for consecutive life sentences in an off-planet cage. Hard as hard time gets. Lay it out, lay it all out and you might have a shot at a facility on-planet. You can write a goddamn book, do media interviews. You can be somebody. Find your balls, Lew.”

  “I was going to kill myself. I was going to use what he made to destroy myself. I lost my mind for a while. I wasn’t sure it would work, but I took it with me, into the bar. I was going to wait until it was nearly empty, but Joe wouldn’t leave. I lost my nerve. I got up to go, and that woman bumped into me. She knocked the vial, and it fell. I panicked, and I got out.”

  He covered his face with his hands. “All those people.”

  “You made the substance?” Eve repeated. “You took it into the bar?”

  “Yes. God help me, yes,” he said just as Reo stepped in.

  “APA Reo, Cher, entering Interview. Pull up a chair. Lew’s entertaining us with fairy tales.”

  “How can you be so callous?” he demanded. “So cold.”

  “Me? You’re the champ there. Lew’s just confessed to creating the hallucinogenic and taking it into the bar.”

  “I was traumatized! I meant to self-terminate.”

  “There are easier ways,” Eve pointed out. “Did you also mean to self-terminate when you took another vial of the hallucinogenic, palmed it off on Jeni Curve without her knowledge?”

  “I don’t remember any of that. There are blanks in my memory. The shock. The stress. I want to speak with your superior!”

  “Fuck that.” Eve slammed her hands on the table, pushed up to lean into his face. “You needed a vessel, she was handy. You made up some story about a man in black. You were the man, Lew. You. Do you know how many buildings on that street have security cams? Do you think you avoided all of them?”

  “You idiot. I never went near camera range.”

  “No? You’re sure. Your memory’s clear on that point?”

  “I don’t know. You’re confusing me. I want to talk to your commanding officer. I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “You can talk to me,” Reo suggested. “I’m Assistant Prosecuting Attorney Cher Reo.”

  “Do you think I’m going to talk to an assistant? Some secretary?”

  “That’s telling her, Lew.” Eve circled him. “Show her who’s in charge here. Who’s the fucking boss. You murdered a hundred and twenty-seven people, for Christ’s sake, without getting a drop of blood on you. And she sashays in here in her girly suit and sex-me-up shoes and expects you to give her the time of day?

  “This is bullshit. Just bullshit. You put an entire city on notice, and you did it because you could, not for some crackpot end-of-days bullshit like your whacked-out grandfather. You’ve got book deals and vid deals coming. They’ll be beating down your door, throwing money at you. And fame. Everybody’s going to know your name, and fear it. That’s what you want, isn’t it? The attention, the respect you deserve.”

  “That’s right, and I’m not talking to a bunch of idiot women.”

  “Come on, Lew, show us your balls. Give us a thrill. When the real PA gets here, he’ll know he’s dealing with a man. A man who demands respect. Not some weak sister like Joe Cattery. That bitch Weaver was going to promote him over you. It was time for a game changer. Time to level the field. And all those happy hour assholes, slurping up the half-priced drinks. I bet they made you sick. Plenty more out there just like them, but you—you’re special. It’s about damn time people treated you the way you should be treated.”

  “Joe was nothing. A flunky.”

  “That’s right. That’s right. It had to burn your ass when he got the big bonus.”

  “My bonus. Weaver fucked me over.”

  “That bitch.” Not controlled now, Eve thought. Cornered, furious, cracking. “And it wasn’t the money, not really. Right? It was the principle. What did you do, Lew? Impress me. You had the formula, you had the journal—all those secrets inside the faded brown cover. Sure, we found that.” She kept her eyes steady when he blinked. “The men said you really put it together, Lew. All the time, the effort, the planning that went into building the lab, outfitting it. And the risk. Talk about balls. It’s dangerous, cooking up LSD, mixing it, getting all the parts and pieces together. That takes brains and balls. It takes imagination. People are going to talk about Lewis Callaway for generations.”

  “You admit it.” He jabbed a finger at her. “You admit that.”

  “I was messing with you before. Nobody’s ever going to forget what you did, who you are. Jesus, Lew, you’re in a league of your own. Tell me what you did. I’ll never forget.”

  He shook his head, turned away again, but his breathing was fast, his eyes calculating.

  Nearly there, she thought.

  “If you did this,” Teasdale put in. “Can prove you did this, the agency will be very interested. They want people like you, Mr. Callaway, working for them. High-level positions.”

  “Wait just a damn minute,” Eve began.

  “Lieutenant, we’re talking about global security. My superiors—and this reaches the highest chambers—have authorized me to persuade Mr. Callaway, should he prove himself, should he offer details that leave no room for doubt he perpetrated these events, to consider an offer.”

  “Working for the HSO?”

  “Menzini’s talents have certainly been useful. My superiors are of the opinion yours will follow suit.”

  “Some cushy job!” Eve rounded on Teasdale. “Some big, covert government deal? For killing people? I should’ve known you’d play it this way. Let me do all the work, then grab the prize at the end.”

  “Those with the skill and aptitude for such matters are more useful with us than not.” Teasdale merely shrugged. “HSO values creativity and—as you so aptly stated—balls. But I can’t discuss any of it any further without solid evidence, and Mr. Callaway’s statement.”

