Last to die

“Where are you?” she asked.

He laughed, which sounded like static through the voice-altering device. “I’m everywhere you go.”

She swallowed hard, trying to stay firm. “What do you want?”

“First, I want to congratulate you.”

“On what?”

“For staying silent at the court hearing. You didn’t mention a thing about the dog attack outside the warehouse. You showed very good judgment. The same good judgment you showed by not contacting the police.”

“How do you know I haven’t contacted the police?”

“Because you’re an ambitious bitch.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I know you wouldn’t just go to the police and tell them what you know. You’re the kind of person who would expect something in return from them, some juicy tidbit that would have appeared in the newspaper. But I haven’t seen anything of interest under any of your by-lines lately. So I can only assume you didn’t go to the police.”

Deirdre was silent, a little u

“Why do you assume I want something? I’m a very giving person, Deirdre.”

“What are you offering?”

“A news flash. The first of Sally Fe

She felt chills, but she tried to stay with him. “When?”

“Two weeks from today.”

“Which one?”

“That’s sort of up to you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Here’s the deal: It can be you, or it can be someone else. If it’s you, it won’t be quick and painless. You gotta decide. Do you want to live and share the forty-six million dollars with me, your partner? Or do you want to die?”

“Is this the choice you mentioned last time?”

“Exactly. You can choose to keep your mouth shut and make us both rich. Or you can choose to warn the others, make me mad, and make yourself dead.”

“How do you expect me to make a choice like that?”

“Easy. Here’s how it works. You keep quiet for a couple more weeks, and I’ll take that as your acceptance. I’ll assume we got a deal.”

Her hand was shaking as she spoke into the phone. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because I know that you will make the right decision.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

“Don’t be a fool, girl. Your half of forty-six million dollars can buy a lot of grief counseling. So remember, two weeks from today, the first victim falls. If you’re smart, it won’t be you.”

“You’re sick.”

“You’re right. But I’m also right about one thing. If you’re at all thinking that you should do something to save the others, trust me: They aren’t worth saving.”

She thought for a moment, wondering what he’d meant by that, but a moment was too long. There was silence on the line. The call was over. Deirdre put the phone in her purse and walked away from the crime scene, no longer interested in some story about just another body in the back of a van.

Twenty-five

Jack was eager to see what part of the five-year-old investigative file the state attorney was ready to disclose. The judge had given Mason Rudsky two days to turn over anything he’d shared with Deirdre Meadows about the murder of Sally’s daughter, and the government waited until the fifty-ninth minute of the forty-seventh hour to notify Jack that the materials were ready for his inspection. Jack might have busted their chops about stringing things out, except that he’d been busy for two days trying to convince a jury in another case that it really wasn’t robbery if his client took forty bucks and change from the cash register but dropped his wallet on the way out with fifty-eight dollars inside. It was sort of the criminal defense version of net-net economic theory. Didn’t work, at least not where the defendant had left his photo ID and Social Security number at the scene of the crime.

The government’s entire production on the Katherine Fe

“What is this?” asked Jack.

A police officer was seated in a folding chair near the door to the conference room. He didn’t answer.

“Excuse me, Officer. I asked what’s on the tape.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m under strict orders from Mr. Rudsky not to answer any of your questions.”

“Then why are you here?”

“To make sure the tape does not leave this room.”

“Seeing how this room has no windows, maybe that’s a job you could do from the other side of the door. My colleague and I would like to be able to talk freely while viewing the tape.”

The cop considered it. “I suppose that’d be okay.”

Jack thanked him and closed the door. Kelsey was examining the videocassette. “Interview of S. Fe

Jack said, “Sally’s ex-husband told me they were both interviewed. They must have videotaped Sally’s.”

“Why?”

“It’s a smart thing for law enforcement to do if there’s a chance of getting a nice voluntary confession that will play well to a jury.”

“What would Sally have to confess?”

“Let’s play the tape and find out.” Jack shoved the cassette into the VCR and switched on the television. A horizontal bar blipped across the bright blue screen, followed by snow and static. When it cleared, Sally Fe

The image was the most unflattering Jack had ever seen of Sally. Her eyelids looked heavy, and her skin was pale. A punishing light shining in her face didn’t help. Sally wasn’t the kind of woman who needed makeup to be beautiful, but even a natural beauty had her limits, especially in a head-and-shoulders closeup like this.

“She looks so tired,” said Kelsey.

“Something tells me they didn’t start taping at the begi

“How soon was this after the murder of her daughter?”

Jack checked the date on the videocassette sleeve. “Couple of months, I think.”

On screen, Sally continued to stare into the camera, waiting. Finally, the voice emerged. “Are you ready to continue, Ms. Fe

The focus remained on Sally’s face, and the man’s voice had come from somewhere off-screen. “That’s Rudsky,” said Jack.

“Ready,” said Sally.

“I want to ask a few more questions about this stalker you said was pursuing you. First, can you tell me what he looks like?”

“Not really. I only saw him once, from behind. One night I looked out the window and saw someone ru

“What does he sound like?”

“I’m not sure. Whenever he called, his voice was distorted by some kind of mechanical contraption.”

“Is there anyone you suspect? Any customers at the bar who’ve been bothering you, hitting on you?”

“A bar waitress gets hit on by creeps all the time. Kind of an occupational hazard. Could be anyone, really.”

The camera kept rolling, but there was silence. Sally took a sip of water.

“Ms. Fe

Kelsey looked away from the screen and asked Jack, “She took a polygraph?”

“Evidently,” said Jack.

On tape, Rudsky’s voice continued, “The results are interesting, to say the least. Your response to one question, in particular, showed obvious signs of deception.”

“I don’t understand how that could be.”

“Let’s explore that, shall we? The question was this: Have you ever cheated on your husband? Your answer was no.”

“That’s right.”

“You were lying, weren’t you?”

Jack watched the tape carefully. Sally seemed to be struggling as she blinked twice and said, “I can explain.”