The In Death Collection Books 16-20 - J. D. Robb [431]
“I think we can make that conspiracy to murder, accessory to murder, before and after the fact. Multiple counts. We can probably throw in all sorts of nice pluses like obstruction of justice, tampering with government files, espionage, and that big mama, treason. I think you can say bye-bye to Maui, Sparrow, and those pretty hills in Tuscany.”
“I’m fucking dying. Give me a break.”
“Right.” She pulled her hand free of his and smiled. “I’ve got some good news and some bad news. Good news, from your point of view, is you’re not dying. I exaggerated your medical condition a bit.”
“What?” He struggled to sit up and only went sheet-white with the pain. “I’m going to be all right?”
“You’ll live. You might not walk again, and you’re going to have some serious pain with the physical therapy and treatments over the next few months. But you’ll live. Bad news? Doctors say you’re pretty strong and healthy otherwise, so you should last decades in a cage.”
“You said I was dead. You said—”
“Yeah.” She hooked her thumbs in her front pockets. “Cops’re such liars. I don’t know why you assholes believe us.”
“Bitch. Goddamn bitch.” He fought to raise himself, going white, then red as he strained against the stabilizers. “I want a lawyer. I want a doctor.”
“You can have both. Excuse me, Sparrow, I’ve got to go arrange for a meeting between your superiors and mine. I bet they’re going to have a high old time with this recording.”
“You walk out of here with that . . .” He gasped against the pain, and the fear. Eve read them both in his eyes. “You walk out of here with that recording, and I’ll have your records all over the media within the hour. Everything that happened in Dallas. Everything in that file, including the speculation that you committed patricide. You’re finished as a cop when I get finished spinning those records out to the media.”
Eve tilted her head, and smiled. “What records?”
She let her smile widen as she pushed open the door. “Nailed, to the wall,” she said to Peabody.
And she could hear Sparrow screaming for a doctor as she strode away.
“I need you to take the recording, copy it, write the report. I want him charged fast. Go through Whitney, push the grease.”
“What are the charges?”
“It’s all on the record. He’s not going anywhere,” Eve added as they started down in the overcrowded elevator. “And I don’t think Bissel will try for him again, but I want a man on the door.”
“Okay. Are you going somewhere?”
“I want to play some of this off of Mira, see if any of this new data gives her an idea how and where Bissel might move next. He’s seriously screwed with Sparrow alive and wrapped, and that might make him more dangerous. Nobody’s left for him to go for.”
“There’s you.”
“Yeah. That’d be a nice plus.”
“You sure have a twisted sense of optimism.”
“Yeah, I’m Polly-freaking-anna. Take the ride. I’ll track Mira down and grab public transpo.”
“I get to drive the mag civilian vehicle. Again?” Peabody did a quick tap and shuffle. “Man, I love being a detective.”
“Get Sparrow secured, write the report, get Whitney to push through the arrest warrant, then get back over here and serve it. Then see how much you love it.”
She pulled out her pocket ’link. “Oh, and requisition us a new ride.”
“You’re the superior officer,” Peabody reminded her. “The request should come from you.”
“And my name is kick-her-ass in Requisitions. I put in, they’ll dig up some piece of shit heap with an attitude. They save them for me.”
“That’s a factor. You know, we could bog down the request, and keep using one of Roarke’s. I mean, he’s got plenty of vehicles.”
“We’re cops. We use a cop car.”
“Spoilsport,” Peabody grumbled when Eve hiked away.
She took a cab to Mira’s residence because her body was one massive ache, and the idea of the subway with its crowds and smells seemed like more punishment than she deserved.
Mira