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Echoes in Death(121)

By:J.D. Robb


Eve went back to her office, sat and studied her board. Then just closed her eyes until the lawyer sent word they were ready.

“I got her, Dallas. She relocated, married, took her husband’s name, but I got her. She says she’s put it all behind her, has nothing to say. But, my take? When we can tell her the charges, when we can tell her he’s going away? She’ll talk to us.”

“Good enough for now. Dallas and Peabody reentering Interview. So?” This time she sat, let the files drop with a weighty thump. “All set?”

“My client refutes all charges.”

“Seriously?”

“Lieutenant, this is no joking matter. These crimes are heinous, and even if the hint of them leaks into the media, my client’s reputation will suffer irreparable damage. Should this occur, you will have opened yourself and this department up to a civil suit.”

Eve began opening files, removing crime scene photos. “Neville and Rosa Patrick suffered irreparable damage. Lori and Ira Brinkman suffered irreparable damage.”

“None of those victims can identify my client as their attacker. I know Neville and Rosa personally and well. They would be appalled by these accusations, the outrageous and heinous accusations you’ve made against a member of their family.”

“I expect they will be. Did your client tell you about his treasure trove, his personal souvenir room? We got in, Kyle, in case you’re wondering. You’ve got some e-skills, but I had a master geek with me. He slid through your security like butter. Want to see what we found behind a locked door in your client’s residence, Mr. Drummond? On screen, Peabody.”

“Record of search, Knightly, Kyle’s residence, cue mark 33.42.6, on screen.”

Trueheart’s slow and steady three-sixty showed all.

“We’ve got your girlfriend up in EDD. She’s already talked to me.”

“Bullshit,” Kyle muttered, but was silenced by a sharp look from the lawyer.

“Owning a droid, having a private room, the equipment I see, the personal items, is hardly a crime. Is hardly evidence pertaining to accusations of this nature.”

“Zoom in, Peabody. You see here on this display cabinet the names of the female victims, and in each compartment so labeled are their personal items of jewelry taken from their homes on the nights of the attacks. You see here on the shelves…”

She waited for Peabody to adjust. “Other items listed as stolen on the nights of the attacks. The dresses—including the one the droid is wearing—were stolen from the female victims on the nights of the attacks. You see here the costumes and professional makeup and the props used by Mr. Knightly on the nights of those attacks, including the black coat tagged in this recording, and these black leather gloves on which we found blood, blood that has been matched to Miko and Xavier Carver. You see this weighted sap on which we found the blood of those victims, as well as traces of Anthony Strazza’s.

“How did all these items come to be in your possession, Mr. Knightly?”

“Please refer your questions to me,” Drummond told her.

“Why? He hasn’t told you dick. You know it, I know it. When did you get the idea for it, Kyle? The costumes, the drama of it? It had to take you a while to set it all up. We found the mini cams, and the recordings from them on your comp. Easy to see how you’d plant them in your cousin’s place—and you were smart enough to take them out on the night you beat the crap out of him and raped his wife. I figure you did some legwork, slipped into the other places—and the ones you’ve yet to hit.”

Keeping her gaze on Kyle’s, she leaned back. “Jacie and Roderick Corbo, Gregor and Camilla Jane Lester, Toya L’Page and Gray Burroughs—and more. We’ve got a team going to the residences on your target list, taking the cams you planted into evidence. You watched them in their own homes, you perverted little fuck—”

“Lieutenant!” Drummond objected, but she just rolled over him.

“You listened to the their private conversations. It gave you your windows—when they’d be out and gone, their schedules, their routines. And you watched those recordings in that room, imagining what you’d do to them, especially her.”

“Fix this.” Kyle turned on his lawyer. “Now. I’m not going to sit here and listen to this bullshit.”

“Lieutenant, I’d like another moment to consult with—”

“I don’t want to consult,” Kyle exploded. “I said fix this, and fix it now.”

“Lieutenant, I require time to speak to my client off this record.”