“This interview is terminated,” the brunette began.
“I’d enjoy watching yours,” Chase said softly.
“You going to let the girl lawyer say what you do? Just like Mommy. Do this, Win, do that. Good dog.”
“Nobody tells me what to do. Shut up!” he shouted at his lawyer. “Stupid git. I’ve had enough of this. Enough of being questioned by this person, of being placated by you. I’ve done no more than what needed to be done. It was Randall Sloan who hired some thug to kill those people. He confessed before he hanged himself.”
“How do you know? Were you there?”
“You told us yourself.”
“No, I didn’t. I said Randall Sloan was found hanging, period. He didn’t self-terminate. You killed him, and staged it. Because you’re a spineless coward. You killed Sophia Belego, Rome, and Emily Jones, Middlesex, England. Pregnant women must be an offense to your eye.”
“’Cause he can’t get it up except with Mommy Dearest,” Baxter said.
“It has nothing to do with sex! They signed a contract!” He slammed his fist on the table. “They signed a legal document, and we gave our word to properly screened parents. They had no right!”
“Yeah, carting a fetus around for nine months doesn’t give you any rights to it. You snatched Sophia Belego, didn’t you? Took that kid, got rid of the incubator. Didn’t work so well with Emily Jones. Lost the product on that one. How many others, Chase?”
“We provide a service!” he shouted over his lawyers’ warnings. “We give our time, our expertise, our name to help these women in trouble, through their own doing, their own weaknesses, and give a gift to worthy couples.”
“For a nice, fat fee.”
“They’re paid, aren’t they? Given a chance to better themselves while the child is properly raised. How dare you question me?”
He literally shook off the lawyer to his left, and backhanded the one on his right. “I don’t need to justify my actions.” He surged to his feet.
The brunette wiped at her bloody lip and tried to stand. “This interview is – ”
“Shut up! Didn’t I tell you to shut the hell up?”
“Natalie Copperfield,” Eve said flatly. “Bick Byson, Randall Sloan.”
“Sneaking around, sticking their noses into our business. Sloan’s fault for being sloppy. Lazy, incompetent.”
“So you had to kill them. All of them. It was a matter of pride,” Eve continued calmly. “Of business.”
“The Bullock Foundation needed to be protected. It’s bigger than any of those pathetic people. My mother is the heart of the foundation and has taken it beyond what it was. It was blackmail against us, all of them. What I did was self-defense, to preserve an important charitable institution.”
With a handkerchief still pressed to her bleeding lip, the brunette lifted a hand. “We need to consult with our client.”
“You’re fired.” Chase bared his teeth as he swung around violently enough to have both lawyers scrambling back. “Do you think I need you? Idiots. Panderers. Get out. I’ve had enough of both of you. Out of my sight.”
“Mr. Chase – ”
“Now! I can and will speak for myself,” he said as the lawyers emptied out of the room.
Now, Eve thought, we’ll do this thing. She kept her face blank, her voice even. “Mr. Chase, for the record, you have dismissed your representatives?”
He curled his lip at Eve. “I speak for myself.”
“You’re waiving your right to counsel at this time?”
“How many times do I have to say it, you ignorant twit.”
“That’s probably enough. Let the record show Mr. Chase has dismissed his representatives and has agreed to continue this interview without the benefit of legal counsel.”
She paused, put a concerned, respectful look on her face. “Blackmail, you said? That puts a different face on it. Why don’t you tell us how this started? You were informed by Randall Sloan that Natalie Copperfield was asking questions,” Eve began.
And he gave them every last detail.
21
PEABODY HAD A TUBE OF PEPSI WAITING WHEN Eve came out. “You usually like your caffeine cold after a hot interrogation.” She held one out to Baxter. “Wasn’t sure about you.”
“I’ll take it any way I can get it.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that from several women,” Eve said before she took a deep drink.
For the first time in hours, Baxter laughed. “Thanks for letting me take that scum down with you, Dallas. I’m going to contact Palma, let her know we’ve got him.”
“Dallas, Jacob Sloan came in while you were in Interview. They put him in the lounge.”
“Okay, I’ll take him. You can have Bullock brought up.”
“Sure you don’t want a break before her? You’ve been at this for nearly six hours, pretty much straight.”
“I’m tying it up, wrapping it up, writing it up.” She rubbed at the stiffness in her neck. “Then I’m going home, and so are you.”
“Yay. I’ll have her brought up.”
Eve carried her drink into the lounge, scrubbed her hands over her face, then walked over to sit at the table across from Jacob Sloan.
He looked older, more frail, and exhausted.
“Mr. Sloan, you should go home, be with your family.”
“Did Winfield Chase kill my son? I have sources,” he said when Eve lifted her eyebrows. “I know he was arrested, along with his mother. I can’t see Madeline doing more than pulling strings, so I’m asking you, did Winfield Chase kill my son?”
“Yes. He’s just confessed. He staged the suicide to implicate your son in the murders of Natalie Copperfield and Bick Byson, who he also has confessed to killing.”
When he folded his lips tight, nodded, Eve rose. She broke her boycott on Vending and programmed a bottle of water. She sat back down, put it in front of him.
“Thank you.” His hand shook a little as he lifted the bottle and drank. “My son was a disappointment to me, in many ways. He was selfish and lazy and gambled away his youth, his marriage, his reputation. But he was my son.”
“I’m very sorry for your loss.”
He drank more, slowly, then breathed out. “Natalie and Bick, they were bright and they were clean. Their lives together were just beginning. I’ll regret…” Once again he pressed his lips together. “Have their families been told?”
“It’s being done now.”
“Then I’ll wait until tomorrow before I contact them. Why did he kill them? Can you tell me?”
“I can tell you that Natalie was doing her job, and she found something she tried to fix, tried to make right.”
“My son. He was not doing his job.” He shook his head when Eve said nothing. “This will be hard, very hard, on my grandson, on my wife.”
“Then you should be with them, Mr. Sloan.”
“Yes, I should be with them.” He got to his feet. “Anything you need from me, my family, my firm to make certain Winfield Chase spends every last second of his life in prison, you have only to ask.” He held out his hand. “Thank you.”
Eve sat another moment after he’d gone, finished off her drink. Then she went into the washroom, scrubbed cold water over her face.
She went to face down Madeline Bullock.
Word had gone out, Eve imagined, as there were only two lawyers with her.
“Record on,” Eve said and started the routine.
“Your son’s confessed to five counts of murder,” she began, watching Madeline’s eyes. “I see you’ve got wind of that. He’s also detailed your involvement in each of these murders, and in the abduction of Tandy Willowby.”