First, a HUGE thank you to TeddyMo for noticing that my thoughts had wandered back to the good old days and I had slipped Deakins in for Ross in the last chapter. It's all fixed now, but she deserves the credit. Second, a nod to Star Jelly, one of our M/C shippers, who asked me not to let Barek disappear from the story. Hmmm, let's see what I can do …
Chapter 26: Interrogation
Alex gave the uniformed cop at the door of interrogation a nod, and as he turned the knob to open it, she started in on Bobby. "… so next time you decide to stay out through last call, just be sure you can answer the bell in the morning."
"Hey, I'm fine. You're the one being the by-the-book hardass."
Alex paused halfway through the door and threw a glare over her shoulder at him. Lowering her voice, but not enough that she couldn't be heard inside, she retorted, "Just doing my job. You should try it sometime."
Taking a deep breath, she turned back and stepped into the room. She pasted on a bright smile and held out her hand to the man who had risen from the chair nearest the door. He was at least Bobby's height but quite thin, with neatly trimmed gray hair, and was wearing an elegantly tailored navy blue suit, a crisp white shirt with thin blue pinstripes and a solid red tie held in place by a diamond tie clip.
"I'm Alexandra Eames, the senior detective," she said, with just a hint of a tremor in her voice.
"Gregory Hamilton, Mr. Saunders' attorney," he said with a confident smile and a firm handshake.
Managing a sharper tone, she added, "And this is my partner, Detective Robert Goren," as she turned back to her right, indicating with a wave where she seemed to think Bobby was standing. But she was presenting empty space; he had bolted past her into the room, ignoring the niceties. He frowned at Saunders, who was slumped in the far chair next to Hamilton's. Their prey was in a slightly rumpled pair of khaki pants and a creamy orange polo shirt.
"Popsicle," Bobby said under his breath after looking Saunders up and down. He giggled to himself, then dropped his binder on the table and shoved his hands in his pockets. Annoyance creased Saunders' face.
Alex pulled out the chair directly across from Hamilton, and she and the lawyer sat down simultaneously. Bobby found a section of wall just past the two-way mirror to lean against and began contemplating the ceiling.
"Well, I'm sure you've read the affidavit Detective Goren put together, Mr. Hamilton, so you probably have a good idea of some of the evidence against your client. But we'd like to hear his side of the story," Alex said, keeping her tone professional but pleasant.
"Waste of time …" Bobby muttered from his corner, reaching up to loosen his tie and top button and sighing heavily.
Alex glared at him. Hamilton flashed an amused smile, intrigued by the discord between his two adversaries. "Perhaps your partner has someplace he'd rather be?"
"How about in court, where we're gonna put this cheating, murdering sonofabitch away for life?" Bobby snapped, locking eyes with Saunders.
"Detective … Goren, is it?" Hamilton said mildly. "There are perfectly good explanations for everything, and I am sure this will be worked out long before Mr. Saunders sets foot in a trial court."
"Hmpf," Bobby snorted.
Carver, Ross and Logan, watching intently from behind the glass, were startled as the door to the observation room opened and Carolyn Barek strolled in.
"Hi, guys. Mind if I join the party?"
Consternation crossed Ross' face as he looked at Barek and then Logan. "What's the matter – you two think you need some pointers?"
Logan frowned. "Hey, just because the Goren Show is entertaining doesn't mean it's better than a Logan-Barek interrogation."
"And anyway, I think what we have here is the Goren & Eames Show," Carolyn said with a mischievous smile.
"You know something about their plans?" Ross asked suspiciously.
Carolyn just shrugged and turned to face the glass. "Let's watch. I don't want to miss anything."
Just then Alex stood, slipped off her sweater and draped it over the back of her chair, revealing a snug, pale blue tank top and enough bare skin to get Saunders' attention. He straightened in his chair as she sat down again.
"Kind of warm in here," Alex noted. "They never seem to be able to get the thermostat right. Feel free to take your jacket off if you'd like, Mr. Hamilton."
"Oh, I'm fine. Thank you, Detective."
"Nobody else is having hot flashes," Bobby muttered.
Alex frowned at him and started to say something, but then she abruptly turned her attention back to the lawyer. "Please don't mind my partner. He's better at staying out late than getting up early. If it were midnight he might be a little more polite."
"I'll save 'polite' for more pleasant company. I'm not wasting it on this mutt and his mouthpiece," Bobby retorted. "They aren't going to tell us anything anyway."
