J. Robb - Judgment in Death

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It was Vernon's bad luck that she was ready to chew glass. He leaped to his feet when she walked into Interview.

"You had me picked up. You had me picked up and dragged in here like a criminal."

"That's right, Vernon." She shoved him, hard, and knocked him into the chair.

"I want a goddamn lawyer."

This time she grabbed him one-handed by the collar and shoved him against the wall while Feeney, McNab, and Peabody stood aside and watched with varying degrees of interest.

"I'll get you a goddamn lawyer. You're going to need one. But you know what, Vernon, we're not on record yet. You notice that? And you notice how my pals here aren't making any move to stop me from pounding your ugly face in. I'm just going to kick you around the room a few times before we call for that goddamn lawyer."

He tried to shove her, found her elbow hard in his gut. "Get your hands off me."

He took a swing at her that went wide as she sidestepped. Then he was doubled over, retching from the agony of her knee slamming into his crotch.

"I've got three witnesses here that're going to testify that you assaulted me. That's going to put you in lockup, where all the big, bad guys will be drawing straws to see who gets to be your date for Friday night. I bet you know what those big, bad guys do to cops in lockup, don't you, Vernon? They can do a lot of it in the couple of hours it's going to take me, given my physical distress as a result of said assault, to contact your representative."

Every breath he drew cut into his throat like glass.

"Now, I came in here in the mood to dance with you, but I'm losing the urge. You don't want to talk to me and my pals, we'll just book you on the assault, then finish up by slamming you with corruption, misuse of authority, accepting bribes, collusion with suspected members of organized crime, and top it all off with conspiracy to murder."

"That's bullshit." He had most of his breath back, though his face was still white and sheened with sweat.

"I don't think so. Ricker's not going to think so, either, when it leaks you're in here squealing like a pig. And it will leak, because I've got a warrant out on Canarde."

Not yet, she didn't, but she would.

"If we let you out, you're going to wish you were in a cage playing house with some guy named Bruno."

"I came in to make a deal."

"Yeah, but then you didn't show up on time."

"I got sidetracked."

"And I don't like your attitude. Fact is, Vernon, I don't need you anymore. I'll have the case wrapped by end of day, and I'm going to take Ricker down, just for my own amusement. You're what they call superfluous."

"You're bluffing. You think I don't know how this works? I'm a fucking cop."

"You're a fucking disgrace, and don't you call yourself a cop again in my presence, or I will kick your ass."

If she had Canarde, he thought, if she was that close to Ricker, he was done. And he'd better save himself, quick and fast. "You want to make your case, you're going to want what I know. I know plenty. You haven't scraped the surface at the One twenty-eight."

"I've scraped it, and I'm busy mucking out the slime on the bottom. That's where I found you."

"I can give you more." Desperation had him trying out a shaky smile. "I can give you a promotion. Names, Dallas, not just in the One twenty-eight. Names in the mayor's office, in the media, and right on through to East Washington. I want immunity, a new ID, and the seed money to relocate."

She yawned, hugely. "Jesus, Vernon, you're boring me."

"That's the deal."

"Here's mine. Peabody, dump this piece of garbage in lockup. And see if Bruno's back in town."

"I believe he is, and he's lonely."

"Wait, Jesus. What'd you bring me in for if you didn't want to deal? I gotta have immunity. You put me in, I don't come out. We both know it. What's the point in my talking if I'm going to get stuck in the heart?"

"Gee, Vernon, now you're breaking mine. Immunity, for everything up to conspiracy to murder. You get hooked to that, you go down. As for the new name, face, location, that's your problem."

"That's not enough."

"That's it; that's all. And even that leaves a taste in my mouth it's going to take weeks to get out again."

"I didn't have anything to do with killing cops."

"Then you don't have to worry, do you?"

"I got a right to my union rep." He whined now, in a voice that reminded her of her father's in the flashback.

"Sure you do," was all she said and turned to the door.

"Wait. Okay, wait. Reps just complicate things, right? We'll do it straight. You put the immunity on the record, and we do it straight."

She turned back to the table. Sat. "Interview with Vernon, Detective Jeremy, conducted by Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. Also present are Feeney, Captain Ryan; McNab, Detective Ian; and Peabody, Officer Delia. Subject Vernon has agreed to give statements and answer questions in return for immunity on any related charges of corruption and misuse of authority. Do you give these statements and agree to answer these questions of your own volition?"

"That's right. I want to cooperate. I want to make things right. I feel-"

"That's enough, Vernon. You are a ranked detective in the NYPSD, correct?"

"I've been a cop for sixteen years. Been a detective in Illegals at the One twenty-eight for the last six."

"And at this time you are prepared to admit that you have accepted financial bribes and other favors in exchange for passing information to, aiding in the illegal practices of, and generally following the orders of Max Ricker."

"I took money. Fact was, I was afraid not to. I'm ashamed of it, but I feared for my life and well-being. I'm not the only one."

Once he got started, Eve thought, you couldn't shut him up. In the first hour, he reeled off streams of names, activities, connections.

He brought down the One twenty-eight, even as he doggedly treaded water to keep his own neck above the swamp.

"Captain Roth?"

"Her?" Vernon, feeling perkier, sneered. "She didn't see. Didn't want to, you ask me. Has her own agenda. Wants to make commander. Plays a good game of politics, but she's got this problem. She don't have a dick and wishes she did. Always going off about how some of the men didn't like taking orders from her 'cause she's a woman. Then she's got that useless husband screwing around on her. She drinks. She got so hot on this op to take Ricker down, she didn't watch her back or look down at her feet neither. Made it easy to pull the rug out, you know. We just passed the data along, lost some key evidence, skewed a couple of reports, and that was that."

"Yeah, that was that."

"Listen." Vernon leaned forward. "Ricker's smart. He knows he doesn't need the whole squad. He gets key men, and they keep a look out for him, and for other recruits. You know who's up for a take and who's not."

"Kohli wasn't."

"Straight as a damn arrow, Kohli. One of the guys in the One two-eight, see, he'd heard something on an op from say, the Six-four. Easy to poke around, talking shop. Then you got a guy knows how to hack data, and you get the deets. Pass that to Ricker, and you get a nice fee."

He lifted his hands, actually smiling. "Smooth. Simple. If the op was after one of Ricker's connections, he had time to change locations, pull out, whatever, so the op's a bust. If it's one of his competitors, he can sit back, wait for the shit to fly, then pick up the clients, maybe even the merchandise, after. He's got key men in Evidence when he needs them. Then the media guys to spin stories his way, the politicians to keep the heat off. Thing is, I've been noticing, last couple years the guy's getting erratic."

"Ricker?"

"Yeah. He's starting to dip into his own stock a little too heavy. Slurping that drink of his, laced with illegals, every time you turn around. He's a damn addict now, half gone to a funky-junky. I mean he's slipping and sliding in a big way, making some bad moves. Then offing a cop. I mean, Jesus."