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Cassie didn’t like the assumption in his voice, but she decided that if David was playing bad cop, she’d play good cop. She let the door shut behind her, then sat down in an upholstered chair next to David. It looked like Wickham had hired a fancy interior designer to decorate his office.
His desk was a dark cherry wood. The chair he chose for himself was even more lavish than the ones he provided his guests, and beautiful framed landscapes covered the walls. In the corner sat a small bar. He held up a decanter full of amber liquid, but both Cassie and David declined.
“I wasn’t expecting you today, David. I keep a tight schedule, and I prefer when visitors book an appointment through my secretary. You understand.”
“I’ve been trying, Preston. It seems there’s never an opening.”
“Like I said. I keep a tight schedule.”
“Unfortunately, death waits for no one. You’re aware of the details of our investigation?”
“I’ve skimmed your messages, yes.” Wickham returned to his seat, drink in hand. “I’m sure my secretary—”
“I’ve moved beyond the need to look into the victims.” David’s voice was calm and friendly. Cassie had never seen him so openly disingenuous with his hospitality. “Now I need information about one of your employees.”
That caught Wickham’s attention. “My employees? If you want information on them, I’ll need to see a warrant.”
“I’m speaking to you from one man of the law to another. We need a list of your employees, both former and current. We’ll start with the last thirty years, and then go from there.”
Wickham threw back his head, grabbed his stomach, and laughed. If it weren’t for the ice that had remained steadfast in his eyes, Cassie could’ve mistaken him for Santa Claus in a three-piece suit.
“There is no way on God’s green earth I’m letting you into our records for the past thirty years. You’re out of your mind, man. Truly out of your mind. My men have done nothing wrong. I won’t have you targeting good people and getting everyone riled up because you want to swing your dick around in front of a pretty lady.”
Cassie groaned theatrically. “Can we leave everyone’s dick out of this? ‘Cause I guarantee I’ll put you to shame? I have a job to do, Warden. Just like you. The snide remarks and unveiled sexism are hardly attractive. They make you a smaller man than you already are, and I don’t think you can afford to take that risk.” Cassie smiled to cover her anger. So much for being the good cop. “We believe the killer is a correctional officer who worked at this facility, likely in the early to mid-nineties. I assume he would have had close contact with prisoners suffering from addiction. He would’ve formed a bond with the ones murdered. It’s the most likely reason he sought out their killer.”
Wickham looked from David to Cassie and back again. “Who’s in charge, you or her?”
“You might be the densest man I know, Wickham. And in case it wasn’t clear, that is not a compliment.” David shook his head. “We’re trying to catch a killer here. Why are you so intent on wasting everyone’s time, most of all yours?”
“Because I don’t like you, Klein.” Wickham stood up, and from Cassie’s vantage point in the chair in front of Wickham, she felt every inch of his full height. “It’s as simple as that. You’re looking for a correctional officer who murdered a serial killer? I’d sooner shake his hand than turn him over to you.”
David stood, and though he didn’t match the Warden’s physique, David possessed an inherent self-assuredness. Wickham could posture all he wanted, but he’d never be the type of man David Klein was every single day of his life.
“I don’t much like you either, Wickham, but I’m not letting that get in the way of justice.”
“I’d like you to leave now, David. You’ve outworn your welcome.”
“That implies there was a welcome to wear out.” Cassie didn’t bother being quiet about it.
David cracked a smile. “She’s right. I’m not going to leave, Wickham. You’re going to help us, and you’re going to do it with a smile on your face. Do you want to know why?”
Wickham was silent.
“I bet you do.” David kicked his feet up on Wickham’s desk and linked his hands behind his head. “You’re going to help us, or I’m going to go back downtown and file a report on you. It’s going to include all the information I know. Do you want to know what sort of information I know, Wickham?”
Silence again. But this time, Wickham looked the tiniest bit uncomfortable.
“You’ve been embezzling money from the prison and putting it in your pocket. The routine searches of your prison cells have turned up fewer drugs in the past few years. You couldn’t afford your house, your car, or your mistress on the wages you’re meant to be earning. And I know you’re in real tight with a few of the boys in blue who would be real mad if they found out you confessed everything to me in exchange for a deal where you get to walk off into the sunset scot-free.”
“You have no proof.”
“If I didn’t have proof, I wouldn’t be sitting here as cool as a cucumber while you’ve got sweat drippin’ down the side of your face.”
Wickham pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at his forehead. “What do you want?”
“I’ve already been clear on what I want, as has my associate.” David dropped his feet back to the ground and stood up. Cassie mirrored him. “I want a list of every officer who was regularly in charge of any, some, or all of our twelve victims.”
Wickham stood frozen for a few seconds before turning on his heel and walking to his door. He opened it with such precision he looked like a robot. And when he spoke to his secretary, his voice was void of any emotion.
