20

 

 

Willow Mackie overflowed with details, smirks, and insults. Eve gave her the center spot she craved, and basking in the attention, she rolled.

For three hours Eve listened, probed, nudged, with the occasional question or comment from Reo or Peabody.

Pushing wasn’t necessary, not as Willow warmed up to the idea of being important.

At one point she demanded another fizzy, and around hour three demanded a bathroom break.

“Peabody, have two uniformed officers, female, accompany Willow to the bathroom.”

On a hard laugh, Willow sneered at Eve. “You’ve been listening to all I can do, and you think I can’t take a couple of girl cops?”

You couldn’t take me, Eve thought, but nodded. “Make it four, Peabody.”

“That’s more like it.”

“Interview paused,” Eve said, and strode out.

Reo caught up with her just outside the bullpen. “Jesus Christ, Eve.”

“You were expecting a sulky teenager?”

“I was expecting a stone killer. I guess I wasn’t expecting a raging, showboating psychopath inside a teenager. I need to update my boss, and I want to talk to Mira. I want to make dead certain this girl is legally sane.”

“She’s as legally sane as you and me. And she’s a vicious little bug that needs squashing.”

“I’m with you on part two. Let me make part one absolutely solid.”

“Take fifteen.” Rocking back on her heels, Eve tried to decide if she felt disgusted or satisfied. Realized she could feel both. “I want her sitting in there again, waiting, getting worked up about telling us the rest.”

“We’ve got enough to put her away for countless lifetimes already.

But yeah, I want the rest, too. Fifteen,” Reo said, then hurried off.

Eve stepped into the bullpen, surprised how many of her team remained. “I’m not done, but I can promise you she is. She’s confessed to all of it, and I’m wrapping her up. For God’s sake, anybody not on the roll, go home.”

“How’s the eye, LT?” Jenkinson called out.

“It stings like a bitch, but that’s from looking at that tie. Go home.” She walked into her office to see Roarke sitting at her desk,

working his own PPC and her comp at the same time. “Done?”

She shook her head. “What’s that?” She pointed at her own screen and what looked like some sort of ancient castle surrounded by some kind of cage.

“Ah, that’s progress on the projected hotel in Italy. I’ll have it off your unit before I leave. Coffee?”

“No. No, I need something cold.” She glanced back out. “I should’ve hit Vending—probably literally—for a Pepsi.”

“They’re stocked in your AC now.” “They are?”

“To save you the frustration of Vending.”

She surprised herself by being absurdly touched. And needing to sit down. She dropped into the ass-biting visitor’s chair.

“That bad, is it?” Roarke rose, ordered the tube himself.

“She’s told us everything up to and including Madison Square. I didn’t expect her to feel remorse, to feel anything for the victims. And I did expect her to feel pride. But . . . It’s the glee. The goddamn jubilation. I didn’t expect the extent of that, how her ego rules all.

“It was all her idea. Part of me knew that, all of me wondered. You had to consider Mackie’s state of mind. He’d never have been able to do all this, think of it all. But she did. He was paying too much attention to his grief, and not enough to her. She didn’t say it, but it came across clear. She had no respect for her stepmother, called

her an idiot. She used her father’s grief, his weakness—it wasn’t him using her, but her using him—to realize her greatest ambition. To take lives.”

“Here now, use your own chair.”

“No, no, I can’t sit anyway.” She rose, took the tube from him, then just paced without drinking. “She remembers everything, even remembers what some of the victims were wearing. Sometimes that’s all it took for her to make them a target. Hate that hat—you get to die in it.”

Saying nothing, Roarke eased a hip on the corner of the desk, let her spew.

“She believes the killings, the initial realization of their plan, the progess of their mission, made her father stronger. Gave him purpose. And he focused on her again.”

As she paused, she cracked the tube, drank. Breathed.

“I guess Mira would say there’s a part of her, the child, who craves that focus from her father. His eyes and hands, his partner, his equal, his only child. She brought him along so he could praise her.”

“You considered her his apprentice—we all did. And for a time she was. But what you’re saying is he became hers. She taught him the death of his so-called enemies by her hand—his hand through her— united them.”

