Chapter 20

EVE GAVE HIM A MINUTE TO ASSIMILATE, TO sit, mouth agape so his narrow strip of chin hair looked like the stem on a wide glass bowl.

“Murder, Milo. You know, the unlawful killing of a human being. Like say, Marta Dickenson.”

“I didn’t kill her. I didn’t kill anybody. I hacked into her files, okay? I told you that. We made a deal on that.”

“That’s right. Now we’re talking about this.” She drew out the crime scene photo, slid it toward him.

“I didn’t do that.” He shoved the photo away again. “I never touched her. If you’re trying to throw that on me, I’m done talking.”

“Your choice.” She shrugged it off. “Same rules apply. I can’t help you out if you don’t talk. Or if you lie to me. If you try to tell me you weren’t there, you don’t know anything about it, we’ll just stop right here. We can pick it up again after the lineup.”

“What are you talking about? What lineup?”

“The one where we bring in the witness who saw you and your pal, and the van—your Cargo utility van—outside Whitestone’s apartment on the night of Marta Dickenson’s murder. Jesus, Milo, do you think we pulled your name out of a hat? We’ve got a witness.”

He shifted again, swiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “I didn’t kill anybody.”

“You’ve admitted to working for Alexander, for corrupting and destroying files Marta Dickenson was working on. You and your van were seen at the scene of the crime at the time of the murder. You want to contact your lawyer, Milo, because I can promise you he or she will tell you that’s some pretty hot water you’re swimming in.”

“I didn’t kill anybody! Okay, yeah, it was my van, but all I did was drive.”

“All you did was drive?” Eve repeated, pleasantly, and thought: Gotcha, asshole.

“That’s right. I drove the van. I didn’t know she was going to get killed. I drove the van, and I was supposed to get through the security if the codes didn’t work.”

“What codes?”

“The codes for the apartment, the codes Jake Ingersol gave us. Alexander hired me to use my van, to drive it and get us in if Ingersol pulled any crap, see? That’s all.”

“Okay, I’m getting it. But let’s backtrack a minute. How did Alexander hire you? How did he contact you?”

“Through Ingersol. I’ve done some work for Ingersol before. I only work on referrals, you know? You have to be careful.”

“I bet. So Ingersol brought Alexander to you?”

“Yeah. They had a good thing going, but Alexander wanted some tweaking, and a thicker slice. That’s where I came in. You got a potential mark, or a group of investors. I’d put together a file on them. Financials, other investments, what they spent money on—who they spent it on. If they had something going on the side, if they were into the kink.”

Contradiction, Eve noted, as Milo had claimed earlier not to have been involved in the fraud. She’d give him more rope. “For blackmail purposes?”

“I didn’t blackmail anybody either.” Milo held up his hands. “I don’t do that shit. I just provide the data to the client. What the client does with the data isn’t on me.”

“Got it. But being thorough, you’d have put together files on how Alexander used the data. You’d have that as a just-in-case buffer.”

“Like I said, you’ve got to be careful. He put the screws to some of the marks, sure. Bled them a little harder that way if they started to make noise or tried to back out. Whatever. He’s a greedy bastard. You know he even tried to get me to cut my rates?”

“Imagine that.”

“Yeah, seriously. You get what you pay for, right? And my work made him a whole shitpot of money.”

“I bet it did. How long have you worked for him?”

“Six months. Just doing those tweaks now and then.”

“So you were involved in the fraud.”

He blinked, shifted. “I didn’t do any fraud. I just did the tweaks. We covered that.”

“All right. So you did the tweaks, and helped Alexander make that shitpot of money. But then he was going to have some trouble. This audit he couldn’t get out of.”

“Shouldn’t have been trouble, wouldn’t have been if Parzarri hadn’t gotten banged up, got put out of commission before he fixed the books. Now, see, here’s what I’m saying.” Comfortable now, Milo shifted forward conversationally. “He tells me he wants this new accountant picked up, to hack into her communications, get a line on her so she gets scooped when she leaves the office, before she can dig into the books. All I figure is they want the files, put some pressure on her to clam it up, go along. Maybe pay her a little, though, like I said, he’s a greedy bastard. All I did was monitor her ’links, poke around in her comms.”

