Treachery in Death

Nineteen

THEY WORE BLACK ARMBANDS IN LIEUTENANT Oberman’s squad. Other than that, as far as Eve could see, it was business as usual. Then again, the mood here struck her as depressing in any case.

As usual, Renee’s blinds shuttered her window and the glass of her closed door.

Eve’s glance flicked over Lilah Strong, just long enough for their eyes to meet. Then she moved directly to the lieutenant’s door.

“The boss isn’t available.”

Eve turned to Bix. She’d been hoping for a confrontation there, but hadn’t expected it to be so easy. “Were you speaking to me, Detective?”

“The lieutenant isn’t available.”

“As you are addressing a superior, Detective, that would be, ‘The lieutenant isn’t available, sir.’”

“Sir.” He kept his seat, his eyes cold as a shark’s. “Lieutenant Oberman’s orders are she is not to be disturbed at this time. We lost one of our own last night.”

“I’m aware of the loss, Detective—Bix, isn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

“That’s right, sir.”

“Sir.”

“You partnered with Detective Garnet?”

“When so assigned by my lieutenant.”

Eve waited a beat. “And it appears you share his difficulty in showing the respect due to superiors. Or is that a theme that runs through this squad? As I hold the opinion the boss sets the tone, this gives me cause to wonder if Lieutenant Oberman has difficulty showing respect to superiors.”

“You’re not her superior.”

Eve took a step closer to his desk, well aware the focus of the room had narrowed on them. “You want a pissing contest with me, Bix? Then get on your feet for it. On your feet, Detective,” she ordered when he didn’t move.

He started to rise, slowly. His face never changed—cold eyes, hard jaw. She wondered what it would take to goad him into taking a shot at her. Just one shot, she thought, and she’d have his badge, threaten Renee with a full disciplinary review, and send her squad into chaos.

The door behind her burst open—and told her one of the things she wanted to know. Renee had the squad room monitored from her office.

“Dallas. I don’t appreciate you coming into my squad and harassing my men.”

“Is that what I’m doing?” Eve kept her eyes on Bix as she spoke. “Do you consider it harassment to expect and demand respect due rank? Your men are a disgrace.”

“In my office!”

Now Eve turned, and her tone brought winter into the room. “I don’t take orders from you, Oberman. You’re on the edge of having me file a formal complaint against you, against this detective, and requesting a full review of your command.”

Angry color slashed across Renee’s cheekbones. “I would prefer to discuss your grievances in the privacy of my office.”

“Sure,” Eve said, and strolled inside. She had to fight a satisfied smile when the door slammed.

And it was just plain fun to see, even with the heels Renee wore, that she retained the advantage of height. She tried a Summerset-style look down her nose.

“Who the hell do you think you are? Coming into my squad, threatening me, abusing my men? Do you think because you’re Central’s golden girl you can come here, aim and fire at me? Today of all days. You bitch, I lost a man last night—and you want to talk to me about respect? Where the hell is yours?”

“Are you finished?” Eve said smoothly. “Or do you have more?”

“I don’t like you.”

“Ouch.”

“I don’t like your attitude, your interference, or your habit of muscling in on my command. You’re not the only one who can file a formal complaint.”

“Be my guest. I think we both know, especially since Dad’s no longer in the chair, who’d come out on top on that one. Speaking of your father ...” Eve glanced at the portrait. “It was a pleasure meeting him earlier.”

“Fuck you.”

This time she didn’t bother to control it, and just laughed. “Wow! That really stings. Now, do you want to keep shooting your spitballs, or do you want to get down to it?”

“I’ve already wasted more than enough time on you.”

“Oh boy, I have to say right back at you. However, I actually make it a policy to do my job, even when it’s annoying. I’m here regarding Garnet. I see you’ve been informed of his death as you’re decked out in mourning black. Nice suit, by the way.”

Renee’s withering stare only gladdened Eve’s heart. “I’ll be documenting your sarcasm and disrespect toward a fallen officer.”

“Document your ass off. It has yet to be determined if he went down in the line, and in fact is leaning hard otherwise. And that’s not considering he was on suspension at the time of his death. It’s further not considering he’d have certainly lost his badge and faced criminal charges had he lived.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Well, gee, I’d say I guess you didn’t get the memo, except we both know otherwise.” Eve pulled a disc out of her pocket, tossed it on Renee’s desk. “That’s a recording from my home security that clearly shows Garnet ambushing me at the gates to my home, threatening me, striking me, and drawing his weapon on me with clear intent.

