“A cash deal,” Singa said smoothly, “between friends.”

“And when was this cash deal between friends made?”

“Several weeks ago.”

“That’s bullshit. I personally saw said artwork on Banks’s wall on the evening before his murder.”

Singa hesitated—the faintest flicker across his eyes. “Are you an expert in figure studies, Lieutenant? In Angelo Richie’s work? Otherwise, it’s easy to mistake one for another.”

“I have a witness who is an expert on both. So there’s that. Your client also had a half million in cash, his passport, codes for numbered accounts, clothing, and other personal effects on him at the time of his arrest.”

“It’s hardly against the law to carry cash, a passport. As to the codes and accounts, we will submit that, perhaps, my client attempted to game the system—as many do. Such matters hover in a gray area, and we will cooperate fully with any levy of taxes and/or fines, should they be warranted.”

At that, Baxter grinned, looking directly at Iler. “Is your suit here telling you that you’re going to lose up to seventy percent of what you squirreled away—and likely do a little time in a white-collar cage?”

The smug look dropped away as Iler swung toward Singa.

“We’ll discuss that later,” Singa told Iler. “For now, we again insist these false and damages charges be dropped.”

“I’m not going to—”

“Later,” Singa snapped at Iler, and Eve chose her moment to drop her own bomb.

“Sergeant Oliver Silverman.” She waited a beat as color drained out of Iler’s face. “Aka Oliver Nordon. We’ve already paid a visit to the place you bought him. You’ve got to be good pals for you to let him have it for a couple hundred a month in rent.”

“How did you—I don’t—”

“Quiet.” Now Singa clamped a hand on Iler’s arm.

“Eighteen people, Iler. Eighteen. Because the only person you had the capacity to pretend to care about gave his life to save others. Because you chose to use his memory to make a profit, to have some fun, to get some sort of twisted payback. Whose idea was it to use loving fathers to get that payback, make that profit? Yours or Silverman’s? It could matter. Your lawyer will tell you it could matter to how hard this goes on you.”

“My client has invoked his right to remain silent, and his right to legal counsel.”

“Yeah. Who’s next, Iler? What family did you and Silverman plan to destroy next?”

“I don’t have to talk to you. I want this to stop,” he told Singa.

“Give me the name.” Eve pushed forward. “Right now we’ve got people combing through Silverman’s place, combing through yours. Believe me, we’ll find it. We’ll wrap you up and toss you into a concrete cage off-planet.”

Every ounce of color bled from his face, and his eyes went wide and glassy. “No, you won’t. You will not. You can’t prove any of this. We weren’t there.”

“Stop talking, Lucius. I need to consult with my client.”

“Consult all you want, it won’t change a damn thing. Off-planet, the rest of your life.”

“Look at him.” Baxter laughed as he and Eve rose. “He’s starting to think he can make a deal. Eighteen people dead, and he thinks he can deal it down because he’s got money.”

“Not as much as he thinks seeing as the IRS is going to take most. He’s damn near tapped out anyway. Did you know that, Singa? Better get your retainer up front.”

“And your client?” Baxter added. “He’d better pack some insulated johnnies. Those off-planet cages are cold, baby. They’re cold.”

“Interview paused. Record off.”

As they stepped out, Mira came out of Observation.

“Did you see his face when you said ‘off-planet,’ LT?”

“Yeah.”

Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery
Source: readsnovelonline.net