“And drive the van.”

“Right. Alexander doesn’t like to pay, so he’s got me multitasking. I’m okay with it because he’s a steady revenue stream. I just drive his ass-kicker to the offices, then when he scoops the accountant, I take them to the apartment. No problem with the codes, so I just wait in the van. See? I never laid a hand on her. I was in the van.”

“Okay, that makes sense. What happened? Take me through it.”

“So, well, after she’s scooped in the back, she’s making some noise. The ass-kicker knocks her around a little. Look, I’m sorry about that, but it happens. It can be a rough business.”

“Understood.”

“Me, I just drive, then I check the security, the locks. We’re go. I get back in the van to wait. He’s not gone all that long. I don’t know, I was working on my portable, so time passed. He comes back.”

“And?” Eve said after a moment.

“That’s it. Guy’s not much of a talker. I just dropped him off back at Alexander and Pope like he told me, took the van back to the garage where I keep it, and caught a cab home.”

“Who’s the ass-kicker?”

“Don’t know.”

“Milo.”

“Truth.” He held up his right hand as if taking an oath. “Do. Not. Know. Don’t want to know. He’s a scary kind of guy, and I figured if I poked around there, things could get harsh. It’s not like we hooked up for jobs regular. I’d only seen him a couple times before, and after all this, I don’t want to see him again.”

She leaned toward believing him, but she’d push on it later.

“He didn’t say anything about Dickenson?”

“He didn’t say anything about anything, except take him back to the offices. He had her briefcase, and weird, I thought, her coat. I just figured he was giving her the business, making her get home without the coat. Bitching cold that night. Then I saw how she’d been killed. They said a mugging, but...”

“You knew better.”

“Well, it could have been a mugging, but I figured something went bad. I didn’t ask any questions. When you start asking questions, you’re asking for trouble.”

“You didn’t ask any questions when Alexander told you to break into the Brewer building, into the offices, into Dickenson’s comp, the safe, take and/or destroy files?”

“That’s a job.” Milo set the edges of his hands on the table as if putting the matter into a box. “Now, sure, you have to ask some questions, but it was pretty straightforward. I tried to tell him I could take care of the files before, but he didn’t want to pay the fee. He ended up paying it anyway, right? Cheap prick.”

“Did you ask questions when he told you to hack into the hospital’s communication and security?”

“Just standard ones, so I could program the job. Look, the same elements apply. I didn’t know they were going to kill Parzarri. I mean, grab some reality, right? The guy was good at his work.”

“What did you figure?”

“I figured Alexander wanted his guy to scare Parzarri, to make sure he hadn’t blown it, talked to anyone. He was incommunicado for a few days, and Alexander started to sweat it. Especially after you got in his face. Man, he was steamed.”

“Was he?”

“Maximum steam. Okay, full disclosure. Total cooperation. He wanted me to hack into your comms—at Central, portable, at home. Let me say you’ve got some major mag shielding. I didn’t have time to get through it. So what I did, I got the other cop’s—the one who was in here?”

“Detective Peabody.”

“Yeah. NYPSD has some decent shielding, but it’s doable. I ran the locator on her comm. That’s how the ass-kicker knew where you’d be.”

“But you didn’t ask questions.”

“I had to figure he wanted to mess you up some, scare you off. I figure that’s stupid. He does that, you’re just going to put it together, but he doesn’t pay me for advice. Tossing that kid, that’s cold, man. That was very unchill. Superior catch, by the way.”

“Thanks. Let’s go back to Parzarri for a minute, just to tie it up. You hacked in, got the data on the shuttle flight, the ambulance crew, generated the fake IDs, sent the fake communication.”

“Yeah, that was the job.”

“And drove the ambulance.”

“That’s a kick.” He actually grinned. “Lights, sirens. A rush.”

“But while you’re driving, Milo, while you’re getting that rush, Parzarri’s in the back being smothered.”

“I didn’t know. Seriously, you have to pay attention when you’re driving an ambulance.”

“Tell me what you thought when you left it, and Parzarri at the underpass, switched cars?”

“Just like before.” His eyes cut away. “Putting a little scare into him.”

You’re lying now, Eve thought. Lying, weaselly little fucker.