“Your man was rabid and rogue, Renee, a fact I have no doubt you and your father discussed quite recently. No wonder you’re in such a bad mood.”

“What my father and I discuss is none of your business.”

“On the contrary, you’ve made it mine. You went crying to Daddy about mean old Lieutenant Dallas, and it backfired on you. Instead of disciplining your detective for his behavior, you took steps to attempt to sweep it under the rug. And that detective, fully aware you would not and did not discipline him, escalated into drawing down on a fellow officer—with an unregistered weapon. He’d been using when he did it, and it will very likely be determined he’d been using when he died.”

“I—”

“I’m not done,” Eve snapped. “If you don’t immediately request and recommend a random test for your squad for illegals, I will—with cause.”

“What do you know about Illegals work?” Renee demanded. “Garnet had been under a great deal of pressure the last weeks. He’d been working on a lead on the Giraldi case, and it fizzled on him. He’d been working to revive it when you showed up here, pushing your weight around.”

“I fail to follow how my coming to you over your dead weasel somehow incited Garnet to abuse illegals, threaten me, and end up dead.”

“He was on the edge. I was fully aware of his problems and had discussed them with him. I wanted him to take some time off, get some counseling—and he asked for more time, asked to have a couple more weeks on Giraldi. I gave it to him, and I believe he was making progress on it, and on his personal problems, until you insisted on the suspension.”

“It’s amazing,” Eve said in sincere wonder. “Really, it is. You can justify the outrageous, even criminal behavior of your detective, and consider my actions in response not only as unfair but as a contributing factor. Your man was a fuckup, a dangerous fuckup. Now he’s a dead fuckup. You bear some weight there, and how you deal with that’s on you.

“One thing I know,” Eve continued, “is in a couple of days you’ve lost a weasel and a detective. Since I do know how Homicide works, I’ll be actively pursuing that connection.”

“It’s obvious Bill was using Keener,” Renee said wearily. “I don’t know why he didn’t tell me. I know he wanted to prove himself to me since I’d made my concerns known, and he was on notice. Whatever he’d been able to tap out of Keener, or whoever Keener had tried to tap, got Keener killed. Bill followed that up, searching Keener’s flop, then—it certainly seems apparent—arranging a meet at the location where Keener had gone to ground, had died. And that cost Bill his life.”

“That’d be nice and tidy. Except for the fact that you had a detective out there pursuing leads, taking actions that don’t show up in his reports or case files—or in those of the detective working with him on the case. Or in yours.”

“You said it yourself. He’d gone rogue.”

Easy to toss him in front of the runaway train, Eve thought, since he was already dead. But she had another, a live one. “I’ll need to interview Bix.”

“Damn it, you’ve just said there’s nothing in Bix’s notes or reports. Garnet went lone wolf on this—it’s clear. Bix never met with Keener.”

“How would you know?” Eve pumped derision into the question, watched Renee’s jaw clench. “If you had one detective writing his own score, you could have two.” She glanced at her wrist unit. “I’ve got time now.”

“I’m not going to allow you—”

“You don’t allow me,” Eve interrupted. “I’m primary on an active homicide, and consulting on a second, believed connected homicide, which involved a police officer. Bix is entitled to his rep or a lawyer, but I will have him in Interview.”

Eve pulled her com out of her pocket. “This is Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, Homicide, requesting an interview room—”

“You can interview him here, in my office,” Renee objected. “There’s no need to take him into a formal.”

“The pissier you get, the pissier I get,” Eve responded. “Interview B,” she confirmed, and closed the com. “Have him report within fifteen minutes. My division, Interview B.”

“I’m coming in with him.”

“You’re welcome to watch from Observation.” She started for the door, paused. “You know, it’s weird. I would think you, Bix, everyone on the squad would not only be willing but anxious to cooperate on every level with an investigation that may lead to the identification, apprehension, and arrest of the individual responsible for Garnet’s murder.

“But ...” Eve shrugged. “That’s just me.”

She strolled out of the squad room as she’d strolled in. And considered her luck rolling along when she ran into Janburry and Delfino on their way in.

“Detectives.”

“Lieutenant,” Janburry acknowledged.

