Thrill Kill (Matt Sinclair #2) - Brian Thiem Page 0,45

cell phone. Braddock stepped forward and removed it from Helena’s hand.

“Are we under arrest?” Helena asked.

“Yes,” Cummings said. He then faced Danielle. “Come with us, young lady.” He grabbed Danielle’s right arm, while Archard lightly took her left and led her toward the back exit.

Helena began to rise. Sinclair pushed her back down.

“What am I under arrest for?”

Roberts’s cell phone rang, and he stepped away to answer it. Braddock took Helena’s purse away from her.

“We’ll talk about it downtown,” Sinclair said.

“I demand I be allowed to call my lawyer,” Helena said.

“Downtown,” Sinclair replied.

Chapter 17

A few minutes after noon, Sinclair and Braddock entered room 201, an interview room at the back of the homicide office. Six by eight feet, the room contained a small metal table and three straight back chairs. Helena Decker stood when they entered. According to the information Sinclair had been able to gather on her, she was fifty-eight years old, five-foot-ten, and weighed 160 pounds. She had a residence address in Sausalito, a picturesque town in Marin County just on the other side of the Golden Gate Bridge. DMV records showed she owned a brand-new Mercedes and a year-old Range Rover. Her only entry in the state criminal history system was for a prostitution arrest in San Francisco thirty years ago.

“When can I make my phone call?” Helena said.

“Soon,” Sinclair said. “Let’s sit and talk.” Sinclair and Braddock sat at opposite ends of the table and had Helena sit between them.

“I know my rights, and I have the right to call my attorney.”

“You have the right to make two phone calls when you’re booked,” Sinclair said. “It can take up to twelve hours for that to happen.”

“What are you arresting me for?”

“Sections two-sixty-six-H and I, pimping and—”

“I know what they are,” she said. “Danielle’s a snitch, huh?”

“I’m not interested in talking about what you did,” Sinclair said. “I’m not reading you your rights. I don’t even want to arrest you.”

“Then open the door and let me go.”

“We called your agency two days ago and tried to get you to talk to us, but no one called us back.”

Helena crossed her arms across her chest. “I will not acknowledge that any so-called agency is mine.”

Sinclair slid a photo of Dawn from his portfolio and placed it in front of Helena. “She worked for your escort service. She was murdered. I want to know who she saw.”

Helena looked up in the corner of the room. “Is that camera on?”

“Yeah, it’s always on.” The department had recently installed video cameras in every interview room and established a policy requiring the recording of all interviews with suspects and witnesses.

“Lawyer,” she said.

“I don’t want to book you and see you prosecuted for this,” Sinclair said.

“Then don’t.”

“One of Dawn’s clients might be the killer. Do you want him to get away with it? Maybe kill another girl?”

“You don’t get it. If I were connected to an escort service, which I’m not saying I am, to disclose clients’ identities would be the ultimate sin.”

“I guess I have to book you and see if sitting in a jail cell changes your mind.”

“Let me call my lawyer. Playing Let’s Make a Deal is part of her job description.”

Sinclair and Braddock left Helena alone in the room and returned to their desks. Sinclair called Roberts, who said he was with a team of FBI and IRS agents at the escort service’s office and call center in a San Mateo business park, just south of San Francisco. Roberts told him that the Feds had had a major task force poised for action. When Helena uttered the necessary words, Cummings passed it on to agents waiting in the federal building. They added a few lines to a search warrant affidavit. Twenty minutes later, two agents and an assistant U.S. attorney were sitting in a federal judge’s chambers. Once he signed the warrant, different teams hit various locations throughout the Bay Area, including the call center and Helena’s house. They also sent priority messages to a dozen financial institutions, ordering them to freeze accounts connected to Helena and the escort service.

“That’s a lot of resources for the Feds to throw at one woman for tax evasion,” Sinclair said. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I’m telling you what I can,” Roberts said.

“They’re just using me and my murder case, aren’t they?”

“I’d like to think of it as a cooperative effort,” Roberts said. “We didn’t have anywhere near the people and money at OPD to do what they accomplished.”

“How’d they turn a prostitution

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024