“Zoom in, Peabody. You see here on this display cabinet the names of the female victims, and in each compartment so labeled are their personal items of jewelry taken from their homes on the nights of the attacks. You see here on the shelves…”
She waited for Peabody to adjust. “Other items listed as stolen on the nights of the attacks. The dresses—including the one the droid is wearing—were stolen from the female victims on the nights of the attacks. You see here the costumes and professional makeup and the props used by Mr. Knightly on the nights of those attacks, including the black coat tagged in this recording, and these black leather gloves on which we found blood, blood that has been matched to Miko and Xavier Carver. You see this weighted sap on which we found the blood of those victims, as well as traces of Anthony Strazza’s.
“How did all these items come to be in your possession, Mr. Knightly?”
“Please refer your questions to me,” Drummond told her.
“Why? He hasn’t told you dick. You know it, I know it. When did you get the idea for it, Kyle? The costumes, the drama of it? It had to take you a while to set it all up. We found the mini cams, and the recordings from them on your comp. Easy to see how you’d plant them in your cousin’s place—and you were smart enough to take them out on the night you beat the crap out of him and raped his wife. I figure you did some legwork, slipped into the other places—and the ones you’ve yet to hit.”
Keeping her gaze on Kyle’s, she leaned back. “Jacie and Roderick Corbo, Gregor and Camilla Jane Lester, Toya L’Page and Gray Burroughs—and more. We’ve got a team going to the residences on your target list, taking the cams you planted into evidence. You watched them in their own homes, you perverted little fuck—”
“Lieutenant!” Drummond objected, but she just rolled over him.
“You listened to the their private conversations. It gave you your windows—when they’d be out and gone, their schedules, their routines. And you watched those recordings in that room, imagining what you’d do to them, especially her.”
“Fix this.” Kyle turned on his lawyer. “Now. I’m not going to sit here and listen to this bullshit.”
“Lieutenant, I’d like another moment to consult with—”
“I don’t want to consult,” Kyle exploded. “I said fix this, and fix it now.”
“Lieutenant, I require time to speak to my client off this record.”
Eve shrugged, rose. “Dallas and Peabody exiting Interview. Record off.”
Peabody blew out a breath. “He really thinks the lawyer can just wave a magic lawyer wand and make it all go away.”
“Because it happened that way before. He gets in a little jam, somebody takes care of it. A bigger jam, somebody fixes it. I expect we’ll uncover a lot of that.”
“The thing is, the lawyer looks shocked, but not really surprised.”
“Good eye, Detective. He is shocked, but as it comes out, bit by bit, he’s starting to think of things, remember comments or gestures or behavior. Maybe he remembers funneling money to a woman who cried rape or abuse, a woman he probably didn’t believe at the time. Or he believed her, but tidied it all up for his client.”
Eve stepped aside when Drummond came out.
“Ready?”
“I … I am no longer Mr. Knightly’s attorney of record.”
“Probably a smart move on your part.”
“His choice, not mine. Still, I’ve never handled a capital case. Kyle … he needs an attorney experienced in capital crimes. He needs a psychiatric evaluation. He—”
“You’re not his lawyer,” Eve reminded him. “He’s entitled to one, as experienced as he can get. He will be evaluated. Excuse me.” She stepped back to the door, glanced back at him. “How many women? How many did you pay off after he raped them?”
Drummond merely shook his head. He looked sick, Eve thought, physically ill. But he shook his head and walked away.
She went into Interview.
“Record on. Dallas and Peabody reentering Interview. Mr. Knightly, have you dismissed your attorney?”
“Dismissed? I fired his useless ass.”
“Do you wish to contact and engage other legal representation at this time?”
“Oh, I’ll get legal representation.” Contempt rolled through his voice, glittered in his sneer. “I’ll get the best lawyers out there, believe it.”
“Do you wish to contact a lawyer at this time?”
“I need to do some research, conduct interviews.”
“Very well. Peabody, arrange for Mr. Knightly to be taken back to his cell.”
“Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit! I want a hearing.” He jabbed a finger on the table. “I want a goddamn hearing, I want bail, and I want out. Now.”
“None of those things are going to happen. You can bring Mr. Drummond back in to represent you, contact another lawyer or representative, waive your right to legal representation at this time and talk to us, or go back to your cell. That’s the full menu.”
“I know my rights.”
“You should, we’ve read them to you twice. And I don’t believe we’re the first. Where in there does it say Kyle gets to go home because he wants to?”