Alex shrugged her shoulders and gave a slight shake of her head. Saunders smiled a little and let his eyes wander up her arm to her collarbone. "So, where were we?" she asked, turning to Saunders and drawing his eyes back to hers. "Oh, yes. I was hoping you could explain what you did on the night Mrs. Kensington Leonard was murdered."
"That's simple. I …"
"Really, Mr. Saunders, I think it best if you have nothing to say about specifics at this time," Hamilton told him.
"Hey, it's no big deal. I don't mind talking to such a lovely detective," Saunders said, giving Alex his best smile. "As long as the goon stays in the corner."
"Goon?" Bobby said with a smirk and a laugh. "You think you can piss me off, maybe get me to rough you up, mess up the case? No way, asshole."
"Goren! If you can't be civil, I'll do this on my own."
Bobby scowled. "Hey, I woulda let you if I could. I already wrapped this thing up for you with a bow. But the captain said I have to be here, so I'm here. Just hurry up and finish. I got stuff to do."
Alex sighed heavily. "Mr. Saunders, if there's a good explanation, I would love to hear it."
"I was at a business conference."
"Not that night. We know you took a side trip to Mohawk Mountain."
"Oh, yes. That was the day I went skiing," he smiled at her. "Do you ski?"
"I never have," she said, a bit wistfully.
"I love being on the slopes. The white powder, the smooth curves and drops as you glide along. It's like flying without a plane," he said with an inviting smile. "I go every chance I get. You should try it sometime. And don't forget to enjoy the fireplace in the evening, preferably after a romantic dinner."
"Hmmm," she said, a dreamy look flitting over her features. Snapping back to the present, she looked down at the papers in front of her. "You must have left early and gotten back late to have very much time on the slopes."
"I did. I was up before dawn, drove there in my Tahoe, skied all day, had a late dinner and drove back to the conference. Got in about 2, I think."
"Dinner?" she said, a note of hope sneaking into her voice. "Did you pay by credit card?"
"No, unfortunately. Cash. I think I only used my credit card for a day pass on the ski lift."
Alex's shoulders sagged. "Oh."
"Sorry, Detective. I didn't know I was going to need an alibi. Isn't the ski lift pass enough?"
"Well, it doesn't get stamped when it is used, so it doesn't prove you were actually on the slopes," she replied, shaking her head. "So you went straight to Mohawk and back to the conference – no side trips?"
"That's right."
"Well, unfortunately, that doesn't square with my partner's math."
"What do you mean?" the lawyer asked, his brow furrowing.
"Well, he's got it all figured out how you could have driven here from Mohawk, killed Mrs. Kensington Leonard and gotten back to the conference, and he says the mileage on the Tahoe fits that scenario."
"How does he know the mileage?" Hamilton asked suspiciously.
"The ever-meticulous Richard," Bobby said with a triumphant smile. "He had the Tahoe serviced before the trip. The shop recorded the mileage. So did Richard, in a little book he keeps in the vehicle. He writes down everything in there, date and mileage, including when he washes it, which he was doing the first time we came out to your home. I happened to notice the mileage at the time."
"You had no business snooping in my client's vehicle," Hamilton said indignantly. "You didn't have a search warrant at that point."
"Well, I just happened to have one today, and I just happened to find that book, so it doesn't matter what I knew when and how, because it's all in the damn book," Bobby said, slamming his hand on the table. "And now, thanks to my search, we have that book. In addition to the shop's records. And it all adds up to a murderous trip to New York in the midst of your little business conference."
Bobby was gloating as he finished, and Saunders was nervously throwing sideways glances at his lawyer.
Hamilton frowned. "The miles could have been run up elsewhere."
"It's opportunity. And I know the motive too," Bobby said, leaning down to force Saunders to look at him.
"Detective, we know you know one of his business deals with Mrs. Kensington Leonard had fallen through," Hamilton said wearily. "As you said, I read the affidavit. That's not a good enough reason to kill the young lady. Your motive and your opportunity are weak."
"It's more than that," Bobby said, his voice close to a snarl. "You'd been banging little miss snooty pants for months to help your business, and it didn't work, and you were pissed at her. And maybe you were getting tired of her by then anyway, since you are all over anything in a skirt. You were ready to move on to some fresh meat. So you went down there, all full of rage, and you brained her with a 20-pound weight."
"That's ridiculous!"
Bobby laughed. "Wait'll we tell sweet little Stacy about what you were up to. When she kicks you out, will you have enough money of your own to pay for a fancy lawyer like this one?"
"Goren!" Alex said angrily. "There's no need for that. Especially before we've got all our ducks in a row. If there are extenuating circumstances or it was an accident, we shouldn't be blurting out things that could ruin his marriage."