  “My grandfather works for the HSO? He’s alive and working for you?”

  Teasdale pokered up. “I’m not at liberty to say anything more on that matter at this time. I don’t have that authority.”

  “I should’ve known you’d screw me over,” Eve said bitterly.

  “Priorities, Lieutenant. And power. The choice is yours, Mr. Callaway.”

  “You thought you had me.” He sneered at Eve. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with. All my life I knew there was something more in me, something different. They tried to hold me back.”

  “They?” Eve prompted.

  “My parents. But I could always get what I wanted, make people do what I wanted—or pay. I knew I didn’t get the more from them. They’re nothing. Ordinary. And when … when I found out where I’d gotten it, I was happy. At last. I’ve finished playing the game, pretending to give a shit. People needed to pay.”

  “Joe Cattery, Carly Fisher.”

  With a cagey smile, Callaway folded his arms. “Immunity.”

  “I can’t authorize that.” Reo put a little squeak in her voice. “My boss has to—”

  “The HSO offer takes precedence over assistants,” Teasdale said, smugly. “Once Mr. Callaway has given me the information necessary, I’m authorized to make him that offer. People needed to pay,” she repeated to Callaway. “And you had the means.”

  “I had what I needed. Cattery, Fisher, they’d pushed the wrong buttons, hadn’t they? Messed with the wrong person, and for the last time. That’s what I can bring to the table,” he told Teasdale. “I
’ve got the means and the brains to make HSO the most powerful agency on-or off-planet.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “What’s the offer? Spell it out.”

  “That depends on what you tell me, and what can be proven. I can tell you HSO is very interested and intrigued by your—alleged—talents.”

  “Bureaucratic bitch,” Eve muttered, and got a cool smile from Teasdale.

  “You’ve been outmaneuvered, Lieutenant. If, of course, Mr. Callaway elects to cooperate with us.”

  “I’m going to have terms,” Callaway told Teasdale.

  “We can certainly discuss terms, but we require proof you had not only the means, but did, in fact, execute these incidents.”

  “They all did what I wanted, didn’t they? What I made them do. Everyone in that bar, in that crappy café danced to my tune. That’s what you’ll get with me,” he told Teasdale. “Someone who gets the job done.”

  “What did you make them do, Mr. Callaway?” Teasdale asked.

  “Kill each other. Slaughter. Live their fears and die fighting. It was all there in the journals, my grandfather’s papers. His crazy religious angle? You don’t have to worry about that from me. I’m not crazy, and I don’t believe in anything but myself.”

  “That’s important. My superiors will want to be assured of just that.”

  “Idiot Joe, sitting there, moping for his wife and brats. And I thought, you won’t mope much longer, asshole. I wanted Weaver, too, but she left, skipping out to have sex. I settled for Joe, and the rest of them. That fucking bartender, the bitch of a waitress, that stupid woman and her friends. All I had to do was put the vial in her pocket when she bumped into me. Already opened. It takes a few minutes to take effect, and I timed it right down to the heartbeat. That’s how good I am. Got a little headache, but that’s all. I was out in the air before it took hold. And I just kept walking.”

  “You made the substance yourself?”

  “It’s tricky,” he said with a nod at Teasdale. “Not that hard to come up with the ingredients, especially if you take your time. I had to build the lab. It’s small. I wouldn’t mind playing around with other ideas in a better lab. I’ve got a knack.” He tapped his chest with his thumb. “I guess I got it from the old man.”

  “I’ll pass that on,” Teasdale replied.

  “I think I can improve it, so it lasts longer, starts faster. The second hit would’ve been better if the effects had taken hold quicker. Once the cops got there, started stunning people, it cut down on the count.”

  “How did you choose the second location?”

  “For that bitch Fisher. She thought she was going to climb over my back? Her and Weaver, always plotting and planning out to hold me back.” He sliced his hands like an umpire calling the runner safe. “That’s done.”

  “And the second accomplishment. How was it done?”

  “I wasn’t going to go in. It would give the cops a reason to look at me. See, I think things through, figure the angles. I just waited for the delivery girl. Dumb as a bag of hair, that one. I stopped her, asked her to order me a sandwich, grab me a table. Said I had to run into the drug store, but I’d be right there. Gave her a thank-you hug, stuck the open vial in her pocket. Done and finished. I grabbed that pita and strolled on back to the office.”

  “Where were you hitting next?” Eve asked. “Indulge me.”

  “Why not? There’s an Italian restaurant down from the office. Appetito. Weaver goes there a lot. All I’d have to do is check her book, see when she’s taking some fuck there for foreplay. I made friends with one of the waitresses. I’d use her for delivery. With those three out, I’d move up, take over for Weaver. Now they can suck me. Their loss is HSO’s gain.”

  “It is indeed,” Teasdale agreed.

  “Is that enough, Reo?” Eve asked.

  “Oh, I’d say that, served on a silver platter.”

  “Peabody, get a couple of uniforms to help you take Lew through processing. I don’t believe he’s going to feel very cooperative.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Screw that.” He tipped back, smirked at Eve as Peabody slipped out. “I’m not doing any time, even overnight. I’m with the HSO.”

