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She told him, working hard to be matter-of-fact.
"So it wasn’t Maeve who bruised and scratched your face."
"I don’t know what it was, but I know this is going to be wrapped, and wrapped tight tonight. Buchanan’s being picked up now. We’ll see if he was in this, or if Maeve worked alone. But I’m damn sure she’s the one who fired the gun. She’s the one who lured Hopkins there. He had a weakness for young women. He’d never have felt threatened by her. Walked right in, alone, unarmed."
"If she sticks with this story about being Bobbie Bray, she could end up in a psychiatric facility instead of prison."
"A cage is a cage - the shape of it isn’t my call."
* * *
At Central, Eve let Maeve stew a little while as she waited for Mira to be brought in and take a post in observation. So she took Buchanan first.
He was shaking when she went into interview room B, his face pale, his eyes glossy with distress.
"They said - they said you arrested my daughter. I don’t understand. She’ll need a lawyer. I want to get her a lawyer."
"She’s an adult, Mr. Buchanan. She’ll request her own representation if she wants it."
"She won’t be thinking straight. She’ll be upset."
"Hasn’t been thinking straight for a while, has she?"
"She’s… she’s delicate."
"Here." Peabody set a cup of water on the table for him. "Have a drink. Then you can help us help your daughter."
"She needs help," Eve added. "Do you know she claims to be Bobbie Bray?"
"Oh God. Oh God." He put his face in his hands. "It’s my fault. It’s all my fault."
"You are John Massey, grandson of Bobbie Bray and Radcliff Hopkins?"
"I got away from all that. I had to get away from it. It destroyed my mother. There was nothing I could do."
"So during the Urbans, you saw your chance. Planted your ID after an explosion. Mostly body parts. All that confusion. You walked away."
"I couldn’t take all the killing. I couldn’t go back home. I wanted peace. I just wanted some peace. I built a good life. Got married, had a child. When my wife died, I devoted myself to Maeve. She was the sweetest thing."
"Then you told her where she’d come from, who she’d come from."
He shook his head. "No. She told me. I don’t know how she came to suspect, but she tracked down Rad Hopkins. She said it was business, and I wanted to believe her. But I was afraid it was more. Then one day she told me she’d been to Number Twelve, and she understood. She was going to take care of everything, but I never thought she meant… Is this ruining her life now, too? Is this ruining her life?"
"You knew she went back out the night Hopkins was killed," Eve said. "You knew what she’d done. She’d have told you. You covered for her. That makes you an accessory."
"No." Desperation was bright in his eyes as they darted around the room. "She was home all night. This
is all a terrible mistake. She’s upset and she’s confused. That’s all."
They let him sit, stepped out into the hall. "Impressions, Peabody?"
"I don’t think he had an active part in the murder. But he knew - maybe put his head in the sand about it, but he knew. We can get him on accessory after the fact. He’ll break once she has."
"Agreed. So let’s go break her."
Maeve sat quietly. Her hair was smoothed again, her face was placid. "Lieutenant, Detective."
"Record on." Eve read the data into the recorder, recited the revised Miranda. "Do you understand your rights and obligations, Ms. Buchanan?"
