Brotherhood in Death (In Death 42)

“None at all. The hit came through while we were taking the house—as did McNab’s on the van.”

“That’s handy. So . . . can I tap you for the transpo later?”

“Of course. I’ll clear the time, whenever you’re ready.”

“Don’t hug me.” She could anticipate that, too. “You can pretend you did, and I’ll pretend you did. I’ll probably really appreciate the real thing when this is done.”

/> “I’ll clear time for that as well.” So he simply brushed his finger over the dent in her chin. “I’ll leave you to it, Lieutenant.”

“I appreciate the assist.” She broke cop dignity long enough to take his hand. “All the way around.”

When he left, she took a moment to settle, then got back to work.

—

Within the hour she stood with Peabody and Reo in Easterday’s hospital suite. To Eve’s mind he looked better than he had a right to.

“How can you do this?” He lifted the hand chained to the bed. “Those women murdered my friends, tortured them, and they tortured me. They—they forced me to watch while they . . . what they did to Freddy.”

“They’ll face those consequences. But we’re here to talk about you, and your brotherhood. We’re here to talk about what you and your brothers began forty-nine years ago.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Those women—”

“We have the recording from the first rape. Her name is Tara Daniels.” God bless Harvo. “Remember her?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know anyone by that name.”

“And they say you always remember your first.” Her voice seethed with disgust. “Betz recorded it, and kept the old, original disc, and souvenirs from every victim since in his bank box in the Bronx.”

Easterday hadn’t known about the bank box, Eve thought, catching the quick leap of shock into his eyes.

“We’re identifying all those victims as we speak, through DNA. You’re alive, Easterday, because we got to you in time, despite the fact you chose to run rather than face what you’d done.”

“You’re wrong. You’re just wrong. I want—”

“I have the evidence.” She leaned in, close to his battered face. “I viewed the recording, I watched you rape Tara Daniels, and watch, laugh, drink while your friends raped her. I watched Frederick Betz stick a needle in her so you could all pretend she wanted you.

“Want to see it? I can arrange to have it shown right here on your view screen.”

“No. No. I . . . you don’t understand.”

“Enlighten me.”

“We were . . . we were young, and under such tremendous pressure. We needed to let off some steam—we weren’t allowed outside the security perimeters without permission. And she—she—she’d been provocative, teasing. She was drunk and she’d already been with Edward. And she came on to me.”

“So she asked for it?”

“He said— It was a different time.”

“A different time that made it okay to tie a woman down, slap her around, gang rape her, dose her with chemicals against her will? Then what was it . . . Yeah, after you were done, after all of you took turns with her, any way you wanted, it was okay to ‘douche the douche,’ dump her back on campus?”

“We drank too much,” he began. “All the pressure we were under. She wouldn’t remember. What harm did it really do?”

“But they did remember.” This time Peabody pushed close. “Elsi Lee Adderman remembered and it twisted her up so much she killed herself.”

“Who? I don’t know who that is.”

“Just one of forty-nine,” Eve said. “You disgusting excuse for a human being. What gave you the right?”