Heat turned to a clean page in her notebook. “Great. Give me the number.”
“One sec.” He smiled weakly. “I forget. Gah! It’ll come to me.”
“Did you ever see this Black Knight?” asked Feller.
“A guy visited a couple of times to ask me questions, but they put a hood over me for that. Considering my circumstances, I didn’t think it would be a good idea to ask if he was Black Knight.”
“Weenie,” said Feller.
“So all I heard was his voice. It was deep, kind of Southern, but not quite Heart of Dixie.”
“Like Oklahoma,” said Heat.
“Yes! Or Texas panhandle. How did you know?”
“I think I may have encountered him in a parking garage.” She glanced at the wall clock. “Later for that.”
“And you were never beaten or threatened? Waterboarded?” asked Ochoa.
“Don’t sound so disappointed, Miguel. No. The guy, Black Knight, or whoever he was, just kept asking me a bunch of questions.”
Hoping for a link to Tangier Swift, Heat asked, “Was it about the SwiftRageous whistle-blow?”
“Ish,” said Rook. “Questions like, Did I ever see Swift meet with anyone other than the whistle-blowers? Was I aware of his recent travel? I don’t know what he was digging for.” He swirled the coffee in his cup and took a sip. “By the way, let the record show, I gave them nothing.” Then he smiled at Nikki. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m very good at keeping secrets.”
Nikki didn’t like the way George Gallatin had made himself feel at home in the box when she strode in. The muscleman had lounged backward in his chair as far as his restraints would allow and was balancing on the two back legs while he enjoyed his view of himself in the mirror. “I’d say be careful, you’re going to take a fall, George—but we both know you’re already set up to take one.” She let her paperwork drop to the tabletop at her place and took a seat. Becks seemed underimpressed and concentrated on his balancing act.
She kept at it, trying to find the pressure point. Heat didn’t want to lose sole possession of her captive before he gave up who he was working for. “Kidnapping is a Class B Felony carrying five to twenty-five in this state. Add to that resisting arrest and battery of a police officer. And I’m going to hazard a guess that you have a number of other warrants out, which would fill up your date book deep into this century.”
He let himself fall forward on the front legs of the chair, unfazed. “That guess you’re hazarding? It’s because you don’t even have a way to look me up on your fucking computers, do you? Don’t bullshit me. You have no levers to pull.”
“Mr. Gallatin—”
“You can pull my dick’s what you can pull.”
Comments like that rolled off Heat. Years in that room had inured her to abuse. But not prevented her from giving it back. “From what I’ve seen, I’d have to find it first. Why do you think I kicked you in the head instead of between the legs?”
Amused, he hunched his shoulders and made a primal yowl that shook the windows and, for a second, did make him seem like the Lord of the Rings Orc Rook had described. She flipped open her manila file and continued, “Your macho posturing will serve you well where you are going. But I am prepared to talk deal with you in exchange for information.”
“You could offer me a lap dance right now, and I wouldn’t tell you the color of my shit this morning.”