Spade wrote both names down.“Addresses.”
Roth hesitated.
Atilla stepped closer.“You give us this, you get something besides a bullet.We make sure they walk away when this ends.Not rich.Not with his blood money.But alive.I give you my word.”
Roth looked at him.Really looked.Something in his shoulders sagged.
He rattled off an address for the city condo.Another for a house in a gated community outside town.
Spade typed them in, cross-checking with what he already had.“Matches.I saw those in the property records.Didn’t know who lived there.I do now.”
Roth laughed bitterly.“You boys don’t miss much.”
“Try not to,” Spade said.“Saves time.”
We grilled him for another hour.He talked about Diaz’s lieutenants.Men with nicknames and scars.The port foreman who took an extra cut and thought Diaz didn’t know.The cop on Diaz’s payroll who’d started drinking too much and might be a liability soon.
I filed the names away.Spade wrote and wrote.
Roth’s voice grew hoarse.Sweat ran down his neck.Once, when he shifted, he groaned, shoulders protesting from hours tied to the chair.
I should have felt something then.Pity, maybe.I didn’t.When Spade finally sat back and closed his notebook, I felt the energy in the room shift.
“That’s enough for now,” he said.“I need to plug this into my board before it leaks out of my ears.”
Roth licked his cracked lips.“So what now?You drag this out another day?Try to squeeze more out of me?”
Atilla walked forward until he stood right in front of Roth.“You gave us enough for now.But you did it for yourself.Don’t pretend otherwise.Regardless, it helped.”
Roth’s gaze flicked up.“You going to thank me?”
“No,” Atilla said.“I’m going to give you what Diaz wouldn’t.”
Roth’s throat worked.“A deal?”
“A clean ending,” Atilla said.
Silence settled.
Roth stared at him.“You said…” He swallowed.“I thought you needed more.”
Spade leaned back in his chair.“We got enough.You handed us framework, names, patterns.Jason’s notes will fill in whatever gaps remain.Letting you breathe beyond today would give Diaz more ways to track you down.I don’t want to offer him the opportunity.”
“You promised me --” Roth started.
“I promised not to touch Diaz’s family,” Atilla cut in.“I promised to use what you gave us to hurt him, not them.I didn’t promise you’d walk out of this cellar.”
Roth’s eyes flashed.“You lied.”
“No,” Atilla said.“I told you the truth you wanted to hear.You heard what you liked and ignored the rest.Same way you did with Diaz.You want to yell about fairness?You picked the wrong room.”
Roth laughed once, harsh.“So this is it.This is where you put a bullet in my head and dump me in a hole.”
General moved from the wall at last.He stopped beside Atilla.
I watched General’s face harden as he spoke.“I’ll never thank you, but Icanacknowledge one decent thing in a pile of rot.Doesn’t wash the rest away.You get a choice, though.”
Roth’s breathing picked up.“What kind of choice?”
