Chapter Thirty
Avery came through a door and seemed shocked to see her waiting for him. “What’re you doing here? I told you I’d call you.”
“I wanted to save you some time.”
His skeptical expression let her know he saw right through her bullshit.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” she asked with a big smile.
“Of course. Come on back.”
She followed him to a corner office at the end of a long hallway. If possible, his office was smaller and less attractive than hers, and that was saying something.
“Have a seat.”
She took note of a photo of Shelby on his desk. “How’s she doing?”
“Pretty good. The baby was fussy overnight, so neither of us got much sleep.”
“I didn’t think you’d be working today.”
“I’m taking time off when they come home.”
“Are they going home to your place?”
His expression remained neutral when he said, “For now.”
“What’s going on with Nelson?”
“My deputy and one of our other top people are bringing him in now.”
“You didn’t want in on that?”
“I had to stay here and smooth things over with the acting FBI director and the attorney general, who’re melting down over us arresting the president’s son because of information we got from a career criminal.
They weren’t going to allow us to bring him in until the lab got a hit on a partial print on the letter that linked Christopher Nelson to the threat. ”
“I knew it!” Sam wished she could stand up and dance a jig.
She loved when scumbags fucked up and implicated themselves in felonies.
With her hip aching like a bastard, there would be no jig dancing today, but she was celebrating on the inside.
Nothing made her happier than seeing justice done on behalf of murder victims, especially those she’d known personally.
Sam’s cell phone rang with a call from Gonzo. “Speak to me.”
“There’s a deposit for twenty-five grand in the account of Nicoletta Bernadino made three days ago.”
Another reason to dance a jig. “And the source?”
“A personal account belonging to Stanley Ritter.”
“Bull’s-eye. Good work, Gonzo.” Sam ended the call and passed the info to Avery.
“Arrogant motherfuckers. Never thought they’d get caught.”
“They didn’t bank on me.”
His desk extension rang, and he took the call. “Would you please bring him back? Thank you.” To Sam he said, “Your partner is here.”
“I figured he’d catch up eventually.”
“Thanks for waiting,” Freddie said with annoyance when he was shown in.
“I’m doing what I was told and resting my hip.”
“Did you get that looked at?” Avery asked.
“Yep, and apparently I’m going to survive.”
“That’s good news,” Avery said. When his extension rang again, he picked it up, listened for a minute and then replied.
“All right. I’m coming.” To Sam and Freddie he said, “Nelson’s lawyer is here, and my people are executing search warrants for Nelson’s home, office, bank records, cell phones and computers. ”
“Of course he lawyered up. God forbid he should have to face the music on his own.” She eyed Avery, taking note of his obvious exhaustion. “Do you have the wherewithal to go for the jugular here?”
His golden eyes flashed with anger. “Are you questioning my abilities, Lieutenant?”
“Not at all. I’m merely pointing out that you’ve had an unusually draining few days, and you may not have the stomach to go toe-to-toe with the president’s son, who you may have to charge with multiple felonies.”
“My stomach is fine, thank you very much. How’s yours?”
Sam didn’t show any reaction to his reference to yesterday’s puking incident. “As a federal employee, are you going to be able to ask him if his father is involved?”
“As a federal agent, I’ll have no problem asking every question that needs to be asked.”
“You’ve got to nail him to the wall, Avery,” Sam said fiercely.
“That’s the plan.”
Avery had done his homework. He hit the pompous son of the president hard and fast from the first minute of the interview, coming at him with things he’d written and said on behalf of the policy think tank he represented.
He’d taken great pleasure in deriding the young vice president who’d quickly eclipsed his father in the popularity rankings.
“In fact,” Avery said, “were you not quoted two months after Vice President Cappuano took office as saying he was vastly ‘overrated’ and ‘underqualified’ to be president should the need arise?”
From the observation room, Sam watched Nelson intently, taking note of his every expression.
“It’s a free country,” Nelson said. He had the blond good looks that had helped to carry him through his entitled life.
On the third finger of his left hand was a big gold wedding ring.
Sam wondered about his wife and whether she knew what her husband had been up to.
“I wasn’t aware that expressing an opinion would get me hauled into the Hoover Building for questioning.
” He gave his lawyer a smug smile that the lawyer returned.
Sam hated guys like them—rich, entitled, above the law, or so they thought. She approved of how Avery was going about this, saving the biggest gun in his arsenal for last. He’d let Nelson string himself up with his own words and then knock the legs out from under his cocky ass.
“Did you express your disapproval of your father’s choice before Vice President Cappuano’s name was sent to Congress?”
Nelson appeared to give that some considerable thought. “I might’ve suggested that we could do better.”
“Apparently, he disagreed,” Avery said.
“Apparently.”
Sam flipped open her phone and put through a call to Nick’s chief of staff, Terry O’Connor. He answered on the second ring.
“Hi, Sam.”
“Terry, I need a favor.”
“Of course. What can I do for you?”
“Who do we know in Congress who could tell you whether or not Christopher Nelson campaigned against Nick’s nomination for vice president behind the scenes?”
“I have a couple of people I could call.”
“Could you do it in a way that wouldn’t raise any red flags?”
“I believe I could. Do you mind if I ask why?”
“You’ll know soon enough. Can you get right back to me?”
“I’m on it.”
“Thanks, Terry.”
“Good thinking,” Freddie said.
“We’ll see.”
“Were you angry that your father chose a vice president you didn’t approve of?” Avery asked Nelson.
