In Death 31 - Indulgence in Death

lip. “Basically what we’re doing here is just a formality, and more about my personal satisfaction.” She spread her hands. “I’ve got to squeeze in some fun now and again, right?”
    “You . . . you’re making all this up.”
    “Got you cold, Mitch. You and Karolea Prinz stole from your own company, then profited on the weaknesses, needs, and sickness of others by distributing what you stole.”
    She leaned on the table, inching a little closer to his sweaty face. “You split the profits and set up a couple of offshore accounts under the name Sykpri Development.” She watched his face go paler, paler. “The tax guys are going to have their fun with you on that deal later. But for now, it’s all mine. Prinz is confirming the details right now with my partner in another interview room.”
    “I—I don’t have anything to say. I want to talk to Karolea.”
    “You don’t have to talk to me, but you won’t be talking to her either. She’s busy saving her own ass at the moment. Now we can move on because it strikes me that anybody who’d steal and sell drugs, who’d have the skill to set up an account that isn’t flagged by the usual regulations, wouldn’t have any problem screwing with his boss’s ID and credit, using that to cover his sorry ass when he killed.”
    “I’m not a killer!” This time his voice squeaked, just a little ratlike sound that warmed Eve’s heart. “Good God, I never killed anyone.”
    “Well, let’s see. You’re a thief, a liar, an illegals pusher, as well as being a complete dick.” She sat as if weighing the notion. “Yeah, it’s just a short step to murder. Maybe it went like this: You used Jamal’s company and services to reach a higher-income client base, then he wants a bigger cut. Or maybe has a change of heart. Can’t have that, so you have to take him out, don’t you? And why not frame your own boss—get a twofer. Maybe a nice promotion. Then—”
    “No!” He leaped out of the chair, then dropped straight down again as if his legs couldn’t hold him. “I didn’t even know that man, that Jamal person. I’m not a murderer!”
    “Just a thief, liar, illegals pusher, and complete dick?” She shrugged. “Convince me, because I’ve got things to do, Mitch, and this one’s looking all wrapped up with a bow on it.”
    “You’re crazy.” His eyes bulged and wheeled. “It’s crazy.”
    “That’s not convincing.”
    “Listen . . .” He tugged at the knot of his tie, wet his lips. “Okay, fine, we skimmed some inventory.”
    “Inventory, as in drugs. As a rep for Dudley, Karolea could access them.”
    “Yes. Yes. All we had to do was doctor the logs, tweak the invoices. It’s not a big deal. The company builds that kind of loss into the budget. We just wanted the money. I’m entitled to some perks considering the hours I put in. Do you know how much my education cost? And I’m stuck running errands for Sweet? We didn’t hurt anyone. We . . . we provide a service. We sell at a discount.”
    “You steal drugs from Dudley—”
    “Karolea acquires the merchandise,” he said quickly. “She handles that area. I’m in sales.”
    “I see. So she acquires the drugs, and you sell them.”
    “Yes. We have regular customers. It’s not as if we’re peddling Zeus on street corners to children. These are safe medications. We’re helping people.”
    “Like the guy who’s addicted to painkillers and buys from you instead of going to the medicals for rehab or assistance. Or the one who ODs on tranqs, or the ones who mix the chemicals to get high. Or the ones, you fuckhead, who resell to kids on street corners.”
    “We’re not responsible for—”
    “Cut the crap. You’ve confessed, on the record. I don’t need your sob stories and justifications.”
    “You can’t seriously believe I killed that driver.”
    “Oh, hell no. I just said that so you’d spill your guts on the rest. Good job.” She checked the time. “Now we can both get out of here. Me to work, you to your cell.”
    “But . . . I want a lawyer.”
    “No problem. They’ll let you contact one on your way to booking. Thank you for your cooperation. Interview end.”
    She rose, opened the door, and hailed the waiting uniforms. “Walk him through, let him contact his lawyer.”
    She walked into Observation and watched Peabody wrap up a weeping Karolea Prinz.
    “She cried a lot,” Peabody said when they headed down to the garage. “I mean a lot. She says, or