Part 19 (1/2)
”That's one theory,” Waxman said, addressing Pillman. His pale brows had drawn together, his mouth tight. ”It's good for us to be prepared for what the defense will raise, so I agree we have to thoroughly investigate this situation. However, I want everyone to know that I've never seen Agent Texeira act with anything but sincerity. Impulsiveness, yes, sometimes not the best judgment-but murder? I think not.”
”We're leaving,” Takayama said. ”Any further interviews will be accompanied by legal counsel.” He tugged Lei's arm and pulled her out the door.
She couldn't believe that things had taken such a turn for the worse, that even what her partner had done to protect her was being questioned. Even so, it warmed her to hear Waxman come to her defense.
Stevens stood up from the chair in the hall, took one look at her face and folded her into his arms. ”That bad?” he said into her hair.
”Worse,” Lei whispered hoa.r.s.ely. ”Pillman thinks I murdered Healani Chang.”
She felt the outrage shoot through his body in the sudden clenching of his muscles, in the sharp intake of breath, in the way he straightened up, reaching for the door. This time, she clung to him, holding him back. Takayama harrumphed, reminding them of his presence.
”Better to let the investigation take its course,” he said. ”These things are unpleasant, but my sense is that the evidence will support Agent Texeira or be inconclusive. Just sit tight, and you can retain legal counsel as a preventive measure. Here are some of the lawyers we've used successfully in the past.” He handed Lei a slip of paper with names and numbers on it. ”Absolutely no further meetings with your administration without me present.”
On that note, Waxman came to the door, stepped out, and closed it behind him. ”Texeira.”
Lei wanted to hide her face in Stevens's rigid chest, but she made herself turn to face her boss.
”I'm required to take your ID and sidearm for the duration of the investigation. You are off the case and are not to discuss it with your coworkers.”
”Yes, sir. Ken already has my weapons.” She handed her cred wallet to him. Behind her, she felt Stevens radiating leashed heat against her back. It was the only good thing in the world.
”I want you to know, I don't believe this trumped-up bulls.h.i.+t for a minute.” Waxman had hectic red spots on his cheeks ”Hang tight. This will blow over.”
”Yes, sir,” Lei whispered.
Stevens clamped his arm over her. ”I'm taking her home. Don't contact us without Mr. Takayama present.”
Chapter 31.
The next day, Sophie and Ken ushered Robert Castellejos into Conference Room A. The bald-headed cancer patient, looking tanned and relaxed, smiled as he sat on the love seat facing them. He'd carried in a leather folio slung over his shoulder; the metal detectors had let it through but Sophie tensed as he reached inside. He only produced a couple of jars of clear golden honey, which he set on the coffee table before them.
”Brought you something to sweeten your day.”
”Thank you. We are not allowed to accept gifts, however,” Ken said. ”This is a formal interview that is being recorded, to question your involvement with the DyingFriends site.” Ken recited the date, time, and attendees for the record. Sophie was conscious of Waxman's watchful presence in the booth next door, but her earbud stayed silent.
”Yes. I'd like to make a full confession.” Castellejos wore tidy chinos and a brown T-s.h.i.+rt with a honeybee on the front. ”Bennie Fernandez, my dear protegee Terence Chang's lawyer, contacted me yesterday that Terence had been arrested in connection to deaths related to the site, and I'd like to set the record straight.”
Whatever Sophie had been expecting from the beekeeper, it wasn't this. They'd been stonewalled in attempts to interview Chang further until Bennie Fernandez had called them with the unexpected news that Chang wanted to cop a plea in return for information on KevorkianFan, the ”mastermind of the site.” He'd implicated Castellejos.
”DyingFriends is my project. I recruited Terence to provide the technical skills to run the site-the boy's good with computers and believes in the cause. At no time did he ever partic.i.p.ate or a.s.sist at any suicides. If you check his alibis for the dates of suicides in the photo galleries, you will see that they hold up. I, however, have been quite the traveling man.”
Castellejos reached into his folio and produced a handwritten log along with a stack of Visa bills. ”I've traveled all over the United States fulfilling the last wishes of DyingFriends members. This log contains their names and times and dates of death. These Visa bills doc.u.ment the tickets they gifted me with and my travel to meet them. I've personally witnessed the last moments of more than three hundred people who have chosen to exercise their freedom to die with dignity.”
Sophie felt her face freezing into a mask of immobile horror. She'd spent hours poring over those photos, seeing everything from jumping to hanging to overdoses, and the thin, tanned, smiling face before her, sitting in his honeybee T-s.h.i.+rt, just wouldn't compute as their executioner.
Ken cleared his throat. He reached over and pulled the log and Visa bill close. ”Robert Castellejos, you have voluntarily submitted records doc.u.menting your involvement with these deaths. You are under arrest for the a.s.sisted suicide deaths of these voluntarily submitted names.” He recited the Miranda warning.
Castellejos waved a hand. ”I waive my right to counsel. I have no need for such things. I've made my peace with spending my last days in prison for a cause I'm dying for anyway. I won't allow Terence Chang to be charged with *crimes' I've committed.” He made air quotes as he said ”crimes.”
