“But that accusation was obtained under drugs, Your Majesty,” he tried, apparently hoping to cast doubt upon the accusations against him. “It won’t stand up in court.”
“Correct. It won’t. But you do not stand accused before a lower court, Mr. Beckham. You stand accused before the Throne. I am not constrained by the rules of evidence the Throne has put in place for the lower courts. I must act in the best interests of the Empire as I see them, and your rights before the lower courts do not apply.”
“…I see, Your Majesty.” He paled still further.
“Yesterday, Mr. Beckham, Susan Kaplan died in that chair, at my order. We had a positive DNA identification on her from something she discarded during your assistance to Mr. Bronsky. We also have a partial DNA identification on you and Mr. Bronsky, as well as Ms. Kaplan’s answers during her interrogation. And so I offer you a choice. Answer our questions, honestly and completely, and earn some leniency from me, or we will drug the answers out of you and you will die, today, in that chair, as Ms. Kaplan did.”
“Leniency, Your Majesty?” Beckham’s expression perked up.
He’s being courteous, I’ll give him that, Ashton thought. Maybe this one will survive a little longer.
“I have considered the matter carefully, Mr. Beckham. If we in fact determine who gave the order for the assassination, based on your answers and other sources, I will give you an Imperial Pardon for all past crimes save this one, for which I will give you a suspended sentence of death. That would mean, though, that if you are ever again convicted of a felony, anywhere in the Empire, the punishment would be the carrying out of that sentence.”
“You would release me, Your Majesty?” Beckham seemed shocked.
“Under those terms, yes, Mr. Beckham.”
Beckham paused only briefly to consider.
“...I will answer your questions, Your Majesty.”
“Honestly and completely, Mr. Beckham.” Empress Ilithyia II was stern.
“Yes, Your Majesty.” He sounded – and looked – sincere.
“Be certain that you do, Mr. Beckham. Good day.”
The Empress rose and left the room.
The interrogation started moments later. But this one had a cooperative subject; Derek Beckham did not want to end his life in the same fashion that his sometime lover had on the previous day. He was being given the chance for a fresh start in exchange for his cooperation, and he intended to fulfil his end of the bargain, Ashton adjudged.
Within only a few minutes, Captain Mercer had reached what Ashton considered the heart of the interrogation.
“Was Josip Bronsky the shooter for last Monday night’s murder?”
“I only know him as Joey Bronze,” Beckham noted with a shrug. So Mercer corrected his mode of address.
“And Joey Bronze was the shooter?”
“Yes.”
“Joey Bronze hired you to be a spotter?”
“Yes.”
“Did Joey Bronze also hire Susan Kaplan to be a spotter?”
“No, that was my idea. He wanted to make sure his spotters would be careful and not be identified on security recordings, so I suggested a couple would be more obscure.”
“So you hired Susan Kaplan?”
“Yes. I introduced her to Joey, and he said that she was ok.”
“How long have you known Joey Bronsky?”
“I’m…not sure.” Beckham shrugged again. “Maybe…five years. We hang out at some of the same places.”
“Have you worked as a spotter for Joey Bronsky before?”
“Yes. Twice.”
“Those were murders as well?”
“Yes.”
Ashton leaned forward, listening intently, as Mercer continued the questioning.
“Which murders? That is, who were the victims?”
“One was an attorney, I think. That was in Imperial Park East, about a year, year and a half back. The other was a hooker. Domino Scarlatti. I think she was blackmailing a john, and he didn’t like it. That was more like two or two and a half years back.”
Ashton hit the arm of his chair with his fist, producing a soft thud. Then he glanced at Gorski, who was watching him, rather than the interrogation. Gorski leaned forward and murmured in his protégé’s ear.
“Looks like you nailed it, kiddo. That whole profile with associated cold cases was on the money.”
“Yes, sir. I knew it was Bronze, sir.”
“I know you did. And you did a good job. When this is all over – likely with the execution of Bronze, so hold onto your belly – I’ll see to it that those cases you’ve flagged are closed.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll help where I can.”
“I know you will.”
They broke for lunch. The Empress disappeared, along with her brother and the rest of the Imperial Guard, though before he left, Dunham kindly told them to make use of the Palace staff cafeteria, and told them how to reach it. Dr. Galway excused himself, then entered VR to check in with his practice and tend to matters there.
Gorski and Ashton entered VR and tagged up with Colonel Peterson, filling her in on how the interrogations were progressing, then Ashton sent a private message to Cally Ames – nothing of significance, more of the “Thinking of you” variety.
Then they headed for the staff cafeteria.
An hour after lunch found them all back in the observation room – save the Empress herself. Joey Bronze was placed in the “lie detector” chair and cuffed in place, then Captain Mercer entered the room.
“We have opened up one VR channel to you. There is a recording there you may wish to view before your interview.”
Then he turned and left the room.
Bronsky entered VR and watched the previous two interrogations, but when he emerged from VR, he was calm. He didn’t have the same pallid, anxious expression Derek Beckham had had, and Ashton knew that meant trouble. He glanced at Gorski, sitting beside him, and saw his clenched jaw – the older detective knew it, too.
So somehow they were
