Gamma Blade - Tim Stevens Page 0,23

I chase a guy who’s just knocked a man unconscious. But it’s a coincidence. Nothing more.”

Estrada continued to appraise him for what felt like ten seconds. Her face gave nothing away. There was no disbelief there, no contempt. But no acceptance either.

Without breaking eye contact, she reached into her jacket pocket. Venn heard the crackle of foil paper, saw her extract a small square of white and pop it in her mouth. She began to chew slowly.

Nicotine gum, he guessed.

Venn spread his hands. “So. You believe me?”

Estrada glanced away, as if she were considering. Instead of answering Venn’s question, she said, “I checked you out. You’re from the Division of Special Projects. Never heard of it. But from what I’ve been able to piece together, you’re kind of an investigator for political stuff.”

“That’s correct.”

“So, what, you keep crimes by big-shots quiet? Solve them and take care of them with minimum embarrassment for the perpetrators? Because they’re rich, and powerful, and the NYPD needs to keep them happy?” This time there was an edge to her voice, though her expression didn’t change from its customary sourness.

Venn sighed inwardly. He’d had this kind of accusation leveled at him before, from cops within the Manhattan force and elsewhere. Most people hadn’t heard of his Division, which he was grateful for. He guessed the guys in Internal Affairs had a tougher time of it. Every cop knew who they were, and every cop detested them.

“Wrong,” he said easily. “I take on cases the regular force is too scared to investigate. I get to go where money and power can’t protect the criminals.”

Was that a shift in Estrada’s expression? Just a tiny relaxation of the tension in her face? Venn wasn’t sure.

She placed her hands flat on the desktop. Venn noted that her nails were bitten to the quick, all of them.

“Okay,” she said. “Take me through it. What you saw, what happened.”

Venn didn’t bother protesting that he’d already given a statement to the patrolmen who’d showed up at the scene. As a detective himself, he always wanted to hear his own version of events from the person concerned. Not least, because he got to read the interviewee’s body language at the same time.

And spot clues that they might be lying.

He told Estrada, in as much detail as he could about the events of the evening. The row of men standing on the pier, watching the yacht. The stranger over to the left, who’d dropped after the guy had hit him. The chase down the alleyway, and the man who’d gotten the drop on Venn from behind.

He described everything he could recall about that guy. His voice, his turn of phrase. The sound of his sneakers on the ground.

Estrada took it all in without comment or interruption. When Venn was finished, she watched him for a couple of seconds.

Then she turned her head to Beth.

“Dr Colby,” she said. “Your turn.”

While Beth relayed her account of events, Venn studied Estrada. She looked tough. The kind of cop who’d bitten and clawed her way up the ranks, not by screwing people over, necessarily, but in the course of battling an establishment that was even more macho down here in Miami than it was in New York or Chicago, and was arrayed against her every step of the way. She’d more than likely cut a few corners along the way, bent a few rules. Kicked one or two scumbags’ asses without worrying too much about respecting the letter of due process.

Venn thought she was the kind of cop he’d enjoy working with. And the kind he wouldn’t especially want as an enemy.

Beth finished her account. Estrada hadn’t made notes, just as she hadn’t when Venn was speaking. Venn wondered if she was recording all of this - it was illegal to do so without informing the interviewees of the fact, but that didn’t mean Estrada wasn’t doing it - or if she simply had strong powers of recall.

She slapped the desk top, leaned back once more.

“Okay.” Her glance flicked to Venn, then Beth, then back to Venn, where it stayed. “I need to talk to you, Lieutenant. Doctor, this doesn’t concern you. You can go. And thank you for your cooperation.”

“Hold on.” Venn wasn’t having that. “Beth and I are together, as you know. She was there too.”

“Venn.” Beth stood up, gave him a quick smile. “It’s okay. Cop stuff. I’ll head on back to the hotel. Get a cab.”

He looked at her, then at Estrada.

“Really,” said Beth.