“Not likely.”
“If you had evidence of that, then the cops would be here, not you. You’ve got nothing.” He waved his hand at me, leaned against his car, and reached into his top pocket to remove another cigarette. “Maybe my website has something to do with them killing themselves, but I don’t feel bad about that. These guys made their own beds. They made their own decisions. If you live for money, and break your oath for wealth, then you can guarantee that karma will come for you. That’s life.”
“Your ruse is up. Each of those lawyers had a video posted on your website a week before they decided to kill themselves. That’s not a coincidence. That’s you inciting violence against others. There are laws against that. You’re going down for your involvement in these killings.”
“How ridiculous.” He lit his smoke and took a long drag. “Just because these men can’t take the pressure, doesn’t make me a murderer. Just because I tell the world how bad they really are, doesn’t mean I’m responsible for their deaths. These guys know what they’re doing. They know how bad they are. They know that they’re breaking their oath to uphold the justice system, just to get more money into their bank accounts. These men were scum, and the world won’t miss them.” He took another drag on the cigarette before looking at the end of it. “And how about the pressure that’s placed on the victims? How about that pressure? How about the pressure of not only being the victim, not only experiencing a horrific crime, but then watching those lawyers walk the criminal out of prison? How about that pressure?”
“Your website is the thing that links you to all this. We’ll find the evidence, and we’ll take you down for it.”
He laughed. “I don’t even run the website. I just post my videos to it. It gives me a voice. I have nothing to do with running the site.”
“Then who runs the website?”
“I’m not telling you. You think I care that defense lawyers are shooting themselves? Well, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t.”
“They’re not shooting themselves.”
“Of course, they are. What else could it be?” He laughed again. “You think that I’m going around and killing these guys and making it look like suicide? That’s a bit much, isn’t it? They deserve what’s coming to them. They’re victims of karma.”
“It’s you or one of your supporters.”
He froze, and I could see the thought spooked him. He paused for a long moment, and then stared at the end of his smoke. He nodded slightly, before taking a long drag, and blowing the smoke up into the air. “Interesting theory.”
“Any supporters that stand out?”
He scoffed. “Even if there were, I wouldn’t tell you. I don’t care if I’m inspiring people to take care of these vultures. If that’s true, then so be it. I won’t say that publicly, of course. I’ll deny I’ve said that, but people make their own choices. If a person is inspired by my posts on that website to deliver their own sense of karma on these dirty vultures, then so be it.”
“What did you call them?”
“Vultures. Every single one of those lawyers are in it for the money. They’re all vultures.”
Chapter 28
The lack of sleep was starting to hit me. I was struggling to keep my eyes open as I drove back through the streets of Chicago, racing along the Interstate, weaving in and out of traffic. The streetlights were catching in my eyes, and I slapped myself in the face a number of times to wake myself up. I arrived at Anthony Waltz’s building as the traffic was starting to ease off. I threw the truck into a parking spot, leaving the wheels hanging on the sidewalk. It was the only way my beast would fit.
It was 5:50pm, more than a day since I’d even considered sleep. I was running out of options. The footage of the back entrance to the Five-Five was one of my last hopes. Robbie didn’t start his shift until 6pm, so I knew I had a few minutes to kill. I dropped the seat back, closed my eyes, and easily drifted off. I woke in a startled jolt. Looking at my watch, an hour had passed. It took me a moment to remember my bearings. I was chasing a killer. I was chasing leads. I was protecting Casey. I checked myself in the rearview mirror, slapped myself in the face again, and stepped out of the car.
With adrenaline running through me, I walked past the doorman of the Five-Five and towards the security office. I moved past an older couple, past a young family, and past a suit yelling on the phone, moving through the stairwell and through the underground parking lot. With a strong shove, I threw open the door to the security office, expecting to find Robbie drawing pictures.
“Who are you?” There was an older man standing over the computer screens. “What are you doing in the security office?”
“My name is Jack Valentine. I’m a Private Investigator.”
“Ah, right.” The man sighed and turned back to the computer. “Yeah, Robbie told me about you. I heard that you were investigating Anthony Waltz’s death. Not much to investigate, I suppose. Guy shot himself. Must be easy money for you.”
The man was in his late fifties, balding on top and overweight through the middle. His skin looked wrinkled, and his shoulders made him look defeated. He sat down on the office chair and typed a number of commands on the keyboard. When the computer didn’t respond, he clenched his fist and punched the table lightly.
“I need to talk to Robbie.” I was blunt.
“You and me both.” The man shook his head. “He
