Follow the Evidence (A Mac Everett Mystery Book 2) (20 page)

“This is it,” Madison said as she
led the way. “There are five interrogation rooms here with an observation space
between each.” She opened the battered steel door to the first room. A dank
smell rolled us over.

“Internal Branch officers and I
will be in the observation room next door. Let me know if you need anything.”

I nodded and went to work.

The room, typical of ones I’d used
before, was about ten by ten with an observation mirror on one wall. I knew
Madison and the IA offers were behind it. A metal table occupied much of the
room creating the necessary cramped feel. There were two metal chairs on either
side of the table. Paint peeled from the walls, exposed conduit hung from the
ceiling and the place reeked of urine and fear. I felt right at home.

I flipped over a chair and pried
the foot off one of the back legs with my knife. I tested it and it wobbled
just a little. The overhead light had a yellowed bug-filled glass cover. I
stood on the table, loosened the protective wire cage, and removed the filthy
frosted glass. The light level jumped to near that of an operating room. I
could feel air moving and noticed a vent above the door.

“Can we have the air conditioning
turned off please?” I asked.

I heard a rap on the window
acknowledging my request.

I was at a disadvantage going up
against an experienced cop who had likely used this very room. He knew how to
get information from suspects, but I had some tricks Ian Todd had never
imagined. An interrogator has to convince his suspect coming clean is his best
option. To do that he has to be part used car salesman and part priest. Ian
Todd was an educated, experienced cop and he was bully used to getting his own
way. I had to get into his head. I knew just how I’d do it. The insights I’d
gained from Madison about the man’s ego and bad habits were just the sort of
things I needed to turn this man inside out.

I expected a good deal of
resistance so I’d deal with that first. If I could get him to lie or deny
something important early, I’d have him. There was a knock at the door. It was
Madison and she looked worried.

“Adair just called. Ian will be in
about twenty minutes. He said Ian didn’t seem suspicious.”

“All right. Will he be armed?”

“No, he’ll check his weapon before
coming down,” she replied.

“Is that the stuff I asked for?”

“Yes,” she said handing me a thick
manila folder. The pictures and the dummy CD are in there. The bank and
telephone records should be along shortly. Do you know how you will…?”

“How will I approach him, yeah I
know. I’m going to let him talk for a bit-collegial and all that. Then I’m
going to make suggestions. What did your boss call me-a provocateur?”

“He won’t like that. He has to be
in charge.”

“I know,” I said. “Are you ready
for this, for stuff to come out?”

“What stuff?”

“Things about you and him, maybe
you and me,” I said. “If I have to I’ll use it.”

She studied the floor.

“I’m going to let him talk at first
and then I’m going to shut him down. His ego won’t like being handled. It won’t
be pretty.”

“What then?” she said just above a
whisper.

“He’ll slip and when he does…look
this isn’t going to be…”

“Pretty, you said that.”

“You don’t have to watch.

“I don’t want to, but…”

“Understood. Watch the back of my
head. When I think he’s lying I’ll give a little nod to my right. It will be
small so you have to be watching. Make a note of it. I’m sorry we got…”

“Cut it out, Mac. I’m a big girl.
Good luck.”

That’s what Lia always said.
She
retreated through the door and slammed it behind her.

The rap on the steel door was
forceful, confident. I opened the door and was face to face with the man I’d
seen the night before. He was a tick taller than me, that made him about 6’ 3”.
He was a beefy barrel-chested man with wide shoulders and a bull neck. His
round face was sallow, his hair, close-cropped. Wispy brows, a pug nose, and
deep brown eyes punctuated his smooth round face. His mouth followed a line
defined by a pencil-thin mustache. The whole effect gave the man a cartoonish
appearance. Blue and orange hibiscus blossoms covered his Tommy Bahama shirt
and his slacks were tropical white. Here was a confident man.

“Deputy Commissioner Ian Todd,” he
said extending his hand, “you are the American intelligence expert?”

I ignored his hand and said, “Yes,
I’m a consultant, U. S. Army, retired. Come in please.”

