Connections in Death: An Eve Dallas Novel

by J. D. Robb

  “And if Cohen went into partnership with him, and Jones started cutting back on the percentage…”

  “Cohen might have gone into a partnership with someone else,” Eve finished. “Someone in the position to, and with the ambition to, take over if they could depose Jones.”

  This time Eve jabbed a finger on Jorgenson’s ID shot. “It’s going to be him. He wants the war. He wants to lead.”

  “If so, why not just kill Jones?”

  “A harder target, but that may be coming.” She polished off her coffee. “So. Time to get to it.”

  “I’m on tap if you need my awesome powers of persuasion.”

  They parted ways in the bullpen. From Trueheart’s desk—he and Baxter were on their way to the Sky Mall—Strong signaled Eve.

  “I know you want to get to Cohen, but I reached Ho’s sister’s ex-boyfriend. Good timing on that. Hugh Lanigan’s younger brother’s in his first year of college in Cambridge. Smart kid, got into Harvard. The parents moved to South Carolina a few months ago.”

  “You’re going to tell me Ho threatened his family, so he kept his mouth shut.”

  “You should be a detective. Stay away from my sister, or you’re dead. Go to the cops, and your little brother’s dead. And, hey, your mom looks pretty good. Be a shame if somebody messed up her face.”

  “Now Lanigan figures they’re out of reach so he can talk.”

  “He’s ready to file charges, testify, do whatever it takes to put Ho away. He talked to his family about it just a few days ago, and they’re behind him. He was just building up the guts for it.”

  “Reo’s in Observation. Go get her, set this up.”

  With a nod, Strong rose. “Dallas, if this goes our way, we’re going to put a hurting on two gangs. We won’t wipe them out, but they’ll hurt.”

  A nice side benefit, Eve thought as she tapped Peabody. “Let’s break this prick.”

  “Snap! We’re good with the feds?”

  “They’re with Vinn now.”

  She opened the door to Interview. If anything Cohen looked more miserable than he had that morning. “Record on. Dallas and Peabody resuming Interview with Cohen. I don’t see your legal representative, Sam. Should we go find him for you?”

  “On further consideration I’ve elected to represent myself in this witch hunt.”

  “Then, for the record, you’re waiving your right to an attorney?”

  “I am an attorney.”

  Eve merely sat, stared at him.

  “All right, yes.”

  “Okay then. And, for the record, we’re adding a third charge of accessory to murder.”

  “What? This is ridiculous. This is—this is bullshit!”

  “Aimes, Barry, age seventeen.” Eve mimed slitting her throat with her finger. “He’s one of the assholes you enlisted to kill Pickering and Duff. You know what’s bullshit, Sam? That there’s honor among thieves. There’s even less honor among murderers.”

  “I don’t even know this person.”

  Casual, confident, Eve rocked back in her chair. “You know, I don’t doubt you didn’t know his name. His name wouldn’t be important. Just that he do the job you wanted done. But you damn well know the name of the Banger who helped you set all this up. Give me the name, Sam. Even a half-assed attorney would advise his client to roll when he’s facing three counts of murder.”

  “Even a half-assed cop would know I’ve been in custody since last night and couldn’t have had anything to do with slitting some gang member’s throat.”

  “Gosh, Sam, you’ve forgotten all about accessory before the fact. You maybe need to hit the law books again. Add this: The newest dead guy was part of your conspiracy to murder, and is now dead due to his part in that conspiracy.”

  “Buy a clue,” Peabody added. “And give us the damn name. Even a half-assed murder suspect knows he who flips first gets the best deal.”

  At the hard, angry look Eve shot her, Peabody shrugged.

  “Come on, Dallas, he can’t be that dumb.”

  “What kind of deal? No, no,” Cohen said immediately. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t know anything about any of these killings. My partnership with Marcus Jones was real estate. How he earned his share of the investment has nothing to do with me. If he’s a criminal, arrest him!”

  “Maybe we’ll put you in Holding together,” Peabody speculated. “After we let him and the rest of the gang know why you’re in here.”