"He did that on his own, Eames," Bobby hissed at her.
"Look, Goren, if you don't want to give Mr. Saunders a break, can't you at least have a little consideration for Stacy's feelings?" Alex pleaded.
"Too damn soft," Bobby said, shaking his head. "If you want to defend this guy, go to law school."
"I'm just trying to keep an open mind here," Alex replied, her face reddening. "That doesn't make me soft."
"Yeah, sure," Bobby said, rolling his eyes. Turning his back on the trio at the table, he looked at the mirror, holding the glance for an extra beat.
Behind the glass, Carolyn smiled. "That's my cue," she said, heading for the door.
"Huh?" Mike said, as the three men looked surprised and confused.
As the door closed behind her, Ross looked at Mike. "You didn't know about this?"
"No. I have no idea what they're doing."
A knock on the door of interrogation startled Alex just as she was opening her mouth to frame another question. All four occupants turned as Carolyn timidly stuck her head in the room. "Sorry to interrupt," she said with a sweet smile for Bobby. "I need Bobby, uh, Detective Goren, for a few minutes. It's very important."
"Sure you do, baby," Bobby replied with a wink and a confident grin. "So, Eames, I'm sure you can get along without me for a little while."
"Go ahead," Alex said with a frustrated sigh. "You've already got your mind made up anyway."
Bobby was at the door in three big strides, and then he disappeared. Alex glared after him. "Thinks he's God's gift to women," she muttered.
"Your partner is a bit arrogant, Detective," Hamilton observed.
"You noticed," she said with a bitter smile.
"He doesn't treat you very well," Saunders interjected. "You deserve more respect."
"Thanks," Alex said, blushing again. "He's the junior partner, but he thinks he knows everything and does all the work. Thinks he has this case all figured out. Some guys …" she trailed off.
"Hey, not all of us are like that," Saunders said, smiling encouragingly at her.
"Look, I'm no soft touch," Alex said pulling back a little but meeting his eyes with an earnest look. "I don't like it that you were involved with another woman. But I know sometimes these things are complicated, and just because a guy strays, it doesn't mean he's a murderer."
"Of course, I'm not a murderer," Saunders insisted.
"Mr. Saunders, be clear about this: I'm convinced you were there and somehow caused her death. My partner thinks he has everything he needs to convince a jury that you committed premeditated murder. I think it could be more complicated than that. If there was an argument and something happened in the heat of the moment, you could be facing a lesser charge … and maybe with your wife at your side. It looks to me, from the way you treat her, that there's still hope for your marriage."
Saunders put on his best contrite face. "I really wouldn't want Stacy to hear that stuff your partner was spouting."
"With some help from our captain and the D.A., I think we could manage to keep him muzzled," Alex assured him.
Behind the glass, Ross shook his head. "Now, that would be a real magic trick."
Carver, Mike and Carolyn laughed as Bobby feigned indignation. "I'm not that bad, am I, Captain?"
"No comment," Ross said with just a hint of a smile.
Alex leaned forward again, palms up in a gesture of openness. "I don't think there's any getting around that mileage thing. And there's something else." Lowering her voice almost to a conspiratorial level, she continued, "You know from the affidavit that Brandon Weaver told us he spilled the beans about the business deal. What's not in there is that he told us you were very angry. He told us you said you'd take it up with her, and you sounded furious."
"He was exaggerating," Saunders blurted. "I just meant I wanted to talk to her about it. I thought I could change her mind."
"My partner thinks you decided to kill her and concocted a plan to cover your tracks. He's a black and white kind of guy, doesn't understand the complexities of relationships."
"So you have a different theory, Detective?" the lawyer asked encouragingly.
"All the evidence indicates Mr. Saunders did come to New York. But I think it was more spur-of-the-moment," she replied.
Shifting slightly in her seat, she addressed Saunders. "You started on your skiing side trip with the best of intentions. But losing the business deal was weighing on your mind. Sometime during the day, you decided to try to talk her out of buying from Weaver. You drove down here, confronted her about her and her partners' plans. She wouldn't see it your way. There was some pushing and shoving; she was fit enough and physical enough to take care of herself. Maybe she grabbed something and you grabbed that weight. Or maybe she just fell and hit her head. You panicked and ran."