”All right. I'd like that in writing, if you don't mind.” Ken pushed a legal pad over to him, and the man picked up the pad and wrote, reading aloud as he did so. ”I waive my right to counsel and make a full confession of my a.s.sistance in the suicide deaths related to the site DyingFriends.”
Sophie forced her paralyzed throat to form some words. ”So you are KevorkianFan.”
”And you are the lovely and deceitful ShastaM.” Castellejos's warm brown eyes shone with the light of fanaticism as they rested on hers, casting a hypnotic spell. ”I detected your phis.h.i.+ng, but not until poor Terence had already bought your bogus suicide note. Very authentic, my dear. May I suppose you've had your own thoughts of suicide? It really is a viable option and part of your right to life, liberty, and happiness as guaranteed by the Const.i.tution.”
Sophie's mouth opened and shut. Waxman's voice crackled in their ears. ”Don't listen to this man's poison; we are not providing him a stage for his rhetoric. Focus on the logs and victims; get a confession of each name while he's willing to talk.”
Ken opened the log. ”Let's begin with our most recent murder victim, Betsy Brown, and work our way back, shall we?”
”Ah, Betsy. Lovely young woman. Didn't she look beautiful in her special gown?” Castellejos went on to describe helping Betsy prepare with her gown and makeup, bringing her the water and the medication, sitting with her until her heart stopped. ”It's my honor to help people who have chosen to leave this world do so on their own terms.”
”Betsy wasn't dying. She had Guillain-Barre syndrome, a rare viral infection that she would have recovered from.” Sophie found her voice again, and it vibrated with outrage.
”Yes, Terence's lawyer informed me of that. What you need to understand is that the right to death is a basic human right, just as is the right to life. Perhaps Betsy wouldn't have chosen this path if she had known that; perhaps she would have. It doesn't change the fact that she had a right to choose when her life ended. I don't concern myself with verifying details of diagnoses. Human rights are what's important.”
Sophie felt her hands ball into fists, her arms tightening. She'd never wanted to punch someone in the mouth more than she did at that moment. Ken put a hand on her arm. ”Let's move on to Corby Alexander Hale. What was your involvement with his death?”
”I doctored the boy's drink. He was a little ambivalent about his commitment to suicide; he told me that. I gave him a little relaxation drink when I met him at a gay bar the night I picked to help him fulfill his commitment. He'd chosen a pain-free way to go-I imagine it was actually quite pleasant.” Castellejos smiled. ”I imagine, after the grief pa.s.ses, the senator and his wife will actually get a lot of political mileage out of this with the sympathy vote.”
Sophie stood and paced behind the chairs, needing to discharge her rage and not sure she could keep from attacking the man. She thought of Lei in that moment, the other agent's physicality and emotional volatility. She'd never really understood it-until now.
Castellejos worked imperturbably back through the log with them recording every word-nailing his own coffin shut tighter with each disclosure and unfazed by that fact. In the end, they were hearing the confession of a dying man with nothing much to lose.
Sophie took pleasure in erasing every virtual trace of DyingFriends from the Internet late that night-but she didn't know how she'd ever erase the memory of Castellejos's smiling death's head face from her dreams.
Lei carried Angel into the community room at the Youth Correctional Facility. This wasn't her usual scheduled visit, but after Stevens had left and she'd spent another day in bed, she realized that seeing her young friend was the only thing she could think of that might cheer her up.
They'd let Consuelo meet her in the rec room alone, and as usual, the Chihuahua went into rapture upon seeing the girl. Lei smiled, watching them play, and finally Consuelo sat on the couch holding the dog and gestured. ”Lei, come sit. What happened to your face?”
”Injured on the job. I have some free time. Thought I'd come see my favorite juvenile delinquent.”
”Well, I have some news too. I'm getting out early. They need my bed, apparently, so I'm being furloughed to a work-study program.” Consuelo's pretty face was animated and she jumped a bit on the couch so that her glossy black hair bounced. ”I'm getting a job. They're already looking at some maintenance programs where I could work. I even get to go to cla.s.ses at East Oahu Community College, and I come back to the group home in the evenings.”
”So good, that news!” Having Bennie Fernandez on a case was great when the defendant was someone you cared about. ”When does this start?”
”Next week. They said I could have Angel there at the group home. She could be a therapy dog for all six kids who live at the house.”
”Nice.” Lei felt a pang as she looked at the Chihuahua. Angel had really worked her way into Lei's life even though she'd always known the arrangement was temporary. As if sensing this, Angel hopped over and licked her hand. She petted the dog's sleek head. ”I'm so happy for you. Well, it comes at a great time for both of us. I have an opportunity I'm considering.” She told Consuelo about the offer from Captain Omura on Maui. ”Without the FBI, I never would have met you. Thinking about leaving feels like giving up, like I couldn't cut it.” Lei found herself touching the metal disc at her throat.
”Don't you think there will be other people you will help through the police department? I mean, some of the stories you told me were awesome.” Consuelo smiled.
”I know. It's just a tough choice.”