“I’ve just finished meeting with Lieutenant Oberman. I’m sure she’ll inform you, as she did me, regarding her actions on Garnet’s illegals use, and his apparent working off book on an investigation, his use—in her opinion—of her CI, Keener, as an informant. I’ll copy you on my report on these details, in case the lieutenant misses any in her discussion with you.”

“We appreciate that, Lieutenant.” Delfino’s eyebrows lifted, just a hair. “Lieutenant Oberman states she was aware Garnet was using?”

“And took actions—or didn’t take them—as she deemed best. I’m going to interview Detective Bix of her squad, as he was Garnet’s most usual partner and was involved in this investigation. He may have additional information that may prove helpful to your case, and mine. You’re welcome to observe.”

“That’s mighty cooperative of you,” Janburry commented.

“I’m in a mighty cooperative mood. My division, Interview B, in about fifteen.”

“In the tit for tat department,” Janburry added, “Garnet’s tox screen confirms he’d consumed illegal substances, and alcohol. The alcohol is corroborated by Detective Freeman, also of this squad, who states he and Garnet were together between about ten and midnight at the Five-O Bar. The details will also be in our report, which we will copy to you, but Freeman states Garnet was in an excitable and edgy mood—and had considerable uncomplimentary things to say about you.”

“Oh, golly.”

Janburry smirked. “He also claims Garnet received a tag on his ’link around that midnight hour, which he took outside before returning to finish his drink and tell Freeman he had a fresh line to pull.”

“But though drinking, excitable, edgy, and running high, I bet he didn’t give his pal any details about said line.”

“Nary a one.”

“Nary.” Now Eve grinned. “I like that. Nary a one.”

“He reads a lot,” Delfino supplied. “Considering fresh lines and excitable moods, it’s just head-scratching that Garnet didn’t in turn tag his partner in this investigation. Then again, maybe he was a selfish bastard or thought his partner was a dickhead.”

“Maybe. We’ll see what Bix has to say about it.”

“Looking forward to it. Well, shall we proceed?” Janburry said to his partner.

“See? Reads a lot.”

Enjoying their rhythm, Eve split off to prepare for the interview.

In her office, she put together what she needed, then sent memos to Whitney and Webster, leaving it to them to inform their superiors of the interview she’d scheduled. She put in a request for Mira to observe, if possible.

Then she tagged Feeney.

“Progress?”

“Nobody likes a nag.”

“Hey, it’s been hours.”

“Not in e-time. We’re getting there. We’re close.” He crunched down on one of his habitual almonds. “It’s not like replacing a mother-board, you know.”

“Fine. You should be aware I’ve just come from pissing Renee off, adding some more pressure. She said she didn’t like me.”

“That must’ve hurt your feelings.”

“They’re bruised. I ratted her out to her old man re Garnet’s temper tantrum last night, and if he didn’t head down there and give her a spanking, I’ll dress like McNab for a week. She called me a bitch, right to my face.”

“I’m shocked by her use of harsh language.”

“I could barely conceal my pain and embarrassment. I also tweaked her boy, Bix, and have him scheduled for Interview in a few minutes, regarding Garnet’s possible use of Renee’s weasel, the now deceased Keener, as Renee graciously opened that door.”

“She’s going to want to do more than use harsh language on you.”

“You think? What’s Peabody’s status?”

“She’s hunkered down in your office here. That’s all I know.”

“Roarke?”

“What am I? The freaking hall monitor?” The screen filled with his aggrieved face. “He’s doing rich, important-guy shit. He’s in and out.”

“Okay. Keep me updated. Text only.”

“When we’ve got it, you’ll know. Otherwise, don’t bother me.”

“Jeez,” she muttered when he clicked off. “Temperamental geek.”

She started down to Interview, and spotted Baxter at Vending.

“Did you close up the wit?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” He chose a coconut cream bar, which made her stomach curdle. “You want?” he offered, obviously in a generous mood.

“Not if I were trapped under the rubble of a fallen building for five days and it was my only possible sustenance.”

“I like ’em.” To prove it, he ripped the wrapper, bit in. “Trueheart and I are working the suspect in Interview. We’re taking a break so he can sulk and reflect on the error of his ways. Funny thing, when I came out I saw an Illegals detective going into B. Bix.”

“Do you know Bix?”

