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‘And how’s this my problem?’
Ella leaned forward, her eyes locked on Russo. ‘Because Nash was your colleague, part of your criminal gang. You tell me, Russo, do the Diamonds make a habit of killing their own members?’
Russo shrugged nonchalantly, but Ella could see the tension in his jaw. ‘The Diamonds have their own way of doing things.’
‘And that involves clearing up loose ends, ensuring members don’t talk?’
The prisoner inspected his nails, clearly mulling his response over. Ella took note of Russo’s microsignals; steady hands, stable legs, the makings of a grin forming at the edges of his lips. All her training told her that Russo wasn’t trying to hide anything.
‘Do you know why we’re called the Diamonds, agent?’
Ella glanced at the clock. She didn’t have time for a history lesson. ‘Because you have diamond tattoos.’
Russo let out a low chuckle, his grin now fully formed. ‘No. You’ve fallen prey to gossip, again. We're called the Diamonds because of what diamonds represent – strength, loyalty, endurance. And yes, there's a symbol of our commitment,’ he opened his mouth slightly, gesturing to the back of his teeth where a small diamond implant glittered. ‘Every member has one, a sign of our unbreakable bond.’
Ella leaned closer, studying the diamond tooth. It was new information, but it didn’t lead her anywhere.
‘But,’ Russo continued, ‘it’s more than a tooth. It’s actually hollow, and there’s a cyanide capsule inside.’ The prisoner reached into his mouth, dislodged the rare gem and presented it for Ella’s inspection, saliva drops and all.
Ella fit the pieces together. In the two days since Logan Nash had died, she hadn’t stopped to consider that maybe his death was intentional – by his own hand.
'And here's me thinking the cyanide tooth was a wartime fairytale.'
‘It was, but we made it real.’
‘So, you’re saying Diamonds commit suicide if they’re caught?’
‘Death before dishonor,’ Russo said. ‘If Nash is gone, chances are he offed himself. The man was a phantom, the smartest killer in the game. No one kills Logan Nash except Logan Nash.’
Ella doubted that. ‘But he was shot right between the eyes. People don’t kill themselves like that. And if he had a cyanide capsule in his tooth, why would he shoot himself?’
Russo grinned again. ‘Cyanide hurts, or so I’ve heard. A bullet to the brain? Not so much.’
Ella considered the information – and the possibility that Russo was lying to protect one of his colleagues. She’d seen a hundred execution scenes in her time, and Nash’s scene was a carbon copy. Nash could have staged his suicide to look like a murder – one last twist for Ella to agonize over – but every fiber of her being told her that Nash was a murder victim.
‘I’m not sure I believe you,’ Ella said.
Russo leaned back, sweeping one hand through his short hair. ‘I don’t care. Why should I help you anyway? You’re the bitch that put me here.’
Ella maintained her composure. She’d been called worse. She leaned in, her voice low and steady. ‘Because I have something you want. Fifteen years is a long time, and cooperation can get you out of here in half that. I'm sure there are things on the outside you'd rather not miss.’
Russo's defiant facade faltered for a moment, a flicker of interest rousing up. Ella knew she’d hit a nerve. ‘What kind of cooperation are we talking about?’
'Your sentence rests on my testimony. You give me the whole truth, and I'll make sure you get off light. Tell me a load and crap and, well…’ Ella glanced over at the one-way mirror, leaned in and said, ‘get used to these walls.’
Russo seemed to weigh his options, the internal struggle evident. Finally, he nodded. ‘This conversation isn’t being recorded, is it?’
‘Only in my head,’ Ella said.
‘Good. If I help you, I want you to help me.’
Ella held his stare. ‘Go on.’
‘I don’t care about my sentence. I’m in here for the long haul, and when the time is right, I’ll meet the man upstairs.’ Russo tapped his diamond tooth through his cheek. ‘But I have a wife and daughter out there. I have some money stashed away, money I kept hidden from the Diamonds. I want you to get it, give it to them, and tell them I’m sorry.’
Blood money, Ella thought. Her humanity took center stage, overriding professionalism and personal vendettas. ‘You kept your family in the dark?’
Russo nodded. ‘They never knew who I really was.’