I didn’t offer my hand or my name.
I went directly to the unaltered chair and sat, forcing my quarry to the other
one.

“Commissioner Adair said you had an
urgent matter to discuss, but didn’t give me the details. What’s going on?”

“He was going to give you the broad
strokes last night at some cocktail party. Didn’t you meet with him?”

“Yes, but we didn’t have time to
discuss business,” he said.

Good, his first lie.
I saw
it so clearly in his eyes. The tell tale micro twitch in the right corner of
his mouth confirmed it.
He has a tell.
Getting baseline indications of
untruthfulness was like gold to me.

“What’s this all about?”

“One of our operations developed
information bearing on your country’s national security,” I began.

“We should involve Internal
Security and Intelligence Branch. I’ll…”

“Those were my thoughts exactly,
but Commissioner Adair insisted I brief you directly. That’s why we’re here in
the penthouse suite,” I said, looking around the room. “He wanted to
compartmentalize this information. He has a great deal of faith in you.”

Complements would keep him off
balance until the time was right.

“I see. What’s this about?” he
asked.

“Smuggling.”

He screwed up his face and made a
dismissive wave with his right hand.

“That’s an everyday occurrence in
an island nation. I don’t see what…”

“Smuggling people, it’s called
Human Trafficking. The sex trade…its big business,” I said.

I’d surprised him, but he hid it
well. His eyes flicked up and left. He was formulating a story.

“I know what it is,” he said
gruffly.

“Oh. I didn’t mean to suggest you
didn’t,” I said. “You know a good deal about it, I’m sure.”

“What’s
that
supposed to
mean?”

“Island nation…police force…you’re
second in command, so of course you’d know.”

“What are you getting at? Todd
demanded. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m not getting at anything. I
just said…”

“I know what you said, he replied.
“I asked what you are getting at.”

His nonverbal cues were off the
chart. He was blinking rapidly, wringing his visibly moist hands, fidgeting,
and the rocking of the uneven chair was quietly messing with him.

“How do you think it is that…?”

“If you came here to ask me how
people are trafficked through Bahamian waters I’ll tell you to talk to the
Defense Force<” Ian said. “It’s their responsibility to protect our
territory. If you have a problem with how they are doing that, I suggest you
take it up with them.”

“Oh, that’s being done. My visit
here is professional courtesy.”

“What do you want with me? I’m a
busy man.”

“I know. Commissioner Adair told
me,” I replied. “You may have some contacts that could help us. We wanted to
get your take on things.”

“Contacts? What contacts?”

I slipped a photo of Sergio
Sebastian out of the manila folder. “We are looking into this man. Do you know him?”

“No, I don’t think so. Who is he?”

The corner of his mouth twitched.
Another
lie.

“I thought with your extensive
contacts you might know him, maybe even have met him,” I replied. I put photo
of Laszlo Munoz in front of him.

“You know this man, right?”

His eyes went wide, but only for a
moment. He flicked an imaginary speck of dirt from the table to gain time, and
then looked me in the eye. “I’m not an operational commander. I’m not familiar
with persons under investigation.”

The corner of his mouth twitched
.
Another lie.

“Did I say these people were under
investigation?” I said. “I’m sorry. I meant to ask if you knew who they were.
Let’s try something else. Have you ever been to the Palm Harbor Marina?”

“I don’t believe so. Where is it?”

Strike three.
I could see
the lie in his eyes, and his body language.

There was a knock at the door and I
said, “Excuse me a moment.”

I opened the door. Lieutenant Hawes
stayed out of sight and handed me a sheaf of phone records neatly stapled
together. There was a single loose sheet on top, labeled Detention Block Log.
It was for the period Enderby Cox died. I smiled when I read the highlighted
name. I nodded and closed the door. I thumbed through the spreadsheets as I
took the few steps back to my chair. There were several yellow highlighted
lines in the phone records. They indicated Todd’s phone calls to Palm Harbor,
and the estate on Eleuthera.

“What’s that?” Ian demanded.

