CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE
“Was she telling the truth?” I asked.
“I think so,” said Jock, “but maybe not all of it.”
“Where did you get that telephone number you showed her?”
“One of our guys who’s interrogating Nitzler sent it to me this morning. They’re making progress with him. He’s scared shitless, wants to cooperate and get out of this with his life. I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
“You were serious then in telling Nigella he won’t survive?”
“Yeah. I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think it would be in the best interest of the intelligence agencies for him to live.”
“What now?” I asked.
“We wait. I should be hearing something from D.C. shortly.”
“Look,” said Logan quietly, “I think you took the starch out of her, Jock.”
Nigella sat slumped in the chair, her head in her hands. She was sobbing. I could almost see the waves of despair rolling across her consciousness. It wasn’t a pretty sight. A beautiful woman had been reduced to a quivering mass of regret.
“I didn’t enjoy that,” said Jock, “but I want her nervous. We may need to get more out of her. I’m not sure she told us everything she knows.”
“What’ll happen to her?” asked Logan.
“She’ll go to prison,” said Jock. “Probably get twenty years, unless she’s implicated in the murders. Then she’ll do life, or if Florida tries her, maybe get a ride on the needle. Everything she owns will be confiscated by the government. She’ll lose her law license.”
“That’s pretty harsh,” said Logan.
“Better than what Jim Desmond and those other kids got,” Jock said.
The three of us left the DEA offices and went to a small café down the block. We ate a leisurely lunch, idly chatting about the case and how things were starting to come into focus. I still had a lot of questions, but they’d have to wait until we got a clearer picture from D.C.
We were on our way back to the DEA office when Jock’s phone rang. The conversation was short. Jock closed his phone. “We’re going to Washington,” he said. “They’re about finished with Nitzler, but they’re giving us a shot at him in case we have any questions.”
“What about the killers?” I asked. “The Asians.”
“They were thugs involved with the drug runners that Nitzler hooked up with. They’re being rolled up by the police this afternoon. They’ll all be in custody before dark.”
“What can we learn in Washington?” Logan asked.
“Maybe the truth,” said Jock.