“Record on.” She read off the data. “There’s one suit in here too many.” She shot up a hand before any one of them could speak. “Anything over two reps is at my discretion. One of you get out.”
“As Mr. Chase is a British citizen and the absurd charges levied against him so serious, we require special representation for international law, for criminal law, and for tax law.”
“I don’t much care what you require. One of you get out. Now, or this interview is over, and your client goes back to sit in his cell until you’re down to two.”
“We expect some courtesy.”
“You’re not going to get it. Detective.” She turned for the door.
“I can handle international and criminal.” The lone woman, a brunette of about fifty, spoke in clear, unaccented tones. “I think it’s in our client’s interest to have this straightened out as soon as possible.”
One of the men rose, strode stiffly out of the room.
“Mr. Chase, you’ve been read the Revised Miranda, is this correct?”
When he sat stonily silent, the woman spoke again. “Mr. Chase acknowledges the reading of his rights.”
“I hear that from him, on record, or again, this interview is over.”
“I was read my rights,” Chase snapped. “And manhandled. I intend to file charges of police brutality.”
“You look okay to me. Are you requesting a physical examination to document any injuries you may have incurred during your arrest?”
“You attacked me.”
“Beg to differ, and the assault against me was recorded. Now, do you understand your rights and obligations, Mr. Chase? He answers,” Eve said again. “On record.”
“I understand them, such as they are in this uncivilized city of yours.”
“Good. In this uncivilized city we like to put people in cages for their entire natural life for various offenses. Now, where should we start?”
“Lieutenant.” The brunette took a sheet of paper from her briefcase. “If we could clear up the matter of one Tandy Willowby residing temporarily in Ms. Bullock and Mr. Chase’s New York home?”
“Residing? Is that what you Brits call it when a woman’s locked in a room and held against her will?” She shook her head at Baxter. “And they say we speak the same language.”
“Didn’t look like she was residing to me. Bet you like women locked up and helpless, Chase. Pregnant, too, so they can’t fight you off. Fucking pervert.”
“We will make note of any obscenities,” the brunette said primly.
“Wanker.” Eve grinned darkly at Chase. “I bet you watched Tandy on that security screen while you slapped the monkey.”
“You disgusting bitch.”
“Mr. Chase.” The brunette laid a hand over his. “Lieutenant, please. I believe we can clear this up quickly, and move on. I have here a statement Ms. Bullock dictated to her representative, and which Mr. Chase has corroborated and signed. I’d like to read it into evidence.”
“Help yourself.”
“On Thursday, shortly after six P.M., Ms. Bullock noticed Ms. Willowby on Madison Avenue, where Ms. Bullock had been shopping. In May of last year, Ms. Willowby had enlisted the help of the Bullock Foundation to assist her in placing her child for adoption. However, Ms. Willowby failed to keep subsequent appointments with the counselor, the obstetrician, and the placement agency. Relieved to see her well, Ms. Bullock approached her. At that time, Ms. Willowby became quite distraught and begged Ms. Bullock for help. Concerned, Ms. Bullock helped Ms. Willowby to her car, intending to have her driven home. But Ms. Willowby only became more hysterical, to the point of threatening suicide. She was nearly at term and had realized, she stated, that she could not raise the child, having neither the emotional nor the financial wherewithal. Out of concern, and with a desire to assist, Ms. Bullock took the young woman to her home – with Ms. Willowby’s full consent. She lodged Ms. Willowby there, arranged for medical assistance, and began to make arrangements for counseling and for adoption proceedings should Ms. Willowby remain in the same state of mind.”
“You can just stop there, because we didn’t bring shovels, and that’s the biggest load of bullshit we may have ever had dumped in this room. We’ve got you on Tandy, Chase. Not only her statement, but the statements of five cops and one civilian, who will all testify she was locked in a room against her will.”
“Ms. Willowby’s state of mind,” the lawyer began, and Eve shoved up from her chair, got in her face.
“I wonder what your state of mind would’ve been if you’d been locked in a room, examined by a medical droid without your consent. You can cram your statement and the rest of this bullshit. You can cram it, sister, because when Stuben and company goes down, your ass is very likely going to be hanging naked in the wind.”
“If this interview can’t be conducted with some measure of decorum – ”
“Screw decorum and you with it. You don’t like it, there’s the door.” She shifted to Chase. “EDD is even now mining the medical droid’s memory banks. I don’t have to waste my time on that, because you’re going down for it, Win, you and Mommy. Oh, by the way, did you tell your representatives you were sleeping with Mommy when we took you down?”
“Shut up.”
“Lieutenant, please.” The female lawyer held up a hand, but Eve had seen the blink of shock. “Impugning Ms. Bullock’s and Mr. Chase’s reputations is unacceptable.”
“Here, again in the uncivilized U.S., so is incest. Twenty-five to life for the abduction and held-against-will of Tandy Willowby. And if we find you raped her while she was held – ”
“I never touched that filthy slut!”
“Oh?” Eve flipped through one of the files. “Right, right, you don’t play that game, because it’s all about Mommy.”
“Maybe he likes – what do you call them – Nancy boys,” Baxter suggested. “Yeah, I bet this one likes to stick it to little boys when he’s not doing it with Mom.”
“You revolt me. We’ll bury both of you before this is done.”
“No, he wouldn’t play with boys,” Eve said. “Mommy wouldn’t like it. Didn’t rape Tandy either, did you, Win? Never got it up for anyone but your mother. Can’t get the wood on for anyone but her, can you?”
At Eve’s words, Chase shoved out of the chair, lunged toward her. It took both the lawyers and Baxter to hold him back.
“Lieutenant, this is simply unacceptable. I won’t have my client spoken to in this way.”
“Write a complaint.” She rose, circled around, leaned over the back of Chase’s shoulder. He was breathing hard, and she could feel the heat pumping off of him. “You didn’t rape Natalie either. Another filthy slut? Not like your mother, who’s important and understands you, your needs. You and your mother have so many secrets. Isn’t that what she told you when she touched you when you were a boy? A secret, just between the two of you. As long as you’re a good boy, do what your mother says, everything’s fine.
“Then that bitch Copperfield started poking around where she had no business, and she was going to try to take you down. She had the nerve to question your business. Did your mother tell you to do it, Win? I think so. You do what your mother tells you, or there’s no sack time with her. Did she tell you to use Randall Sloan’s car? Found your hair in it.”
“My client and Mr. Randall Sloan were acquainted. He might have ridden in that car at any time.”
“Driven it,” Eve corrected. “Hair was on the driver’s seat. Your hair. Your DNA, just like your DNA was on Bick Byson’s knuckles. Popped you before you could use your stunner – you coward. Don’t know how to fight like a man, but then you’re not a man. Just a boy who sleeps with his mother. Still, it was easy to slap around some woman half your size, bind her up. Break her fingers, beat her face, burn her skin. You enjoyed it, just like you enjoyed watching her eyes when you strangled her. I bet it’s the only way you get it up when you’re not with your mother.”