“The Royal Suite is secured. We need you to open the shuttle strip. We’ll transport it back to London from there.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Lieutenant, the attendees, we’ll call them. You can charge them.”
“And I will.”
“These are extremely wealthy individuals with connections in high places. It won’t stick. Deportation, yes, criminal charges, no.”
“It’ll leave a smear. The international media’s going to go batshit.”
His lips twitched into a smile. “You have a good point on that.”
“And anyone who deployed a weapon against your officers or mine, I’ll make it stick.”
“I applaud you for it, and for the success of this operation. You’ll have our full cooperation. The catering staff?”
“I’ve got Carmichael and Santiago interviewing them now. Most likely, they’ll be released. I need to bat cleanup here, Abernathy.” At his blank look she translated. “Finish this up. I’ll clear the shuttle strip. You deal with the paperwork on the emeralds.”
Long before she returned to Central, Channel Seventy-Five broke the story of the raid, the recovery, and the arrest of Joy Barrister.
It didn’t surprise her to find Kyung waiting in the bullpen, and wearing one of his well-tailored liaison suits even at that hour of the morning.
“Lieutenant, congratulations. Major congratulations.”
“And my reward is a media conference.”
“I’m afraid so. The list of those arrested at Cochran Estates has leaked. Many are well-known names. So is, of course, Joy Barrister. You deserve better than addressing the media, and at eightA.M. I realize that only gives you a few hours at best. I doubt it’s necessary, given your connections, but I’d be happy to arrange a hotel.”
“I’ve got work. I’ll take a booster. Don’t worry about it,” she said before he could speak. “But I’m out by nine. I’m interviewing the main players, so I’m out by nine.”
“If not before. I’ll make sure of it.”
She nodded, stepped back as those not already in the bullpen filtered in.
“Listen up! We’re going to interview the rich assholes we collared tonight. Teams of two. Make it sweaty. None of them are getting more than a slap on the wrist, if that, but make it sweaty. The DOJ will take it from there. We’re going to interview those with illegal weapons, any who deployed weapons of any kind, any who obstructed officers. Make that sweatier.
“Trueheart, get an ice pack on that eye, and everyone’s cleared for a departmentally approved booster. You did damn good work tonight. Commendations will be forthcoming.” She paused. “So will pizza.”
She went into her office, where Roarke waited with coffee, a candy bar, and a booster. “Take the booster first, since you won’t be leaving this morning.”
She popped the booster, gulped coffee. “I can’t. This is going to takehours, plus media deal at oh-eight hundred. You’ve done more than your share. Go home, get some sleep.”
“What I will do is have Summerset send or bring us both a change of clothes. I’m in this until it’s done.”
“All right, but you could catch a couple hours in the crib.”
“Not in this lifetime. I’ve seen the crib. I’ll be in EDD, helping close this down.”
“In that case, I just promised pizza.”
He smiled, kissed the faint bruise on her jaw. “I’ll take care of that.”
“Thanks. You ought to know, I punched her in the face again.”
He lifted his brows, brushed a finger over the bruise. “Did she give you that?”
“Give me a break. She threw a chair at me. Missed. She won’t get anywhere trying to tangle you up. You have to trust me there.”
