"Chief Tibble." Whitney got to his feet, very nearly gave into the urge to step between them like a referee at a boxing match. "Lieutenant Dallas is right."
Tibble swung his searing gaze onto Whitney. "Do you think I don't know she's right? For Christ's sake, Jack, I've carried tin longer than she's been alive. I know she's right. I also know we'll be digging ourselves out of the fallout for months once this hits. Transvestite terrorist. Sweet Jesus, can you imagine what the media will do with it?"
"The media doesn't concern me."
Tibble turned to Eve. "If you want to climb up the ladder, it better. You'd be wearing bars now if you paid more attention to perception and image. You've made choices that have prevented you from being the youngest female captain in the NYPSD."
"Harry."
Tibble waved off Whitney's quiet objection, turned away again. "I'll apologize for that. This has blindsided me. I work with the man. I can't say we're friends, but we're certainly friendly. I know his family. I believed I knew him. I'd like some coffee. Black, no sugar. If you don't mind."
Eve said nothing, didn't trust herself to speak. Instead she walked into the kitchen, programmed the AutoChef while temper warred with training.
They could take their captain's bars and shove them.
She came back in. As Tibble was once again facing the window, she set his coffee on her desk, then handed Whitney a second cup.
"Am I ordered to ignore the evidence that has come into my hands and detour from the investigative route that leads to Mayor Steven Peachtree?"
"I have no doubt, Lieutenant," Tibble said with his back to the room, "that were I to issue that order you would disobey said command or throw your badge in my face. As I believe you're angry enough at the moment to choose the latter, I'll apologize once again."
"I had no right to personalize this, nor to take my frustrations out on you. I will say there are shades of right, Lieutenant Dallas, and the higher you climb, the more shades there are, and the deeper they get."
"I'm aware of the difficulty of the situation, and your position, Chief Tibble."
"But mostly you think it's bullshit." He spread his lips in the grin that had terrified both cop and criminal over the years. He walked over, picked up his coffee, and drank. "And mostly you're right. No, Lieutenant, you are not ordered to ignore the evidence that came into your hands."
Without thinking, he sat behind her desk. "I am asking you to delay that interview until I speak with the mayor. Any portion of the conversation that is salient to your investigation will be relayed to you. It's not just the man, but the office. The office requires some respect and protection. I hope you can trust me to separate man from office and conduct this preliminary questioning personally."
"I believe you're more than capable of handling such questioning, sir. How do you want me to handle the other individuals identified on the videos?"
"Discreetly. I need copies of those vids, your notes, and files."
"I have them available for you."
He took the evidence bag she offered. "Jack, it looks like we're going to start the day with some porn."
"I ended mine with it," Eve said and made Tibble roar with laughter.
"Job's never dull."
"How much am I cleared to tell my team?"
"Trust is a two-way street. I leave that to you." He rose. "If Peachtree's part of this, we'll take him down. You have my word on it." He held out a hand.
"We'll take them all down, sir. You've got mine on that."
***
After they'd left, Eve called Peabody into her office.
"Sit down," she ordered, then as Tibble had done, she took the position of command behind her desk. "New data has come to light that may have a direct bearing on this investigation. I'm not free to share all the details of this data with you at this time, but you'll be accompanying me today on what will be a number of sensitive interviews. Until I give you clearance, you're to say nothing of this to other team members."
"You're not bringing the team in?"
"Not at this time. This is Code Five. Any record I order you to make will be sealed."
Peabody choked back the dozen questions leaping to her tongue. "Yes, sir."
"Before we start on this new round of interviews, we'll do a followup with Dukes. He needs a push. And I figure to round off the day with Price and Dwier. Like, I don't know, bookends."
"Is what's between the bookends connected to the whole?"
"It's all connected. I'll fill you in, as much as I'm able, on the way to the Dukes."
***
"Blackmail," Peabody said at the first stoplight on route. "Greene sure had his fingers in a lot of nasty pies."
"Lucrative pies. Raked in over three million annually with this scam."
"You think Purity infected him because of the blackmail?"
"Yeah, I do. Look at the others. Those were child predators. Greene, he dealt some in the adolescent arena, but the bulk of his clientele and employees were adults."
"You said you thought Purity would start expanding their criteria."
"And they will. Not this soon. There are plenty more in Fitzhugh's ilk to keep them busy. Greene teeters on the line. I think someone, maybe more than one, had personal reasons for wanting Greene dead. Eliminating another scumbag was a factor, but ditching a blackmail payment, and the threat of exposure, makes a real nice bonus. But it was stupid. A mistake. Killing the blackmailer before you destroy the evidence that ties you to him."
"Can you tell me if Dukes was on the blackmail list?"
"No. But he knows how it's done. He knows who's been infected or scheduled for infection. He's part of the foundation, so we shake him. Or his wife. She's a weak point."