Hamilton could barely suppress his glee. He knew a lot of evidence pointed to his client. But the two detectives' antagonism had split them on their theories, and that would be devastating in court. If he could push them toward a voluntary manslaughter charge – and if Eames had the D.A.'s ear and Goren was as infuriating to everyone as he seemed, that could be likely – then it was just one more step to convince the jury it was an accidental death. This female detective, alienated from her partner and perhaps slightly attracted to Saunders, was the key to getting his client off with much less than a sentence for murder – and maybe no sentence at all. Hamilton licked his lips in anticipation.
Shifting toward his client, the lawyer nodded almost imperceptibly. Saunders' shoulders drooped slightly, but then he straightened a little and shrugged. "The weight was there on the floor. She stumbled and fell on it. I didn't mean for her to get hurt. I just wanted to repair the business deal."
Bobby grinned from ear to ear. "Terrific, isn't she?" he said to no one in particular. Turning away from the glass, he grabbed a box from the side table and left the room. Seconds later, he was back in interrogation, still smiling. He set the box on the table with a loud thump and looked at his partner. "So, how's it going?"
Alex returned his smile. "Couldn't be better, Bobby. Saunders here just told me the weight was sitting on the floor and she fell on it."
"Yeah, I heard."
They both looked at Saunders, Alex with a smirk and Bobby like a hungry wolf preparing to pounce. Hamilton stared at them. He felt a flush creeping up his neck and perspiration forming on his brow and under his arms. The vibe between the detectives had definitely changed. He knew it was time for damage control – maybe past time. "Clearly, it was an accident."
Bobby laughed. "The weight wasn't on the floor, Mr. Hamilton. She wasn't killed by a fall. The M.E.'s report is clear that a blow was struck. And your client just admitted being there."
"Voluntary manslaughter at the very most. You'll never convince a jury otherwise," Hamilton replied, fighting to keep his tone even. He sensed his control of the situation slipping away.
Saunders, confused, looked first at his lawyer and then at Bobby, leaning in toward him. "Oh, I think we will," Bobby said confidently. "That weight didn't just happen to be there. It belonged to you, Jake."
He reached into the box and pulled out the weight, sealed in a heavy plastic evidence bag, but with dried blood clearly visible. "It was newer than the other weights. Brand new, in fact. Not part of their equipment."
Saunders glanced down briefly and too quickly replied, "You're wrong. It's not mine. My company didn't make that."
"You're right," Alex chimed in. "It's Weaver's brand. And we've got surveillance tapes from the store where you bought it that night. And we found its mate in the exercise room at your home this morning." She lifted the second weight of the pair, also encased in plastic, from the box and set it next to the murder weapon. "Look at that, Bobby – a perfect match," she said with glee.
"I guess you shouldn't have tried to hide it in plain sight," Bobby scolded Saunders. "It really didn't fit in with the others. After all, they're your brand."
Saunders ground his teeth and glared, first at Bobby, then at Alex. His eyes lingered on her. "I thought you understood! I thought you were going to give me a break."
"Oh, I gave you a break, all right. I made sure Stacy was unarmed when I took her next door. She's been watching this whole time, right behind that glass," Alex said, with a sideways nod of her head. "She's going to cut you loose after this, Jake. Your rich playboy days are over. And you'll never see the ski slopes again, except maybe on a prison TV."
"YOU BITCH!" Saunders, enraged, bolted up from his chair. Bobby was ready, though, engulfing him in a bear hug and slamming him back down into the chair. "You're just like she was! She flirted and sweet talked and got me in her bed, but when it came time to pay up with the deal I had planned, she betrayed me," Saunders ranted, struggling vainly in Bobby's firm grasp. The lawyer had scooted his chair back toward the corner, safe from his enraged client.
"She got what she deserved!" Saunders shouted. "Lying, betraying bitch! Just like you. Damn right, I killed her. And I'd do it again!"
Two uniformed officers burst through the door and quickly flanked Saunders. They helped Bobby force his arms behind him, and soon his wrists were handcuffed. He was still struggling, but the fight was starting to drain out of him as he realized there was nothing he could do.
"My, what a temper you have," Bobby said, shaking his head solemnly at their captured prey. "All that rage and a full confession, on our tape for the jury to see. I think they'll be convinced."
Saunders was hustled away, his defeated lawyer following quietly. Bobby reloaded the evidence box, Alex grabbed her sweater, and they headed out of the room.
Carver, Ross, Logan and Barek were waiting in the hall.
"That was masterful," Ross said, shaking his head.
"Eames did the real work," Bobby said with a huge grin. "Her 'betrayal' was exactly what we needed to spark his fury and the confession."
"Indeed," Carver mused, shaking his head in awe. "I guess I should know by now never to assume a confession is impossible when you two are doing the interrogation. You're quite a team, Detectives."