Daniel Annechino - Hypocrisy

“The question,” Dupree asked, “is why? What’s the motive?”

“Until we track her down, it’s anybody’s guess.”

When they reached Brenda’s cubicle, they found her sitting in front of the computer, arms folded across her chest, chair reclined as far back as it would go, staring at the flat screen.

Dupree held up the latté and brownie. “As promised, here’s your morning treat.”

Brenda beamed with a broad smile. “You’re the best, Missy.”

“Any luck with tracking down that account number?” Dupree asked.

Brenda cocked her head to one side. “Girl, you know better than that.” She set down her brownie, took a sip of the drink, and hit a few keys. She pointed to the screen. “C27-4150-6930 is an off-shore account number at GCI Trust Ltd., which, by the way, is Grand Cayman Island Trust, Limited. It took some doing but after being transferred to six different people, I finally spoke to someone who would help me. The account is in the name of Oscar Cassano. But here’s the kicker: The custodian for the account is none other than Margaret Hansen.”

“How shocking,” Dupree said. “Were you able to find out how much is in the account?”

“Six-hundred-fifty-thousand. USA legal tender.”

“Maybe that’s why we can’t locate her,” T.J. said. “She’s probably drinking a piña colada somewhere in the Caribbean.”

Dupree thought for a minute. “Brenda, is it possible to run a report for the passenger manifest for all the major airlines that fly to the Cayman Islands?”

“It’ll be a challenge,” Brenda said. “But let’s see what I can do.” She grinned. “It might cost you another latté and brownie.”

“I’ll do better than that,” Dupree said. “How about a box of chocolate truffles from Jacques Torres?”

“You got yourself a deal, Sugar.”

About to step away, Dupree’s cell phone rang. “Detective Dupree.”

“Hi, Detective, this is Officer Moretti. We met at the crime scene where Dr. Crawford was murdered. You may not remember me, but—”

“Sure I remember you, Tony. What’s up?”

“That APB you issued on a Margaret Hansen? Gab and I just picked her up at JFK. Apparently, a very alert TSA agent spotted her going through security, detained her, and contacted headquarters.”

“You just made my shortlist, Tony. And that’s a good thing. Where was she headed?”

“To Grand Cayman Island.”

“That’s no surprise.”

“Want me to bring her to the 40 th?”

“That would absolutely make my day!”

“I’m on my way.”

Dupree dropped the cell in her jacket pocket. “You’re not going to believe this, T.J.”

Tony Moretti and Gab Hirsh, showed up a little after nine a.m. Dupree was chatting with T.J., asking him not to mention Lentz’s murder during their interrogation of Hansen, promising she’d explain her reasoning later. Obviously, due to the latest development, T.J. and Dupree could no longer stay with the plan to pay a sneak visit to Horizon, so she spoke to Captain Jensen and made arrangements for Parisi and Wells, along with three uniformed policemen, to go to Horizon and bring Mason, Adelman, and Gallo in for questioning as persons of interest. Dupree spotted the officers coming her way with Hansen wedged between the two of them. Hansen had a look on her face that could intimidate Mike Tyson.

“It’s nice to see you again, Ms. Hansen,” Dupree said, her tone saccharine sweet.

“Wish I could say the same. How long is this going to take?”

“Oh, it shouldn’t take longer than twenty-five years to life,” Dupree said. She grabbed Hansen’s arm and looked at Moretti. “We’ll take it from here officer. Thanks.”

Each holding one of Hansen’s arms, Dupree and T.J. escorted her to an interview room.

“So what is it now?” Hansen asked. “Do I have an outstanding parking ticket?”

“Where were you going when the officers picked you up?” Dupree asked.

“Well, I was going to Grand Cayman for a long-overdue vacation, but thanks to you, I missed my flight.”

T.J. laughed. “The only vacation spot in your future is a federal penitentiary.”

Dupree bent forward, her face inches from Hansen’s. “We’ve got you cold for conspiracy to commit murder.”

Hansen yawned. “And who did I supposedly conspire to murder?”

“You know the answer to that question,” Dupree said, “But just to make it official, we’re charging you with conspiracy and accessory to commit murder for the death of Dr. Lauren Crawford.”

“That’s absurd,” Hansen said, her face showing signs of concern. “Once again you two are on a fishing expedition but have no evidence.”

“How’s this for evidence?” Dupree said. “We can prove that you deposited six-hundred-fifty-thousand dollars in an offshore account in the Grand Cayman Island. In fact, we know where you deposited the money and the account number.”

“Six-hundred-fifty-thousand dollars?” Hansen laughed. “And where would an unemployed research scientist get that kind of money?”

“Oh,” Dupree said, “I would guess that Oscar Cassano might be able to answer that question. After all, it’s his account but you’re listed as the custodian.”

Hansen didn’t utter a sound.

“How clever of you to pay Cassano a hundred-k in advance and then deposit the rest of the money in an offshore account,” Dupree said. “Too bad you’ll never get to spend it.”

Now Dupree saw fear in Hansen’s eyes. She’d seen this look many times. It always came at the exact moment a murder suspect realized that there was no way out.

“Do the names, Michael Adelman or Dominic Gallo ring a bell?”

Hansen sneered in defiance. “If you’re going to arrest me, I want an attorney.”

“That’s your right,” T.J. said. “But we haven’t arrested you. All we’re doing is talking.”

“Talking? Is that was this is?”

“You have a real opportunity here, Ms. Hansen,” Dupree said. “An opportunity we’re only offering once. If you want to keep denying your involvement, that’s up to you. But before you say another word, let me share a few facts with you. Conspiracy to commit murder comes with a twenty-five year to life sentence. Couple that with an accessory to murder charge and you can pretty much plan on being in a cage until your pretty blonde hair turns white. During your trial, when the D.A. informs the jury that Dr. Crawford was on the threshold of making one of the most extraordinary medical discoveries in history, and that her death, something you were a part of, could delay or postpone her research indefinitely, how do you think the jury is going to react? Think they’re going to be lenient and merciful, or would they want Dr. Crawford’s murderers to get the maximum sentence?

“This is what we call, the moment of truth, Ms. Hansen. If you cooperate with us completely and give us a sworn statement naming the other parties and their role in the conspiracy, I believe we can talk the D.A. into reducing the charge to accessory to murder only. With a little luck and good behavior, you could be out of prison in five years.

Dupree could see that Hansen was thoughtfully weighing her options.

“So, Ms. Hansen, what’ll it be? If you still want an attorney, that’s your call. But as soon as we arrest you and read your Miranda rights, all bets are off. We’re going for your jugular.”

“And one more thing to consider,” T.J. added. “Right now as we speak, Dr. Mason, Dominic Gallo, and Michael Adelman are having a meeting at the Horizon offices. In about thirty minutes, a truckload of cops are going to interrupt their little powwow and haul their asses into the police station. Like you, each of them will be offered the opportunity to plea bargain. The first one to go state’s evidence gets the reduced sentence. One deal and only one deal.”