“No, I haven’t had that pleasure. So how did I know it was Bix, you may ask.”

“I may.”

“I call it cop curiosity.” He took another bite, chewed. “My LT is butting heads with Illegals LT Oberman, I just have to find out a little more about the opposition and her crew. Hence, my recognition of Bix.”

“Hence,” she repeated. “You must read a lot.”

“I’ve been known to crack a book. Now my cop curiosity extends to Bix in Interview, perhaps sulking.”

“Perhaps.” She hooked a thumb in her pocket. “I can’t tell you, Baxter.”

“Well.” He bit, chewed. “If and when, I’d like in.”

“Why?”

“Is that yet another rhetorical question?”

She had to laugh, but shook her head. “A storm’s coming.”

“As a trained observer with considerable cop curiosity, I already figured that. If you need another umbrella, just let me know.”

“So noted.”

“Meanwhile, it may or may not be of interest to you but there are mutters that you’re after Oberman because she’s on the fast track to captain, or because she has bigger tits. Or because she spurned your sexual advances.”

“You made that last one up.”

“Actually I didn’t, but I wish I had. Those mutters aren’t getting far as they’re overpowered by louder mutters that Garnet was an asshole and Oberman didn’t rein him in. Or that you spurned her sexual advances. Mostly the other mutters haven’t gotten a foothold because people are more scared of you than Oberman.”

“I like fear. It’s versatile.”

“In the right hands.”

She left him contemplating his choices for washing down the coconut cream and walked into Interview, where she’d kept Bix waiting.

“Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, entering Interview with Bix, Detective Carl. Detective, I’m formalizing this as our discussion will involve another police officer whose death has been deemed a homicide and is being investigated by other detectives. Do you understand and agree?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to Mirandize you to keep this interview formal, and to adhere to the letter of procedure.” She read him the Revised Miranda. “Do you understand your rights and obligations in this matter?”

His jaw twitched, just a little. “I’m a cop. I know what being Mirandized means.”

“Excellent. Detective, your direct superior is Lieutenant Renee Oberman, Illegals, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Under Lieutenant Oberman you have often partnered with Detective Bill Garnet, of the same squad.”

“Yes.”

“Most recently, you and Detective Garnet were assigned as lead investigators on the Giraldi case. According to my information, Detective Garnet believed that case was about to break.”

“We were pursuing several lines of investigation.”

Eve opened a file, skimmed it as if looking for specific data. “Were any of those lines of investigation pursued due to information received from your lieutenant’s CI, Rickie Keener, now deceased?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

She cocked up her eyebrows. “You had not solicited information from that source?”

“No.”

“Had Garnet?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“It runs a very high probability, Detective, that as both Keener and Garnet were killed at the same location, their murders are connected, either by perpetrator or purpose, or both.”

“I don’t believe Keener was murdered. I think he overdosed, as his kind often do.”

“That determination isn’t yours to make, Detective. It falls to the ME, to me, to the evidence, which all weigh in on homicide.”

She closed a file, opened another, exposing Keener’s crime scene photos, then slid out one of Garnet’s and set them side-by-side.

“It would be a very strange coincidence if Detective Garnet was murdered in the same location and his death had no connection to Keener’s. Adding to that, you and Garnet entered Keener’s residence, after his death, and performed an illegal search.”

“We believed we had cause, and did not—at that time—know Keener was dead.”

“The cause being a possible connection to your investigation.”

“That’s right.”

“But you had not solicited Keener prior.”

“I didn’t. I said I had no knowledge whether Garnet did. He said he had a hunch, that we needed to give Keener a shake.”

“What was the hunch? What was the purpose of the shake?”

“I don’t know.”

She leaned back. “You and Garnet were working what you consider a major case, one you believed would shortly break. He has a hunch, and you both go to the flop of your lieutenant’s CI. But you don’t ask why, or what you’re looking for when you conduct the illegal search, you don’t ask how Keener might be connected to your investigation.”

Bix shrugged, the first move he’d made since she’d come in to the room. “Garnet wanted to give him a shake. I backed him up.”

“You don’t have much cop curiosity, do you, Bix?”

“I do the job.”

“You follow orders. Did you consider Garnet a partner or a senior detective?”

“He was both. Now he’s neither.”

“Did you get along with him?”

“I didn’t have any problem with him.”

“Friendly, were you?”

