Purity in Death

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"Mr. Dukes, it's my understanding that approximately four years ago, your son had occasion to purchase an illegal substance from Louis K. Cogburn."

"That is correct."

"And on learning of this, you reported same to the police, filing an official complaint at that time."

"That is also correct."

"Subsequently charges in this matter against Cogburn were dropped. Can you tell me why?"

"The prosecutor's office refused to follow through." He stayed at attention. "Cogburn was put back on the street where he could continue to corrupt young minds, young bodies."

"I assume your son gave a full statement of the occurrence, and with the illegal substance in evidence traced back to Cogburn, it seems unusual that the prosecutor wouldn't press."

Cogburn's lips thinned. "The illegal substance had been destroyed. I would not have it in my home. It seemed my word, my son's word, was not enough against the word of trash."

"I see. That was difficult for you. Frustrating, I'm sure, for your family."

"It was."

It was interesting, Eve thought, that Dukes wore nearly the same blue uniform as his young son. The creases down the center of his trousers were so sharp they looked capable of cutting flesh.

More interesting were the waves of fury rolling off him. Hot, smothering waves of rage barely held in check.

"To your knowledge did your son continue to have dealings with Cogburn?"

"He did not."

But Eve saw the truth on Sylvia's face. The kid had gone back for more, Eve thought. And everyone knew it.

"I assume Child Services recommended illegals counseling for Devin."

"They did."

Eve waited a beat. "And did he complete the program?"

"I fail to see what this has to do with your investigation, Lieutenant," he said tightly.

She changed tacts again. "Can you tell me about the events surrounding Devin's experience with Chadwick Fitzhugh?"

"The man sexually molested my minor son." The first crack showed in Dukes's composure. But it wasn't grief Eve saw so much as disgust. "He forced himself on my son and engaged in unnatural acts."

"And this molestation took place in Fitzhugh's home?"

"It did."

"How did Devin come to be in Fitzhugh's home?"

"He was lured."

"Did Devin tell you how he was lured?"

"It doesn't matter how. He was molested. It was duly reported to the police. The man responsible was not punished."

"The charges were dropped? Why?"

"Because the law protected the predator and not the prey. Your time is up."

"How and when did Devin die?"

Ignoring the question, Dukes started out of the living room toward the front door.

"I can get that information through public records."

"My son killed himself." Dukes stood with his hands fisted at his sides. "Eight months ago. He pumped his body full of garbage until he died. The system failed to protect him. It failed to assist me in protecting him."

"You have another son. How far would you go to protect him?"

"Joseph will not be corrupted by the cancer that eats away at our society."

"Cancer's a kind of virus, isn't it? You can kill a virus with a virus. Infect the host until the bad cells are destroyed. You're a computer scientist, Mr. Dukes. You know about viruses."

She saw it then-the acknowledgment, even a kind of pride that leaped onto his face, then off again. "I said your time is up."

"So's yours, Mr. Dukes," Eve said quietly. "You're going to want to start making arrangements for your wife and son for when you go down with the rest of Purity."

"Get out of my house. I intend to call my lawyer."

"Good idea. You're going to need one."

When they were back in the car, Peabody frowned back at the house. "Why did you tip him?"

"If he wasn't smart enough to figure out I'm looking at him, and he is, whoever he's going to report this visit to would be. I was tipping the wife."

"You don't think she's part of it?"

"He never touched her, barely looked at her. She's standing there with tears running down her face and he doesn't so much as acknowledge her presence. No, this is his deal. What did you see in that house, Peabody?"

"Well, he rules."

"More than that. It's a fucking barracks, and he's the commander. She answers the door before nine in the morning, dolled up like a woman in a screen ad for AutoChefs. Kid's about fourteen, but he bolts back upstairs at the snap of Dukes's finger. I bet all the beds were already made and you could bounce a five-credit coin off every one of them."

Considering, she headed downtown. "How's a former marine who demands everything around him be squared away going to handle having a son who'scorrupting his mind and body with illegals? That was his term, right? Just likeunnatural acts was his term. A chemi-head, homosexual son. Boy, that had to burn his white-bread, homophobic ass."

"Poor kid."

"Yeah, and now his father can use him as a symbol, as an excuse to kill. There are all kinds of cancers," she mumbled. "Dallas," she said when her dash 'link beeped.

"In your vehicle?" Nadine asked. "You may want to pull over somewhere. You're going to want to hear this."

"I can hear and drive at the same time. I'm talented that way."

"I've got another statement from The Purity Seekers. Going to air in fifteen."

