Chapter Eight #2
“That’s an unfounded and deplorable accusation. Banner-Wyst compensates dedication, rewards brilliance. And such an accusation forces me to end this conversation.”
“We can continue it downtown.”
He rose; he smiled. “You’d know, on a professional and personal level, that I can have ten lawyers in this room within five minutes.”
“Sure you could. And going there tells me you’ve got a lot to hide. How much do I like digging out what people like to hide, Peabody?”
“More than a caramel sundae with extra whipped cream.”
“Yeah, more than that.” Eve got to her feet. “And I’ll find it. You should call those lawyers, Mr. Wyst, because you’re really going to need them. Your partner will, too, before I’m done.”
Wyst pulled out his ’link. “Have security escort Lieutenant Dallas and Detective Peabody out of the building. They are not to be granted access again without a warrant.”
He pocketed the ’link. “I’ll also be speaking to your superiors.”
“Hey, me, too. I’m going to enjoy digging up what you’re trying to bury.”
“Hey,” Peabody said, “me, too.”
“Meanwhile, I’d watch my back. Seems to me someone’s working their way up the chain.”
There was a quick knock at the door before it opened. Two men in dark suits stepped in.
“You may be the next body we stand over. If it’s any consolation, we’ll work just as hard to find who put you, or whoever’s next, in the morgue.”
One of the men reached for Eve’s arm as she turned to leave.
“Put a hand on me or my partner, you’ll be on the ground, then in a cage.”
Eve said nothing as they rode down with security. Nothing when she noted the security officer in the garage limped some when he walked.
The DLE had given him more than a headache, and that didn’t hurt her feelings one bit.
She drove out under their watchful eyes.
“They’re dirty, Peabody.”
“Oh, boy howdy. But Wyst’s something more than dirty right now.”
“That’s right. He’s scared.” And that was very satisfying. “I need to contact Whitney, read him in on the rest.”
“Wyst may be doing that right now.”
“No, right now, he’s talking to Banner, then he’ll go straight to Tibble. Hit the chief first, maybe the mayor or the governor. They’ll be covering their asses.”
“The mayor and the governor?”
“Ha! That wouldn’t be anything new, but no, Banner and Wyst. Get a hold of Nadine, see if she can come into Central.”
“You’re going to play dirty!” Peabody bounced on the seat. “Goodie.”
“Peabody, it’s just embarrassing for a cop, a murder cop, to say goodie.”
“I’m kinda sorta living with a toddler.”
“And still.” Eve used the in-dash to contact her commander’s office. “Heading into Central now,” she told Whitney’s admin. “I need to give the commander an oral update asap.”
Unlike Mira’s admin, Whitney’s breezed her right through. “I’ll let him know to expect you.”
As she drove, Eve thought Mira’s dragon could take a lesson.
“Nadine can and will come in, about an hour.”
“That works. Banner-Wyst can’t get ahead of the media on this. A lot of reporters are assholes, but they’re not stupid with it. The connection’s right there. We’re just going to give it a boost.
“And we need to dig up the root, Peabody. However, wherever they buried it for thirteen years, we need to dig it up.”
“I’ll dig while you talk to the commander.”
“Do that, and check in with the Chu family. See if they’ve set the memorial. We need to be there.”
“You think the killer will show?”
“Might. Probably not, but might. If he’s not too busy beating someone else to death. He’s way too pissed off to be done.”
At Central, they separated, with Eve going straight up to Whitney’s office.
He’d have read her reports on the Chu homicide, her initial interviews. Now she wanted to report directly on the second murder, the financial connections.
Whitney’s door stood open. The admin, at his desk in the outer office, gave her a quick nod.
“He’s ready for you.”
Whitney stood facing his wide windows and the city he served. A big, broad-shouldered man who’d started his career as a street cop, he rode a desk now. And wore his command as seamlessly as he wore the gray suit.
He turned to her, his hair cropped short, threaded with gray over a dark face. His eyes remained solemn as she stepped in.
“Commander, thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”
“You don’t ask unless it’s needed. You have two bodies in the morgue now.”
“Yes, sir. Ezra Dent, like the previous victim, Lawrence Chu, was brutally and fatally beaten. As with the first victim, the assailant entered the home using Dent’s security code on one specific entry.
The assailant also attacked when the victims were alone in the residence. Both victims worked for Banner-Wyst.”
“I’m aware.”
“Peabody and I have just returned from interviewing Jacob Wyst.”
“I’m aware,” he repeated. “As is Chief Tibble, who’ll sit in on your report. Jacob Wyst contacted him shortly ago to complain about your harassment of him and others employed at Banner-Wyst, your attempts to smear him, and the dead, in order to undermine his company, a competitor of Roarke’s.”
“Sir. Anticipating the possibility of this, I have the interview on record. I can play it for you and Chief Tibble now.”
Whitney took a long beat. “Lieutenant Dallas, do you think I wouldn’t take your word?”
“I know you would, Commander, and sincerely, that’s an honor. But Wyst has a long reach, politically, and others may require proof. I’d like to say—”
“Save it.” Whitney walked to his desk. “Chief Tibble will join us holographically. Say what you like to both of us.” He started to hit the program, paused. “I know you generally prefer to stand, but you’re welcome to sit.”
“I’m fine, sir.”
Whitney engaged the program. Tibble flickered into the room, another big man with an athlete’s build in a suit shades darker than Whitney’s. He, too, had started on the street.
“Commander, Lieutenant. I’d be there in person, but I’m in meetings uptown. Lieutenant, you appear to have poked a bear.”
“Chief, I’m investigating two murders, the result of brutal beatings, within hours of each other, and with undisputable connections to each other and Banner-Wyst.”
“Jacob Wyst feels you’ve been overly aggressive, overly focused on his company. And with a personal agenda to enhance your husband’s business interests by undermining and denigrating his company.”
“All interviews conducted at Banner-Wyst were recorded.”
She started to remove her lapel recorder, and stopped when Tibble shot up a hand.
“I’ll want a copy of the recordings for my files. I have a question, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Since I’ve served as chief of the New York Police and Security Department, have you ever known me to undermine my officers?”
“No, sir, I have not.”
“Follow-up question. Do you think I’d bend to the pressure from someone of wealth and some influence who demands I reprimand and remove one of the NYPSD’s finest during an investigation when she, her partner, her division have proven themselves again and again to be worthy of the badge?
Do you believe I’m so easily compromised? ”
“No, sir. You were a cop first. You’re a cop now.”
“That’s an excellent answer. Wyst and Banner may have certain politicians in their pockets, but they don’t have me. They don’t have the mayor—whom I’ve already spoken with.”
He’s pissed off, Eve realized. Seriously pissed off. And it occurred to her the only other person she’d known who could keep boiling anger under a block of ice was Roarke.
“You are, Lieutenant, neither reprimanded nor removed.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t thank me.” He snapped it. “You do your job, I do mine. As to the conflict of interest? Address it.”
“Sir. Roarke is officially an expert consultant, civilian, for the department for good reasons. And he, too, has proven himself, again and again. Do I discuss the details of cases with him? Absolutely, and for those good reasons. He has never taken advantage of that for his own gain. If I believed for one instant he would do so, he wouldn’t be my husband. ”
“They say love’s blind.”
“Then they’re idiots. Love’s not blind, not the real thing anyway. You can’t love someone, not the real thing, unless you see them for who they are. You can want them, you can need them, but you can’t love them, not the long haul.”
She let out a huff of breath. “And Roarke sure as hell doesn’t need me to enhance his business interests. Sir.”