“People do the damnedest things. I have another angle to check out. Feeney will keep you busy if you want to be. I need a copy of the game disc. They’ll hand it over, but they’re going to drag their feet some. If they trust you, you might be able to nudge that along.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“I’ll be in the field.”
He took her hand as she walked to the door. “Take care of my wife.”
“She takes care of herself.”
“When she remembers.”
She went out, started down. She glanced back once to see him at that glass wall, hands in his pockets, and that sorrow that perhaps only she could see, still shadowing his face.
4
Back in the busy hive of Cop Central, Eve studied Roland Chadwick through the glass of Observation. He continued to sweat, just a bit, and his tear-swollen eyes tended to dart and dash around the room, as if he expected something to materialize in a corner and take a nice big bite out of him.
Perfect.
“We’ll take him together to start,” Eve told Peabody. “I’m going hard. He expects it from me now.”
“And you’d give him herbal tea and a fluffy pillow otherwise.”
“I’ll leave the fluffy to you, after I storm out of the room in disgust, leaving dire threats in my wake.”
“And I ‘there-there’ him until he spills his guts.”
“That’s the plan.”
Eve watched as Roland laid his head on the table as if to sleep. It wouldn’t have surprised her in the least if he’d popped his thumb in his mouth.
“While you’re doing that, I’ll start on Dubrosky. He’s been around the block a few times, and he has to know his dupe in there is a very weak sister. I believe his guts will also spill.”
Peabody smiled as Roland cushioned his face on his folded arms. “My guy will spill first.”
“Maybe. Let’s find out.”
She strode in, a tough, impatient woman who seemed capable of taking that nice big bite and enjoying it. Roland’s head popped up even as he shrank in his chair.
“Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and Peabody, Detective Delia, in Interview with Chadwick, Roland, on the matter of the murder of Minnock, Bart. Roland Chadwick,” she continued, using both names to add a little more intimidation, “have you been read your rights?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Do you understand your rights and obligations in this matter?”
“Okay, yeah, but—”
She dropped her file on the table between them with a force that echoed like a slap. It shut him up.
“You worked for Bart Minnock, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am, I told you how I—”
“Can you account for your whereabouts yesterday?”
“I was at home, I mean, I was at work, and then—”
“Which is it?” She snapped the words out, leaned on the table, deep into his space. “Home or work? It’s an easy question, Roland.”