“Yeah. Plus, he was her audience, her witness, her goddamn cheerleader. Even when he wasn’t there, as with Madison Square, she knew he’d hear, knew he’d be proud. Knew she’d remain his center.”

“And he proved she was by sacrificing himself for her.”

“Their Plan B—we got to that. She’d get gone, get away, and he’d draw us to him. He’d take the fall. Only that didn’t work on any level. Roarke, she’s in the box, and she’s preening. ‘Look at me, look how good I am. Yeah, I did it, did it all. Because I’m the best. Number one.’ And it makes me more sick than pissed.”

“You’ll be pissed before it’s done. I have every confidence there.” She nearly smiled. “You’re not going home?”

He nearly smiled back. “Do you know the only color in your face is from the bruises?”

“The bruises look good on the record. And the booster you dug up for me helped. I’m tired, but I’m not shaky with it.”

“This should help as well.” He pulled a chocolate bar from his pocket.

“Is that mine?” She shot one furious glance toward the wall, and the framed sketch Nixie Swisher had done of her. “Is that from my stash? Did you compromise my stash?”

“I didn’t, no, though that might’ve been entertaining. EDD has candy in Vending.”

“They do? Why do they rate?” But she grabbed it, ripped the wrapper. “Thanks.”

“I’m going to make it up to both of us by seeing you have a decent meal at the first opportunity.”

“Whatever.” She closed her eyes, let the first glorious bite of chocolate do its work. “Did you check on Summerset?”

“Often enough that he’s now annoyed with me.”

“Okay.” She folded the wrapper over the half candy bar remaining, stuck it in her pocket. “This may take a couple more hours.”

“When I finish here, I believe I’ll wander over to Observation so I can watch you wrap her up as you did that candy bar.”

She stepped to him, let her head rest on his shoulder, just a moment. “Mackie might’ve been a good man once—Lowenbaum thinks so anyway. But he made his choices, choices he can never come back from. She’s one of them. But even without him, she’d have been in somebody’s box one day. It was just his choices, just the timing of it all that made it mine.”

She drew back. “And since it’s mine, I’ll go finish it.”

When she left to do just that, Roarke wondered if she thought of how many more would be hers—victims and killers.

And knew, as he knew her, she did.

B

—

by the time Eve returned to Interview A, Peabody and Reo stood outside the door. Both of them, she noted, looked worn to the

bone. Peabody held two fizzies, Reo a tube of Diet Pepsi.

“She’s in there,” Peabody said. “I got her another fizzy before she can snap her fingers at me for one. Hitting the sugar myself.”

“Cold caffeine for me, as I can’t stomach Vending coffee.” “Hell.” Eve pulled out the half candy bar, broke that in half, held

the pieces out to them.

“Chocolate? Really?” Pleasure put some energy in Peabody’s voice. “Loose pants be damned. Thanks. Thanks, Dallas.”

“Thank Roarke.”

“Thank you, Roarke.” Reo took a minute bite.

“Eat the damn thing, don’t mouse-nibble it to death. We’ve got work.”

“I like to savor the unexpected, but.” Reo popped her share into her mouth.

“I’m going to keep her going, get her to tell us about this Alaska crap, then lead into her own agenda. I want the intent to kill on record. We’re going to start challenging her. The more we do, the more she’ll be compelled to brag.”

Eve pulled open the door. “Record on, Interview resume. All parties present.”

Peabody set the fizzy down in front of Willow. “I wanted cherry this time.”

“You got orange, take it or leave it.” Peabody’s eyes narrowed on Willow’s face. “And if you throw that at me, I’ll have you up on charges of assaulting a police officer.”

“Assault with a fizzy.”

Peabody didn’t crack a smile as Willow hooted in disdain. “I’ll make it stick, you ungrateful little shit.”

It seemed the challenging had begun, Eve noted, saying nothing until Peabody took her seat, sipped from her own drink.

“Tell me about Alaska.” “It’s cold.”

“Your father states that you and he planned to relocate there. That, according to your alternate plan, should something go wrong, happen to him, you were to make your way there.”

