Chapter 14
With the recently acquired knowledge of his general whereabouts in Sydney, Dane recognized the courthouse and police station complex on Liverpool Street when Kevin pulled into a drive. They wound around back to a special parking spot designated for the Chief Superintendent of Special Operations.
“Keep your head down and your mouth shut,” Kevin told him as he handed him a hat pulled from the console.
The ball cap was emblazoned with the logo of Sydney’s National League rugby team.
Dane pushed it onto his head and followed Kevin’s lead, getting out and following him inside a back door where the chief slid his ID card.
Walking at a brisk pace, Dane paid attention to their path, which wound through some back hallways past numerous unmarked doors and to a stairway where they rattled their way up to the third floor.
Two more turns and Kevin opened a locked wooden door, standing aside for Dane to precede him inside, then slamming the door shut behind them.
Dane could swear he heard the click of a latch locking them inside.
“We’re not in booking,” he said, offering an explanation. Dane wasn’t surprised when Chief Ivory took a seat behind his desk, ignoring him.
Dane sat in the hard wooden arm chair that looked older than Kevin Ivory did right now, which was ancient.
He couldn’t be more than ten years older than Dane, but the job had clearly taken a toll on him.
Or maybe it wasn’t the job, but something else.
Dane waited for Kevin to look up from his desk where he shuffled through a pile of five folders, putting them all aside until he got to the bottom.
Then he unlocked a desk drawer and took out a newer looking red folder emblazoned with Top Secret Clearance.
“You ready for questioning, Blaise? Have anything to confess before we go to the witness room where you’ll be in front of cameras?”
Dane remained quiet, remembering the man’s advice to keep his mouth shut. After a pause that wasn’t completely uncomfortable, Kevin rose and motioned for Dane to follow. As he walked by, he removed Dane’s new hat and tossed it onto a hat rack, where it landed neatly on an empty hook.
“Show-off.”
Dane sensed rather than saw Kevin’s smile. He wasn’t sure what the chief was up to, but his confidence grew in his instinct to trust the man.
Kevin marched him into a witness room after passing several detectives and other assorted unquestioning underlings. A man in plainclothes followed them inside and Kevin stopped him.
“I’ll be questioning this witness by myself, Deputy.”
After a brief curious look, the man nodded and walked away.
Dane was curious too, but he was determined not to show it. The chief was going to a lot of trouble to make this interrogation look official, but Dane would bet his right pinky it would be anything but.
“Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable.” Kevin went out of the room for no more than ten seconds and came back in with a pad of paper and pen.
He scribbled on the pad and sent it across the table for Dane. It said he had turned off the room’s video, but the audio couldn’t be turned off.
Dane didn’t necessarily believe him that the video was off, but it didn’t matter.
He had no plans to do or say anything for the moment.
He figured he ought to listen for a while.
They each sat back in their chairs, staring across the table and not speaking.
After several minutes, Kevin nodded. Dane felt a pulse of pleasure at out-waiting the man.
He took the pad of paper again and scratched on it, then slid it over for Dane to read.
This could be a very long, drawn-out interview at this rate, but Dane was up to it, even looking forward to it.
He wasn’t cuffed, wasn’t being forced to sit there, wasn’t being harassed.
All in all, this was one of the easiest interrogations he’d been subjected to.
So far. He opened his mind another crack to the possibility that Kevin was all the way on Shana’s side.
Up until now, he’d figured Kevin was their best bet for a fair hearing, but most likely neutral.
Now Dane’s intuition was sending him another message.
He pulled the pad of paper toward him and looked at it. He didn’t know what he’d expected to see, but he hadn’t expected what he saw written there. The two lines scrawled on the pad read:
I’m on a secret task force looking into Wade Grisk’s activities.
I believe Shana is innocent.
Now the only question was whether or not Dane believed Kevin enough to make the final leap.
If he went all in to trust him, and Kevin was telling the truth, it would make a big difference in clearing Shana from the mounting suspicion—not to mention clearing Dane from whatever charges Wade Grisk was about to trump up against him.
“I have the surveillance video from Sejuiced,” Dane finally said.
