Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

We left Phin, Everett, and Janet with what was left of the broken pieces of their family.

"Now what?" I asked.

"Let's pay a visit to Geoffrey," Martinez said. "His arrogance seems out of place considering he's essentially out of a job."

"There are no coincidences here," I said. "We have three dead family members and another dead security guard. Evie was raped and murdered. Kitty was poisoned. Alan Goble was shot. And Robert Lidle supposedly killed himself."

"You don't think he did?" Martinez asked.

"I don't know yet," I said. "But I know that Astrid Nielsen is out on bail, I know that the staff passageway leads directly into Robert's office, and I know the information Doug passed on to all of us before we got here. The autopsy will tell the full story, but for now, I'm going to keep being suspicious."

"One of these people has to be responsible," Jack said. "Or know who is responsible. We just need to break them down until they're more scared of a life in prison than what an elite trafficking network can do to them."

"I don't know," I said. "I might be more scared of the network. Everyone involved is wondering if they'll be the next Jeffrey Epstein and end up committing suicide in a cell."

"Like Robert Lidle?" Martinez asked.

I shrugged, acknowledging the point.

"Come on," Martinez said. "I'm getting tired of these people and their lies. Let's see what Geoffrey has to say for himself."

Geoffrey had the disposition of the Grim Reaper. He sat like a stiff in a hardback chair, his legs neatly crossed, and his hands folded in his lap.

We were back in the breakfast room where we'd questioned Astrid Nielsen the day before. A lot had changed since then. There were more dead bodies, and the sun was shining through the glass roof instead of pounding rain and dark clouds.

Jack and Martinez sat across from Geoffrey, and I sat at the end of the table. Martinez had finished reading Geoffrey his Miranda rights when Leonore walked in and took the seat directly across from Jack.

"We're recording this interview," Martinez said. "Mr. Higgins has been read his rights, and let the record show that counsel is now present in the room."

"Leonore Collins," she said in a loud clear voice. "With Bastrop, Stevens, Gryzbowski."

"Let's start with the obvious," Martinez said, opening up a file that was in front of him. "You made a statement yesterday to one of our officers that you and Robert Lidle were at Mr. Lidle's apartment on Monday evening. The same night Evie Lidle was murdered. Is that correct?"

"That is correct," he said.

"You don't wish to retract or amend your statement in any way?" Martinez asked.

"Don't badger the witness," Leonore said, taking a yellow legal pad out of her bag and a pen so she could take notes.

"This isn't a trial," Martinez said, smiling cordially. "I'm just asking questions."

"No," Geoffrey said. "I don't wish to amend anything."

Jack had an electronic tablet in front of him and he turned it so Geoffrey could see the screen.

"You see, we have a problem here," Jack said. "You see these dots? This is your cell phone and Robert Lidle's cell phone pinging off the cell tower over in King George Proper."

Geoffrey was silent, but I could see the slightest sheen of sweat gathering at his temples.

"We had our IT guy do a search," Jack continued. "And he discovered that Robert Lidle bought several pieces of property not far from where those phones pinged about eight years ago. Bought them up cheap out of his spousal account. That's strange, isn't it? I mean, why would the husband of one of the wealthiest women in the world bother buying up some little pissant rental homes in King George. And none of them are rented out, so it's not like it's bringing in income."

"Sheriff Lawson," Leonore said. "People buy investment property for any number of reasons. And since Mr. Higgins isn't the owner of said property, he couldn't possibly speculate as to the reason the deceased purchased it."

"Oh, couldn't he?" Martinez asked, taking up the baton. "You've been Mr. Lidle's personal secretary for twenty-one years. You know him better than he knows himself. You know every dirty little secret. And there are so many of them, aren't there? Did it even bother you to know that he'd raped and sold his own granddaughter?"

"That's ridiculous," Leonore said. "You've got no proof."

"Just the testimony of the granddaughter," Jack said. "Emma Lidle. Since she was able to escape before she ended up dead like her sister."

"The testimony of a drugged-up runaway teenager isn't much in the way of proof," Leonore said.

My hands tightened into fists in my lap. I hated Leonore Collins in that moment.

Jack ignored her, never taking his gaze off Geoffrey. "We had to do some digging on those houses. The owner was hidden under layers of shell companies. Those are the holding houses for the trafficked girls. We've already got a team on the way to go over every inch of them with a fine-tooth comb."

