Chapter Twenty-Three #2
Sam, Freddie and Malone stepped into the interrogation observation room, joining Chief Farnsworth and Tom Forrester.
Sam couldn’t remember the last time the U.S.
Attorney himself had come to HQ to observe an interrogation.
Assistant U.S. Attorney Faith Miller was also there and greeted Sam with a sympathetic smile.
Hill appeared in the doorway. “Is everyone here?”
Farnsworth nodded.
Sam made eye contact with Hill, hoping she was conveying everything she needed to tell him without saying a word that could compromise the case.
Hill gave a subtle lift of his chin to let her know he understood the magnitude of what he was about to do and how much it meant to her and so many others.
Then he turned and headed into the room where Conklin sat with his attorney.
Dressed in the orange jumpsuit that prisoners wore in the city jail and sporting stubble on his jaw, Conklin barely resembled the top-ranking cop they were used to seeing at HQ every day.
In his younger years, he’d been blond, but now his hair was thinning on top and was mostly gray. His face was pinched with strain, which Sam found enormously satisfying. Good, she thought. You should be stressed, you evil son of a bitch.
Avery’s deputy, George Terrell, joined him in the interrogation room.
Terrell requested permission to record the interview.
Bagley gave permission, and Terrell turned on the recording device that sat in the middle of the table.
“Special Agent in Charge Avery Hill and Special Agent George Terrell in the interview of Paul Conklin, suspended deputy chief of the Metropolitan Police Department, represented by Charles Bagley.” Hill also provided the date and time of the interview.
“Mr. Conklin, you are charged with concealing evidence in the investigation into the shooting of Deputy Chief Skip Holland.”
Sam absolutely loved that Hill referred to Conklin as Mr. Conklin and her dad as deputy chief. He had earned her eternal affection with that one sentence.
Conklin’s eyes narrowed with disdain that also pleased her. “I didn’t withhold anything.”
“Did you speak to a man named Frank Davis on G Street on the date in question?”
“I wasn’t on G Street that day.”
“Special Agent Terrell, would you please play the footage from the scene of Skip Holland’s shooting?”
At that, Conklin sat up a little straighter in his seat.
Bagley glanced at him, eyebrow raised.
Opening his laptop, Terrell called up the footage Archie had found and turned the computer to face Conklin and Bagley before pressing Play.
Sam held her breath, her gaze fixed on Conklin’s face as he watched the clip.
His expression never changed, but his body language conveyed increased tension.
“As you can see from the video, you were present at the scene of Skip Holland’s shooting, and according to Mr. Davis, you spoke with him.
In addition, Fire Department Lieutenant Kevin Viera told investigators that he gave you Skip Holland’s messenger bag.
Can you tell us what you did with that bag? ”
Conklin didn’t blink. “I wasn’t there. I don’t know Frank Davis. And no one gave me anything of Skip’s.”
“The video puts you at the scene,” Hill said.
“Mr. Davis can attest to the fact that he spoke to you and called you annually on the anniversary of the shooting, looking for information about the investigation. We have his number on your call log on three straight anniversaries of the shooting. Viera, who had worked with you in the past, is certain he gave the messenger bag to you. That’s a lot of evidence that indicates you were at the scene. ”
“I wasn’t.”
“Would you be willing to take a polygraph?”
“My client is a highly decorated police officer.” To Sam, Bagley sounded like an arrogant ass. “That his reputation is being impugned this way is a crime, and your questions are opening the MPD and the FBI to a massive lawsuit.”
“We’ll take our chances,” Hill said drolly. “Answer the question, Mr. Conklin. Would you be willing to undergo a polygraph examination?”
Conklin shifted in his seat.
“No polygraphs,” Bagley said. “My client has answered your questions truthfully and should be released from custody immediately.”
Hill’s chuckle appeared to infuriate Conklin. “That’s not going to happen. Your client will be arraigned in the morning on felony charges of withholding pertinent information in a manslaughter investigation that has been upgraded to a homicide. He will also be charged with lying to the FBI.”
