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“Excuse me?”
“That’s what this group is all about—taking out the bad guys who aren’t in prison. What if Morton had a list of his associates?”
“Oh shit,” Kate said. Everyone turned to her. “What if it’s viewers? Everyone who paid to watch Trask videos. Morton swore that the credit card information was kept offshore in a blind account and they had no names, nor did they retain credit card numbers. He gave us the bank accounts, and our white-collar unit seized the money, we had no reason to believe he held anything back.”
“You think he lied?”
“He was a fucking bastard, of course he could have lied. The best of our people went through the Trask Enterprises computer systems but found nothing useful. Yet it’s possible Adam Scott found a way to hide the data. He was brilliant. A psychopathic killer, but brilliant nonetheless.”
Noah nodded. “If Morton was trying to re-create Scott’s business enterprise, he might use a customer list as an enticement for the money people.”
“What would Mallory do with such a list?” Dillon asked. “There must be thousands of names. He can’t kill all those people.”
“No, but he can make their lives a living hell,” Kate said. “Identity theft, destroying their reputations.”
“Blackmail,” Noah said. “Running a vigilante group couldn’t be cheap. Maybe he’s looking for specific names.”
Hans agreed, but said, “Money is a secondary benefit. This is about retribution. If blackmail was part of the game, they wouldn’t keep the money. They’d funnel it to expand WCF or give it to other victims’ rights groups or the international fugitive apprehensive program—proactive justice.”
“We’re pulling all the financials of WCF, and comparing the accounts with their nonprofit financial reports,” Noah said. “I’ll pull in someone from White-Collar Crimes to take a look when we have everything.”
He motioned to Kate and Hans. “I’m ready,” he said. “Let’s go in.”
“I’m going to observe for now,” Hans said. “I think he’ll be more defensive if a psychologist is in the room. He’ll know we’re out here, but not seeing us will make it seem like you’re three agents—equals—talking about an unfortunate situation. I’ll come in if I feel it necessary.” He glanced at Stockton, who nodded his agreement.
Noah and Kate stepped into the interview room. Mallory sat straight in the chair, his legs shackled but his hands free. They were flat on the table in front of him. An untouched cup of water sat in front of him. He appeared almost serene, and he smiled when he saw Kate. “Marriage becomes you, Kate,” he said. “I’m glad to see you happy.”
“Does this face look happy, Mick?” Kate said.
“Actually it does. It’s in your eyes. That no matter who or what you’re facing, you have someone to go home to. I’m really pleased for you.”
Kate released an exasperated sigh. “This is Special Agent Noah Armstrong.”
Mick nodded at Noah, but said to Kate, “I never thought you’d be teaching at Quantico, though. You were always on the go, always moving. Sitting in a classroom must drive you up a wall.”
“We’re not here to catch up, Mick. So let’s cut to the chase. This is Noah’s case; it would really help if you answer our questions. Minimal fuss—you already know you’re going to prison. Cush situation, too, because it’ll be federal, and you’re a cop, so you’ll have a nice private room.”
Mick shook his head. “I would never survive in prison.”
“The guards will consider you a hero. They won’t let anyone touch you.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Noah opened his notepad and put an end to the small talk. “We’re executing a search warrant on your house, your apartment in D.C., WCF, and Frances Buckley as we sit here and chat. I have two agents following Biggler. Who do you think will crack first?”
Mallory said nothing.
Noah continued. “We have enough evidence to hold you. Simple possession of a firearm is enough.”
Mallory smiled. “Any attorney worth half their pay is going to get everything tossed. Because you have nothing except circumstantial evidence. I know it. You know it. Rogan stopping by my house is one thing—he’s a P.I. But whether or not Kate knew her husband and Rogan were paying me a visit doesn’t matter, because no judge is going to buy that a civilian consultant to the FBI didn’t know better.”
“We’ve put together a file of all the parolees who were arrested on a parole violation through the WCF program, and all those who were killed.”
“Fascinating.”
“Prenter is the one who screwed you up. You would have gotten away with Morton. Unless of course ballistics on the bullet matches one of your guns, but I think you’re too smart for that.”
Mallory smiled and shook his head, as if he had a secret.