“Putting a scare in him by leaving him hurt, since you didn’t know he was dead. Hurt and alone. Taking his suitcase, just driving off.”

“I got paid for the hack, the driving. That’s it, that’s all. And I wasn’t going to say anything. The ass-kicker looked... kind of pumped. Gave me a bad feeling. We’re supposed to go to the WIN building, so the ass-kicker can talk to Ingersol.”

“Just talk.”

“That’s all I knew. I tagged Ingersol, said how Alexander wanted to cover some new details. How it was important, and they should meet in the apartment there. But before that, the ass-kicker has me stop. Not on the schedule, but I do what I’m told. I don’t argue with the guy. He goes into this crappy little hardware store. I’ve got to circle around, and it takes some time with traffic and all. He’s waiting for me when I get back. He’s got this bag from the store. I didn’t know what was in it. As far as I know he needed some freaking hardware.”

“Reasonable assumption.”

“Sure.”

Eve waited a beat. “And then?”

“Oh, well. Anyway, Whitestone changed the codes after what happened, but I had the pattern and the system, so I bypassed easy enough. Then I parked down the block, went for some coffee, sat and did some work until the tag to come back.”

Milo stopped, moistened his lips. “This time I got spooked. The guy looked, I don’t know, more than pumped. He looked a little crazy maybe. And I thought I smelled blood. I don’t know for sure, but I do know for sure all I wanted was to take him back to the offices, dump the car in the company garage, and get home. I’m telling you I’d already decided to turn down any more jobs that involved that guy. Whatever Alexander offered to pay wasn’t worth it.”

“A little late, Milo.”

“Look, I hack. I don’t hurt anybody. I find information, and yeah, maybe funnel some money, but I don’t do violence.”

“You just sell information to people who do violence.”

“It’s not my responsibility what people do with the information.”

“Well, actually, Milo, you’re wrong about that. The law takes a different view. Which is why you’re under arrest for accessory to murder, three counts.”

“You can’t do that. I just drove the van.”

Eve expected that would be his war cry for the rest of his miserable life.

“That’s why it’s called accessory, Milo. You could look it up. You just drove the van on the night Marta Dickenson was abducted and murdered. You’re also being charged with that abduction, by the way.”

“But—what—” The words broke off, just crumbled.

“Now maybe, just maybe your lawyer can argue you didn’t know about the intent to murder, that time. But by your own admission you knew she’d been murdered, that’s accessory after the fact. Instead of coming in, you took the next job with the same people, then the next. Nobody’s going to buy you were stupid enough not to know what you were part of. You kept going back to the well, Milo, knowing the water was poison. And three people are dead.”

Eve saw tears start in the corners of his eyes.

“I cooperated. I laid it out for you.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” She got to her feet.

“You lied. You tricked me. You—you entrapped me.”

“No, yes, no. I’m allowed to lie in Interview, but in this case, I didn’t have to. If we hadn’t dug you up, brought you in, Alexander would tell his man to do you next. There’s no question there, Milo. In addition, the state of New York will not pursue charges of fraud against you. But I don’t have any control over what the feds decide, and I’m pretty sure they’ll come for you.”

“I didn’t hurt anybody.”

“God, you actually believe that.” Eve wondered if she should pity him, but couldn’t find it in her.

“I’ll also ask the PA to consider house arrest on the hacking. Of course, that house arrest will come after you’ve served your time in a cage for the murder counts, then in a fed cage for the fraud, should you live that long. But I’m going to bat for you there, Milo.”

Tears swam freely in his eyes now, and his voice came thick with them. “You’re a fucking bitch.”

“Again yeah, and thanks.” She opened the door, signaled to the uniforms. “Take him down, book him.” She reeled off a string of charges while Milo shouted for his lawyer. “And let him contact this lawyer he’s crying for. He’s to be kept separate from the general population, and he’s strictly denied access to any electronics. If and when the lawyer shows, it needs to be flagged in the file. No electronics allowed into his conference area.

“Peabody,” she said when her partner stepped up.

“You had a rhythm going so I didn’t come back in. I didn’t want to distract him. I watched in Observation, in case. It didn’t seem like you needed the information that I just got a minute ago. They got into his panic room. Working on the files and equipment in there now.”

