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Pankovits said, “Come on, Qui
“Sure. He’s part of the family, part of the business, and he got busted in the course of his employment. The family always steps forward.”
“Did you hire the lawyer?”
“I did.”
“How much did you pay the lawyer?”
Qui
“You paid the lawyer in cash?”
“That’s what I just said. Nothing wrong with cash, last time I checked. We don’t use bank accounts and credit cards and things the Feds can follow. Just cash.”
“Who gave you the cash to hire the lawyer?”
“No comment.”
“Did you get the cash from Dee Ray?”
“No comment.”
Pankovits slowly reached for a thin file and removed a sheet of paper. “Well, Dee Ray says he gave you all the cash you would need in Roanoke.”
Qui
Pankovits slid across an eight-by-ten color enlargement of a photograph of Dee Ray surrounded by FBI agents, with his hands cuffed, his mouth open, and his face angry. Delocke explained, “We picked up Dee Ray in D.C. about an hour after we brought you in. He likes to talk, you know. In fact, he talks a lot more than you do.”
Qui
The Freezer. Four in the morning. Victor Westlake stood, again, and walked around the room. Movement was needed to fight off sleep. The other four agents were still awake, their systems pumped with over-the-counter amphetamines, Red Bull, and coffee. “Damn, these guys are slow,” one of them said.
“They’re methodical,” another replied. “They’re wearing him down. The fact that he’s still talking after seven hours is incredible.”
“He doesn’t want to go to the county jail.”
“Can’t blame him there.”
“I think he’s still curious. Cat and mouse. How much do we really know?”
“They’re not going to trick him. He’s too smart.”
“They know what they’re doing,” Westlake said. He sat down and poured another cup of coffee.
In Norfolk, Pankovits poured a cup of coffee and asked, “Who drove you to Roanoke?”
“Nobody. I drove myself.”
“What kind of car?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You’re lying, Qui
“Then your witnesses are lying. You’re lying. Everybody’s lying.”
“You bought the Hummer on February 9, paid cash, and there was no trade-in. How did you get to the used-car lot that day when you bought the Hummer? Who took you?”
“I don’t remember.”
“So you don’t remember who took you?”
“I don’t remember anything. I was hungover and still about half drunk.”
“Come on, Qui
“What, exactly, do you want to know?” Qui
“Where did you get all that cash, Qui
“I’m a drug dealer. I’ve been a drug dealer most of my life. I’ve spent time in prison because I’m a drug dealer. We burn cash. We eat cash. Don’t you understand this?”
Pankovits was shaking his head. “But, Qui
Delocke said, “The family shu
Pankovits said, “You came across some cash, Qui
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you lying?”
“Everybody’s lying. I thought we all agreed on that.”
Delocke tapped the table and said, “Let’s go back a few years, Qui
“Right.”
“Was there more cash? A little extra to help grease the system? Maybe a bribe so the court would go easy on the kid? Anything like that, Qui
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
“Come on, Qui
“I paid the lawyer in cash. I assumed he kept the money for his fee. That’s all I know.”
“Who was the judge?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Does Judge Fawcett ring a bell?”
Qui
“Did you ever go to court with Jakeel?”
“I was there when he was sentenced to eighteen years.”
“Were you surprised when he got eighteen years?”
“Yes, matter of fact I was.”
“He was supposed to get a lot less, wasn’t he?”
“According to his lawyer, yes.”
“And you were in court so you could get a good look at Judge Fawcett, right?”
“I was in court for my nephew. That’s all.”
The tag team paused at the same moment. Delocke took a sip of his Red Bull. Pankovits said, “I need to go to the men’s room. You okay, Qui
Qui
“Get you something to drink?”
“How about a Sprite?”
“You got it.”
Pankovits took his time. Qui
Qui
“Did you hear about Judge Fawcett?”
“Nope. What about him?”
“Murdered, shot twice in the back of the head.”
No reaction from Qui
“You didn’t know that, Qui
“No.”
“Two hollow-point bullets, fired from a .38-caliber handgun identical to the one we found in your trailer. Preliminary ballistics report says there’s a 90 percent chance your gun was used to kill the judge.”
Qui
“That’s right.”
“Great. So we have wasted, what, seven hours with this bullshit. You’re wasting my time, your time, Dee Ray’s time, everybody’s time. I ain’t killed nobody.”
“Have you ever been to Ripplemead, Virginia, population five hundred, deep in the mountains west of Roanoke?”
“No.”
“It’s the nearest town to a small lake where the judge was murdered. There are no black people in Ripplemead, and when one shows up, he gets noticed. The day before the judge was murdered, a black man matching your description was in town, according to the owner of a gas station.”
“A positive ID, or just a wild guess?”
“Something in between. We’ll show him a better photo of you tomorrow.”
“I’m sure you will, and I’ll bet his memory improves greatly.”
“It usually does,” Delocke said. “Four miles west of Ripplemead the world comes to an end. The asphalt stops, and a series of gravel roads disappear into the mountains. There’s an old country store called Peacock’s, and Mr. Peacock sees everything. The day before the murder, he says a black man stopped by asking for directions. Mr. Peacock can’t remember the last time he saw a black man in his part of the world. He gave a description. Matches you very well.”
Qui
“Really? Then why did you hang on to the Smith & Wesson? When we get the final ballistics report, you’re dead, Qui