  “Terrible accidents do happen in Holding sometimes,” Eve added, shifting to Peabody. “Outside, too. Say, if somebody happened to make bail and got released, and word got out he’d spilled his guts to the cops … Terrible accident.”

  “You can’t do that!”

  “Do what?” Eve shifted back. “We’re just talking here.”

  “I’ve told you nothing. Those people are violent criminals.”

  “You should’ve thought of that before you threw in with them. And don’t start back up with the bullshit. Your records, for Christ’s sake. Your records show your percentage of profits from illegal activity committed by Jones and his gang. So, yeah, we’re going to wrap Jones up, using your records. And unless he hires an idiot for an attorney, he’ll find out where we got our information. It’s called discovery. Remember?”

  “A guy like Jones’ll probably break his spine for that alone,” Peabody put in. “Unless we work it so Jones can’t get to him. But we’ve got no incentive.”

  “Once we pull Jones in using the evidence gathered from Sam’s records, it’s done.” Eve lifted her shoulders, let them fall. “Those terrible accidents? They increase exponentially in prison.”

  Cohen’s eyes glittered, not from anger, but the beginning of tears. “This is my life you’re talking about.”

  “Three people in the morgue, you fuck. Every one of them had a life. And that doesn’t begin to count the scores of lives screwed up or ended because of your partner’s criminal activities, from which you profited.”

  “I—I need some water. I need some water. And I need to think.”

  “Dallas and Peabody exiting to get the subject water and allow him thinking time. You’ve got ten minutes. Pause interview.”

  “I’ll get the water,” Peabody said. “You want coffee?”

  “Pepsi.” Eve dragged out tokens for Vending. “Don’t use my code or the machines will spit out anything but.”

  “I thought he would spill it before now.”

  “First we had to break through his delusions—and they’re pretty damn strong—that he could wiggle out. We finally got there.”

  As Peabody walked to Vending, Eve saw Roarke come out of Observation.

  “I didn’t know you were here.”

  “Only just. It appears I missed much of the show, and another murder. And…” He skimmed a fingertip over the faint bruise on her jaw.

  She’d forgotten about it. “Come on, that doesn’t even show.”

  “I know that face, every inch. A fight with a suspect?”

  “No, and not a fight. A takedown. A street thief got in a glancing—and lucky—hit.” Now that Roarke had reminded her, it pissed her off all over again. “The fun never ends.”

  “And with all the fun, I’ll wager you’ve missed lunch.”

  “Been a little busy, and Vending sucks anyway.”

  With a shake of his head, he tapped a finger on the dent in her chin. “There’s food you’ll actually eat without complaint in your office AC.”

  “Right. I always forget. I’ll get something after I break this son of a bitch. I figure you’re here mostly because you feel sorry for Vinn, so I’ll tell you: She stood up. She has a lawyer, she’s cooperating with the feds, and apparently has a stripper pal who has her back and doesn’t take any crap.”

  “Glad to hear it. Peabody,” he said as she clomped back with the drinks. “You look both lovely and formidable.”

  Her eyes got a little sparkly as she passed Eve the tube of Pepsi. “Thanks. It’s been a day so
far.”

  “Plenty more to come.” Eve cracked the tube. “Before the end of it we’ll be busting a Dragon captain for aggravated assault, with a sweetener of threatening bodily harm. And we’ll bust Jones for a whole—what do they call that?—plethora of charges. Plethora. It’s got a ring.”

  She guzzled Pepsi. “And if we can finish breaking Cohen, somebody’s going down for murder in the first, three counts.”

  “That’s a very busy rest of the day,” Roarke commented. “I hope to join some of it. I have about an hour now, then some things to see to. If I don’t see you before, let me know when you start out.”

  So saying, he pulled a candy bar out of his pocket, broke it in half. “So the two of you keep your energy up.”

  “Loose pants or chocolate? Chocolate!” Peabody took the candy.

  Eve eyed it narrowly. “Did you get that from my office?”