“Alaska? About as lame as Susann. Sure I liked seeing it, doing some hunting the couple times we checked it out. No way would we live up there.”

“He was very clear you would.”

“If we needed a place to lay low for a few months, sure, that would do it. Mostly, I went along with him because he needed to hear it. It helped keep him focused on the mission.”

“So you didn’t intend to make your way there, as outlined, after his arrest?”

“I like the city. It’s fine spending some time out west, even up there in Nanook country, but I wasn’t going to drag my ass all the way to Alaska. Plus, I finish what I start.”

“Which you proved by targeting Jonah Rothstein and seventeen other bystanders at Madison Square Garden. But after that, you’d have run into a problem. Were you aware we’d identified your other targets and had them in protective custody?”

“Yeah, yeah. BFD.”

“Is that why you returned to your family home rather than the location you and your father had chosen should you need to remain in New York?”

“They’re not my family, okay?” Those green eyes gleamed with disgust. “Bio-tube, her banging buddy, and the brat they spawned. That’s it. It’s a house, and it’s as much mine as anybody’s. I got my stuff there.”

“Not all of it.”

“So you took my electronics. BFD-squared. I had backups.” “Right. We’ve got them now, too. I wonder, will EDD find any

backups to the documents you tried to hide on your brother’s comp?” Surprise sparked first, then anger. Quickly followed by a so-the-

fuck-what smirk. “He’s not my brother.”

“Same mother—or ‘bio-tube,’ if you prefer. Were you going to snap his neck the way you did his little dog’s?”

Though she sipped from her fizzy, Willow couldn’t hide the quick grin. “Why would I waste my time with a stupid dog?”

“Because it was fun. Because your brother loved it. Because you could.”

“He’s not my brother. And so what if I did? Are you going to charge me with dog killing?”

“Animal cruelty,” Peabody supplied. Willow yawned.

“Go ahead, add it on. Like I care. Like it means a damn thing.”

“You killed the dog, then tossed its body out the window in front of your brother—”

“I said—open your fucking ears—he’s not my brother.” “You admit to these acts?”

“I broke the little fleabag’s neck, tossed him out. If that’s what you want to talk about, I’m done here.”

“Oh, we have more. Let’s talk about your separate agenda or mission. Your separate list of targets, which you attempted to hide on

—we’ll just call him Zach—on Zach’s computer.”

“They monitor mine like prison guards. Zoe thinks I don’t know she goes in my room, goes through my things? The bitch is on my case 24/7, and did jack shit when that perv she married went at me.”

“He never went at you.” “My word against his.”

“I’d like the details,” Reo put in, and made notes on her pad. “When this incident, or incidents, happened. What he did.”

“She’s lying,” Eve said.

“She has a right to tell her side of it. Did Lincoln Stuben sexually or physically assault you? If so, please detail the circumstances, the number of incidents, the times.”

“Bored. Bored. Bored. He wanted to do me, but I can take care of myself.”

“Did you have an altercation?”

“‘Did you have an altercation?’” Willow mimicked. “Sure, plenty of them. He was always trying to tell me what to do, how to do it.

Always bitching about showing respect. I don’t have to respect some loser.”

“Which is why he was on your list,” Eve put in. “You had him, your mother, your brother, your school counselor, the principal. Oh, and you had a blueprint of your school.”

“Not hard to come by. Marksmanship’s not my only skill.”

“So noted. You planned to attack the school? To kill students, teachers, others.”

“It was a thought.” Gazing at the ceiling again, Willow circled her finger in the air. “Can’t charge me with thinking.”

“You returned to the townhouse, used the room on the third floor, added another alarm to alert you if somone came in.”

“So what?”

“You were lying in wait. They’d come home eventually, right? And there you’d be. How did you figure to do it? Just walk down, ‘Hi, everybody,’ and blast them where they stood?”

When Willow shrugged, Eve leaned in. “Not much skill required for that. An ambush, three unarmed civilians. And not much fun from where I’m sitting. Over and done so fast. Is that the best you could do?”

