Until then.
The suspect paused and canted his head to the side. A wide-open grin unclenched his red face. The blush faded and the freckles came back to it. “Ach! So close, huh, lady captain?” Links of chain scuffed the edge of the interview table as he swept an arm toward the mirror and called out to it. “You all catch that in there? Huh? See one more One PP stooge trying to sink me? Fail!” He mouthed a video game fizzle sound effect and sat back, self-satisfied, and looked at Heat. But then the amused stare became a glower—invasive and sinister—and even more menacing because he was still grinning. He leaned forward and said in a whisper, “You. Will regret this.”
Chilled, Nikki maintained her detachment and tossed it off. “Are you actually threatening me?” It was her turn to gesture to the mirror, and she did.
“That would be, what? Crazy.” A twinkle came into his eye. “No, I’m just pointing out that your bad judgment today will bother you. Definitely bother you.” He was too smart to be blatant and turned his implied threat into simulated advice. But Maloney’s words came wrapped in hostile intimidation. In anyone else, they would come across as a lame attempt to save face. The psych eval under Heat’s clasped hands told her they spoke of something more. Personalization.
Maloney’s attorney arrived, looking as if she’d been yanked out of a spin class, and took a seat beside her client. “Mr. Maloney will not be answering any more questions,” she began, straight out of the jailhouse lawyer’s playbook.
“Of course, that’s his right,” said Heat, “but it’s my job to keep asking them. Do what you will.”
“Thank you, Captain. Now, a question for you: Are there any charges against him?”
“Not at present. He’s a person of interest in a homicide investigation.”
“Did he resist arrest?”
“No. But he evaded.”
The attorney examined the arrest sheet. “My client states that he ran because he was in fear, not knowing you were police.”
“Oh, please…”
“And the confiscated ankle weapon was registered and conceal permitted?”
“Correct. But I still want to know about his whereabouts during the time of the murder. I want to know about the threat texted to his psychologist. And what I really want to know is, where are all his weapons?”
Maloney gave a side wink to the lawyer. “Tell her.”
“My client has already answered all of these questions today.”
“Excuse me?”
“Internal Affairs came to Mr. Maloney’s apartment this morning, confiscated all his guns, and brought him downtown for an extensive interview, including a paraffin test.” She read Nikki’s expression. “You didn’t know?”
“I…No.”
“You people. Get your shit together.” The lawyer stood. “IA had no grounds on which to hold my client, and they released him. Unless you have something they don’t, so will you.”
Heat tried not to look at Maloney. She didn’t need to. She knew the grin would be aimed at her. And that his eyes would be reminding her that she would regret this.
She already did.
Nikki stormed back and forth with the landline receiver to her ear, pacing along the glass wall of her office like an animal trapped in a zoo exhibit. After a series of clicks and transfers, she heard background sounds of silverware rattling and loud diner chatter as a familiar voice came on the line. “Lovell.”
“Detective Lovell, I’m not sure you remember me. This is—”
“I know exactly who this is. Detective—and, as of yesterday—Captain Heat. So you took the gold bars. Good for you.”