  “What you are, Callaway, is deeply stupid.”

  “What you are, bitch, is fucked. When do I meet the head men, Agent?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Callaway, if I gave the impression the offer would precede you serving out your sentences. The HSO does believe you’ll be very useful to us—should there be a medical miracle and you survive one hundred and twenty-seven life sentences. And we feel you’ll be very useful serving approximately the same amount of additional time in a federal institution.”

  “This is bullshit. You said—”

  “I believe the record will show I gave no specific details on this offer. In any case, lying during Interview or interrogation is accepted—even encouraged. I believe, Mr. Callaway, it’s you who are fucked. I’m very happy to have played a small part in it.”

  Eve braced when he surged to his feet. “Please try it. My turn,” she said to Teasdale. But even as she spoke, Peabody came in with two uniforms.

  “Oh well, maybe next time.”

  “I want a deal.” He struggled against the vice grip on his arms.

  “Sure. Ask me after, say, seventy of those life sentences.” Reo smiled at him like a raptor. “We’ll talk.”

  “I want a lawyer!”

  “Let him contact a rep after processing,” Eve told Peabody. “Nice work, Agent.”

  “The same, Lieutenant. He was proud of it. You were right about that.”

  “Yeah, and ambitious. You were right with the HSO angle.”

  “I’ll report to my superior, handle the paperwork on my end.” Teasdale let out a long, windy breath. “Then I’d like a very big drink.”

  “I hear that. One thing. Is Menzini still alive?”

  “My information is he died a few months ago.”

  “Okay. I’ll be around.” She turned to Reo. “No deals, right?”

  “What’s to deal? He spelled it out. If he gets a decent lawyer, he’ll try for insanity or mental defect.”

  “He’s not insane nor defective,” Mira said. “I had a session with him right here, on record. He isn’t legally insane, and was perfectly aware what he did was wrong, immoral, illegal. There won’t be a health facility sentence here. It’s his conscience, his morals that are defective, not his mind.”

  “Good to hear. I’ll have all the records for you within the hour,” she told Reo.

  “I’ll wait. By the way, sex-me-up shoes?”

  “I was following a theme.”

  “Well.” Reo turned her ankles, looked down. “They are pretty fabulous.”

  “They are,” Mira agreed.

  “I was going to say the same about yours. What a terrific color.”

  “Could we not talk about shoes in the box that still smells of evildoer?”

  “You started it,” Reo reminded her before she turned back to Mira. “Do you have time to run through your findings on him? I’ll buy you a drink in the lounge.”

  “That sounds good. Eve?”

  “I’m going to deal with the paperwork.”

  She stepped out behind them, spotted Roarke with her commander.

  “Sir.”

  “Good work, Lieutenant. Excellent work.”

  “Thank you, sir. We had a good team who put a lot of hours into it, a lot of skill.”

  “Agreed. I’ll be addressing the team. We’ll be making an announcement to the media, holding a brief conference within the hour. You’ll need to be there.” He smiled at her, and for the first time in days, with a light in his eyes. “I realize that feels like punishment, but it’s important we inform the public, and you attend.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “After which I suggest you go home and enjoy your evening. I’m going to.”

  “I wonder if he means he’s going to have so much sex,” Roarke comm
ented when Whitney was out of earshot.

  “Please. Don’t put that image in my head. I need to see what you brought back from Callaway’s.”

  “Secured in your office, except for the electronics. Feeney’s got them in EDD. I wanted to watch you work this one, so I came down for a bit. But I’ll go back, give him some time. The bastard’s encrypted everything. It’s not overly complicated, but it’s going to take a little time to get all his notes and so on.”

  “Everything we can get adds to it, but I don’t think there’s a hurry. Still, I guess I’m going to be a couple hours.”

  “Just let me know when you’re ready to go. And we’ll enjoy our evening.”

  “I cracked that code,” she said as she split off to her office.

  20

  She stopped in the bullpen to speak to Sanchez and Carmichael. “Nice job before, on the grief-giving. You could be in vids.”

  Sanchez pinned her with a pointed stare. “Did you think I was acting?”

  She only lifted her eyebrows, pinned him in turn. “That or asking for a thirty-day rip.”

  Carmichael snorted. “Told you not to try it. The LT always wins, Sanchez. It’s why she’s the LT.”

  “Well, hell.” With a grin, Sanchez shrugged it off. “Is he down?”

  “Down and out. You can pass cases back to the others, just let me know who’s on the board.”

  “Can we give Baxter the bloater, cooking in his cat-infested apartment for eight days? I owe him some payback.”

  “Fine with me.”

  “Then it’s all worth it.”

  She left them for her office. Yeah, the new guy not only slid right in, she thought. He fit like he’d been there for years.

  She considered a moment, then engaged her ’link.

  “This is Nadine, make it quick. I’m in a production meeting.”

  “You’re going to want to step out for a minute.”

  A flicker of annoyance came first, then cleared. “I’ve got to take this. Keep going.”

  Eve waited while Nadine walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. “Tell me you made an arrest.”