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Tabor had also been provided with a fake identification badge, but in his real name, and Angelina wondered about that now. Was it because he really was a TV cameraman? Or was there another reason?
She glanced down at her notes again. Neither Tabor nor the other man had been assigned to cover the christening—the bodies of the real cameramen had been found the next day by hikers in the mountains surrounding Drago. Ballistics tests proved they’d been killed with Tcholek’s gun, so he’d obviously been instrumental in effecting the substitution. The team investigating the assassination attempt had already surmised that, but it was good to have proof. She wished she knew why Sasha had betrayed them.
As if their thoughts had followed the same path, Captain Zale said abruptly, “I would give a year of my life to know why Tcholek did it.” Self-recrimination was evident in his voice. Sasha had once been part of his team, and Angelina knew the knowledge that he had harbored a traitor in the ranks was eating at her captain.
“So you do not believe—as the other investigators insist—that the motive was money?”
The captain shook his head. “His bank accounts show nothing out of the ordinary. Knowing that, and knowing him, I find it hard to believe.”
Angelina agreed with Captain Zale. She remembered Sasha from working with him on the queen’s security detail. He’d even asked her out a couple of times, and had taken her refusals in good part. He’d seemed no different from anyone else she’d worked with. Which meant money couldn’t have been the motivating factor. There had to be another reason.
She sighed softly. It wasn’t absolutely necessary to know why. She just needed to know who. Who might lead to why. And in order to know who, she had to find the key to breaking Boris Tabor. Somehow. What makes you think you will succeed where others have failed? she asked herself derisively, and for just a moment she felt defeated even before she started. Then she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Alec thought she could do this. She had to try.
Angelina put down the clipboard containing her notes, when all at once the idea she’d tried not to force suddenly coalesced in her brain. Her eyes widened in sudden excitement, and she nodded to herself as everything came together. She picked the clipboard up again, removed her notes, and on a blank piece of paper quickly jotted down some questions to use as a prop. Then she glanced at Captain Zale again.
“Tag team?” he asked.
She shook her head, trying not to let her enthusiasm for her idea overwhelm her common sense. “That has been tried several times,” she said, “with no success. I would like to try on my own. Look at him,” she told her captain. “He is tired, both physically and of being questioned by men who have tried to intimidate him. I have an approach I think might work.”
“It cannot hurt,” he agreed.
The door to the viewing room opened and two senior members of the king’s security detail entered the room—men Angelina recognized—and her heart sank. If Majors Kostya and Branko were here to question the prisoner, her chance would be lost.
But Captain Zale surprised her. “Go ahead, Lieutenant,” he ordered. “The prisoner is yours to question. The video camera will be running, of course.”
“Of course.” She opened the door and walked into the room before the majors could stop her.
“Good morning, Mr. Tabor,” she said pleasantly, holding out her hand. “I am Angelina Mateja.” She deliberately didn’t use her professional rank, having already figured he would react negatively to a woman in a position of power. Then she pretended to be surprised he was handcuffed. “Oh, I am so sorry. Let me undo those for you.” She quickly unlocked the handcuffs, pushed them to the other side of the table and held out her hand again.
He looked at her a little uncertainly, rubbing his wrists, but then the good manners he’d probably been raised with came to the fore, and he shook her hand. “Good morning.”
“May I sit down?” He waved a hand at the other three chairs, and Angelina seated herself in the chair closest to him rather than across the table. “Thank you.”
She smiled sweetly at him, winning a brief smile in return. But then he said truculently, “I have nothing further to say, Miss Mateja. I have said all I know.”
She kept her smile in place, tilting her head to one side. “Now, you see, Mr. Tabor, I find that difficult to believe.”
“I am not lying! I told those other investigators and I am telling you. Prince Nikolai was the mastermind of the plot. The king’s own cousin. And that is all I have to say!”
