Apprentice in Death (In Death 43)

“I do.” Eve slapped her palms on the table, stood up, leaned in. “And so do you. Under it, you know. She hurt him. He was afraid of her. Your ex told you, but you didn’t want to see it. Funk helps with that, helps you not see what you don’t want to see. But you knew, you always fucking knew.”

“My client is addicted to a substance that—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Mackie exploded.

“Mr. Mackie, let me help you. Remember what we discussed, and let me do my job. I need to consult with—”

“I said shut the fuck up! What good are you? You’re just like the rest of them, toeing the line, gaming the system. I don’t need you.”

“I represent you, Mr. Mackie. Let me do my job, and—”

“You represent you. That’s how it is. Now shut the fuck up and get out. I don’t need you. I don’t want you. I don’t need anyone.” He lurched up, yanking on the restraints bolted to the floor.

Pratt jerked sharply, and the resulting fall from his chair saved him from Mackie’s grasping hands.

“Sit down or be put down.” Eve straightened, slowly.

“You’re a liar. He’s in on it, too.”

“Sit down, or I’ll put you down.”

“Try it.”

As Eve started around the table, Pratt scrambled up. He stayed out of reach, but Eve gave him props for not running for the door.

“My client is in withdrawal. He needs—”

“I’m not your client! Get the fuck out.”

“If you want him gone, you need to fire him, on record.” Eve spoke coolly. “You have to waive your right to counsel, on record. Otherwise, he stays.”

“You’re fucking fired. I fucking waive my right to bullshit counsel. Come on, bitch, try me.”

“Love to.”

She easily dodged his restraint-hampered punch, took him down with a sweep of her feet. “Stay down,” she warned him. “You’re in no shape or position to take me on. I’m going to give you the chance to reconsider firing your court-appointed counsel. Take a minute, Mackie. Pull yourself together, and consider.”

The trembling ran up his arms, quivered over his chest. “Get him out. The weasel tried to talk me into making a deal. You think I’d take a deal? Get him out.”

“That’s pretty clear.” Peabody got up, walked to the door. “The suspect has terminated his counsel, and waived his right to counsel. I’d get gone, Pratt, before he puts your name on a list.”

Saying nothing, a bit green around the edges, Pratt retrieved his briefcase and left the room.

“Terminated counsel has exited Interview.” Peabody closed the door.

“Are you going to sit, or do I have you taken back to a cage?”

From the floor Mackie eyed Eve. “Your turn will come.”

“Yeah, sooner or later, but you won’t be around to see it. In the chair, Mackie.”

17

He sat. The red splotches stained his face again, and his eyes had reddened more.

Eve took a document from the file, the blueprint of the school, pushed it toward him. “This is part of her mission. You can see where she’s marked egresses, weak spots. You’d have taught her how.”

“No.”