"You think she'll roll on him?"
"She might, if she's scared enough. She's not a player, but she knows Dukes-his schedule, his habits. How else could she tailor the household to suit him? And if he thinks we're pushing her, he might get pissed enough to slip up. He's got a hot button."
Eve hunted up a parking spot, then jaywalked diagonally across the street toward the Dukes's residence. The first thing she noticed were the wilted flowers by the door.
"They're gone."
Peabody followed the direction of Eve's cold stare. "Maybe she forgot to water them."
"No, she wouldn't forget. Probably has a daily duty list. Damn it. Damn it." She rang the buzzer anyway, waited, rang again.
"Curtains are still at the windows." Peabody craned her neck to see inside. "Furniture's still in there."
"They left it. Got out fast. They were probably packed and gone within twenty-four hours of our first visit."
She started working the street, knocking on doors until one opened for her. She offered her badge to a snowy-haired woman in a pink tracksuit.
"Is something wrong? Has there been an accident? My husband-"
"No, ma'am. Nothing's wrong. I'm sorry to alarm you. I'm looking for some of your neighbors. The Dukes. They don't answer their door."
"The Dukes." She patted her hair as if to stir her thoughts. "I'm not sure I... oh, of course. Of course. I saw the story on the media report. Oh dear, you're the policewoman they're going to sue."
"I don't believe any legal action has been taken as yet. Do you know where they are?"
"Goodness. I don't really know them. Pretty young woman. I'd see her walking to the market every Monday and Thursday. Nine-thirty. You could set your wrist unit by her. But now that you mention it, I don't know the last time... They lost their older son, didn't they? They only moved in two years ago. I never knew a thing about it. They didn't really talk to any of the neighbors. Some people never do. It's a terrible, terrible thing to lose a child."
"Yes, ma'am."
"I'd see him come and go now and then. Didn't look like a very kind sort of man. On Sundays they'd all go out together. Ten o'clock sharp. To church, I imagine from the way they were dressed. Back by twelve-thirty. You never saw the boy playing outside, with o
ther children. I never saw another child go into that house."
She sighed, staring across the street now. "I suppose they kept him close, afraid something would happen to him, too. Hold on, there's Nita coming out. My jogging partner."
She waved wildly at the woman who came out of a building directly across the street. She, too, wore a track-suit. In powder blue.
"Nita doesn't miss a trick," the other woman said out of the corner of her mouth. "You ask her about them."
"Getting yourself arrested?" Nita said cheerfully when she joined them. "Better lock her up tight, Officer. Sal's a slippery one."
"We'll talk about slippery later," Sal told her. "They're asking about the Dukes. Two doors down from you."
"They went on a trip a couple days ago. Loaded up the car with suitcases. Wife wasn't too happy about it, if you ask me. She'd been crying. That would've been... let me think. Wednesday. Wednesday morning, bright and early. I was out front watering my pots when I saw them loading up."
"Did you notice anyone visiting them prior to that?"
"Saw you," Nita said with a grin. "The morning before. Got the commandant pretty stirred up from what I saw on-screen later."
"Nita."
"Oh, stop fussing, Sal. I didn't like the man and I'm not afraid to say so out loud."
She waved a hand and settled herself in as if for a nice, friendly chat. "I had an old cocker spaniel, old Frankie. Died last year. A few months before I was out walking him like I did every day, twice a day. Stopped in front of the Dukes place for a minute to talk to a neighbor who was out walking, too. And well, old Frankie did his business there on the edge of their property while I wasn't watching."
She sighed, one long expulsion of air. "Old Frankie. Now I'd've cleaned it up. I cleaned up behind that dog for sixteen years. But the commandant comes to the door and gives me what-for, says he's going to report me. Carries on so you'd think he'd never seen a little poop before. Well, I gave him what-for right back. I don't take that kind of thing from anybody."
She huffed out a breath, obviously still outraged. "He slams the door, I pick up the poop, finish walking old Frankie, and go home. Few minutes later, the beat cop's at my door. Young woman, looked mortified, told me Dukes had called in a complaint. Can you imagine that? Since I'd already flushed away the evidence, nothing came of it. The cop just wanted to let me know he was seeing red, said she'd cooled him off, but maybe it would be best all around if I made sure to keep the dog away from his property."
"Is that the only dealing you had with him?"
"Never spoke another word to the man, nor he to me."
"They lost a child," Sal reminded her. "It can sour a person."
"Some are born sour." Nita nodded to the house across the street. "I'd say that man was."
***
Eve conducted the first three interviews on Greene's list in the privacy of each subject's home or office. In each case there were varying degrees of denial, outrage, embarrassment, and pleading.
And in the case of Judge Vera Archer, a cold acceptance.
"I'd prefer to continue this discussion without the presence of your uniform, Lieutenant Dallas."
"Peabody, wait outside."