“I can do what I want!” Willow shoved the fizzy aside. “Maybe I was thinking—because I’m allowed to think—how it would be after they came back, after they all went to bed. Maybe I was thinking how it might feel to take out a target up close, with a knife. Like I almost did you.”

Eve held up her bandaged hand. “Not even close.” “Close enough.”

“Take out the kid first—he’s the prime target.”

“You don’t know dick about tactics. You take out the biggest threat first, moron. I’d slit Stuben’s throat. That’s quick, that’s quiet. And he’s nothing. He’s always been nothing.”

“And then?”

“Then good tactics say I incapacitate Zoe, then restrain her. That gives me time to get the kid, wrap him up, haul him down.”

Her eyes glowed as she spoke, as she, Eve was sure, saw it all so clearly. “Hurt him a little—just a little so when she comes around she sees he’s hurt, sees he’s bleeding. I let her beg—the bedroom’s soundproofed. Hell, she can scream if she wants. But if she screams, I’ll just slit his throat. But she can beg, she can tell me why in the hell I shouldn’t kill him. Why I shouldn’t kill this runt she should never have had. This whining little baby she had to replace me.

“Then she has to watch me gut him like a deer, just the way I’ve wanted to since he was born. I save her for last so she can see. With her? I slice her wrists so she bleeds out slow. So I can watch her die, inch by inch.”

“I was wrong. You hated her most.”

“She threw my father away. She took him away from me. She tried to replace him and me with Stuben, with his ugly little spawn. She

deserved to see them dead and to know she caused it. She’s the reason why.”

Willow gestured with her cup. “I could be set up for the school the next morning, before anybody knew they were dead. I could make history.”

“Because you know the school, the routine, when students start arriving.”

“I guarantee I could have taken down three, maybe four dozen targets before they managed to lock it down. Recalibrate, take out maybe a dozen a couple blocks over to add some confusion, and then? Cops, reporters, parents, idiots who just want to look—plenty of them would be in range. I’d have a clean hundred before I broke it down. Nobody’s ever done that many alone, at that distance. But I could.”

“Making you the best.”

“I am the best. That would just be the mark in history.” “Your father wouldn’t have gone for it.”

“I could’ve brought him around if everything had gone the way we wanted with his agenda. I do his, I get mine. It’s fair. He was weak, and this was making him strong again. I’d even have given him a year or two in Alaska for it. But I deserved mine.”

Eve waited a long beat. Color had flashed in Willow’s face, as it had in her father’s. But hers was both rage and pride. It wasn’t madness in her eyes—not the kind that didn’t know right from wrong. It was the kind that didn’t give a damn.

“You’re saying that conspiring with your father, you killed the twenty-five people named during this Interview, and had planned to kill others, also named herein.”

“That’s right, and I’m not saying it all again.”

“That won’t be necessary. You’ve also stated that you, individually, planned to murder Zoe Younger, Lincoln Stuben, and Zach Stuben— additionally torturing Younger and Zach Stuben before ending their lives.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Wasn’t I clear enough? I can plan all I want.” “You additionally stated you planned to attack Hillary Rodham

Clinton High School and other areas in its vicinity in the hopes of killing one hundred people.”

“World record. You cost me the world record. Being a cop’s a dangerous job. Something bad could happen to you, like a year from now. Or, say three years from now.” Willow laughed into her fizzy. “Three’s a good number.”

“You think so? How about I pay you a visit, let’s say three and a half years from now. In your cage on Omega.”

“I won’t be there. You, all of you, you’re so stupid. You’re all morons.”

Now she threw back her head and laughed loud and long.

“You wanted me to confess to all this? No problem. I want you to know what I did. Write it up, shout it out. I deserve getting credit for what I did, what I can do. And in under three years, when I turn eighteen, I walk out.”

“Is that so?” Eve tipped back in her chair. “How do you figure?” “I heard you, you idiots. My father made a deal. He puts me first,

and he made a deal. He’d tell you all this shit, and you try me as a minor. I’m out at eighteen, because, hey, I’m just a kid.”

“So you think you can cold-bloodedly murder—with premeditation

—twenty-five people, injure scores of others, plot to murder—what was that number? Oh, yeah—one hundred more, and walk away free in under three years.”

