Page 50 of Framed in Death (In Death #61)

While Trueheart dealt with Jonathan, Eve walked back to Phoebe, glanced over at the raw scratches on Peabody’s throat.

“Give you some trouble, Detective?”

“I gave her more, sir.”

Due to the struggle, Phoebe had more than a few hairs out of place now. And the cold look in her eye had gone to blazing fury.

“You think you can attack my son, manhandle me, and walk away from it? My attorneys will destroy you, all of you.”

“I bet not. Not only is this entire arrest on record”—she tapped her lapel—“but—” And pointed up.

“See that chopper? See the Channel Seventy-Five in big letters on it? They’re live. Your son’s attempted escape, with your assistance, broadcast as it happened. On-screen, on their website, on all their social media.”

“The boy’s got the e-man,” Feeney added.

“And your tech who removed the court-ordered monitor? In custody. I bet he’ll trade some time off his sentence for telling us how you hired him, how much you paid him. Doesn’t matter either way, you’re done.”

And it felt incredibly satisfying.

“Phoebe Harper, you’re under arrest for aiding and abetting a fugitive from justice. For conspiring to facilitate his escape, for conspiring to remove a court-ordered monitor, for obstruction of justice, for assault on police officers, for resisting arrest.

“We’ll be adding creating and/or procuring false identification, arranging for international transportation using same. And the icing I really think I’ll have a chance to enjoy? Accessory to murder, after the fact.”

“You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

“Funny that your dumb-fuck son said the same thing to me. Here’s the same answer. I do. I really do. And you’re dealing with me now. You have the right to remain silent.”

When she finished reading Phoebe her rights, she sent them to Booking in separate cars.

Reo strolled over. “Well, that was exciting. And you may enjoy knowing that Kopeckne saw the live feed. A little bird tells me he’s already filed for withdrawal as counsel. He won’t touch this. His firm won’t touch this.”

“She’ll get another.”

“Yes, but not of that caliber, Dallas. It matters. She won’t be able to get representation at that level, not after this. Having Nadine record this, broadcast it live? Genius,” she said, and held up a hand for a high five.

“Another layer of insurance. Peabody, get a picture of those cat scratches before you use a healing wand. And let’s go roast their asses.”

On the way to the car, she contracted Roarke. “They’re in custody. Thanks for the help.”

“Delighted. Will you interview soon?”

“In a few hours. They need to be booked, processed. I want to write it all up, nice and pretty. We’ll take the low-hanging first—bodyguard, the e-guy. Then I need Mira, and I’m going to toggle between them if necessary. Hit him first. He’s weaker.”

“If I can, I’ll come in to watch. It’s been a long week and I could use some fun.”

“See you if I see you.” She pocketed the ’link. “Reo! We’re heading out.”

“I can write it up nice and pretty,” Peabody said as they got in the car.

“Yeah, you can, but I want this one. You write up your part, including those scratches.”

“They really sting.”

“Been there.” Eve rolled her shoulders. And thought it amazing just how much weight had dropped away. “How about you run that low-hanging fruit so we see what we’ve got?”

“I’ve got the bodyguard already. Mikah Jessup, age forty. He’s head of Phoebe Harper’s personal security team, and has been for nine years. Fifteen years with the company altogether. No criminal. Divorced, no offspring.”

“Loyalty. How about the tech?”

“McNab reports Shaun Ye—I’m running now. Okay, age twenty-six, freelance tech—he’s done some work for the Harper Group, as a subcontractor. Single. A few minor bumps here.”

“Money. He’ll flip and fast. Jessup will stick. We’ll take money first. Your lead.”

“Hot dog!”

“What’ll you offer him, Reo?”

“He’s more windfall than low-hanging fruit. Dump it down to misdemeanor, six months. Immunity’s possible, depending. We want the payment to wrap around Harper. We want her instructions and so on wrapped, too.”

“I can live with either,” Eve decided. “He’s nothing. A tool, nothing more.”

“Agree. With the bodyguard, I also agree he’ll be stickier. If he flips, gives a full statement, testifies, three to five years. If he sticks?” Calculating, Reo lifted her shoulders. “He’ll do twice that. If he had a part in hiring the tech or in procuring the ID? Twenty to twenty-five.”

“What about Harper?”

“Well, doing some math, adding up the charges?” Smiling, Reo ticked off on her fingers.

“Let’s call it fifty. Yes, I believe fifty works well, though I’ll start off higher considering the heinous nature of her son’s crimes.

If she gets a really good lawyer, we might deal that down to twenty, but I’m not inclined there.

