Connections in Death (In Death, #48)- J. D. Robb Page 0,77

do with any of that. Those are simply consultant fees for legal advice. I was not involved in any illegal activity.”

“You profited from it, you were aware of it and failed to report these activities to the authorities.”

“I—I was engaged as legal consultant, and therefore bound by confidentiality.”

“Bullshit! Bullshit!” Peabody exploded, surging up to push her face into Cohen’s. “You were disbarred in the first fucking place.”

“That was a misunderstand, and I intend to correct it. As a matter of integrity—”

Peabody made a grab for him—a feint—but even as Eve swallowed a laugh, she knew her role. She jumped up, held her partner back. “Easy now.”

“This piece of shit’s talking integrity? He takes a percentage of money from selling illegals to addicts, to kids! From people just trying to run a business and afraid they’ll get burned out or put in the hospital. And we haven’t even gotten to two dead bodies.”

She bared her teeth at Cohen. “What was your fee for that, you shit-bag fuck? What’s your percentage of two bodies in the morgue?”

“I had nothing to do with—I don’t even know those people. You’ve lost your minds! You—you threatened me. I have nothing more to say. I’m going to engage legal counsel.”

“With what?” Eve tossed back. “Your accounts are frozen.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Done. But since you’re entitled to legal counsel, we’ll arrange for a public defender.”

“I don’t accept that. I do not accept that. I invoke my right to counsel. I still have contacts. You’re required to allow me to engage my own counsel.”

“Sure, and good luck with that. Make sure you let whoever you try to rope in know they’ll be defending you on accessory to murder charges—two counts—and various other state and federal crimes. Interview suspended while subject attempts to engage legal counsel.”

She stepped out, signaled to a uniform, ordered him to take Cohen back to holding and allow him to contact legal counsel.

“Did I go too far?” Peabody asked her. “I felt like I had it going, but then he calls for lawyer.”

“No, you were good. He was going to try to lawyer up sooner or later. He figured he could bullshit his way out of it, but kept digging himself a bigger hole.”

She watched Detective Strong and Reo come out of Observation. Strong grinned, shot out a finger at Peabody. “Badass.”

“Thanks.”

“He may be able to tag up a lawyer as slimy as he is,” Eve commented. “It isn’t going to help. We’re going to have the FBI horning in before we get him back in there, most likely. I need you to hold them off,” she said to Reo.

“Already on that page. You gave me some nice ammo in there for that. We’re handing them a platter loaded with goodies. I can wrangle you time to work some names out of him on the murders. He breaks, they get even more.”

“He’ll break.”

Hell, Eve thought, she could already see the cracks forming.

“It’s taking time because, Jesus, he’s delusional. He believes his own bullshit. Just business, not involved, consulting fees. I figure we string that out some then wrap him up in his own bullshit. Who consulted with him about taking out Pickering and Duff?”

She looked back at Reo. “When it gets through the delusional bullshit that he’s wrapped, he’s going to want a deal.”

“He needs to go down for whatever part he played with Lyle,” Strong insisted. “With Duff, too.”

“Didn’t say otherwise. How much will the feds deal?” she asked Reo. “If he rats out the gang—if they can get key players on racketeering.”

“Dallas—”

“I’ve got an idea how to play this,” she interrupted Strong. “I need some room for it. The asshole’s tried two bribes already—one on the fucking record. It’s how he thinks. Compensation. I want to offer him some compensation. Damn it.”

She yanked out her comm when it signaled.

Dispatch, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. See the officers at 21 Forsythe re the body identified as Aimes, Barry.

“Responding now. Damn it, goddamn it,” she muttered as she shoved her comm back in her pocket. “Reo, you work those feds. It’s up to three bodies now. Strong, do you want in on this?”

“Damn right.”

“Then let’s move.”

* * *

“Forsythe’s Chinatown,” Peabody said when they reached the garage and climbed in Eve’s vehicle.

“I know.”

“So we’ve got a wannabe Banger dead inside what’s probably Dragon territory.”

“Somebody wants a gang war.” The base of it, Eve thought, was just that simple. “It’s a twofer. Snip off a loose end, like Duff, and push farther into the competitor’s territory. Somebody’s beating the

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