“Fast work,” she said as the uniforms muscled Milo out.

“Yeah, apparently our team’s better than he is.” She smiled at Milo as he passed, then sobered again. “He really didn’t get it, Dallas. He just drove the van, just accessed information, so he’s not responsible.”

“He liked the power and money too much to believe otherwise. Greed, that rush, and stupidity. That’s the hat trick for this whole operation. I’d better talk to the PA’s office.”

“Reo came into Observation while you were leading Milo by the nose. She’s talking to her boss now.”

“Good. I’ll touch base with her. I want that face match, goddamn it. We need Alexander’s goon before we take down Alexander.”

“He’d roll on him, wouldn’t he? Alexander would hand us the goon for a deal.”

“I don’t want to deal, but even with that, once we pick up Alexander, the killer’s in the wind. No way around it. We need to keep any media play of Milo’s arrest down, even out if we can. We spook either of the other two, we could lose them. Let’s put a couple of men on Alexander. If it looks like he’s going to rabbit, we pick him up.”

“I’ll take care of it. Do you think Milo was telling it straight? He doesn’t know the name of the goon?”

“I think the guy spooked him. And I think he didn’t want to know so he could claim, and likely believe, just what he said in there. He didn’t know, so he’s not responsible.”

“He’ll have the rest of his life to think about how wrong he was.” Reo stepped out, compact and blonde, with a hint of magnolia on her tongue. “You wrapped him up so pretty, with a big, fluffy bow.”

“He knows electronics. He knows dick about people.”

“You did some of my job in there. We get to negotiate deals.”

“Just multitasking.”

“Well, in this case, the boss agrees with you. We’ll let the feds go after him on the fraud, if they want to add to his time. Most likely, they’ll give him a pass on it for his testimony on Alexander. When are you picking him up?”

“Not yet. I need his hammer first. I’m working on it.”

“Dallas, the feds may give the hacker a pass, but you can bet they’ll go full throttle after a shark as big and toothy as Sterling Alexander. They won’t quibble about trumping your three murders.”

“I’m working on it,” Eve repeated. “And if I don’t have his VP in charge of murder by tomorrow, I have a contingency plan.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Let’s take it in my office. I want to check on the face match.”

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Reo asked as they walked.

“I just told you I have a contingency.”

“I meant the premiere. Even this job takes a break once in a while.”

“Not exactly, and that’s the contingency.”

In her office Eve ran it through while Reo sat sipping water from a bottle she pulled out of a handbag the size of a baby elephant.

“You actually think he’ll try for you at a red carpet event.”

“I think he’s assured I’ll be there, and he’ll believe I’m off my guard basking in the sparkle and attention.”

“He doesn’t know you, does he? You’re never off your guard, and you don’t bask. Not in sparkle anyway.”

“His perception’s his reality, and it’s boosted by all that media on the flying baby, on Nadine’s interview with me, on the media hype for the event. Mira’s convinced he has to eliminate me in order to gain satisfaction for the job he’s done, and because his level of violence and his enjoyment of it increases with each killing. I can’t argue with it.”

“There’s room for slip ups here, Dallas.”

“There always is, but he’s going to be the one to slip. We take him, we take Alexander. We hand you conspiracy to murder, and a big, fat fraud and embezzlement bouquet you can pick through with the feds.”

“His operatives will scramble, but I expect the feds will gather them up.”

“Milo’s data should help with that. It’s a nice dish to offer the feds. They’ll owe us.”

“You’d think. It doesn’t always work that way, but it’s not only a good case, it’s a nice lever we may be able to pull at some point.”

She looked at Eve’s monitor, the screen split between Yancy’s sketch and a constant scroll of faces. “That’s the guy?”

“It’s what we’ve got. Yancy felt confident, but we’ve been searching for a match for hours without a solid hit.”

“Good luck. I hope you get that hit soon because I’ll have a much better time tomorrow without waiting for some hired killer with a grudge to take a shot at you.”

“I don’t know. It kind of adds a... sparkle.”

“Only you,” Reo said with a laugh and rose. “I’m going to check to see if Milo got his lawyer, then—”

She broke off when Eve’s computer beeped.

