"All right. If not you, then Olivia here. She has the background for it."
"Um, no. I--"
"I'll tell you everything. About the hounds. The Huntsmen. My association with them. Your parents' association with them." An anxious smile as I reacted. "That one intrigues you, doesn't it? I can answer every question you have, for the small price of 'removing' a man who, as you will discover, richly deserves it."
"The name?" Gabriel said.
Chandler turned to him.
"I will require a name."
A genuine smile spread across Chandler's face. "How quickly your ethics change, boy. A word of advice: don't feign outrage next time. It really doesn't suit you."
"The name?"
"Jon Childs."
Gabriel nodded as if making a mental note. Chandler eased back in his chair, chortling to himself, and I realized he wasn't a sociopath at all. That would imply an inability to recognize ethical boundaries. This was a man who recognized such lines and delighted in pulling others over them, because it proved they were no better than him.
I knew Gabriel didn't have any intention of killing Jon Childs. There were a dozen reasons why, starting with the fact that he's not an assassin and ending with the fact that he'd never play one for a guy like Chandler. But with the target's name, we could track the man down and see why Chandler wanted him dead.
I let Chandler enjoy his amoral victory for about ten seconds. Then I leaned across the table. "People who do what you're asking expect a down payment. I want an answer up front."
"Nothing about your parents. I'm not that stupid."
"What exactly did you do to piss off the Cwn Annwn?"
"I'm in here. They are not impressed."
"Maybe. But you're not a serious threat. You can't unmask them. That's like Scooby-Doo pulling off Mr. Wikles's face and revealing a monster underneath. No one would believe you. There's more to it. You seriously pissed them off. How?"
When Chandler didn't answer, Gabriel said, "By targeting you, Olivia. The Cwn Annwn are courting you. They certainly don't want you dead. Which explains Mr. Chandler's eagerness to insist he was, in fact, not targeting you at all."
Chandler's hand flexed against the table.
"But there's more," I said. "The whole scheme to keep me from uncovering the truth about Pete's and Jan's deaths. Killing Will Evans and Josh Gray. That was personal, wasn't it? Unsanctioned by the Cwn Annwn."
"An unsanctioned use of their tool," Gabriel said. "The mind control. You were using it for your own purposes, which is not permitted."
Chandler glowered at us. "Why ask a question if you're going to answer it yourselves?"
"Because it's more fun that way," I said. "All we need is for you to confirm it."
"I'm not going to--"
"Your reaction already did. Not only did you use their drug without authorization, but you attempted to use it against me. No wonder they're pissed."
"We are indeed." The guard--Ransom--had appeared at Chandler's back.
When Chandler tried to scramble up, Ransom put a hand on his shoulder. It seemed a gentle touch, but Chandler's face convulsed in pain.
I started to rise. Gabriel gripped my arm, and his touch may have been as light as the guard's seemed, but the look in his eyes was rock hard. I followed his gaze to see the other guard and the video cameras trained around the room. Gabriel's meaning was clear. We are in a jail. With armed security. Who will not hesitate to act if we seem to be interfering with a guard.
Ransom bent to Chandler's ear. "Do you hear the hounds, Edgar?"
Chandler gave a jerky nod. "I--I'm sorry. It was a mistake. I'll make amends. I'm doing that right now."
"He is," I cut in. "Let him make amends. Please."