Now Briggs could see the trap coming. I wouldn’t have that kind of knowledge unless I did my homework and already knew about the relationship. Briggs leaned back in his chair, cuing up his next lie.
He said, “Detective, you know damned well that Mr. Orton and I went to college together. You wouldn’t be asking the question if you didn’t know. But that doesn’t change the fact that I went there to see if you were doing your job. You tend to get sloppy in your investigations when you’re distracted by the past. But don’t worry, Rupert. After you’re terminated, you can spend all the time you want chasing your wife’s ghost.”
My chest tightened as thoughts of beating this man to a pulp flashed by. He was trying to provoke me. I refused his bait. Shoving my emotion aside, I got back to the game.
“You say you didn’t talk to Orton, yet I have a nurse telling me he heard you having a conversation.” A lie, but Briggs was off balance and I wanted to take advantage of it.
“I . . . I may have said hello.”
“A conversation, Briggs. The nurse heard back-and-forth. I have video of you in that room for almost twenty minutes. That’s not just saying hello.”
“Okay, we spoke, but I never—”
“So you were lying just now when you denied talking to Orton.”
“As I said, we went to college together. I only asked him how he was doing. That’s all.”
“No, that’s not all. You told him to stop talking to me.”
“That’s a Goddamned lie.” Briggs tried to take the offensive. “I would never impede an investigation. And if you tell anyone differently, you’re a liar. It’s slander. If you utter a word about that to anyone, I’ll sue your ass.”
I smiled and lifted the digital recorder from my pocket, the one with Orton’s confession on it. I gently laid it on the desk in front of me. “Are you sure that’s the answer you want to stick with?”
Briggs tried to act calm, but the darting of his eyes, bouncing from me to the recorder and back, gave away his fear. I hit play.
Briggs turned ashen when he recognized Orton’s voice. I watched his expression melt from anger to fear as we listened in silence. When the recording was finished, I turned it off and returned it to my pocket, along with the photograph.
“Orton’s a liar,” Briggs said. “That bullshit about WE Fest—I never—what kind of game are you playing here, Rupert? You violated Miranda. You got him to make up a pack of lies. What did you promise him?”
“No, Briggs. That’s not going to fly. You can’t spin your way out of this.”
“You have nothing. The word of a murderer.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the hard drive, holding it up for Briggs to see. “I have your voice,” I say. “You give the location of the accident. It will be easy enough to get the accident reports from five years ago. You nearly killed some poor woman, and then you stand by and watch her get convicted of your DWI. Hell, you dodged a charge of criminal vehicular injury.”
My bluff of the hard drive hit him hard, and I could see him floundering to find a way out.
“How are you going to prove that I was drunk? Go ahead and report it. The worst I’ll get is reckless driving.”
“You’re missing the big picture here, Briggs. You interfered with a murder investigation, and you did it to repay a debt to Dennis Orton. The WE Fest accident merely corroborates Orton’s version. You’re screwed.”
“It’s the word of a murderer against mine,” Briggs said. He was trying to come across as confident, but it wasn’t working.
“I think we should test that theory,” I said. “I’ll turn all this over to the press, and we’ll see how many people believe you. We could put a wager on it. Think about it, Briggs. The second in command of the Homicide Unit actively working to thwart a murder investigation as payback for a criminal cover-up. You were helping a murderer.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“You told him to shut up. You were looking for a way to get Orton out of trouble.”
“Don’t get carried away, Max. You have your back against the wall as much as I do.”
“My back’s to the wall? How do you figure?”
“You were investigating your wife’s case. That’s enough to get you fired. I’m willing to make a deal here. I’ll turn a blind eye to your improper investigation, and you forget about that recording in your pocket. If you pull your trigger, you’ll force me to pull mine. Let’s call it a Mexican standoff and walk away.”
“Mexican standoff?”
“You look past my mistake, and I’ll look past yours.”
I leaned into his desk and looked him in the eye. “The thing about a Mexican standoff—Briggs—is that it won’t work if one of the men doesn’t care if he gets shot. You figured me all wrong if you think I’d give a goddamn about getting fired. Your downfall, on the other hand, will be a spectacular thing—public and humiliating.” My words bounced with laughter as I spoke. “You’ll be torched in the press. This might even make the national news. Think about it, Briggs—CNN. You could become famous.”
“You’re bluffing. You need this job every bit as much as I do. You’re nothing if they take that badge away.”
“Wrong answer, Briggs.”
I reached across his desk and picked up the phone receiver, punching the direct line to Chief Murphy. Murphy’s assistant answered.
“Yes. This is Detective Max Rupert calling, is Chief Murphy available?”
Briggs snatched the phone from my hand and slammed it back to its cradle. He had no more cards to show. We both knew it was over. His voice quivered when he spoke next.
“You can’t do this.”
“What the hell were you thinking, Briggs?”
“I messed up. I’m sorry. Please don’t—”
“Once the story’s out, there’s no police department in the world that would hire you. Hell, forget law enforcement. Any company that checks your name on the Internet will see the articles. You’ll be a pariah—and all because of your damned ambition.”
“Why are you doing this to me? Please, I’m begging you. Don’t do this to me.”
One of the most valuable lessons that I learned from reading Sun Tzu was that if your enemy is cornered, they may lash out. Instead of boxing them in, give them a path through which to escape and you can lead them to any place you desire.
“Okay, Briggs, here’s what’s going to happen,” I said. “You will tender your resignation to Chief Murphy.”
“I . . . I can’t,” His voice limped weak past his lips.
“You will, and you’ll do it today—right now.”
He stared at me in confusion, as if my words hung in the air just beyond his grasp.
“I’m giving you a gift here, Briggs. I’m letting you make up whatever lie you want to explain why you’re leaving. You may even have a career in law enforcement down the road, but that career won’t be here.”
“This is not right,” he said. “I worked too hard to—”
“Briggs.” I spoke sharply to pull him out of his haze. “You need to start typing that resignation letter. I’m done talking.”
“I . . . I can’t.”