Facial recognition match, ninety-five-point-eight probability.

“Holy shit! You must be like a lucky charm. If I go to Vegas, I’m taking you with me.”

“That’s him,” Reo agreed, studying the ID photo over Eve’s shoulder. “Clinton Rosco Frye.”

“Age thirty-three, freelance personal security. Yeah, that’s the name for it. He’s not listing Alexander as employer.” She scanned down. “I knew it. See? Semi-pro football. It’s been about eight years, and it’s bush-league, but I knew it. Two years regular army, four years paramilitary Montana Patriots.”

“Straight out of high school into the army. Out of the army into the Montana Patriots, which—as I just looked them up,” Reo said, tapping her PPC, “gets a three and a half on the four-star lunatic fringe scale. Play some ball... How do you go from that to personal security to killer?”

“You can’t get into the bigs, can’t make it out of semi-pro. Screw it, use your build, your moves for bodyguarding and make more money. Fall in with just the right client—pays good, makes you his go-to for head-knocking. It just escalates. See, he’s got some dings on here, all involving violence. Assault, battery, destruction of property. He didn’t do any time, just paid fines, anger management bullshit, community service. No illegals playing in, no alcohol. He stays clean, keeps in shape. And according to his official report makes a damn good living freelancing. There’ll be more tucked away, but he doesn’t mind reporting a hefty sum, and paying the freight on it. He needs the success.”

“The address listed. It’s not far from the first crime scene, is it?”

“No, it’s not. Not far from Alexander and Pope. It’s handy to live close to work.” She rose, grabbed her coat.

“It looks like you’ll have to settle for the sparkle on my shoes tomorrow night,” Reo said. “They’re fabulous. I’ll get your warrant, and if I’m not here when you bring him in, just tag me. Work late tonight, party hard tomorrow.”

“Maybe.” She dragged on her coat as she strode into the bullpen. “Peabody, Uniform Carmichael, Franks, Baxter, Trueheart. Suit up. We got a hit on the UNSUB now ID’d as Clinton Frye. Let’s go get his ass.”

···

She set it up simply, pulling Callendar from EDD to run heat imaging, eyes, ears. She covered the exits on the eight-story building, considered the options of taking Frye from his top floor, corner apartment.

“Is he up there or not?” she asked Callendar.

“I’m scanning. I’m not finding any heat sources. No shields either. He’s not home, Dallas.”

“Damn it.”

“I can patch into building security, give you eyes in the hallway outside his apartment, in the elevators and stairwells.”

“Do it.”

“Do we sit on it, Dallas?” Peabody wondered. “Wait for him to come back?”

It could come to that, Eve thought. “Let’s see if we can get some information first. Is anyone in the apartment across the hall?”

“Give me a sec. Yeah,” Callendar confirmed. “I’ve got two. One’s either a kid or a midget.”

“Good enough. Peabody, let’s go talk to the neighbor. Everybody, just hold. If you spot him, don’t spook him. The bastard can run.”

She jogged across the street, scanning as she went. Nice neighborhood. A man could go out for a walk, drop down to the market, have a late lunch at the deli. She didn’t want Frye to wander toward home and spot her.

“He could be at work,” Peabody suggested as Eve bypassed the door locks with her master.

“I don’t think Alexander has him in all that much. He’s the kind of guy who stands out. Why have somebody hanging around who people notice? Maybe he keeps a separate office somewhere. Or he’s just out. Or he’s killing somebody else either on his own or at Alexander’s orders.”

“Who’s left?”

“Alexander would have a bigger slice of the pie, and remove a personal irritant if his half brother met an untimely demise.”

“Have Pope killed while we’re investigating three other murders with connections to him?”

“He may be that arrogant. My gut, and the probability I ran says he’ll wait a few months. But, like Frye, killing’s working for him. Why not use it again?”

They stepped off the elevator on eight, knocked on the door across from Frye’s.

“Good security, but not good and paranoid from the looks,” Eve commented as she studied Frye’s door.

When the neighbor’s door opened a woman in her middle thirties, hair tangled, clothes wrinkled, eyes exhausted stared out at Eve.

“Who are you?”

“Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD.” Eve held up her badge.