“Burns your skinny ass, doesn’t it? You put all that time into finding me, got banged up pretty good, too. You had cops all over me, but I still racked them up. But you needed my father to find me, and he looks out for me. So I do under three in some lame juvenile facility, then I’m out. It burns your ass.”

“One of the things about being a cop is understanding it’s the job to apprehend criminals, to gather evidence, which is then given to someone like Reo who carries the ball from there.”

“Yeah, and people like her?” Willow shot a finger at Reo. “It’s all about the deal, the quick fix, the easy way. She didn’t want to put me on the stand anyway. Boo-hoo, I’m only fifteen. I was misled.” All but dancing in the chair, Willow howled with laughter. “I would kill on the stand with that bit. It’s almost too bad I won’t get the chance to drown a bunch of bleeding hearts on the jury with my teenage tears.”

“Yeah, that would be a show,” Eve agreed. “It’s one I’m looking forward to, because you’re right, Willow, you’re dead on the mark. It

would burn my ass for you to do what you’ve done, be what you are, and walk out at eighteen to do it all over again. If that were the case.”

“You made the deal,” Willow said to Reo. “I did.”

“Then how are you going to stop me? Bitch.”

“I don’t have to. You stopped yourself—with some help from your father.” Eve held up her wounded hand, gave it a study, and said, with a smile, “Ow.”

“You want to tag on assault on a cop? Go ahead. It’s all in the same deal.”

“Yeah, it is. Reo, maybe you should explain the deal to her.” “Happy to.” Reo opened her briefcase, took out a hard copy of the

agreement. “You’re free to look this over yourself. The prosecuting attorney for the city of New York agreed to try one Willow Mackie as a minor for all crimes committed before the signing of said agreement on the following conditions. One, that information given by Reginald Mackie led to the arrest of the aforesaid Willow Mackie. Secondly, the agreement would become void, all terms, in the event Willow Mackie killed or injured any person or persons subsequent to the filing of the agreement.”

“That’s bullshit. She attacked me. I was defending myself.” “Lieutenant Dallas incurred injuries at your hand during the course

of your arrest. You resisted arrest, assaulted police officers—that’s armed assault, by the way—and, in fact, confessed in this Interview the intent to kill Lieutenant Dallas.”

“Ow,” Eve said again. “In addition, the information your father gave us led us to a dead end. He said nothing regarding the townhouse where you were located, therefore none of the terms of the deal were met.”

“You set me up, it’s entrapment—and none of this bullshit in here will hold up. I heard you arguing about how you couldn’t try me as an adult because of the deal.”

“Really?” Reo shifted to Eve, blue eyes open and sincere. “I don’t believe we mentioned the deal—already voided prior to this Interview

—or any of the terms within. On the record.”

“Nope. Sure didn’t. Why would we? It didn’t apply. You’re going down—bitch—for twenty-five counts of murder, for conspiracy to

murder, for multiple assaults with a deadly. Then there’s attempted murder on a police officer, assault with a deadly on same. There’s possession of illegal weapons, possession and use of false identification. And the record will show, in your own words, your intent to murder your family and others.

“I see a hundred years—maybe more—of life in a cage on Omega. The sun’s not going to shine for you again, Willow.”

“It’ll never happen.” But for the first time, fear lit in Willow’s eyes. “I’m fifteen. You’re not going to lock me up forever when I’m only fifteen.”

“Keep thinking that—and maybe touch base with Rayleen Straffo if you see her on Omega. She was ten when I closed the cage door on her. You guys should really hit it off.”

“I know my rights! I know my rights! None of this Interview is valid.

I’m a minor. Where’s my child services representative?”

“You never asked for one—and . . .” Reo took another document out of her briefcase. “We obtained your mother’s permission to interview you.”

“She can’t speak for me.”

“Legally, she can. Of course, if you’d asked for a representative, or a lawyer, one would have been provided for you.”

Reo folded her hands neatly on her briefcase. “Willow Mackie, you have confessed, on this record, in detail, to the charges Lieutenant Dallas listed. There are more to add. Given the vicious and violent nature of your crimes, you will be held to account for them as an adult.”

