“Did you and Silverman arrange to meet Jordan Banks at approximately three A.M. in Central Park, and did you stand as an accessory to his murder by Silverman?”
Iler buried his face in his hands. “Yes. Please stop.”
“When we’re done.”
And when they were done, she called on Mira to give Iler a sedative.
“I want to high five,” Baxter told Eve, “but I can’t work up to it. He was pathetic. Just goddamn pathetic.”
“Go home, get some sleep instead. Good work.”
“Yeah. Hey Trueheart,” he called as his partner came out of Observation. “Let’s you and me hit that diner you like, have ourselves a big, greasy breakfast. Get the taste of this out of our mouths.”
“Works for me. Do you want to come, Lieutenant?”
“No, thanks. Good work, Trueheart.”
She started to turn toward Homicide when Anna Whitney came out, flanked by Roarke and the commander.
“Jack’s annoyed with me,” she said briskly. “I’d agreed to stay only for the first few minutes of each interview. But I wouldn’t leave. I couldn’t. I’m going to see Rozilyn now. Thank you for finding justice for a good man.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Jack.”
“All right, all right. Go home, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir. I’m just going to write this up, connect with Reo, then—”
“No. I’ll write it up.”
“You? But—”
His eyebrows lowered. “Do you doubt I can handle that duty, Lieutenant?”
“No, sir.”
“You’re dismissed. You’re on medical leave until the start of your shift on Monday morning. You’re off the roll. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good work, Dallas. Fine work. If I see you here five minutes from now, I’ll kick your ass.”
He took his wife’s hand, walked away.
“I’d say that was clear enough.” Roarke took Eve’s.
“He probably hasn’t done this kind of paperwork in ten years. Twenty.”
“Let’s get your coat.”
“I should be able to tie up my own ends.”
He kissed her hand before she could snatch it away. “Lieutenant, do you want your ass—which is surely already carrying bruises—kicked by your commander?”
“No.” She let Roarke help her into her coat. “No,” she said again.
“Let’s go get some sleep. Unless you’d like a big, greasy breakfast first.”