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“I, uh, need to confer with my senior partners about the best way forward.”
“Maybe you could send one of them over here—someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing!”
“Let’s go,” Gonzo said to her.
“You can’t make me go back down to that dungeon! The other women aremonsters!”
Gonzo took her by the arm and all but dragged her from the room. In the hallway, he turned her over to the Patrol officer standing guard outside. “Take her back downstairs.”
Tori screamed like a banshee the whole way to the stairs. She threatened lawsuits that would end their careers and yelled about police brutality.
“I take it our friend Tori has realized she’s totally screwed,” Freddie said when Gonzo returned to the pit.
“Yep, and her jackass of a lawyer has no idea what to do about it.” Gonzo rubbed at the back of his neck, which was aching. “What’ve you got on Randy?”
“I’ve got an address for him three blocks from the GW campus.”
“Have we heard anything from the lab on the pizza boxes yet?”
“There were prints all over them.”
“How much you want to bet they’re going to be our friend Randy’s?”
“I’d bet the entire farm.”
“Let’s go pay him a visit.”
Randy Bryant livedon the third floor of a townhouse on 22ndStreet Northwest in Foggy Bottom, near the State Department complex. Since Freddie had found a photo of him online, they recognized him as their guy when he answered the door. As described by their eye-witness, he was a big guy with buzzed dark hair and a goatee. He wore a Clash T-shirt, jeans and red Vans sneakers. “Can I help you?”
Gonzo and Freddie showed their badges. “Randy Bryant?”
“Yeah? What the hell? What do you want?”
“You’re under arrest for the murder of Rachel Fortier,” Freddie said. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law.”
The guy had barely registered that he was being arrested before Gonzo had him cuffed.
“What the fuck? I didn’t murder anyone!”
“That’s what they all say, isn’t it, Detective Cruz?”
“Sure is, Sarge. We hear it all the time.”
“What the hell is going on?” another guy asked from inside the apartment.
“They’re arresting me. Call my parents. Tell them to send a lawyer.”
The roommate moved toward the door. “What?”
“Don’t come any closer,” Gonzo said to the roommate. “Or we’ll arrest you, too.”
“Where are you taking him?”
“Metro PD headquarters.” Gonzo handed him a card. “Tell the parents to send the attorney there. He’s going to need representation.”
“What did he do?” the roommate asked.
Gonzo ignored him and followed Cruz and Bryant down the stairs.
