Delusion in Death

bar.”

“I was traumatized! I meant to self-terminate.”

“There are easier ways,” Eve pointed out. “Did you also mean to self-terminate when you took another vial of the hallucinogenic, palmed it off on Jeni Curve without her knowledge?”

“I don’t remember any of that. There are blanks in my memory. The shock. The stress. I want to speak with your superior!”

“Fuck that.” Eve slammed her hands on the table, pushed up to lean into his face. “You needed a vessel, she was handy. You made up some story about a man in black. You were the man, Lew. You. Do you know how many buildings on that street have security cams? Do you think you avoided all of them?”

“You idiot. I never went near camera range.”

“No? You’re sure. Your memory’s clear on that point?”

“I don’t know. You’re confusing me. I want to talk to your commanding officer. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“You can talk to me,” Reo suggested. “I’m Assistant Prosecuting Attorney Cher Reo.”

“Do you think I’m going to talk to an assistant? Some secretary?”

“That’s telling her, Lew.” Eve circled him. “Show her who’s in charge here. Who’s the fucking boss. You murdered a hundred and twenty-seven people, for Christ’s sake, without getting a drop of blood on you. And she sashays in here in her girly suit and sex-me-up shoes and expects you to give her the time of day?

“This is bullshit. Just bullshit. You put an entire city on notice, and you did it because you could, not for some crackpot end-of-days bullshit like your whacked-out grandfather. You’ve got book deals and vid deals coming. They’ll be beating down your door, throwing money at you. And fame. Everybody’s going to know your name, and fear it. That’s what you want, isn’t it? The attention, the respect you deserve.”

“That’s right, and I’m not talking to a bunch of idiot women.”

“Come on, Lew, show us your balls. Give us a thrill. When the real PA gets here, he’ll know he’s dealing with a man. A man who demands respect. Not some weak sister like Joe Cattery. That bitch Weaver was going to promote him over you. It was time for a game changer. Time to level the field. And all those happy hour assholes, slurping up the half-priced drinks. I bet they made you sick. Plenty more out there just like them, but you—you’re special. It’s about damn time people treated you the way you should be treated.”

“Joe was nothing. A flunky.”

“That’s right. That’s right. It had to burn your ass when he got the big bonus.”

“My bonus. Weaver fucked me over.”

“That bitch.” Not controlled now, Eve thought. Cornered, furious, cracking. “And it wasn’t the money, not really. Right? It was the principle. What did you do, Lew? Impress me. You had the formula, you had the journal—all those secrets inside the faded brown cover. Sure, we found that.” She kept her eyes steady when he blinked. “The men said you really put it together, Lew. All the time, the effort, the planning that went into building the lab, outfitting it. And the risk. Talk about balls. It’s dangerous, cooking up LSD, mixing it, getting all the parts and pieces together. That takes brains and balls. It takes imagination. People are going to talk about Lewis Callaway for generations.”

“You admit it.” He jabbed a finger at her. “You admit that.”

“I was messing with you before. Nobody’s ever going to forget what you did, who you are. Jesus, Lew, you’re in a league of your own. Tell me what you did. I’ll never forget.”

He shook his head, turned away again, but his breathing was fast, his eyes calculating.

Nearly there, she thought.

“If you did this,” Teasdale put in. “Can prove you did this, the agency will be very interested. They want people like you, Mr. Callaway, working for them. High-level positions.”

“Wait just a damn minute,” Eve began.

“Lieutenant, we’re talking about global security. My superiors—and this reaches the highest chambers—have authorized me to persuade Mr. Callaway, should he prove himself, should he offer details that leave no room for doubt he perpetrated these events, to consider an offer.”

“Working for the HSO?”

“Menzini’s talents have certainly been useful. My superiors are of the opinion yours will follow suit.”

“Some cushy job!” Eve rounded on Teasdale. “Some big, covert government deal? For killing people? I should’ve known you’d play it this way. Let me do all the work, then grab the prize at the end.”

“Those with the skill and aptitude for such matters are more useful with us than not.” Teasdale merely shrugged. “HSO values creativity and—as you so aptly stated—balls. But I can’t discuss any of it any further without solid evidence, and Mr. Callaway’s statement.”

“My grandfather works for the HSO? He’s alive and working for you?”

Teasdale pokered up. “I’m not at liberty to say anything more on that matter at this time. I don’t have that authority.”

“I should’ve known you’d screw me over,” Eve said bitterly.

“Priorities, Lieutenant. And power. The choice is yours, Mr. Callaway.”

“You thought you had me.” He sneered at Eve. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with. All my life I knew there was something more in me, something different. They tried to hold me back.”

“They?” Eve prompted.

“My parents. But I could always get what I wanted, make people do what I wanted—or pay. I knew I didn’t get the more from them. They’re nothing. Ordinary. And when … when I found out where I’d gotten it, I was happy. At last. I’ve finished playing the game, pretending to give a shit. People needed to pay.”

“Joe Cattery, Carly Fisher.”

With a cagey smile, Callaway folded his arms. “Immunity.”

“I can’t authorize that.” Reo put a little squeak in her voice. “My boss has to—”

“The HSO offer takes precedence over assistants,” Teasdale said, smugly. “Once Mr. Callaway has given me the information necessary, I’m authorized to make him that offer. People needed to pay,” she repeated to Callaway. “And you had the means.”

“I had what I needed. Cattery, Fisher, they’d pushed the wrong buttons, hadn’t they? Messed with the wrong person, and for the last time. That’s what I can bring to the table,” he told Teasdale. “I’ve got the means and the brains to make HSO the most powerful agency on-or off-planet.”

“I’m listening.”

“What’s the offer? Spell it out.”

“That depends on what you tell me, and what can be proven. I can tell you HSO is very interested and intrigued by your—alleged—talents.”

“Bureaucratic bitch,” Eve muttered, and got a cool smile from Teasdale.

“You’ve been outmaneuvered, Lieutenant. If, of course, Mr. Callaway elects to cooperate with us.”

“I’m going to have terms,” Callaway told Teasdale.

“We can certainly discuss terms, but we require proof you had not only the means, but did, in fact, execute these incidents.”

“They all did what I wanted, didn’t they? What I made them do. Everyone in that bar, in that crappy cafe danced to my tune. That’s what you’ll get with me,” he told Teasdale. “Someone who gets the job done.”

“What did you make them do, Mr. Callaway?” Teasdale asked.

“Kill each other. Slaughter. Live their fears and die fighting. It was all there in the journals, my grandfather’s papers. His crazy religious angle? You don’t have to worry about that from me. I’m not crazy, and I don’t believe in anything but myself.”

“That’s important. My superiors will want to be assured of just that.”

“Idiot Joe, sitting there, moping for his wife and brats. And I thought, you won’t mope much longer, asshole. I wanted Weaver, too, but she left, skipping out to have sex. I settled for Joe, and the rest of them. That fucking bartender, the bitch of a waitress, that stupid woman and her friends. All I had to do was put the vial in her pocket when she bumped into me. Already opened. It takes a few minutes to take effect, and I timed it right down to the heartbeat. That’s how good I am. Got a little headache, but that’s all. I was out in the air