And she won’t get bail, not after this. She also forfeits the fifty million she posted for her son. ”

“I can live with fifty inside.” Eve answered her in-dash. “Commander Whitney.”

“Lieutenant. Good work. I need you to meet with Kyung for a media conference in one hour.”

“Sir, I have APA Reo with me. We’re strategizing before the interviews. We have four to—”

“The live feed from Channel Seventy-Five was a thing of beauty. Beauty costs, and that cost is full media access at this point. One hour.”

“Yes, sir.” She waited until she ended the call. “Fuck it! ‘Good work. Here’s your punishment.’ Fuck it. You don’t need me in the box with the first two.”

“Oh, what?” Peabody lost all color. “You want me to go solo? But why do I get punished?”

“I could say because, but take McNab in for the tech. They speak the same weird language. You can pull Jenkinson for the guard. If he’s not available, Baxter.”

“I don’t get to be bad cop, do I?”

“Use your bad cop on the tech. McNab’s more sympathetic—same language,” she repeated.

“For the guard you want to sympathize and relate to his sense of loyalty and service. He won’t break for bad cop.

Jenkinson will know that, and play it so you can contrast. Loyalty and service are your strengths. Use them.”

She pulled into Central’s garage, just sat a minute. “And I was feeling pretty damn good.”

“It was still genius, Dallas.” Reo gave Eve a pat on the shoulder before she slid out of the back.

“That feed in court? Private shuttle waiting. Ebersole running, Harper trying to stop you, swiping at Peabody? It’s diamonds and gold.

And I’m betting Nadine’s commentary added more shine and sparkle. ”

“Blah, blah, bollocks, blah.”

She went straight to her office, and with coffee, wrote up her report—nice and pretty.

Peabody stepped in. “They’re bringing up Shaun Ye. Any advice?”

“Hit him out of the gate. Aiding and abetting a serial killer in an escape. There’s precedent for one who aids and abets receiving the same sentence as the accused. Three terms of life, no parole, off-planet. Put that thought in his head, he’ll give you everything you need, and it’ll save time.”

Eve pushed up. “Get every single detail. How she contacted him, what she paid, what she offered, what she told him. What they discussed in the penthouse. You’re tying her up more than him.”

“I’ve got that. I’ve got this.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Instead of hearing those details firsthand, Eve went up to meet Kyung.

Tall, smooth, and elegant, the media liaison extended a hand.

“Congratulations, Lieutenant, on a virtually surgical bust. Two, actually, considering last night. I understand you have important work yet, but a name like Phoebe Harper draws ratings and clicks. As does preventing the escape of an alleged serial killer—who happens to be her son.”

Blah, blah, bollocks, blah, Eve thought again.

“I want to keep this brief.”

“Also understood. May I say you look particularly well today?”

She gave him a narrow-eyed stare. “I’ve always thought you’re not an asshole, Kyung. Don’t make me change my mind.”

He just smiled at her, then gestured her out to the packed media room.

She got through it, but could only think she’d never get that twenty minutes back. Still, since he’d kept it to twenty despite more shouted, repetitive, and often—to her mind—stupid questions, Kyung retained his status of not an asshole.

She swung into Observation, noted Reo had joined the interview. Which meant they’d made a deal. She listened briefly as the tech and McNab spoke in their native tongue.

She went back to her office, and thinking of Roarke’s morning advice, took off her jacket. At her desk, she did deeper runs on Mikah Jessup, then Phoebe Harper.

When Peabody came in, she glowed.

“We got reams of details. She contacted him personally, told him his previous work for her company had been exemplary, and she needed just that again, and immediately. He claims she gave him a whole line about persecution, false imprisonment, planted evidence. He admitted he didn’t much care either way.

Because she transferred five million into an account for him—up front.

And he’d get another five after, along with a private shuttle to his choice of Palawan. ”

“Where?”

“Palawan. I had to look it up. It’s an archipelago in the Philippines.

The ten million and island life—she also promised him a villa—seemed like a mag idea.

Reo ended up giving him the six months. He has the receipts, Dallas.

He was to stay in the penthouse, with the monitor, until she contacted him to say they were in the air.

He listened to conversations in the penthouse, how they checked the plans, arranged for the shuttle, how Jessup was to drive back after they took off, park in the garage, leave the car.

“He saw Harper give Ebersole the new ID—including the passport. She already had a bag packed for him. She gave him a new ’link, promised to stay with him until he settled in Caracas, and quizzed him on his new background and name.