"Delay the broadcast. We need to-"

"I can't hold the story for you, Dallas. I won't. I'm giving you a heads up. I'll also air whatever comment you want to make, whatever statement you or NYPSD wants to issue. But this is on in fifteen."

"Damn it." Frustrated, Eve swung toward the curb, cutting off a cab before she shot up a curbside parking ramp to the crowded second level. "Let's have it."

"'Citizens of New York,'" Nadine read in perfect on-air pitch, "'we wish to assure you of your safety and restate to you our promise to seek justice on your behalf. We are committed to our vow to protect the innocent while meting out the due punishment to the guilty that the shackled hands of the law cannot provide.'"

"'We are you: your brothers, your sisters, your parents, your child. We are your family as we are your guardians.'"

"'Like you, we are saddened by the tragic death of a New York Police and Security officer who died two days ago. Detective Kevin Halloway's death during the performance of his duty is yet another example of the blight that plagues our city. We hold Louis K. Cogburn directly responsible for this despicable crime. If not for Louis Cogburn's previous actions, which made necessary the punishment he received, Detective Kevin Halloway would be alive today, doing what he was allowed to do-within the limitations of our current laws-to serve this city.'"

"'We ask you, the citizens of New York, to join us today in a moment of silence for the memory of Detective Halloway. And we offer his family, his friends, his fellow officers our condolences at this grievous time.'"

"'Louis Cogburn has been punished. Justice has been served, and will continue to be served.'"

"'We send out this warning to all who seek to harm our brothers, to all who prey on our children and the innocents, that our hand will be swift, it will be sure. You will no longer find sanctuary behind the law.'"

"'We stand for purity.'"

"'We stand for the people of New York.'"

"Smart," Eve said when Nadine finished.

"Very smart. Make yourself one of the people so it doesn't look too much like Big Brother's watching you. Express regret over the death of a cop and point the finger at someone else. Restate your goals so your message is loud and clear, and leave it ringing in your audience's ears that you stand for the people. It's textbook PR."

"Isn't anyone hearing what I'm hearing?" Eve demanded. "'Don't any of you worry your poor silly heads over any of this. We'll take care of it. We'll decide who's guilty, who's innocent.Who lives, who dies. And if, gee, somebody gets caught in the crossfire, it's not on us.'"

"No, you're not the only one hearing it." Nadine shook her head. "But a lot of people are going to hear just what they want to hear. That's why this is textbook PR, Dallas. It works."

"I'll be damned if they're going to use one of us as a symbol. You want a comment, Nadine, here it is: Lieutenant Eve Dallas, primary investigator on the Purity homicides, states that EDD Detective Kevin Halloway was killed in the line of duty by a terrorist organization calling themselves The Purity Seekers. This organization is suspected of being responsible for the murders of four civilians and a police officer. Lieutenant Dallas further states that she, the members of her investigative team, and every officer, every resource of the New York Police and Security Department will work to uncover, identify, and arrest all members of this terrorist organization so that they may be tried under the codes of this city and if found guilty, be punished to the full extent of the law."

"Got it, got it. Not bad," Nadine said as she turned back from her recorder. "How about a one-on-one followup?"

"No. I'm busy, Nadine. And I have to help bury a cop today."

They memorialized Kevin Halloway in a bereavement facility downtown only blocks from Cop Central. It had often occurred to Eve when she'd had to pay her respects to other fallen cops there, that whoever had started the business had figured the location near a major cop shop would be a plus.

For Halloway, they'd opened the entire first floor, and still the place was packed. Cops always managed to find the time to wake another cop.

She spotted Mayor Peachtree, tucked in among his entourage as he shook hands and looked properly grim, sympathetic, or understanding.

Eve didn't have anything against him personally, and he seemed to be doing the job with a minimum of fuss and self-aggrandizement. He might have been sincere.

He seemed sincere-sincerely pissed, she thought-when his sparkling gaze locked with hers through the crowd.

There was command in the single, sharp gesture that summoned her to him.

"Mayor."

"Lieutenant." He kept his voice low. It could have been mistaken for reverent in such a place, but she heard the annoyance beneath it. "Your record is impressive. Your superiors have complete faith in your abilities. But you're not simply a police official in this matter. You're a public figure. Your statement to Furst at 75 was neither vetted nor authorized."

"My statement was responsive and accurate."

"Accuracy." He seemed to draw himself in. "Accuracy isn't the issue. Perception, image, and message are. Lieutenant, we need to be a unit, a team, during this crisis."

