Chapter 7
“Her again?” Webb asked. He, Vic, and Erin stood in the observation room next to the interrogation room. They were looking at Siobhan, who was sitting at the table, one arm cocked over the back of her chair, legs crossed. A small smile still played at the corners of her mouth.
“She’s nothing but trouble,” Vic muttered. “She lawyer up yet?”
“No,” Erin said. She was perplexed by that. Siobhan was smart, and smart criminals knew to ask for an attorney right away.
“She’s cocky,” Webb observed. “Maybe we can use that. You think it’ll help or hurt to have you in the room, O’Reilly?”
Erin shrugged. “She hates me, but that’ll probably make her more talkative.”
“Okay,” he agreed. “You and me, then. Neshenko, stay here.”
“Fine with me,” Vic said. “I don’t want to get any crazy on me. That woman is bat-shit.”
“This has nothing to do with our case, of course,” Webb said to Erin as they stepped out into the hall. “But the Rüdel homicide is still open. Let’s see if we can close it.”
“We’ll need a confession if we want to hang it on her,” Erin said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have brought her in.”
“We’ll see,” Webb said. “A lot of crooks actually want to confess. Let’s hear her story, see what she’s got to say for herself.”
Siobhan watched them come in. Her eyes glittered when she saw Erin. She looked Webb up and down and slowly licked her lips. Erin was reminded of a cat. Not a domestic one, either. Maybe a tiger.
“Miss Finneran,” Webb said, sitting down opposite her. Erin remained standing behind him, a little to one side.
“Lieutenant,” she said, giving the word the British Isles pronunciation.
“What are you doing in New York City?” he asked.
“Visiting a… friend,” she said, hesitating just a little before the final word.
“You flew into JFK?”
“That’s what’s stamped in my passport.”
“You weren’t detained at the airport?”
Siobhan’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “Why? Am I in some sort of trouble?”
“You’re on Homeland Security’s list,” Erin broke in. She knew, because she’d put it there. That had been one of the mopping-up details after the Civic Center bombing.
“Am I?” Siobhan replied.
That was an interesting puzzle. She should’ve been grabbed by the TSA as soon as she landed. But it wasn’t the first time Homeland Security had screwed up and let someone fly they shouldn’t have. Erin let it pass.
“We know you were gunning for Rüdel,” she said. “We ran into each other looking for him, remember?”
“Excuse me,” Siobhan said. “Are we talking about the lad who tried to blow up your headquarters last year?”
“You know we are,” Erin said.
“The lad you shot, if memory serves?”
“That’s him.”
“So you’re accusing me of killing the lad you were trying to kill?”
“You blew up his car,” Erin said. “Innocent people could’ve been killed.”
“You know where I come from, darling,” Siobhan said with a sardonic smile. “And you know the Irish Republican Army does its best to avoid collateral casualties.”
“You’re saying you were careful not to blow the bomb until Rüdel was the only one in the blast zone?” Webb asked.
“You’re saying that, big fella,” she said. “I’m just saying, if I were to pop off a lad, I’d be careful not to hit anyone I didn’t want to. I’m speaking hypothetically, of course.”
“You saved my life,” Erin said, looking hard at Siobhan. “You warned me about the bomb, right before it went off.”
Siobhan’s eyes turned hard, like chips of jade. “So now you’re accusing me of assisting an officer? Would that be a crime?”
“No,” Webb said. “So you warned Detective O’Reilly about the explosion?”
“Seems to me I couldn’t have done that unless I’d known about the bomb ahead of time. Are you asking me to confess to something?”
Erin cursed inwardly. She and Webb had laid a trap, but Siobhan had stepped around it. Maybe the woman didn’t need a lawyer after all. Siobhan was guilty, Erin knew she was guilty. Hell, Siobhan wanted them to know she was guilty. But all this was hearsay and circumstantial. None of it would lead to a conviction.
“We got DNA swabs off the bomb,” Webb said suddenly.
This was a lie. Lying in interrogation was totally legal and acceptable behavior. It was also risky, because it was a bluff.
“Did you, now?” Siobhan said. “From what I heard, that’s the only way you’d have been able to identify the poor bastard. It was probably all that was left of him.”
“I’m talking about the bomb-maker’s DNA,” Webb said.
“If that’s so, you’d best go arrest the lad,” she retorted. “Why are you wasting my time with this conversation?”
“We know you killed him,” Webb said.
“Then you’d best charge me and be done with it. We’ll see how it plays out in the courts.”
“Why are you here?” Erin demanded, leaning over the table toward the other woman.
“Are you codding me? You brought me here in handcuffs yourself, you bloody eejit,” Siobhan snapped, her Irish coming out stronger.
“In New York, smartass,” Erin said, not giving an inch. She knew an angry suspect was more likely to slip up.
“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend, you feckin’ floozie?”
Erin inwardly froze. Webb glanced at her, and in his eyes she saw a question he wasn’t about to ask in front of a suspect. She reminded herself it would just sound like ordinary interrogation-room trash-talk to him.
“I’m asking you,” she said, holding on to her self-control.
“I was wanting a drink,” Siobhan said. “Or is that illegal here, too?”
“We can hold you overnight,” Erin said. “Without charging you.”
“If you hold me all night, it’ll be a new experience for you,” Siobhan said. “I expect most of your squeezes are out the door the moment they’ve done the job on you.”
“We’re done here,” Webb said, standing up.
“Not quite,” Siobhan said. “I’ll be wanting my telephone call.”
“What’d you think, Neshenko?” Webb asked.
Vic shrugged. “We already know she blew up Rüdel. My question is, why do we care?”
Webb gave him a hard look. “That’s several major felonies