Archer folded her hands on her desk. Her chambers was a streamlined, organized space that suited her image. She was a tall, sternly attractive, rail-thin woman of sixty-three, with short, straight dark hair. She had a reputation for delivering swift and thorough decisions that rarely failed to hold up on appeal.
She brooked no theatrics in her courtroom.
Apparently, Eve thought, she enjoyed them in private. On disc she'd worn a pink ballgown, and had performed a rather glamorous striptease-down to g-string and pasties-for two well-muscled men as a prelude to a very athletic menage a trois.
"I assumed I'd be dealing with this when I heard Nick Greene had been killed. My private life isn't up for discussion. No laws were broken by me, other than those of common sense."
"Yet you paid Nick Greene seventy-five hundred dollars a month."
"I did. It's not illegal to pay such a fee. And if we determine it was blackmail, the crime was his in extorting such a fee. I'm not going to explain the contents of the disc, nor the motivation behind those contents. I'm entitled to my privacy."
"Yes, Your Honor, and you certainly paid enough for it. However, the contents of that disc, and your payments, are now part of a homicide investigation."
Archer's gaze never wavered. "I was better off with him alive. I could afford the money a great deal more than I can afford the publicity from exposure. The embarrassment to my robes, my husband. I made full disclosure of this matter to my husband nearly a year ago. You can verify that if you deem it necessary, but it is, again, a private matter. I will tell you we agreed to continue the payments."
"You're aware of the circumstances of Nick Greene's death?"
"I am."
"While I sympathize with your desire for privacy, Your Honor, that sympathy doesn't extend over my pursuit of the terrorists who are responsible for his death, and the death of six others to date."
"And how will exposing the contents of that disc aid your pursuit? I must have the respect of my courtroom when I'm on the bench. You pursue, you arrest, but then it's up to the courts to complete the cycle of justice. How can I do that if I'm a laughingstock, an embarrassment?"
"I'll do whatever I can to protect your privacy. Tell me how you came to use Nick Greene's services."
Archer rolled her lips inward into a nearly invisible line. "I'd heard about him through an acquaintance. It seemed harmless, and though his services were admittedly borderline, I made use of them. A release valve, you could say, from the pressures of the job. I made use of them once a month for several months. Then he gave me a copy of the disc, explained the payment schedule and the consequences of nonpayment. All very reasonable and businesslike."
"You must have been very angry."
"I was angry. More, I felt like a fool. A woman who's lived for more than sixty years, sat on a bench for fourteen, shouldn't be so easily duped. I paid, because one always pays for foolishness, and I stopped using his services."
"Were you afraid he would expose you anyway?"
She angled her head in mock surprise. "And cut off a small but steady income? No."
"Did he ever up the payments or threaten to do so?"
"No. In his way, he was a good businessman. If you bleed too fast and hard, you eviscerate."
Archer lifted her hands, the only excess motion she'd made throughout the interview. "I didn't even resent the payments. They reminded me I was human. Which is why I used his services to begin with. I needed to be reminded I was human. You've done a background on me. Personal, professional?"
"Yes, Your Honor, an initial run."
"I've served the law, and served it well. My record bears that out. I'm not ready to retire." She glanced over at the small viewing screen on her wall. "I saw the broadcast on 75 this morning. It was a vicious, horrible death they chose for him. He was a blackmailer, and he peddled in what could be called sin, certainly exploited people's secret weaknesses. But he didn't deserve to die as he did. Nor did that child."
She looked at Eve again, her gaze direct and level. "You suspect that I may be a part of these vigilantes calling themselves pure? They stand for everything I abhor, Lieutenant. Everything I've dedicated my life to fighting against. They're bullies and cowards playing God. I'm willing to waive legal representation at this time and submit to a Truth Test. My conditions are that this be done privately, by a single authorized and licensed technician, and that when the results clear me of suspicion, they, as well as the disc and any files pertaining to me in this matter, are sealed."
"I'll agree to those conditions and will arrange it. I can ask Dr. Mira to do the Testing personally."
"Dr. Mira is acceptable."
"I believe the results will put an end to your involvement in this matter, Your Honor."
"Thank you."
"Can I ask your advice and opinion on another matter connected to my investigation?"
"Yes."
"I have requested warrants to open sealed files on juvenile victims that directly pertain to this case. Child Services filed a TRO blocking me from these records and from additional records of their agency. The prosecutor's office engaged in the standard legal wrangle over this. The block remains."
"Sealeds, particularly in the case of minors, are sensitive issues."
"So is serial homicide. So is terrorism. So is obstructing a priority investigation. Time is of the essence, yet an essential tool is being held out of my reach. This isn't a matter of opening sealeds to the public, but to an investigator with probable cause. If this matter was before you, how would you rule?"
J D Robb - Dallas 15 - Purity in Death Page 30