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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
A couple of hours later we were all back inside theFederal Building. We’d been seen to by the paramedics and given clean clothes to change into. My body was starting to feel the aches and pains of being knocked to the ground and crawling through glass. I could only imagine how Jack felt. I’d seen the bruises already starting to show themselves from his run in with Grimm.
Jane Elliotthad been the only casualty at the restaurant, the result of a well-timed military strike. Jesse Tydell had made the killing shot while Grimm had taken care of shooting the tear gas canisters and cornering Jack to eliminate him. They’d come close to eliminating one more name from their list. But they hadn’t succeeded, which meant they’d keep trying.
Jack and I were back in the same observation room we’d been in the last time we were here. Lauren and Carver stood next to us. As interrogation rooms went, I’d seen worse, but I was hoping after today not to see another one for a long while.
Agent Greer sat across from Grimm, but Grimm slouched back in his chair, ignoring Greer completely. His hands were handcuffed in front of him and his ankles were shackled. The shot to his leg had only been a flesh wound, so the paramedics had wrapped it up and sent him along with the FBI team that had arrived on scene. Grimm hadn’t said a word, and he didn’t look particularly worried to be there.
“You’re in a lot of trouble, Grimm. Maybe you can help us out with a few things and the FBI will consider lightening the charges.”
Grimm grunted but didn’t say anything else.
“You’re looking at two counts of first degree murder—the murders of two police officers and the attempted murder of another. Those are death penalty offenses. You’re going to want to talk to us.”
“I’m as good as dead anyway if I talk to you,” he said, shrugging. “I’d just as soon have the lethal injection and go out the easy way. I’ve heard it’s very humane.”
Grimm smiled, showing small even teeth that seemed abnormally white against his skin. The look in his eyes made me shudder, and I wrapped my arms around myself in comfort. His gaze was empty—completely soulless—and he stared at Greer as if he knew everything about him. Almost like a dare.
Greer acted as if he were bored. “You were pretty high up in the Vagos. In charge of your own territory. And you had a shot at being General but you blew it. You got caught and Lassiter was killed. That leaves Jesse Tydell.”
“He’s the new General. It’s his game now.”
“Like I said, Grimm, we’ll be willing to cut you a deal on some of the charges.”
“You gotta prove I killed someone first.” Grimm smiled again.
“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not that smart. We’ve got your knife and we’ll find blood on it that belongs to the victims. You’re going to want to come clean before those tests come back. Once they do, the deals aren’t going to be so good. Who paid you for the hits?”
Grimm played with the length of chain between his cuffed hands, clanking it against the arm of the chair. “Don’t know,” he shrugged. “Don’t really care. The money showed up in the accounts when it was supposed to.”
“How’d you get your orders?”
“It was all electronic. Like I said, money showed up in each of our accounts and we got emailed instructions. Tydell’s good with the electronics, but he could never trace where it came from. Seed money showed up as a sign of good faith, but we didn’t take the bait right off. You’ve got to be careful with stuff like that. It could’ve been the cops trying to smoke us out. So we asked for a sign of good faith in return.”
“What kind of good faith?”
“I want immunity.”
“It’s not going to happen, Grimm. You killed two cops and tried to kill another. All I can do is lessen the sentence.”
“I want a low security facility and visitation rights. A man like me would be king in prison.”
“An attorney from the Department of Justice is waiting to talk to you after I finish here. You can take it all up with her. Now give me some information or I’m going to put you in a cell and throw away the key.”
Grimm stared down Greer, but Greer didn’t flinch. He just waited him out. When several minutes went by, Greer picked up his file and stood to leave.
“South Carolina is an electric chair state,” Greer said as he opened the door to leave. “That’s where you killed Detective Price. Don’t think that’s going to be an easier way to die than whatever your new General can do to you.”
“Arnie Mays,” Grimm said, before Greer could leave the room.
Greer closed the door and sat back down across from Grimm, and Carver opened his laptop beside me and ran the name through his database.
“What about Arnie Mays?” Greer asked.
“He was the sign of good faith.”
“Got it,” Carver said into the earpiece Greer was wearing. “Arnie Mays was a cop working out of the South Bronx before he got caught for corruption, bribery, and illegals. IAB has a full file on him. Mays went off the grid and was suspected of being swept up by the Vagos as a soldier. His body washed up in San Francisco last December.”