“I didn’t have a problem with him,” Bix repeated.

“You had no problem with the fact that your partner and squad mate used illegal substances? The same substances you are assigned to get off the streets.”

“I don’t know anything about that.”

“Don’t know anything about that,” Eve repeated. “You’re either lying or stupid. I’m going for lying as nobody stupid enough not to recognize when their partner’s riding up would make it to detective, and sure as hell wouldn’t make it in Illegals.”

“Think what you want.”

“Oh, I do. I think Garnet had been screwing up lately. I think he pushed at Keener.” She nudged the photos across the table. Bix barely gave them a glance. “Had to be a reason for Keener to move out of his flop and go into a hole. Had to be a reason for somebody to dig him out long enough to kill him. It’s a screwup, losing a weasel that way, especially the boss’s weasel. Then he screws up and illegally enters Keener’s flop, conducts—with you—an illegal search. When he’s called on it, he goes off on a superior—embarrassing his own and earning a rip. But he’s not done screwing up yet. He then gets high and goes after me to the point of drawing his weapon.

“Must know he’s cooked then,” Eve added. “So he finds a drinking buddy—another squad mate, but not his partner. Then he goes back to my crime scene, breaks my seal, enters, and ends up with his throat slit.”

Bix said nothing.

“I think when somebody screws up that large in that short amount of time, the man who works with him knows something about it. I think when a cop’s partner develops an illegals habit, the partner—who one assumes is trained to recognize this—knows something about it.

“What did your partner know about Keener’s murder, Bix?”

“You could ask him.” The tiniest hint of a smirk moved his lips. “But he’s dead.”

“Conveniently. You were military, right, Bix?” she said, opening another file.

“I served.”

“Weapons trained, combat trained. You know how to use a knife. Quick, silent kills—it’s an important skill.” She looked up. “Your parents were military also, and your older brother still is. It’s your heritage, so you understand the importance of following orders. When your LT gives you an order, do you follow it, Detective?”

“Yes.”

“Without exception? Without question?”

“Yes.”

“You respect your lieutenant?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re loyal to her?”

“Yes.”

“Garnet’s behavior, his actions, his lack of discipline, lack of respect reflect poorly on Lieutenant Oberman.”

“Garnet was responsible for himself.”

“You know how the chain of command works, Bix. You’ve lived your life in it. Garnet was a screwup, and that makes Lieutenant Oberman a screwup.”

That lit the first fire in his eyes. “She’s twice what you’ll ever be.”

“I admire loyalty, even misplaced. Garnet’s actions and behavior made your lieutenant look inept, made her look like a fool, showed her to be lacking the power of command to control her man or discipline him. Her own father is disappointed in her lack of leadership.”

“Commander Oberman’s time has passed. Lieutenant Oberman runs a tight and efficient unit.”

“Garnet makes her third man down since she took command. That’s not real tight in my book.”

“Homicide comes in after it’s done. Illegals works the street.”

“Oberman rides a desk,” Eve corrected, then shrugged. “Did Garnet ever brag about how he used to bang the boss?”

His eyes stayed cold, nearly blank, but his hands fisted on the table between them. “You deserve more than the couple slaps Garnet gave you.”

“Want to try your hand at it? He embarrassed her, he demeaned her, he ignored her directives and put her in the position of defending herself, her command. He jeopardized your squad, Bix. What do you do when your unit’s in jeopardy?” She bit off the words, spat them out. “What do you do when your lieutenant is under fire? What do you do?”

“What needs to be done.”

“Where were you at oh one hundred, when Garnet went down?”

“Home.”

“Where were you the night Keener was murdered?”

“Home.”

“What is your response when and if your lieutenant orders you to eliminate a threat?”

“Yes, ma’am.” His voice snapped like a salute. “When and how?”

“And if that order includes murder, do you question it? Do you hesitate?”

“I do not.”

“What did Keener have, what did he know, what had he done to make him a liability? Why did he have to be eliminated?”

Bix opened his mouth, closed it again. He squared his shoulders. “I have nothing more to say to you. If you want to question me further, it’ll be in the presence of my department rep.”

“That’s your right. Let it be noted that not once during this interview did Detective Bix address me as sir or by my rank. This disrespect will be included in his file. Just a little icing on the cake I’m baking,” she told Bix, then rose. “Interview end.”