“Yes,” Gorski said. “I’m Stefan Gorski, and this is my protégé, Nick Ashton.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Cox said, and he and Galway shook hands with the investigators. “We’ll be getting under way in a little bit. Oh, and just so you know, when She comes in here, you don’t need to stand. Just greet her quietly. She expects we’ll all be paying attention to the interrogation.” He glanced at a padded chair beside the one Dr. Galway was settling into, and Gorski and Ashton stared at each other.
“Oh my,” Gorski murmured in dismay. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
Moments later, Dunham was back.
“It’s all set,” he said. “We’ll be getting started in just a few minutes.”
Just then, two Imperial Guardsmen entered the interrogation room. One placed a padded chair against the wall beside the door, then they took alert positions in the corner, flanking the padded chair.
Abruptly, Her Majesty, Empress Ilithyia II, entered the room and sat in the padded chair.
“Ms. Kaplan. Last Monday night, a young woman in my employ was murdered when she reached her apartment building. We know without any doubt that you were one of the spotters. We got your DNA profile from the gum you discarded in a trash bin on the arcade. Someone is going to come in soon and ask you about your role, who you were working for, and who the shooter was. You will answer these questions or suffer the consequences of your refusal.”
Ashton was shocked and aghast at the stream of profanity which spewed from Kaplan’s mouth then, all directed at the Empress.
“Fuck you, bitch! And fuck your little redheaded bitch, too. Friend of yours, huh? Well, too fucking bad. I know my rights, and I’m not going to answer any of your goddamn questions. So you can just go fuck yourself.”
“Very well.”
The Empress stood and turned to the Imperial Guard officer standing by the door, who opened and held it for her. Empress Ilithyia II issued orders before she exited the room.
“Drug the answers out of her, then execute her. I’ll send down an Imperial Decree authorizing it.”
A horrified Kaplan threw herself against her restraints.
“WAIT!” she screamed.
But it was too late to change her mind; the Empress was gone.
Moments later, the Empress entered the observation room and took her seat directly behind Cox and Galway, in front of Gorski and Ashton.
“Your Majesty,” the room’s occupants murmured, nodding to her.
“Please continue,” she responded, waving off their courtesies. “Dr. Galway, I fear your services are required in the interrogation.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Galway said. He caught up the handle of his small valise, rose, and left the room, appearing moments later with the interrogator in the interview room.
“Lieutenant Cox, are we ready?” the Empress asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Please notify Captain Mercer to begin the interrogation.”
The first act of the interrogation was to drug Kaplan. It required two Guardsmen and her shackles to restrain her for the administration, a fact which didn’t surprise Ashton in the least. He wanted to warn them to watch out for her fingernails. She screamed and cursed the entire time.
In despite of the drugs, however, the interrogation did not go well at all; Kaplan fought it the whole way. The first injection of the truth drugs did nothing – it simply wasn’t strong enough to overcome her willpower.
The second dose of drug unlocked her mouth, but still did not generate the desired information. Instead, it seemed to ramp up her ability to curse. The profanity which spewed from her mouth in those moments, like some bizarre, fouled artesian well, appalled and dismayed the young investigator. Ashton had never heard anyone make those kinds of statements before.
And there are some curse words she’s using I’ve never even heard of, he thought, watching. Damn. And I’m no innocent where that’s concerned. I think I’m glad Cal isn’t here to hear all that. She’d blush so red she’d be purple.
When the second dose still did not elicit the necessary response, the interrogator nodded again at Dr. Galway.
“There’s no coming back from this one, Captain.”
“I understand, Doctor. Proceed.”
Ashton knew what that meant. He was about to see someone lose her mind, though hopefully not until they had some answers from her.
He felt a slight movement at his side, and glanced down: Gorski’s fingers were wrapped in a death-grip on the arms of his chair, and were turning white with the force.
Uh-oh, Ashton thought. If that’s Stefan’s reaction to what’s coming, it’s gonna be really, really bad.
It was.
Moments later, the key question arose. Kaplan, no longer able to stop herself, finally answered.
“Who was the shooter for last Monday night’s murder?” Mercer asked.
“Joey,” a disoriented Kaplan responded.
“Joey Bronze?”
“Yes.”
There it was. The nail in the coffin. His accomplice had fingered Josip Bronsky, a.k.a. Joey Bronze, for the murder of Vasilisa Medved.
Moments later, she fingered the other accomplice.
“Who introduced you to Joey Bronze?”
“Derek.”
“Did Derek Beckham introduce you to Joey Bronze to be the second spotter last Monday night?”
“Yes.”
As the interrogator, Captain David Mercer of the Imperial Guard, gradually drew the details of payment from Kaplan, Ashton watched as the woman grew paler, finally turning an ashen gray. Her dilated eyes rolled wildly, somehow managing to look furiously angry in despite of that – Ashton was sure her real feelings showed there – and spittle dribbled from the corners of her mouth. Her breathing became shallow and irregular.
Still she continued monosyllabic answers in a gurgling voice, prompted by Mercer’s questions.
Her lips turned blue, and her body slumped farther and farther in the chair. Abruptly she convulsed briefly, and there was