  “I didn’t, no. I brought it with me on the suspicion my cop—or cops in this case—hadn’t eaten since breakfast.”

  “I had a mini oatmeal crunch power bar,” Peabody said. “This is better.”

  Eve studied the wrapper, noted it didn’t have the mark she’d put on her office stash. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t check her hidey-hole later.

  But for now she ate the chocolate, drank the Pepsi. And decided the quick energy boost couldn’t hurt. She handed Roarke the empty tube. “See you later.”

  “I’d wish you good luck in there, but from the little I’ve seen you have all you need.”

  She would have, Eve thought as she opened the door to Interview, when she pried the damn name out of Cohen.

  “Record on. Dallas and Peabody entering to resume interview.”

  She sat, noted Cohen’s eyes were a little red against a face paler than before. Fear could squeeze out a few tears.

  In one go he drank half the water Peabody set on the table.

  “You’ve had your water and your thinking time.”

  “I … Hypothetically. If I had information regarding certain criminal activities and enterprises, and volunteered this information to the authorities, would this result in immunity from any inadvertent connection to those activities?”

  “‘Immunity’? Are you serious?”

  “By providing this information—again, hypothetically—I’d put my life in danger. With immunity, I’d be able to relocate out of harm’s way.”

  An operator to the end, Eve thought. Just what she’d counted on. “You’re going to relocate to prison. Stop wasting my time.”

  “Information I provide could and should lead to the convictions of multiple violent criminals.” His voice took on a desperate edge now. “I’m sure the prosecuting attorney’s office would be interested in this information. By granting immunity on the gray area of my business practices, the PA, and the federal government, would break the back of a notorious gang.”

  Frowning, Eve sat back. “I’m not going to be able to work immunity, not with the feds or the PA. At the end of the day, the Bangers are pretty small change.”

  “Three murders,” Cohen insisted. “They want the people really responsible.”

  She frowned again, showing him the face of a cop conflicted between duty and dislike. And reluctantly letting duty win.

  “I can cite cooperation, and push harder if that cooperation leads to arrest and conviction, but immunity’s never going to happen. You’ve been cheating the federal government, Sam. They get really pissy about that.”

  He wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “If I knew the location of illegals with a street value of more than a hundred thousand dollars, and the equipment used to make false identifications and to conduct identity fraud, they might be less pissy.”

  Eve drummed her fingers on the table. “They might be marginally less pissy, but that won’t get you immunity.”

  Peabody leaned over to whisper in Eve’s ear, said the words “Witness Protection” just loud enough to carry.

  Eve drummed her fingers again, then leaned back to Peabody. With a nod, Peabody rose.

  “Peabody exiting Interview,” Eve said. “We might be able to deal down some of the charges, depending on the information. Are you going to stipulate that Eldena Vinn was unaware of your activities in this matter, had no knowledge of the fraud or tax evasion, was, in fact, duped into signing documents, and that you took her money for same under false pretenses? Otherwise,” Eve said when he hesitated, “the feds are going to haul her in and mine her for information, and that information’s going to add weight to the charges already against you.”

  “There’s no need for that. I can stipulate that I handled the household finances.”

  “Do better, or I won’t even step up to the plate much less go to bat for you.”

  “She was unaware. I was looking out for her financial interests.”

  Eyes flat and steady, Eve leaned toward him. “Cop to this, Cohen, or I walk out of here, go pick up Jones, and that’s the end of it.”

  “All right, all right. I used her, I’m not proud of it. It’s not my fault she didn’t read the papers I put in front of her.”

  “You defrauded her. You used funds you took from her under the guise of household expenses to fatten your own bank accounts and listed her income, without her knowledge, to secure loans for real property.”

  “I gave her a very good life,” he began, then stumbled over his words as Eve started to rise. “I lied to her. I’ll admit that. I used her income to secure loans without her knowledge. My records are very clear on what monies I took from her, and she can have it back. Minus, of course, reasonable living expenses.”