Conklin snarled at him. “I didn’t withhold anything, and I’m not lying.”
“Tell it to the jury. We have multiple witnesses who say otherwise, as well as video that puts you at the scene.” Hill gathered his notes into a pile and stood.
“Wait.” Conklin sounded nervous now. “Where’re you going?”
“We’re finished here.”
Bagley stood to face off with Hill. “I trust that you’ll be releasing my client?”
Hill leaned forward, getting right in the lawyer’s face. “You trust incorrectly. Your client will be held until arraignment at which time he’s apt to be ordered held without bail, which will be my recommendation to the U.S. Attorney.”
Conklin stood, his face red and his eyes popping. “This is outrageous!”
“You know what’s outrageous?” Hill spoke softly, but his words were laced with steel.
“Withholding evidence involving the attempted murder of a fellow law enforcement officer who thought of you as a friend. That’s truly outrageous, and you have only yourself to blame for whatever happens next.
Let’s go, Agent Terrell. We’re finished here. ”
Sam wanted to stand and applaud the FBI agent who, at times, had been a thorn in her side. Today, he’d been an advocate for her father and the truth, and she’d never appreciated him more than she did right then.
“That was very well done, Agent Hill,” Farnsworth said when Hill appeared at the door to the observation room.
“Very well done,” Sam said. “Thank you.”
“I wish I could say it was a pleasure.” Disgust clung to his every word.
Catching one of their own in a web of lies was one of the most difficult things any law enforcement officer confronted, but when those lies involved the shooting of another well-respected, decorated officer, it only compounded the disgust.
“Please keep us posted,” Farnsworth said.
Hill nodded. “You do the same.”
After Hill had left, Farnsworth turned to Sam. “Your team is still investigating Conklin?”
“They’re on it. We’ll let you know if we’ve got anything useful. In the meantime, I’ve got a few things I’m following up on.”
“You’re not working the Conklin case.”
“Not directly. I’m digging into some background on my dad’s case.”
“Be careful, Sam. Be very, very careful. The last thing we need is to find the bastards who did this, only to get smacked with conflict of interest charges. This is no time to go rogue.”
“I hear you, and I’m being careful.” She looked around, saw they were alone but didn’t trust that no one was around to overhear them. “Could I have a word in private?”
“Sure.”
Sam led him into her office and waited until the door was closed before posing the question she’d asked Malone earlier. “What can you tell me about Roy Gallagher?”
The chief seemed momentarily stunned. “Where’s that coming from?”
“His name has come up twice today.”
“How so?”
“I spoke with Alice Coyne Fitzgerald, and she mentioned that he was in your group at the academy, which somehow I didn’t know.
And then I mentioned to Captain Malone that we might want to check to see if Conklin called anyone after you two went to talk to him the other night.
He called three people—his wife, his skeevy lawyer and Gallagher. ”
Farnsworth’s expression grew thunderous. “I thought you weren’t working the Conklin case.”
“I’m not. I merely suggested to the captain that the call info might be worth having. He’s the one who followed up.”
“I have to go.”
“Where?”
“To see Roy Gallagher.”
“Um, are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“It’s a very good idea, because if he’s in any way wrapped up in this, I’m going to kill him with my own hands.” He turned and headed out of the pit, toward the lobby.
“Chief, wait. Maybe you shouldn’t…” Sam wasn’t sure how to suggest to her boss that he not do what he was about to do.
Farnsworth whirled around to face her, and Sam nearly collided with him. “Go back to work, Lieutenant. That’s an order.”
The fierceness of his gaze surprised her as she rarely saw him so worked up about anything. Clearly the name Roy Gallagher had struck some sort of nerve in him. “I’m saying this as your friend, not your colleague.” Sam spoke softly but had his attention. “Don’t do anything foolish.”
He gave a sharp nod to acknowledge her and walked away, his stride determined.
Watching him go, Sam had a sinking feeling that things were going to get worse before they got better.