“You can’t arrest me for thinking about buying shackles and chaining my son to his bed for a nap, can you?”

“It’s probably not a smart thought to share with a cop.”

“I’m past smart. I have no brain left. This is day three of the kid with the cold from hell. Why, why can’t they fix a damn cold? I’d trade any technology for a cure.”

She gestured behind her to a boy of about six who sat on the floor surrounded by a junkyard of toys. His nose was a bright red beacon in a heavy-eyed face that nonetheless clearly projected the devious.

“He’s feeling better, and that’s my hell.”

“I want ice cream!” The boy shouted it and banged his heels on the floor. “I want ice cream!”

“You get nothing until after you take a nap.”

His answer was an ear-splitting scream.

“Take me in.” The woman held out her hands, wrists close. “Arrest me. Save me. They won’t take him back in school until tomorrow, and that’s only if I swear in my own blood, and I’m willing, that he’s not contagious. His father’s on a business trip, the lucky bastard.”

“I’m sorry, but—”

“Ice cream!”

On the scream, the boy hurled the toy closest at hand. Eve dodged the toy truck that missed the mother by an inch.

“That’s it!” The woman whirled. “I’m done. Sick or not sick, Bailey Andrew Landon, your butt’s about to be as red as your nose.”

Though Eve considered that a reasonable response, she put a hand on the woman’s arm.

“Kid.” She pushed back her coat so her weapon came clearly into view. “You’ve just violated Code Eighty-two-seventy-six-B. You’ve got two choices. Go take a nap, or go to jail. There’s no ice cream in jail. No toys in jail, no cartoons on screen in jail. There’s just jail.”

The boy’s sleep-deprived eyes went huge. “Mommy!”

“There’s nothing I can do, honey. She’s the police. Please, Officer.” The mother turned to Eve, hands clasped as if in prayer, and with an almost insane grin on her face. “Please, give him another chance. He’s a good boy. He’s just tired and not feeling very well.”

“The law’s the law.” Eve aimed a hard, cold look at the kid. “Nap or jail.”

“I’ll take a nap!” He scrambled up and ran as if pursued by demons. Eve heard a door slam.

“I’ll be right in, baby,” the woman called out, then turned back to Eve. “If you take off your boots, I’ll kiss your feet. I’ll give you a pedicure. I’ll make you dinner.”

“Just answer a couple questions and we’re square.”

“We’ll never be square, but what do you want to know?”

“Clinton Frye.” Eve gestured across the hall. “When did you last see him?”

“Yesterday, about five, I guess. I had some food delivered because I can’t take Bailey out, and he was leaving.”

“Did he say where?”

“He doesn’t say anything. I haven’t had a conversation with him in the five years we’ve lived here. He’s not what you call neighborly.”

“Any trouble with him?”

“No. But I’m not surprised to find the police at my door asking about him. He just gives off that... vibe. I’ve never seen anybody visit, never seen him with a single friend.”

“And he hasn’t been home, that you’ve seen, since yesterday?”

“That’s right. He had a couple suitcases so I assumed he was taking a trip.”

“Suitcases.”

“Yeah. Anyone else, I’d have said something like, oh, you’re taking a trip. Him? I just kept my mouth shut.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Are you sure I can’t do anything else? Bake you a cake? I’ve never baked a cake, but I’d try it.”

“No, thanks. We appreciate the time.”

“He really is a good boy. He’s just been so miserable the last few days. I think we’ll both take a nap, and hopefully wake up human again.”

“Good luck.” Eve stepped back, looked across the hall.

“Do you think he went rabbit?” Peabody asked.

“I think he figured out we might come looking. The flying baby,” she said again. “All those vids. He couldn’t be sure somebody didn’t get his face, and we wouldn’t do just what we did with the sketch. So he took what he wanted, relocated. But he’s not in the wind, not blown far.”

She took out her comm, ordered a canvass, a check on cab pickups, and asked Callendar to come up to go through any electronics he’d left behind.

“Let’s see what we’ve got,” Eve said, and pulled out her master.

“That was good work with the kid, by the way,” Peabody said. “Scaring him into thinking you’d throw him in jail.”

“Who said I wouldn’t have?” Eve countered and opened the door.