Page 88 of The 6:20 Man

“No, I didn’t.”

“Let me rephrase that. The evidence that I’ve seen is enough to convict your ass of murdering Sara.”

“And that evidence is?”

“Video of you entering the building, and your security card showing you accessing the building and going up to the fifty-second floor in time to kill her.”

“Both can be fudged, as you already conceded. And why haven’t you turned that over to the police? Before, you said I had you to thank for that. What does that mean?”

“I haven’t turned it over to the cops because we actually had a technical glitch.”

Devine sat back. “I’m confused, Mr. Cowl. See, at that point I would have made a perfect patsy for the murder. Leaves Cowl and Comely unaffected. I knew Sara. I was a disgruntled employee, former military with maybe some PTSD baggage, look at the shiny object here and not over there. Police are off the premises. So what gives?”

“What gives is that I do not have to explain myself or my reasoning to you. So, in exchange for what’s on your phone, the video of you and your entry log disappears. What do you say?”

“How can I possibly be sure you’ll really do that?”

“And how can I know you don’t have that stuff stashed in multiple places? At some point we have to trust each other.”

“If that’s the case, why exchange at all?”

“Mutual assured destruction. I was about to propose it myself. But there is no statute of limitations on murder. The video of me and Jenn shows up somewhere ten years from now, what I got is miraculously discovered and goes right to NYPD. And you go to Sing Sing or whatever place they have going at the time. And you never get out. Are we clear on all that?”

“Why do you care if anyone sees the pictures or video? You’re not married. You’re both consenting adults.”

“It’s the optics, Devine. I’m the head of a major investment house. I don’t need that crap plastered over the trash press. Clients wouldn’t like it. They’ll think I’m reckless. They’ll think I’m demeaning to women. And ladies run some of our biggest clients.” He added in a growl, “And I talked to you before about that. Use your damn brain.”

“Okay. Fair enough.”

Cowl eyed him. “So, who killed Sara?”

“No clue. Did you have the same relationship with Sara you do with Jennifer?”

“Just like the last time you asked that, I’m not going to answer. But I will say that what Jenn and I have is . . . special.”

Devine visualized them on the desk and tried hard not to laugh. “You mean like you have with Michelle Montgomery?”

“Michelle is short-term. She knows that. She’s great to look at, great in the sack, and that’s the extent of her repertoire. Jenn is different. Gorgeous, with the brains to match.”

Devine felt his temper rising with these callous statements about Montgomery. He decided to change the subject. “Sara had an abortion.”

He couldn’t tell from Cowl’s features whether he was aware of this or not.

“Well, I’m not the father,” said Cowl.

“How can you know for sure?”

“A certain act has to take place for that to happen. It did not take place between Sara and me.” He paused. “Not for lack of trying. She was like Jenn. Brainy, beautiful, but also aloof, played hard to get. She drove me nuts, but I could never land her.”

You really are a dick, thought Devine.

Cowl finished off his brandy and rose. “Okay, we done here?”

Devine stood. “Done.”

“Good, now get your ass back to work and make me some damn money, Devine.”