He laid a hand on her arm. There was warmth in the gesture, a land of practiced bonhomie, just as the slight curve of his lips was practiced. "I'm depending on you."

"Yes, sir."

He stepped back, was soon swallowed up by his people, and by others who wanted that brief contact with power and celebrity.

Eve preferred Commander Whitney's quiet presence to Peachtree's shining one. He'd brought his wife, Eve noted. If there was anything Anna Whitney excelled at it was the public and social areas of being a top cop's wife. She wore black, a simple, understated suit, and ranged beside her husband she held a woman's hand in both of hers.

"Halloway's mother." Feeney stepped up to Eve's side. "I've already spoken to her. She asked specifically to meet you."

"Man."

"I know. I hate these things, too. Attractive redhead other side of the chief? Halloway's girl. Name's Lily Doogan. She's pretty ripped up. There are badges here from every borough. That says something."

"Yeah. It says something."

"They got him in the next room. McNab's in there." Feeney let out a long breath. "Got him into a chair. Can't stand easy for long yet. Roarke's in there with him."

"Roarke's here?"

"Yeah." Grief drenched him. "I couldn't stay in there anymore. Just couldn't do it."

"Being here's enough, Feeney."

"Doesn't feel like it. I'll take you over to his mother."

They made their way through the crowd of mourners, through the muted hum of conversation. The air was heavy with the scent of flowers, dim with the quiet light the grieving seemed to prefer.

"Lieutenant."

Eve turned at the hand on her arm and looked into Jenna Franco's eyes. She didn't see grief in them, but she saw plenty of annoyance. She didn't mask it as smoothly as Peachtree.

"Deputy Mayor."

"I need to speak with you. Privately."

"I have something to do first. You'll have to wait."

She tugged her arm free, turned her back. It was petty, she knew. But since she had a damn good idea what the private chat was going to entail, she doubted she and Jenna Franco were going to waste much time on the amenities.

Eve braced herself before approaching Colleen Halloway. She would probably be in her forties, maybe fifties, Eve calculated, but looked younger. Grief had given her skin a kind of translucence that added a youthful fragility against the unrelieved black of her mourning.

"Lieutenant."

It was Anna Whitney who spoke first. Eve had often found herself on the commander's wife's wrong side. But at the moment there was none of the usual hint of impatience or irritation on her face.

And to Eve's surprise, Anna took her hand and squeezed it.

"Mrs. Whitney."

"Detective Halloway's mother has been hoping to speak with you." Her voice was low, her back turned slightly so that the words were for Eve alone. "Do you know the one thing more difficult than being married to a cop, Lieutenant?"

"No. I always figured that was the short straw."

The faintest smile ghosted around Anna's mouth. "There's one shorter yet. That's giving birth to one. Be careful with her."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Colleen?" With a natural gentleness Eve admired, Anna draped an arm over the woman's shoulders. "This is Lieutenant Dallas. Lieutenant, Kevin's mother."

"Mrs. Halloway. I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Lieutenant Dallas." Colleen gripped Eve's hand. It was stronger, firmer than Eve had expected. "Thank you so much for coming. I wonder-there's a small privacy room upstairs. I wonder if you could spare a few minutes? I'd like to speak with you."

"All right."

She led Eve out of the dim parlor, up a set of stairs. Cops had spilled out, crowded there as well. But they stepped aside, eyes lowered respectfully as Colleen passed.

"My husband would like to meet you as well. And Lily. But I asked them if I could have this time alone with you. They understood."

She opened a door, walked into a small sitting room. More flowers, soft fabrics just a little overdone in style, just a little too dark in their wine-red tones.

"These places are so horribly depressing, aren't they? I wonder why they don't let in the light." Colleen walked to the window, threw open the heavy drapes, and let in the sun. "I suppose a lot of people find comfort in the shadows."

"Do you?" she asked Eve, then shook her head. "My thoughts are rambling. Please, sit down."

Colleen took a chair, sat with her back very straight. "I've seen you on-screen. You always seem so competent, even when it's coverage of one of those social functions you attend with your husband. He's terribly handsome, isn't he?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"It was kind of him to come as well. To make the time, to speak to me, my husband, Lily. Very kind. Kevin spoke of you occasionally. You never worked with him, though, did you?"

"Not directly, no. But I often depend on EDD in my work. Hall… Kevin was a valued member of the department."

"He admired you. I wanted to tell you," she added, smiling a little at the blank look on Eve's face. "He sometimes spoke of you working with Captain Feeney and the other young detective, Ian McNab. He was, I think, a little envious of your relationship with both Ian and the captain."