  A few tears did swirl in his eyes as Eve started to stand again. “All of it! She can have all of it. It’s not important. What does it matter? I’m prepared to give you information on much more. Valuable information. I’ll take Witness Protection.”

  As if on cue, the door opened to Peabody and APA Cher Reo.

  16

  “Detective Peabody entering Interview with APA Reo.”

  In her pretty pearl-gray suit, Reo sat, set down a cup of what Eve knew by the scent was her office coffee and a file.

  She smiled as if sitting down to a fancy lunch with a friend. The APA looked like an easy mark. Young, blond, pretty, slight build.

  No one noticed the fangs until after they’d sunk into their neck.

  “Cher Reo, Mr. Cohen, with the prosecutor’s office. I’m told you have information on gang activity and would like to proffer that for a deal regarding the various charges currently against you.”

  Seeing a mark rather than her fangs, Cohen reverted. “I want immunity from all charges, state and federal.”

  “Oh.” Reo batted her pretty eyes. “Oh dear, I’m afraid there’s been some miscommunication. Immunity isn’t on the table. Lieutenant, I’m at Central coordinating an assault charge. I can’t take time away from that to deal in fantasies. If Mr. Cohen gains a grip on reality, let me know.”

  “Just wait!”

  Reo smiled again. “Mr. Cohen, I realize you’re in a precarious situation, but there are only so many hours in a day. I simply can’t waste any of mine.”

  “Wait!”

  He snapped it out. The same tone, Eve thought, he’d used when telling Eldena Vinn to be quiet.

  It wouldn’t work here, either.

  Reo glanced at her wrist unit, back at Cohen with the bitter cold of January. “Sixty seconds, starting now.”

  Eve decided he’d felt the first bite of the fangs when his tone turned wheedling.

  “I can help you break the back of the Banger gang. You’d be able to confiscate thousands of dollars’ worth of illegals, and weapons, and equipment. I can’t go to prison. I might be killed! I want Witness Protection.”

  “Mr. Cohen, Witness Security is a federal program. I’m an assistant prosecutor for New York.”

  “You can work it,” he insisted. “You can get the deal. The feds are going to confiscate the real estate and the funds anyway. Why c
are if I go to prison? Why care if I can give them bigger, a lot bigger, than me? I’m a legal consultant, that’s all.”

  Reo’s eyes widened as she picked up her coffee. “Like a consigliere?”

  “Yes. No.” He swiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “I consult, advise, that’s all.”

  “And you claim, in that capacity, to have valuable knowledge that will lead to arrests and convictions?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Example?”

  “I need a deal.”

  “Oops, ticktock.” Another glance at her wrist unit. “I need an example. Demonstrate your knowledge, and we can talk deal. Otherwise…”

  “There’s an electronics shop on Broome—or was. When they refused to pay an increased protection fee, Jones ordered the place hit. A couple Molotov cocktails right before closing. The owner was still inside. He got out with minor injuries, but he lost everything.”

  “And how did you come by this knowledge?”

  “After the fact.” Earnestly now, Cohen patted his hands at the air. “Of course I’d have advised against destroying property, endangering lives. After the fact, one of the gang—Rufus Miller—was arrested. There was a witness who claimed they saw him light the place up. I was called in as his representative.”

  “When did this take place?”

  “Last November.”

  Reo took out her PPC, keyed into it, scrolled. “Hmm. I see the witness recanted.” Reo spent another minute scrolling. “I also see an Amber Alert on the witness’s eight-year-old daughter, who was abducted on her way home from school—on the very day of Miller’s arrest. She was returned, unharmed and unable to give any information on her abductor.”

  Another hint of fang showed now as Reo smiled. “Coincidence?”

  Looking away, Cohen tugged at the neck of his jumpsuit. “I only know the witness recanted.”

  All three women remained silent, beat after beat.

  “Okay, okay. Jones ordered it. He ordered the kid wasn’t to be hurt, just scared. It was only a few hours. That’s an example. I need a deal, in writing, before I give you more. Bigger.”

  “Bigger than firebombing, kidnapping, witness intimidation? My, my.”