Kevin nodded. “Give it to me. I’ll set up a viewing while we speak. But we won’t have any audio so I’m not sure—”
“Yes, it will. We arranged for audio. The location wasn’t a random choice for my meeting with Chancy Peterson.”
Dane sat still for a beat of silence, while he watched Kevin do the same, watched him absorb what Dane had told him and assimilate the information. Watched as the implications dawned on Kevin. Watched closer for what Kevin’s reaction was, his true reaction, not the one he wanted Dane to see.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the flash drive Billy had given him, before Billy fled with Joe, one of the three copies.
Kevin would either be fearful about what might be on the video, or he’d be thrilled about what might be on the it. There would be different tells in his face and eyes, depending on how he felt.
He watched the corner of the detective’s mouth twitch before he allowed a closed smile, as if he were holding back excitement. Then Kevin removed his mask and allowed himself to show pleasure.
“That’ll make my job a hell of a lot easier, if it’s legitimate.”
“Of course it is.” Dane didn’t overreact to the detective’s hedging.
It was the first instinct of any good detective—any good cop—to hedge on the evidence.
Dane was still on the fence about Kevin, but he was leaning to the side of good cop.
He put on his Cheshire cat smile, not only because he wanted to appear confident, but because he was confident.
He said, “We can let the citizens of Sydney be the judges of how legitimate the video is.”
Detective Kevin Oliver’s mouth dropped from its hovering smile to a full-fledged frown with a trench between his eyes and all.
“What the hell are you talking about, Blaise?” Everything about Kevin appeared to tense up. Dane assumed the man liked to be in control and wouldn’t like the video being out on the street. That was too damn bad.
“The video is on its way to ABC News and should be aired,” Dane lifted his wrist to look at his watch, “in less than fifteen minutes.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.” The detective stood and would have spun from the room, but Dane stopped him.
“It’s also being posted to YouTube. On several well-known channels.
” Dane spoke in a cool, reasonable voice, squelching his natural talent for taunting.
“It’s probably out there already.” He mentally crossed his fingers that Joe and Billy had had no problem executing the plan to deliver the flash drive and that Billy’s friend had come through.
“From there I imagine it’ll get picked up by the rest of the news media in Sydney. Maybe even worldwide.”
Kevin sat back down in his chair and leaned forward, speaking with visible tension in his voice. “Blaise, you better not have f—ed up this case. That video had better be good and it better be legit.”
“You’ll find out soon enough. You have Chancy Peterson in another room?”
He nodded. “We’re holding him for questioning. We were waiting until after we spoke to you, after we watched the video—and heard it. You wore a mic?”
“Still am.”
Dane enjoyed the sudden draining of blood from the detective’s face because Dane was a bastard underneath it all.
“It’s not on. Not connected.”
Kevin leaned back in, his words tight. “I never wanted to throw a good guy in jail so badly as I want to toss you away right now.” He sat back and let out a breath.
“At least I’m not dull.”
Kevin looked at him with a menacing blank stare.
Dane watched his nostrils flare up, but otherwise, he looked under control.
He yanked the phone from his belt and punched in a number, telling someone to set up the video room for a private showing of highly sensitive, top-clearance material.
Then he sat back again. Dane decided to strike while he was soft.
“You need to call off the APB on Shana.”
Kevin shook his head. “Wish I could. Not my call.”
“Who do you answer to?”
Kevin didn’t answer him. Dane knew it had to be an agency outside of the New South Wales police force and mentally drudged up his knowledge about Australian national law enforcement agencies.
He decided Ivory would be working with the ACLEI—Australian Commission of Law Enforcement Integrity—or possibly the ACIC—Australian Criminal Intelligence Commission—maybe both, under the heading of public corruption.
There was a knock on the door and the same plainclothes cop waved Kevin over, saying they were ready to watch the video. He was about to leave without inviting Dane, but Dane got up from his seat and followed him. Kevin turned before closing the door.
“You stay put.”
“Not a f—ing chance.”
“You have no choice. This is my show now.” Dane didn’t like the smug way he said it, especially didn’t like the fact that it was true. Spinning his mind fast, he came up with an angle.
“Without me, you have no chain of evidence.”
Kevin scoffed.
“Not much of a chain—as of right now, you’re the perp.”