“It’s expanded into more than a tiff. What gets me,” she said, “is that Bowie still tolerates Haskell, who, in my opinion, is becoming more erratic each day. Even Bowie said to his face that he’d lost his perspective and all reason.”
“If only that were the case.”
“Granted. Haskell is clever and motivated by his wife’s death. He’s also gutsy and unpredictable. He’s a problem Malone should have handled for you.”
There was another weighty silence, then a sinister chuckle. “It sounds as though you’re hoping to assume some of Roland’s responsibilities.”
“Give me the go-ahead, and I could take care of Haskell, and do it in a way that no one would suspect me.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“I’ve proven myself to be a valuable asset, sir.”
“You have indeed. A valuable asset to the wrong side.”
Suddenly she realized that the smooth voice coming to her through the phone was also coming from directly behind her. She turned to discover Bowie and Haskell standing a few feet away.
Haskell had a cell phone to his ear. Speaking in the voice he’d used this morning to convince her that she was communicating with Oz, he said, “You have the right to remain silent.”
Chapter 43
By the time Clarence returned from the diner, Nix had been Mirandized and cuffed. El Paso had already been taken away. John had summoned another squad car to come for Nix.
Lear, her former partner, stood in the background, watching with remarkable indifference as Mitch questioned her about Oz’s identity. “Did Malone ever tell you Oz’s real name? Do you know who he is?”
She didn’t speak a word.
When the car arrived, Mitch and John escorted her over to it. Before getting in, she faced the pair of them with defiance. “You’ve got to admit that I was good. You were completely taken in.”
“Until we weren’t,” John said. “We’d suspected you for months, but after Bayou Coeur, we were ninety-nine percent sure. This morning after we found out about Malone, Mitch came up with the idea of pretending to be Oz. You fell for it hook, line, and sinker.”
Mitch flashed her a grin. “See, we’re good, too. You’ve been completely taken in.”
She frowned. “By what?”
“Our ‘going at each other’ and him accusing me of ‘losing perspective and all reason.’ Our tiff has all been an act.”
She divided a look of disbelief between them. “Since when?”
“We debuted it with my unruly drunk episode. John showed up at the jail last Sunday morning with his steely-eyed glower well in place.” Mitch shivered. “Scared me into thinking it might be for real. But all those arguments we staged, you were taking straight to Malone, and that’s what we wanted.”
“The therapy with Dr. Reede?”
“Essential,” John said. “We’d learned Malone was her patient. Mitch hoped to get Malone’s secrets, hopefully admissions, from her.”
“We set it up to look like I was going off the rails so John would insist on therapy for me,” Mitch said. “Appearing to be on John’s shit list gave me the freedom to operate a little more… How would you put it, John?”
“Unregulated.”
“Unregulated,” Mitch repeated, then stepped back and motioned Nix into the car. “We’ve kept you too long, and you’ve got people at the jail waiting on you.”
As John assisted her into the back seat, she said, “Suppose I could help you. Provide you with information about Oz’s operation. I could name a few names.”
“Can you name his?” Mitch asked.
“No.”
“Gee, that’s too bad.” He closed the car door and thumped the roof of the car.
