Seduction In Death

"Good." She eased a hip down on the table. "I was hoping you'd say that because once you bring the lawyers in, I don't have to work with you toward any sort of deal. I've got to tell you, Kevin, just the idea of making a deal with you was making me sick to my stomach. And I've got a really strong stomach, right, Peabody?"

"Titanium steel, sir."

"Yep, that's me." Eve gave her stomach a little pat. "But you managed to churn it. Now I'm all steady again picturing you spending the rest of your pitiful life in a cage, without your pretty suits, all snuggled up with Big Willy." She pushed off the table. "When I have Lucias sitting where you're sitting now, I'll get a little sick again, working with him. Because he's going to go for a deal and roll right over on you. What are the current odds on that in the pool, Peabody?"

"Three to five, on Dunwood, sir."

"I better place my bet. Let's get you that lawyer, Kevin. Break in Interview, due to suspect's request for representation." She turned for the door.

"Wait."

Her eyes, January ice, met Peabody's. "Something on your mind, Kevin?"

"I just wondered… strictly out of curiosity, what you mean by a deal."

"Sorry, I can't get into that as you've called for your lawyer."

"The lawyer can wait."

Gotcha,Eve thought, and turned back. "Record on. Continuation of Interview, same subjects. Please repeat that, Kevin, for the record."

"The lawyer can wait. I'd like to know what you mean by a deal."

"I'm going to need a nausea pill.",. She sighed, sat again. "Okay. You know what you've got to do, Kevin? You've got to come clean, tell me how it all happened. I need chapter and verse. And you're going to have to show me some good faith and some sincere remorse. You pull that off, and I'll go to bat for you. Recommend that you're given better facilities, separated from the general population of butt-fuckers."

"I don't understand? What sort of deal is that? You think I'm going to go to jail?"

"Oh, Kevin, Kevin." She sighed. "I know you're going over. What happens to you after you're there is up to you."

"I want immunity."

"And I want to sing show tunes on Broadway. Neither one of us have a chance in hell of realizing those precious dreams. We got your DNA, you stupid putz. You didn't suit up for your parties. We got your juice, your prints. And you know that little sample they took from you at Booking? They're ru

"You have to give me something. A plea bargain, a way out. I have money – "

Her hand whipped out, snatched his shirtfront. "Was that a bribe, Kevin? Am I adding bribing a cop to your list of credits?"

"No, no, I just… I need some help here." He tried to calm himself, to sound reasonable, cooperative. "I can't go to prison. I don't belong in prison. It was just a game. A contest. It was all Lucias's idea. It was an accident."

"A game, a contest, someone else's idea, an accident." She shook her head. "Is this multiple choice?"

"We were bored, that's all. We were bored and needed something to do! We were just having a little fun, a kind of re-enactment of his bastard grandfather's great experiment. Then it went wrong. It was an accident. She wasn't supposed to die."

"Who wasn't supposed to die, Kevin?"

"That first woman. Bryna. I didn't kill her. It just happened."

She leaned back now. "Tell me how it happened, Kevin. Tell me how it just happened."

An hour later, Eve stepped out of Interview. "A miserable, pusboil on the ass of humanity."

"Yes, sir, he is. You wrapped him up tight," Peabody added. "A platoon of lawyers won't be able to poke so much as a pinhole in that confession. He's gone."

"Yeah. The other boil won't break so easy. Alert the team, Peabody. Same perso

"You got it. Dallas?"

"What?"

"Do you really want to sing show tunes on Broadway?"

"Doesn't everyone?" She pulled out her communicator, prepared to request her warrant. It beeped in her hand. "Dallas."

"My office," Whitney ordered. "Now."

"Yes, sir. What is he, psychic? Round up the crew, Peabody. I want to move on Dunwood within the hour."

With the interview on her mind and the anticipation of getting her hands on Lucias hot in her blood, she walked into Whitney's office. She'd been prepared to give him her report orally. Her plans changed when she saw Renfrew and another man in Whitney's office.

Face impassive, Whitney remained behind his desk. "Lieutenant, Captain Hayes. I believe you and Detective Renfrew have already met."

"Yes, sir."

"Detective Renfrew is here with his captain. He's considering filing a formal complaint re your conduct in the Theodore McNamara investigation, of which he is primary of record. In hopes to avoid any such action, I've asked you to come here so that the matter can be discussed."

There was a dull roar inside her head, a low burn deep in her gut. "Let him file."

"Lieutenant, neither I nor this department have a desire to wade through the mess of a complaint if it can be avoided."

"I don't give a damn what you or the department wants." Her tone bit and had something unidentifiable flashing in Whitney's eyes. "You file your complaint, Renfrew. File it, and I'll finish you."

"I told you how it was." Renfrew bared his teeth. "Got no respect for the badge, no respect for fellow officers. She comes onto my crime scene throwing her weight around, pulling rank, undermining my investigation. Questioned my crime scene unit after I requested her to remove herself before she contaminated the scene. Goes behind my back to the ME getting data on a body that's not hers."

Whitney held up a hand to halt Renfrew's tirade. "Your response to this, Lieutenant?"

"You want my response to this? I'll give it to you." Funous, she yanked a disc out of her pocket, slapped it onto the desk. "There's my response to this. On record. You idiot," she said to Renfrew. "I was going to let it slide. That was my mistake. Nobody should let cops like you slide. You think the badge is some sort of protection for you? Some sort of hammer you can toss around? It's your fucking responsibility, your goddamn duty, not your cushion and not your weapon."

Hayes made a move to speak. Whitney silenced him by lifting a single finger.

"Don't you tell me about duty." Renfrew braced his hands on his thighs, leaned his body forward. "Everybody knows you're out for other cops, Dallas. You're in IAB's pocket. The rat squad's poster girl."

"I don't have to justify what I did about the One-two-eight to you. It seems you've forgotten cops were dying. Want their names, because I've got them in my head. I stood over them, Renfrew, you didn't. You want a piece of me over that, you should've taken it outside the department, off a homicide investigation. You want a shot at me, you don't take it over the dead we're supposed to stand up for. I asked you to reach out, I asked you to share information vital to both our investigations so we could do the damn job."

"My robbery-homicide hasn't been co

"You pompous, egotistical, ignorant fuckhead. You don't have a robbery-homicide. I've got one half of your murder team in the tank. I've got a full confession, on record, that includes the murder of Theodore McNamara."