Slater scowled and pushed the record button. "Not if your client has nothing to hide." He spoke into the microphone, stating the date and time, and identifying himself and the others in the room. Then he read Burrows' his Miranda rights. "The primary questioner in this interview," he continued, "is Special Agent in Charge Jackson Holt."
As Jack opened his mouth to form his initial question, Landis immediately interrupted. "My client invokes his Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination."
Jack didn't have first-hand knowledge of the public defender's ability, but he trusted Slater's forewarning that the man was sharp as a tack in spite of his callow appearance.
"Further, you have… " Landis made a production of looking at his wristwatch. "Exactly twenty-one hours and sixteen minutes to charge my client or release him."
Jack saw what Slater meant about the youthful attorney, but the prosecution clearly held the cards in this case. No way was Burrows going to weasel out of the rape charges. Jack wouldn't even be wasting his time on a degenerate like Ted except that he hoped to get a bigger fish – the Dead Language Killer.
Jack decided charming was the way to go with Landis and Burrows rather than the bulldog approach he preferred. He glanced at Olivia, wondering if he still knew how to do charming. Evidently she thought so because the returned look spoke volumes, and he thought he detected a glint of humor.
He took a deep breath to begin his interrogation right before Burrows blurted out, "I want a deal."
His lawyer placed a restraining hand over his client's clenched fists. "Ted, we talked about this," he warned.
"Aw, come on, counselor," Jack cajoled. "Your client's dead in the water on the rape charges. Here in California, that's a sentence of… what, Sheriff," he asked turning to Slater, "eight to ten?"
Slater lifted one eyebrow and his voice was calm. "Nah, unfortunately, three to eight, but he'll get the higher term, that's eight years." He stared off into the reflection of the two-way mirror as if mentally calculating. "Plus the enhancements, the drugs, the tapes. Multiply that by the kidnapping charge and what else we find on the tapes, and Ted could easily do ten years." He paused before adding, "For each victim."
"Rape? Rape!" Burrows sputtered, starting to leap from his seat. "Those women were willing. I explained that."
From the corner of his eye, Jack caught the rise in color in Olivia's cheeks. He could feel the heat of her fury as she sat beside him, her hands folded on the table top.
"Ted!" Landis' voice was sharp and the hand he placed on Burrows' fists tightened in what looked like a death grip, forcing him back down. The deputy edged forward.
"I don't care, man," Ted shouted. "You're just a public defender. What the hell do you care about my best interests? You probably work for them."
Landis' eyes were icy and his jaw tight as he leaned to whisper in his client's ear. After a moment, Burrows relaxed and sat back in his chair, although his face still looked pinched, and Jack caught the twitch in his left eye.
Good. Teddy was getting nervous.
"What's on the table?" Landis asked.
"Nothing's on the table yet," Jack answered.
Slater chimed in. "You see a D.A. in here, Landis?" He looked around as if expecting one to pop in at any minute.
Good move, Jack thought.
"No, you don't." Slater paused a moment, then continued, "You wanna know why?"
Jack jumped in. "No D.A., Ted, because there's nothing to negotiate. Straight up, you're going to do the full time on multiple charges of kidnapping and rape." He shook his head in mock sympathy. "Shouldn't have kept those tapes, Burrows. Pretty damning evidence."
"Oh yeah, then why am I here?" Ted blustered. "You must want something from me."
"Maybe, maybe not. The point is, just like we said before, you can do either state time or federal time on these charges. If I decide to kick your case back to the state… "
Jack paused, let the threat linger, and smiled, feeling like the fox that had just caught the juiciest hen in the house. "See, I'm the one who gets to decide how you'll spend the next thirty years of your life."
He grinned broadly as the final understanding of his predicament showed on Burrows' face. "That's right. I decide if you get to do your thirty plus years in a state prison instead of Club Fed. Hell, by the time you get out, you'll be too old to be interested in girls anymore. In fact, you might find an increased interest in the fellows."
"Hey, there," Landis protested, "there's no need for that." But Jack saw in the lawyer's speculative look that he understood the score even if Burrows didn't.
"Without acknowledging any guilt," Landis said, inspecting his nails, "we want to know what you expect to learn from Mr. Burrows."
Jack almost laughed out loud. Mr. Burrows. What a joke. As a boy Jack had an old hound dog that treated the bitches around the farm better than Ted had treated these women.
"Don't know what we'll learn yet. We just want a little conversation." Jack stood, walked around the room, and ended up standing behind Burrows. He leaned over his shoulder, his mouth close to Burrows' ear. "Conversation like… who else knew about Mr. Burrows'… uh, proclivities."
"No one – " Ted began before Landis nudged him sharply with an elbow.
"My client admits to nothing. Is that clear?" he asked, glancing toward the recorder. "Off the record?"
Olivia watched Jack switch off the recorder. Were they going to let Ted get away with what he'd done to all those girls?
"Sure. Now, who knew?" Jack's growl was a steel rapier that sliced through the room like a clap of thunder.
Olivia shivered and observed him intently. Now he's going for the jugular, she thought, and Ted didn't have a chance. Jack knew how to handle punks like Ted Burrows.
"No one," Ted stuttered, floundering under Jack's glower. "Uh, well… I – I don't know. I – I didn't think anyone knew. Maybe another grad student? Or someone in the building?" he suggested as if expecting Jack to supply the answer.
At that moment Olivia caught the sudden spark of knowledge on Ted's face and knew he was hiding something. That he'd just made a connection in his mind between what he was hiding from them and what Jack wanted to know.
She rose and moved over to lean against the opposite wall where she could study Jack's face. His eyes met hers across the room and she knew he'd seen the same knowledge.
"Come on, Ted," Jack said, drawing the words out slowly, "you would've wanted to brag, tell someone about the girls. Another man, I'd guess, someone you could share your interesting extracurricular activities with."
Ted shrugged, trying to assume a casual pose, but after a long moment, blurted out, "Cur me rogas?"
A startled moment passed through the room before Jack looked at her. "Olivia?"
A thrill of shock confused her, but she steadied herself against the cool stucco of the wall. Ted had spoken in Latin. Cur me rogas?
Why are you asking me?
Immediately Jack changed his line of questioning. "You know Latin, Ted?"
A slow fusion of color started at the spot where the white of Ted's shirt met his neck, a dull red that inched its way up to his cheeks. He drew the back of his hand across the corner of his mouth before answering. "Maybe. A little," he amended.
"Just a little?" Jack asked, looking at Olivia, sending an unspoken message across the room.
Her mind whirled with the possibilities of Ted's fluency in Latin. She'd have to test him, play him, if she hoped to gain information. Walking back to the table, she sat down, leaned forward, and spoke earnestly to him.
"Prima facie tu es innocens." At first sight you are innocent, she said, lying straight to his face, willing him to believe her. Jack had explained that lying to suspects was allowed unless she was a prosecutor so she didn't feel a bit guilty about prevaricating.