"Mrs. Halloway-"

"I only tell you that so you might understand why he might have said or done the things he said or did when he was in such terrible trouble."

"Mrs. Halloway, I don't need an explanation. Kevin was ill, very ill, and none of what happened after they infected him was any fault of his."

"It's good to hear you say that. I heard the statements this morning. Both of them. I wasn't sure if yours was just the departmental line, or if you meant it."

"I did mean it. Every word of it."

Colleen nodded. Her lips trembled once, then firmed. "I know what you did to try to save Kevin. I know you risked your own life to do so. And I know," she continued as Eve started to speak, "that you'll say you were doing your job. That's what all of you say. But I want to thank you first as a mother, just as a mother."

Her eyes swam and though she blinked to fight the tears, one spilled out and trailed down her cheek. "And I want to thank you for Kevin. Please… let me finish."

Still she had to stop for a moment, clear her throat. "My son was proud to be a police officer. He believed in what that stood for, respected it, and gave his best. They might have taken that from him as well as his life if not for you. If not for you, his captain, his commander, his fellow officers… that pride and respect might have been taken from him. Instead…"

She reached into a small black purse and took out her son's badge. "Instead, there's honor. I'll never forget it." She leaned forward now, her expression intense. "Stop them. You will stop them."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll stop them."

With a nod, Colleen leaned back again. "I've kept you long enough. I'm sure you have a great deal of work. I think I'd like to sit here in the light, for a little while."

Eve rose and went to the door. Then she turned and said what was on her mind. "Mrs. Halloway? He must have been awfully proud of you, too."

Again those lips curved, just a little. Again a single tear spilled down her cheek.

Eve slipped out and closed the door.

She was nearly to the stairs when Franco swooped up. Chang scurried in her wake like a pet dog. "We'll talk now."

When she headed for the privacy room, Eve caught her arm. "Mrs. Halloway's in there."

The impatience on Franco's face faded. Her one last glance at the door was full of sympathy. Then that faded as well as she strode down the hallway, pushed her way into another room.

It was some sort of office, manned at the moment by a young woman at a gleaming wooden breakfront that had been modeled into a workstation.

"I need this space," Franco snapped. "You'll have to leave."

Eve lifted her brows as the girl scrambled out. Franco was a woman who went where she wanted when she wanted. Eve admired the trait.

When Chang closed the door behind them, Franco launched into the attack. "You were instructed to use the official statement when responding to the media. We can't waste time and resources running along behind you and clearing up the mess."

"Then you'd better try to keep up. I got a heads up minutes before the latest statement from Purity was to be aired. I responded to said statement as I deemed appropriate."

"It's not your place to deem what is an appropriate response to the media." This came from Chang, in clipped tones. "It's my job to tell you what's appropriate in this area."

"The last time I looked I don't answer to you, and should that day ever come, I'll retire."

"Chief Tibble ordered you to cooperate," he reminded her. "Yet you refuse to accept the bookings that were arranged for maximum spin and effect. And now you issue your own statement without clearance. A statement that speaks not just for you, Lieutenant, but for the department. This is not acceptable."

"If the chief or my commander determines I've done or said the unacceptable, then they can dress me down, Chang. You can't."

She took a step toward him, was darkly pleased to see him take one back. "Don't ever try to tell me how to do my job."

"You've never had any respect for me or my position."

Eve angled her head. "And your point is?"

"We'll see what Chief Tibble has to say about this."

"Run along and tattle, you little weasel. And let the grown-ups finish talking." She turned back to Franco, who'd said nothing during the exchange. "You got something else to say to me?"

"Yes, actually. Why don't you give us a minute here, Chang? We'll discuss the rest of this in my office in…" She checked the time. "Thirty minutes."

He went out, giving the door a sulky little slam.

"Do you try to irritate people, Dallas, or is it just an innate skill?"

"I guess it's the second, because it comes real easy. Especially with pissants like Chang."

"If I tell you I agree that Chang is an annoying, self-satisfied, and boring pissant-a statement I will vehemently deny making if repeated-can we table some of the hostility?"

"Why do you use him then?"

"Because he's good. He's very, very good. If I had to like everyone I worked with or who worked for me, I sure as hell wouldn't be in politics. Now, issue one, your statement this morning. Chang feels, and I agree-as does the mayor-that your use of Detective Halloway's death was ill advised."

"My use? Just one damn minute.They used him, shirking responsibility for his death. I responded and stuck the responsibility right back up their ass."

