Page 69 of Dirty Looks

“Leonore Collins,” she said in a loud clear voice. “With Bastrop, Stevens, Gryzbowski.”

“Let’s start with the obvious,” Martinez said, opening up a file that was in front of him. “You made a statement yesterday to one of our officers that you and Robert Lidle were at Mr. Lidle’s apartment on Monday evening. The same night Evie Lidle was murdered. Is that correct?”

“That is correct,” he said.

“You don’t wish to retract or amend your statement in any way?” Martinez asked.

“Don’t badger the witness,” Leonore said, taking a yellow legal pad out of her bag and a pen so she could take notes.

“This isn’t a trial,” Martinez said, smiling cordially. “I’m just asking questions.”

“No,” Geoffrey said. “I don’t wish to amend anything.”

Jack had an electronic tablet in front of him and he turned it so Geoffrey could see the screen.

“You see, we have a problem here,” Jack said. “You see these dots? This is your cell phone and Robert Lidle’s cell phone pinging off the cell tower over in King George Proper.”

Geoffrey was silent, but I could see the slightest sheen of sweat gathering at his temples.

“We had our IT guy do a search,” Jack continued. “And he discovered that Robert Lidle bought several pieces of property not far from where those phones pinged about eight years ago. Bought them up cheap out of his spousal account. That’s strange, isn’t it? I mean, why would the husband of one of the wealthiest women in the world bother buying up some little pissant rental homes in King George. And none of them are rented out, so it’s not like it’s bringing in income.”

“Sheriff Lawson,” Leonore said. “People buy investment property for any number of reasons. And since Mr. Higgins isn’t the owner of said property, he couldn’t possibly speculate as to the reason the deceased purchased it.”

“Oh, couldn’t he?” Martinez asked, taking up the baton. “You’ve been Mr. Lidle’s personal secretary for twenty-one years. You know him better than he knows himself. You know every dirty little secret. And there are so many of them, aren’t there? Did it even bother you to know that he’d raped and sold his own granddaughter?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Leonore said. “You’ve got no proof.”

“Just the testimony of the granddaughter,” Jack said. “Emma Lidle. Since she was able to escape before she ended up dead like her sister.”

“The testimony of a drugged-up runaway teenager isn’t much in the way of proof,” Leonore said.

My hands tightened into fists in my lap. I hated Leonore Collins in that moment.

Jack ignored her, never taking his gaze off Geoffrey. “We had to do some digging on those houses. The owner was hidden under layers of shell companies. Those are the holding houses for the trafficked girls. We’ve already got a team on the way to go over every inch of them with a fine-tooth comb.”

“Y’all have had quite an operation going,” Martinez said. “You notice how I lump you in with Robert Lidle? Maybe you thought you were just hired help and doing what you were told. But the truth is you had full knowledge of Robert Lidle’s illegal operation and helped him facilitate it.”

“Again,” Leonore said. “Proof.”

“We’ve just taken into evidence both Robert Lidle’s and Geoffrey Higgins’s electronic devices,” Jack said. “They’re linked so Geoffrey could do whatever it is a personal secretary does. He’s not escaping on this.”

“Here’s where we can help you out, Geoffrey,” Martinez said. “We know there are a lot of people involved in this. Alan Goble for one. He’s been paid a pretty nice chunk of change from Robert Lidle during his tenure here. Who else? How did Evie get from this house to Regent Park?”

Geoffrey hadn’t moved, but I could see fear in his eyes as the noose grew tighter around his neck.

“Regent Park is a little over a mile from where your phone pinged the night of Evie’s murder,” Jack said. “Here’s what I think happened.”

“Oh, I can’t wait for this,” Leonore said.

“Evie was supposed to be just like Emma,” Jack said softly, dangerously. “Twelve years old. That’s the perfect age for a grandfather to groom his granddaughter. But he can’t do it in this house. Not after what he’d done to Emma, though Emma followed instructions. She was too afraid of what would happen to her family if she told anyone.

“But Evie wasn’t like Emma,” Jack continued. “She was spirited and curious and probably trusted whoever she left this house with. Did her kidnapper deliver her to you? Maybe you’re the one who raped her.”

“No,” he said, almost at a shout. “I would never do such a thing.”

“You just watch people do the dirty work, is that it?” Martinez asked.

“If you didn’t rape her, who did?” Jack asked. “We’ll get a warrant for your DNA.”

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