Volatile Bonds (Prospero's War #4)

I nodded. “Yeah,” I lied. Visiting my uncle always felt like entering psychological warfare.

“Good.” He gently eased away and rose, holding out a hand to help me up. “Because it’s showtime.”



* * *



Half an hour later, we cleared the security gauntlet and were shown to the interview room. Since Abe had a restraining order against me, I was required to stay a certain number of feet away from him. This meant Morales would be taking lead on the conversation, and I’d be stuck behind a two-way mirror, watching. There was an intercom in the room I was in, so I could ask questions, but it put me at a disadvantage, which was exactly what my uncle wanted.

Even though I hated the necessity of being stuck behind glass, I was kind of relieved Morales had to take the lead on this. Facing down Uncle Able always took every one of my wits. Abraxas Prospero hadn’t stayed on top of the dirty-magic food chain in Babylon as long as he had by being an idiot.

The interview room door opened, and two guards led in the prisoner. He wore an orange jumpsuit and a pair of white canvas sneakers with manacles clamped around his ankles. His hands were cuffed too, and attached to a length of chain looped around his waist. His white hair had thinned out a little more since the last time I’d seen him, and his bald spot had grown a little larger. But his eyes were still as bright and dangerously cunning as they’d ever been.

“Special Agent Morales,” he said, “this is a pleasant surprise.”

“I wish I could say the same, Abe.”

My uncle didn’t react to the barb. “And shall I assume that my prodigal niece is ensconced behind the mirror.” He faced the mirror, almost exactly where I was standing. “Hello, Katie Girl. It’s a shame you can’t join us.” The words dripped with cheerful scorn.

I pressed the intercom button. “Remove the restraining order and I can.”

“And risk you losing your temper again and attacking me?” He laughed. “We’re all safer this way.”

Morales held out a hand. “Please sit.”

“Actually, we have another party joining us.”

Morales glanced at the mirror. I shrugged even though he couldn’t see me. “Who is it?” I asked over the intercom.

“An old friend,” he said. “But while we wait, why don’t you tell me how Danny’s doing? He’s what—a sophomore now?”

“Yeah, we’re not having that conversation.”

As if I hadn’t spoken, he continued, “I do hope you’re seeing to his magical education.”

It was one thing for Baba or Pen to butt in and tell me what to do about Danny’s schooling. But Uncle Abe was a whole other level of nope.

So, I decided to fuck with him. “Actually, Danny’s decided to live life as a Mundane. He’s even been training himself to write with his right hand.”

A thunderstorm crossed Abe’s face. “Over my dead body. That boy has too much inherent talent to squander on a Mundane existence.”

“He said he couldn’t stomach doing magic because it reminds him too much of our family’s shameful past.”

Morales’s grin was all teeth as leaned back in his chair, enjoying the sparring match.

“That’s your brainwashing talking, Katherine,” Abe said through clenched teeth.

“He wants to be an accountant,” I added, twisting the knife a little deeper.

“You—” Whatever he’d been about to yell cut off when the door opened again.

The white man who entered wore wire-rimmed glasses, a slick navy suit, and brown hair so thick it had to be plugs. His pink tie was decorated with embroidered green dollar signs. “You didn’t say anything, did you?” he said to Uncle Abe.

“Let me guess,” Morales said in an ironic tone, “you’re the lawyer.”

“Dicky Goldman,” I growled.

Luckily, I’d already released the intercom button. I glared through the mirror as Abe did the introductions in the other room. I’d never officially met Dicky Goldman, but I’d seen him at work. He’d represented my uncle during his trial, which had been televised. The guy was as slick as shit through a goose and twice as dirty.

“She in there?” Dicky said to Morales once the introductions were done.

“If you mean Detective Prospero, yes.”

The lawyer nodded dismissively. “My client wishes you both to know that moving forward, all interviews should be arranged through me. Further, you will no longer be speaking to my client without my presence, so you can’t frame him for any additional crimes.”

“He’s already in prison for the rest of his life, Dicky,” I said into the intercom.

He smiled tightly. “We’ll see.”

Both the meaning of his words and the utter confidence with which they were spoken sent a chill through me. I knew he wouldn’t answer if I asked what the hell that meant, so I took another tactic. “Uncle Abe didn’t know we were coming out here today. How’d you get here so fast?”

He waved a hand, which revealed a huge gold watch that glinted so bright, it nearly blinded me through the glass. “You have ten minutes today, so I suggest you get down to business.”

“Morales? A minute?” I said calmly.

Uncle Abe smiled. Dicky checked his watch. Morales ducked out of the room and met me in the hallway.

“You know, if he wasn’t such a pain in my ass, I’d almost admire your uncle’s moxie.”

“We don’t have much time,” I said. “I’m not sure what he’s playing at, but we need to be extra careful. Dicky’s a real shark.”

“I wonder if we should just leave it. He probably won’t allow Abe even to share his birth date now.”

“If we back down now, they’ll think they won.”

“Kate, they kind of have.”

I shook my head. “Nope. Get back in there and ask him about the Fangshi. If nothing else, it tells him we’re on his scent.”

He sighed. “All right, but I’d like to go on the record that I think this is a waste of time.”

“Noted. Now get in there, Tiger.” I smacked him on the ass and marched back into the room.

Once I was back behind the mirror, I watched Morales return to his seat. Abe rocked back on two chair legs, a smug smile on his face, as if he fully expected Morales to cancel the interview.

“Thanks for waiting. I’ll try to make this quick.” He made a show of opening the case file filled with all the paperwork Dixon had dug up on the Fangshi’s business interests in Babylon.

Abe froze and shot his lawyer a look. Dicky shook his head and made an easy-now gesture with his right hand. Dicky took a box of cigarettes, lit one, and handed did over to Abe without being asked.

My uncle took a long drag of the purple Viceroyal and exhaled slowly. “Let me guess, you’ve stalled on a case and need my help.”

“No, actually, we have a couple of questions about your business interests in the Cauldron.” Morales clasped his hands on the table top.

“You have us at a disadvantage, Special Agent,” Dicky said. “My client obviously doesn’t have access to any of his records in here.”

“Which is why it’s so convenient you’re here, Mr. Goldman.” Morales smiled. “Seeing how as his attorney, you’d be involved in setting up any business for Mr. Prospero.”

Dicky laughed. “I’m a criminal attorney.”

“I couldn’t have said it any better myself.”

While Dicky stiffened with offense, Morales turned to Abe. “We have questions about some properties we believe you own.”

Dicky jumped in. “As you’re well aware, anything owned by Mr. Prospero that wasn’t seized by the state was placed in a trust to be managed by an executor on behalf of my client and his heirs.”

“Who is the executor?” Morales asked in a reasonable tone.

Dicky smiled a shark’s smile. “Where’s your warrant?”

“We were hoping this might be a friendly chat.” Morales shifted in his seat and tried a different tactic. “The property in question is a Chinese restaurant called the Jade Moon. It’s owned in a joint venture between Waidan Imports and Cockatrice Holdings.”

“Who told you that?” Abe snapped, but Dicky put a hand on his arm.

“Again, I would advise my client not to answer that question—”

“I didn’t ask a question yet,” Morales pointed out.

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