"Y'all have had quite an operation going," Martinez said. "You notice how I lump you in with Robert Lidle? Maybe you thought you were just hired help and doing what you were told. But the truth is you had full knowledge of Robert Lidle's illegal operation and helped him facilitate it."

"Again," Leonore said. "Proof."

"We've just taken into evidence both Robert Lidle's and Geoffrey Higgins's electronic devices," Jack said. "They're linked so Geoffrey could do whatever it is a personal secretary does. He's not escaping on this."

"Here's where we can help you out, Geoffrey," Martinez said. "We know there are a lot of people involved in this. Alan Goble for one. He's been paid a pretty nice chunk of change from Robert Lidle during his tenure here. Who else? How did Evie get from this house to Regent Park?"

Geoffrey hadn't moved, but I could see fear in his eyes as the noose grew tighter around his neck.

"Regent Park is a little over a mile from where your phone pinged the night of Evie's murder," Jack said. "Here's what I think happened."

"Oh, I can't wait for this," Leonore said.

"Evie was supposed to be just like Emma," Jack said softly, dangerously. "Twelve years old. That's the perfect age for a grandfather to groom his granddaughter. But he can't do it in this house. Not after what he'd done to Emma, though Emma followed instructions. She was too afraid of what would happen to her family if she told anyone.

"But Evie wasn't like Emma," Jack continued. "She was spirited and curious and probably trusted whoever she left this house with. Did her kidnapper deliver her to you? Maybe you're the one who raped her."

"No," he said, almost at a shout. "I would never do such a thing."

"You just watch people do the dirty work, is that it?" Martinez asked.

"If you didn't rape her, who did?" Jack asked. "We'll get a warrant for your DNA."

"I didn't touch her," he insisted.

"But you know who did?" Martinez asked.

"Evie was a fighter," Jack said. "She fought her attacker with everything she had. I think she escaped right from under her killer's nose and he hunted her down like an animal for over a mile until he trapped her in the park. What do you think Everett Lidle would do to you if he found out you'd had a part in the torment of not one, but two of his daughters?"

"Are you threatening my client?" Leonore asked.

"Just ruminating," Jack said with a grin, but there was a sharpness around the edges that had her tapping her fingers on the legal pad nervously.

"Now's your chance, Geoffrey," Martinez said. "The longer you make us wait for information the less likely I'm going to want to help you. You're going down, one way or another."

"And what are you going to charge him with?" Leonore asked, rolling her eyes. "You've got nothing but a lot of imagination.

"Well, for starters I'm going to charge him with falsifying a statement," Martinez said. "And then we're going to add every little thing we can dig up on this English sewer rat. Maybe he'll get a chance to find out what it feels like to be sold in prison. Get a taste of his own medicine."

"This interview is over," Leonore said.

"Fine by me," Martinez said. "We can go right to the arrest. Hope the cuffs don't chafe those delicate wrists."

"Wait," Geoffrey said, as Martinez started to stand and take out his handcuffs. "I can't tell you who killed her." Before Martinez could interrupt him, Geoffrey held up a hand and said, "I don't know who killed her. But I can tell you who got her out of the house, and who drugged Kitty."

"Well," Jack said. "That's a whole other kind of killer. Start talking."

Leonore held up her hand before things could proceed. "If this confession suggests that Robert Lidle was responsible for the murder of his wife and grandchild then we have substantial documentation we'd like to submit to discredit this witness."

"Are you here representing Mr. Higgins or are you just here to make sure there's no blowback onto the company that keeps you in thousand-dollar shoes and European vacations?" Martinez asked.

Leonore just smiled.

"The phones you have collected with your warrant," Geoffrey said, seemingly unruffled by Leonore's betrayal. "I believe all the evidence you need is on those devices." Then he turned to Leonore. "Your services are no longer needed here. I will retain my own counsel from this point forward."

"Gosh, Leonore," Martinez said. "No one seems to want you here today. Give Jerry my regards on your way out."

"Oh, we're not going anywhere," she said, getting to her feet. "Our job is to make sure that every document in that office is protected, and that there is no possibility of espionage through leaks."

"Then by all means," Martinez said. "Go be a guard dog. It's important for people to feel useful. Even attorneys."

She picked up her briefcase and gave Martinez a sultry smile, and then swayed out the door to a rhythm only her hips knew the music to.

Jack opened the box where all the electronic devices were and pulled out three phones in separate bags.