“Phone records…and some visitor’s
log, we’ll get to them in a minute,” I said. I put the stack of paper where
Todd could see them. The deputy commissioner was in a full on sweat now. His
expensive silk Tommy Bahama shirt was going to need a trip to the dry cleaners.
His pupils had dilated and his respiration rate was increasing.

“Let’s finish with the surveillance
photographs and then we can discuss the phone records.”

I put the picture of the
Wind
Chaser
in front of him. I left the folder open with the dummy CD plainly
visible. The label Quarter Deck Incident on the CD caught his eye. He couldn’t
look away.

“Do you know this boat? Perhaps who
owns it?”

“I may have seen it in the harbor a
few times.”

“Ever been on it?” I asked.

“No,” he said without pausing to
think.

Fourth lie-he’s going down.

“You’ve never been on this tub and
you don’t know these two men?

“Are you accusing me of something?”

“Certainly not deputy commissioner,
you’re Commissioner Adair’s most trusted man. He’s a good judge of character,
as he’s so fond of saying. He told me that he’s a good judge of character.
Accuse you-no way. I hope with your unique perspective on law enforcement and
your contacts you can help us. Do you know any of these people?”

I laid out photos of Jennifer
Summers, Hannah London and a picture of Lia in a bikini I’d taken from her
Facebook page and said, “Have you ever seen these women?”

“No, I don’t know them,” he blurted
out. He’d avoided looking at the pictures.

The twitch at the corner of his
mouth bounced and his wispy brows shot up. I dipped my head to the right hoping
the cameras would catch the micro cues. I switched tacks.

“Do you know what this is?”

“It’s a CD. I don’t know what’s on
it,” he replied as the right corner of his mouth twitched.

“I had a run-in with some thugs in the
harbor area last night. Your department collected all the available video.
Apparently, that’s quite a bit. Do you know who’s on this…?”

“How could I know who’s on it or
anything about it?”

“The very same thing occurred to
me. How could you know, but you see, this video has more than just me getting
the crap kicked out of me. It has,” I paused for effect. “Oh, you wouldn’t be
interested.”

He was squirming now. He wiped his
sweaty brow with the back of his hand.

“I’ve seen this,” I said as I held
up the CD again, “and it makes for fascinating watching. The cast of characters
is…”

“What do you want from me?”

“That’s a very good question. What
do I want from you? Did you see a
Few Good Men
, great movie? At the end,
Tom Cruise says to Jack Nicholson ‘I want the truth.’ And what does Nicholson
says?

“You can’t handle the truth’,” Todd
responded.

“Oh, you have seen it,” I lowered
my voice to just above a whisper. I leaned closer to him across the table. “Can
you handle the truth?” I said.

He gave me a quizzical look then
realization flickered in his eyes. He knew I knew.

“What do you mean?” he stuttered.
His voice trembled.

I was halfway there.

“I know you aren’t responsible for
this…”

“What are you talking about?” He
shot out of his chair and began to pace. “Is this an interrogation? I don’t
even know who you are.”

“I’m the guy who can help you,” I
said.

“I’m being accused of a crime? This
is ridiculous. I’m leaving.”

Sit down!” I shouted. The contrast
between my calm even tone and the shout shocked him. He reluctantly sat.
That
won’t work again.
“I’m sure you can explain how you were pulled into all
this. You aren’t responsible, are you?”

“What are you talking about? I
don’t know any of these people.”

“Perhaps you provided some low
grade information at first, but then it got bigger. Is that how it happened.”

“No.”

“Once you were in you couldn’t…”

“No”

“Did you do it for the money…?”

“No, I didn’t…”

“The bank records are on the way.
We both know what they’ll show. Everyone you've talked to will be in these
phone records. The video from last night shows you talking to these people on
that boat. You know they tried to kill me, right? That’s how my face got like
this. You told them where to find me.”

I pointed to the pictures again and
said, “You were on this yacht with Sergio Sebastian and Laszlo Munoz moments
before Munoz jumped me. You told them where to find me because your man,
Sergeant Hitchcock, was following your ex-wife. I saw you and the video saw
you. How are you going to handle the truth?”