Connections in Death (In Death, #48)- J. D. Robb Page 0,84
coffee?”
“Pepsi.” Eve dragged out tokens for Vending. “Don’t use my code or the machines will spit out anything but.”
“I thought he would spill it before now.”
“First we had to break through his delusions—and they’re pretty damn strong—that he could wiggle out. We finally got there.”
As Peabody walked to Vending, Eve saw Roarke come out of Observation.
“I didn’t know you were here.”
“Only just. It appears I missed much of the show, and another murder. And . . .” He skimmed a fingertip over the faint bruise on her jaw.
She’d forgotten about it. “Come on, that doesn’t even show.”
“I know that face, every inch. A fight with a suspect?”
“No, and not a fight. A takedown. A street thief got in a glancing—and lucky—hit.” Now that Roarke had reminded her, it pissed her off all over again. “The fun never ends.”
“And with all the fun, I’ll wager you’ve missed lunch.”
“Been a little busy, and Vending sucks anyway.”
With a shake of his head, he tapped a finger on the dent in her chin. “There’s food you’ll actually eat without complaint in your office AC.”
“Right. I always forget. I’ll get something after I break this son of a bitch. I figure you’re here mostly because you feel sorry for Vinn, so I’ll tell you: She stood up. She has a lawyer, she’s cooperating with the feds, and apparently has a stripper pal who has her back and doesn’t take any crap.”
“Glad to hear it. Peabody,” he said as she clomped back with the drinks. “You look both lovely and formidable.”
Her eyes got a little sparkly as she passed Eve the tube of Pepsi. “Thanks. It’s been a day so far.”
“Plenty more to come.” Eve cracked the tube. “Before the end of it we’ll be busting a Dragon captain for aggravated assault, with a sweetener of threatening bodily harm. And we’ll bust Jones for a whole—what do they call that—plethora—of charges. Plethora. It’s got a ring.”
She guzzled Pepsi. “And if we can finish breaking Cohen, somebody’s going down for murder in the first, three counts.”
“That’s a very busy rest of the day,” Roarke commented. “I hope to join some of it. I have about an hour now, then some things to see to. If I don’t see you before, let me know when you start out.”
So saying, he pulled a candy bar out of his pocket, broke it in half. “So the two of you keep your energy up.”
“Loose pants or chocolate? Chocolate!” Peabody took the candy.
Eve eyed it narrowly. “Did you get that from my office?”
“I didn’t, no. I brought it with me on the suspicion my cop—or cops in this case—hadn’t eaten since breakfast.”
“I had a mini oatmeal crunch power bar,” Peabody said. “This is better.”
Eve studied the wrapper, noted it didn’t have the mark she’d put on her office stash. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t check her hidey-hole later.
But for now she ate the chocolate, drank the Pepsi. And decided the quick energy boost couldn’t hurt. She handed Roarke the empty tube. “See you later.”
“I’d wish you good luck in there, but from the little I’ve seen you have all you need.”
She would have, Eve thought as she opened the door to interview, when she pried the damn name out of Cohen.
“Record on. Dallas and Peabody entering to resume interview.”
She sat, noted Cohen’s eyes were a little red against a face paler than before. Fear could squeeze out a few tears.
In one go he drank half the water Peabody set on the table.
“You’ve had your water and your thinking time.”
“I . . . Hypothetically. If I had information regarding certain criminal activities and enterprises, and volunteered this information to the authorities, would this result in immunity from any inadvertent connection to those activities?”
“‘Immunity’? Are you serious?”
“By providing this information—again, hypothetically—I’d put my life in danger. With immunity, I’d be able to relocate out of harm’s way.”
An operator to the end, Eve thought. Just what she’d counted on. “You’re going to relocate to prison. Stop wasting my time.”
“Information I provide could and should lead to the convictions of multiple violent criminals.” His voice took on a desperate edge now. “I’m sure the prosecuting attorney’s office would be interested in this information. By granting immunity on the gray area of my business practices, the PA, and the federal government, would break the back of a notorious gang.”
Frowning, Eve sat back. “I’m not going to be able to work immunity, not with the feds or the PA. At the end of the day, the Bangers