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“It was tradition! It was one harmless night a year. We never hurt them. It was just sex. A kind of bond, you see? Something shared.”
“I guess Billy stopped thinking of it that way. Like Elsi, he couldn’t live with it anymore.”
“I . . . It bound us together. It brought us luck. All of us became successful. All of us made a mark on the world, came through that terrible time and made our marks. It was just one night a year.”
“You raped forty-nine women.”
“It wasn’t rape! It was just sex, it was tradition. It was—”
“Did you drug them?”
“It was just—”
“Did you fucking drug them?”
“Yes, yes, but only because it eased the way—for them. For them,” he said quickly.
“Did you restrain them?”
“Yes, but—just to add to the excitement—for them, too.”
“Did these women say stop? Say no?”
“Only at the start of the . . . It was a kind of ritual. And we selected them carefully. To be selected was a kind of honor.”
She could see the panic in his eyes at his own words. “Rape is an honor?”
“It was sex.”
“Keep telling yourself that. You drugged them, restrained them, you forced yourself on them when they begged you to stop. You might just find yourself in the same situation in prison, for the rest of your life. And we’ll see if you think of it as just sex.”
“You can’t put me in prison. Do you know who I am?”
“I know exactly who you are.”
“You work for me!” Incensed, he tried to shove up, and the restraints rattled. “For men like me.”
“I work for the City of New York, and I put people like you in cages. I fucking love my job, and tonight, right this minute, more than ever.”
“Those women are criminals. They’re murderers. They’re insane. They beat me. They burned me.”
“Oh, we’ll let the medicals fix you all up before you go in the cage. You and the last of your brothers—that’s Ethan MacNamee, who’s even now being extradited to New York—are going to have a long time to think about your traditions. You got enough, Reo?”
“More than. Mr. Easterday, you’ve confessed, on the record and after being duly Mirandized, to the charges of multiple rapes.”
“No! It was not rape. I was only explaining.” Tears spilled down his cheeks. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I’ve been hurt! I have nothing more to say.”
“That’s your right,” Reo said easily. “On the other hand, Mr. MacNamee’s had a lot to say. And if he continues, once he’s doing that talking to Lieutenant Dallas, he’ll get the deal I was about to offer you.”
“What deal?” Eve demanded, on cue, as if outraged.
“This is my job, Lieutenant. And part of my job is to save the city the time and expense of a long, ugly trial. But since Mr. Easterday has invoked his right to remain silent . . .”
“I want to know the terms.”
Reo looked back at him, nodded. “All right. If you’ll excuse us, Lieutenant, Detective.”
“This is bullshit.” But Eve stormed out, then slowed when she got out the door.
