Twice Dead - Catherine Coulter [89]
Adam laughed. He actually laughed. “That’s amazing.”
“I’m sure that old woman who was blown up in front of the Metropolitan Museum didn’t think it was funny,” Detective Gordon said, her jaw out, not ready to give an inch.
“Let me get this straight,” Adam said. “You now think she blew up that old woman to get the governor’s attention?”
“I told you the truth,” Becca said, cutting in before Letitia Gordon could blast Adam. “I told you he phoned me and told me to look out my window, which happens to face the park and the museum. He killed that poor woman, and you didn’t do anything about it.”
“Of course we did,” Detective Morales said, his voice soothing and low. “There were a lot of conflicting stories coming in.”
“Yes,” Becca said. “Like the ones Dick McCallum told the cops in Albany that made all of you disbelieve me. This guy probably paid off Dick McCallum to lie about me, and then he murdered him, too. I don’t understand why it isn’t clear to you now.”
Detective Gordon said, “Because you ran, Ms. Matlock. You wouldn’t come in and speak to us, you called Detective Morales from wherever you were hiding. You’re at the center of all this. You, only you. Tell us what’s going on, Ms. Matlock.”
“I believe that’s enough for the time being,” Thomas said, and calmly moved to stand between the two New York detectives and his daughter. “I am very disappointed in both of you. Neither of you is listening. You are not using your brains. Now, let’s get this perfectly clear: Since you’re having difficulties logically integrating all the facts, I want you to focus on catching the man who kidnapped my daughter and shoved her out of his car right in front of cop headquarters. I trust you people have been trying to find witnesses? Questioning them? Trying to get some sort of composite on this guy?”
“Yes, sir, of course,” Detective Morales said. As for Detective Gordon, she wanted to tell him to go hire his daughter a fancy lawyer, that Dick McCallum had been murdered, that she could have had something to do with that, too, maybe revenge, since McCallum had blown the whistle on her. She opened her mouth, all worked up, but Thomas Matlock said quietly, “Actually, detectives, I am a director with the CIA. I am now terminating this conversation. You may leave.”
Both detectives were out of there in under five seconds, Detective Gordon leading the way, Morales on her heels, looking both apologetic and scared.
Becca shook her head, back and forth. “They didn’t even want to know anything about him. Don’t they have to believe me now that Dick McCallum was murdered, too?”
“One would think,” Adam said, his eyes narrowed, still looking at the now-empty doorway. “New York’s finest aren’t shining in this particular instance. Now, not to worry, Becca.”
“I think Detective Gordon needs to be pulled off this case,” Thomas said. “For whatever reason, she made up her mind about you early on and is now refusing to be objective. I’ll make a call.”
“I want to leave this place, Adam. I want to go far away, forever.”
“I’m sorry, Becca, but there’s not going to be any forever yet,” Thomas said. “Krimakov got what he wanted. I’m out in the open now. The problem is that you still are, too. Now I’m going to make that call.” Thomas walked out of the hospital room, his head down, deep in thought, as he pulled out his cell phone.
The Feds arrived forty-five minutes later.
The first man into the room came to a fast stop and stared. He cleared his throat. He straightened his dark blue tie. He looked as if he wished his wing tips were shinier. “Mr. Matlock, sir, we didn’t know you were involved, we had no idea, didn’t know she was related to you—”
“No, of course you didn’t, Agent Hawley. Do come in, gentlemen, and meet my daughter.”
He leaned over her and lightly touched his fingertips to her cheek. “Becca, here are two guys who want to talk to you, not