"This is my phone," Geoffrey said, pointing to the middle bag. "Everything on Mr. Lidle's phone is replicated on my own. Even his calls and text messages. I screen all correspondence and then determine what needs his attention. Then I schedule it on the calendar and he'll return the call or text from this phone." He pointed to an identical phone on the right, and then he diverted attention to the third phone. "This phone is Mr. Lidle's personal cell phone. This is strictly for family only. No one else has this number or access. Not even me."

Jack kept the middle phone in the bag, but turned it on and waited until the passcode screen came up.

"Passcode?" Jack asked.

"5-7-6-9-2-5," Geoffrey said. "As you can see, there is correspondence between Mr. Lidle, Mr. Goble, and Ms. Nielsen in regards to making a drop. The drop referred to is the child."

"Evie Lidle," Martinez said. "Maybe you could say her name so you know that she wasn't just a drop. Is that how you sleep at night?"

Martinez held his hand out to me and I knew what he wanted. I slid him the file with Evie Lidle's autopsy report. And then he slapped the photographs of her torn and lifeless body in front of him.

"How many times have you been a part of this?" Martinez asked. "Or did it just get out of control this time?"

Geoffrey visibly swallowed and then licked his lips, diverting his eyes from the pictures.

"You think just because you didn't rape her or beat her that your hands are clean? You knew everything. Twenty-one years you've been keeping Robert Lidle's disgusting secrets. Did you know what he did to his own daughter? How many little girls had he practiced on and sold before he decided his own flesh and blood would bring in a higher price?"

A dark purplish red was rising from beneath the collar of Geoffrey's starched shirt and spreading up his cheeks. His breath was coming in shallow pants, and I was starting to think we might need to take a medical break.

Jack leaned forward and put his arms on the table, and Geoffrey turned his attention to him.

"We know you're just a pawn," Jack said. "Maybe you did it for money or prestige or your own slice of power acting as a surrogate to Robert Lidle. Who cares? It doesn't matter. But I know we're going to take down every one of the pawns and work our way through all the pieces until we find the chess master. And then we're going to take him down too."

"It's bigger than you," Geoffrey said. "It's bigger than any organization. There's no stopping it. There's no cutting off the head. How do you cut off the head of something that rules the world? You think we had a choice but to do whatever we were told? You think it's so cut and dry as choosing between good and evil? It's not. It never is. Not when you understand what real power is. We're all just mice in a cage, having our mazes designed for us. Every once in a while we're given a piece of cheese and we congratulate ourselves on our own ability and understanding, when we really just took the correct path in the maze that was set out before us. And when we take the wrong path there are consequences to that as well.

"The chess pieces you so casually speak of taking down," he continued. "They operate out of fear. Do you think jail or even death worries them? Death would be a relief. So you make your arrests and pat yourselves on the back like the good mice you are. It's what you're trained to do."

"A therapist would have a field day with you," Jack said. "But I'm going to go ahead and cut you off because you're boring me, and like you said, we have arrests to make. You being one of them. I guess whatever happens to you in prison is up to the big cheese in the sky."

"Got it," Martinez said. "I'm guessing these are burner phone numbers. They all start with the same prefixes like the ones we found on Goble's phone. We'll send them to Doug to see if he can trace them."

"Give us names," Jack said. "Who do those numbers belong to? Otherwise you're going to be hanging by yourself, and you seem like the type of guy who'd want company."

Geoffrey sneered, and I thought he was a perfect replica of what I would have imagined a stiff British personal secretary to be.

"Mr. Goble is in charge of all security and scheduling," Geoffrey said. "He arranged for the guard to be stationed at the incorrect gate, providing a window of opportunity for the transaction to take place. Ms. Nielsen used the prescription drugs from Ms. Kitty's bathroom to drug several of the decanters she kept around the house. And then she lured Evie out of the house with a game of hide-and-seek, which is one of Ms. Evie's favorite games to play."

"And who took her once Astrid got her outside the gate?" Martinez asked.

"That I do not know," Geoffrey said stiffly. "Someone new I suppose. Mr. Lidle was unavoidably detained in Washington, so we were late arriving in King George for the…transfer."

"You mean Mr. Lidle was meant to be waiting for his granddaughter in one of those creepy houses so he could rape her and indoctrinate her into the club like he did with her sister."

"Your words," Geoffrey said. "Not mine."

"Though I notice you're not correcting me," Martinez said. "That's it? Those are the only two people you want to throw under the bus?"

"I believe I'll exercise my right to an attorney at this point," Geoffrey said.

"Fine by me," Martinez said. "They can meet you at the jail. Because you're under arrest."