“I wasn’t angry. I was more disappointed. I thought we could do a hell of a lot better than a first-term senator who was better known for who he married than anything he’d done on behalf of the American people.”
“I resemble that remark,” Sam said.
Freddie laughed. “Now he’s just being mean.”
“In light of your feelings about Vice President Cappuano, it must’ve been galling to see his approval and popularity ratings reach record highs soon after he took office.”
“Did they? I didn’t notice.”
“Why don’t I believe that?”
“Good going, Avery,” Sam said, leaning forward for a better view of the action. “Stick his feet in the fire.”
“As part of our investigation, we’ll be confiscating your computer,” Avery said. “Are you telling me we won’t find any sign of you searching for info about the vice president or watching the polls or anything else having to do with him or his family?”
For the first time, Nelson began to appear slightly uncomfortable. “They can’t take my computer, can they?” he asked his lawyer.
“You bet your pampered ass we can,” Sam said.
“If they have a warrant, they can take it,” the lawyer said glumly.
“Is it my imagination, or is Nelson’s tan fading by the second?” Sam asked Freddie.
“It’s not your imagination. He’s getting rather pale.”
“What’re we going to find on your computer, Mr. Nelson?” Avery asked.
Nelson had no reply for that question.
Avery pushed a piece of paper across the table. “Are we going to find a letter that was sent to the vice president’s office threatening his family, particularly the children?”
Nelson stared at the paper while his lawyer stared at him, seeming shocked.
“I wish I’d thought to bring popcorn,” Sam said. “A show like this requires snacks.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” Freddie said. “Popcorn would’ve been nice.”
“Are we going to find communication on your computer with the person you paid to follow members of the Cappuano and Holland families to get these photographs of the children?” Avery asked, placing the photos in front of Nelson.
“How about the man you hired to rough up the second lady’s ex-husband?
Will we find phone calls and texts that tie you to him?
How about communication with the producer and reporter who put together the interview with the vice president’s mother?
Will we find any trace of money being transferred from you to Nicoletta Bernadino?
Will we find anything tying you to the so-called interview Peter Gibson did before he was murdered?
And before you say you had nothing to do with any of that, you should know that we’re taking your boy Stan’s computer, too. ”
Nelson remained stubbornly silent in the face of the mounting evidence of his guilt.
“Are you aware that threatening the lives of the sitting vice president and his family is a capital felony punishable by up to life in prison?”
Nelson blanched, as if the possibility of spending the rest of his life in prison had never occurred to him. “I want a deal.”
The lawyer snapped out of his state of shock. “Christopher—”
“I want a fucking deal!”
Avery leaned in and waited until Nelson was looking directly at him. “No. Deal.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! You people are always making deals. I’ll give you the guy who killed Peter Gibson. You’ll give me a deal. That’s how it’s done.”
“Newsflash, asshole,” Avery said. “We’ve already got the guy who killed Gibson. How do you think we got to you?”
“You’re committing career suicide, Agent Hill. My father owns the AG and Tom Forrester. They’ll never take this to court. You’ve got nothing on me.”
Avery slid the letter received by Nick’s office across the table. It was encased in a plastic document protector. “We’ve got your partial print on the letter that was sent to the vice president’s office. Game, set, match.”
“Ohhh,” Sam said. “Checkmate.” She and Freddie exchanged high fives. Despite her euphoria at seeing another arrogant son of a bitch brought to justice, she still felt hollow inside knowing that Peter had been killed because of her.
“What was the point?” Avery asked. “What did you hope to accomplish?”
Christopher stared at him, a mulish expression on his face.
“They wanted to discredit the vice president so Christopher could run for the Democratic nomination in four years,” Avery’s deputy, George Terrell, said.
“It wasn’t like your father could choose you to be his new vice president.
” Terrell let that sink in for a second before he continued.
“Your buddy Stan rolled on you, Christopher. He even told us about the exploratory committee you’ve put together for your own run for president, which has been met with little enthusiasm due to Vice President Cappuano’s stunning popularity.
Such a pity. All that plotting and scheming for something that’s never going to happen now. ”
Christopher’s face turned a worrisome shade of red. “That’s a bunch of lies. Stan wouldn’t dare turn on me.”
“Oh, he definitely would when faced with the choice of doing hard time or cooperating,” Terrell said.
“And he told us how, in addition to Vice President Cappuano interfering with your own ambitious plans, you couldn’t stand seeing his popularity eclipse your father’s.
How you wanted him ‘brought down’ and how you hoped he would quit rather than see his family threatened. Any of that ring a bell?”
His lips tight with fury, Christopher stared at the wall.
“It must’ve made you some kind of mad to watch the country fall in love with its new vice president and second family,” Avery said. “And to watch your own aspirations go down the toilet as his popularity soared.”
Christopher had no reply to that.
Avery stood and nodded to Terrell, who stepped forward with handcuffs.
“Mr. Nelson, you’re under arrest for threatening the lives of the vice president of the United States, the second lady of the United States and their extended family, as well as the murder-for-hire of Peter Gibson.
You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right—”
“Save it.” Nelson said. “I know my rights. I’m a fucking lawyer, for Christ’s sake.”
“Not for much longer,” Avery said. “I’m sure you’ll be hearing from the bar about the felony charges that’ll be filed against you later today in federal court.”
Terrell hauled Nelson to his feet and cuffed him while the lawyer looked on in stunned silence.
“And that my friends,” Sam said, gleefully rubbing her hands together, “is a wrap.”