"And I understand the instinct that prompted you to do so. For God's sake, Dallas, do you think I function without a heartbeat? I don't. And that heart breaks for that woman down the hall. Damn it. She's lost her son. I have a son. He's ten. I can't imagine having to say good-bye to him the way Colleen Halloway is saying good-bye today."

"It seems to me it would be harder if people were allowed to think her son died for nothing."

"Didn't he?" Franco retorted, then shook her head. "Oh, I know how you cops think. On the job. I won't argue with you because I don't understand that either. But the point is that the more often his name is said, the more he's made the story, the harder it is to focus the media and the public on the message we want to send. Whatever you might think," she added as she turned back.

"I know more about this than you and Chang know.The second point is no statement should have been made without clearance."

"You won't box me in that way. I'm no media hound, but if and when I feel using it helps my investigation, I'll use it."

"Yet you toss back the bookings Chang arranged, programming where we'd have some control."

"I'm not sitting in some studio parroting departmental or mayoral approved responses and statements when my time and energies are required in a priority investigation. The fact is, I'm never doing it."

"Yes, so your commander has made clear."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Had to take a shot." Franco spread her hands. "We could use the airtime. The other matter I have to discuss with you is, potentially, a great deal more serious. It's already come to the mayor's ear that you questioned the Dukes this morning in the course of your investigation. A family who also lost their son recently, and who are protected by sealed files."

"He didn't waste any time. The information on the Dukes came into my hands. The connection to two of the victims, as well as Donald Dukes's profession, led me to believe an informal interview was warranted. Are you going to try to tell me how to do my job now?"

"Oh for Christ's sake." Franco threw up her hands. "Why do you insist on behaving as if we're on opposite sides."

"It feels that way."

"Do you know what will happen if Donald Dukes goes to the media? If he talks about being harassed in his own home by the primary in this already hot-button situation? Their son was hooked on illegals by Cogburn-"

"There's no evidence to support Cogburn was his first dealer."

"It doesn'tmatter if there's evidence," Franco fired back. "This is what would be said. Cogburn hooked an innocent, vulnerable twelve-year-old boy, from a good, solid, churchgoing family. The police failed to make a case. Later, this boy-now troubled, now recalcitrant due to his addiction- falls into the hands of a pedophile. Chadwick Fitzhugh beats and rapes young Devin, now a tender fourteen. The family is shattered, the boy is traumatized, andagain the police fail to make a case."

"That's not the way it happened."

"That's the way it'll be presented, reported, discussed should they go public. Truth, pieces of the truth, outright lies, it doesn't matter once it's on the air. A picture will be painted, then you'll walk into it, questioning this damaged, grieving family who tried to do the right thing, who put their faith and their son's welfare into the hands of the system only to be failed in the most horrible way. You attempt to implicate them in a homicide investigation. You accuse them of being members of a group you've publicly called terrorists. And you do this in their home. Don't you see how this will play?"

"I'll tell you how it plays, Franco. Donald Dukes couldn't or wouldn't accept his son's sexual orientation-"

"Oh my God, oh my God." Franco pressed her fingers to her temples, seemed to try to drill them through. "You start saying that child was gay, you'll be in a lawsuit, and so will the department, probably the city before I can push you out of the nearest twenty-story window."

"Not if I push you first. In any case, evidence indicates he was gay, or certainly confused about his own sexuality. He never got the chance to make up his mind. His father is rigid, domineering. The kind of guy who's just not going to be wrong. He destroys evidence that may have helped make the case against Cogburn, but it's the system's fault. He edits and changes the facts in the Fitzhugh matter so the case falls apart, and again, it's the system's fault. Now he's found an outlet for his aggressions and his viewpoint: Purity."

"You have proof of all this?"

"Of some. I'll get the rest."

"Dallas, if I'm having a hard time believing any of this, no one else will believe it. In addition, you're speaking of facts and suppositions that were in a sealed. An official and public reprimand from your commander may not be enough to stop legal action, or the media storm."

"If and when my commander deems it necessary to reprimand me, that's his right and that's my problem. The media storm's yours and Chang's. Dukes can start all the legal actions he wants. They're not going to go anywhere once I put him in a cage. Are we done here?"

"You'd better be very sure of yourself," Franco warned.

"I'm sure of the job, and that's the same thing."

Eve walked out. As she started back downstairs, she heard the clear, strong voice of a tenor singing the opening bars ofDanny Boy.

Cops were always singingDanny Boy at funerals, she thought. She'd never known just why.

"Lieutenant." Roarke met her at the base of the stairs.

"I need some air," was all she said, and strode out the door.