“I want a lawyer. Now. I want a rep from child services.” “Do you have a lawyer you wish to contact?”

“I don’t know any fucking lawyers. Get me one, and I mean now.” “Arrangements will be made to obtain legal counsel for you, and

though you are considered an adult in these matters, child services will be contacted. Do you have anything to add?”

“Fuck you. Fuck all of you. I’m going to fucking end all of you.” “Well then.” Reo rose.

“Peabody, have the prisoner returned to her cell. Interview end.” Eve got to her feet. “It’s the plushest accommodation you’re going to have for the next century.”

“I’ll find a way.” Though her eyes burned with hate, with rage, and stayed steady on Eve’s, her hands trembled.

“You locked your own door,” Eve said, and walked out.

Eve went straight to her office. She wanted coffee. Actually, she wanted a really big, really stiff drink, but coffee would do.

Reo followed her in. “I’ve got to deal with the next steps of this, but I wanted to say, before I do, you played her perfectly in there.”

“Wasn’t hard. She wanted to brag, wanted to rub it all in my face— or authority’s face. I just gave her the platform. Lock her up tight, Reo, tight and long.”

“You can count on me.” “I am.”

Alone, she turned to the board, to the dead.

“You’ve given them justice,” Mira said from the doorway. “I brought her in. The rest is up to Reo and the courts.”

“You’ve given them justice,” Mira repeated. “And saved unknown others from ending up on your board. You convinced her to reveal herself—and believe me, Eve, that record will be studied by psychiatrists, by law enforcement, by legal minds for decades.”

“I barely had to bait her, she was so primed to show off how smart she is, how much better she is.”

“You never lost control, and never let her see you were in control throughout. Her narcissism, her utter disregard for any semblance of a moral code, her need to be first, and her enjoyment of the kill, it came through so clearly. Some will argue her adolescence and her father’s influence drove her to do the unspeakable.

“It won’t fly,” Mira added as Eve spun around. “She’s calculating, organized, intelligent. She’s a psychopath, and one who was given permission by a parent to embrace her desire to kill. I can promise you I’ll tear down any attempt by her lawyer to build her as a misguided teenager, coerced and manipulated by her father. Trust me on that.”

Count on Reo. Trust Mira. “I do. I do, and that’ll help me sleep tonight.”

“You should go home, get started on that.” “Yeah, working toward that.”

But before she could get out of her office, Whitney walked in.

“Good job, Lieutenant.” “Thank you, sir.”

“You locked her up with her own words, but that doesn’t negate the work that went into getting her in the box. Today, at least, the city’s a safer place. I need you in the media center in ten.”

She literally felt everything in her sag. “Yes, sir.”

“I’d take this off you if I could. But the fact is, the people of New York deserve to hear from the primary of the investigation that identified and apprehended the two people who terrorized them for nearly a week.

“Turn that around,” he added. “In under a week you and your team identified and apprehended two people who, if still at large, would surely be responsible for more deaths. Chief Tibble and I will both attend, but we agree the statement comes from you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then get the hell out of here, Dallas, and get some ice on that eye.”

When she went out to the bullpen, she saw Roarke talking with Lowenbaum beside Peabody’s desk. Lowenbaum broke off, stepped to her, held out a hand.

“Thanks.” “Back at you.”

“Buy you a drink?”

“Media conference, then I’m going to sleep for a couple years.

After that.” “Deal.”

She turned to Roarke, shoved a hand through her hair. “It’s going to be a little while longer. We’ve got a media conference, then I’ll deal with the paperwork, and we can go.”

“I’ll be here when you’re done.” “Peabody, let’s get this over with.”

“I’m skipping the media deal. I’m finishing the paperwork. I want to go home, too,” Peabody said before Eve could object. “They don’t need me in the media center, and I need to tie this up. I really need to tie it up and put it away.”

Eve looked at her partner’s tired face, hollow eyes. “Okay. Good work, Peabody.”

“Good work all around.”

With a nod, Eve headed out to give New York a face, such as it was.