Move to Strike (32 page)

‘Well, I was planning to catch that
Columbo
rerun on A&E.'

‘I'll pick you up in ten then.'

‘And I'll grab my raincoat.'

‘It's not raining, McKay.'

‘True, but it worked for Columbo.'

‘Ladies and gentlemen,' said Caroline Croft after the opening credits had rolled and a voiceover announced this presentation as a special, exclusive, two-hour
Newsline
‘event' live from CBC's studios in Boston.

Katherine de Castro had made a mistake. In her dogged determination
to win at least one victory over the dictatorial Caroline Croft, she had demanded that they introduce a studio audience into the mix –
‘so that Doctor Jeff's loyal followers would see the broadcast as an open, honest presentation as was every production of his show'
.

But now, as the excited spectators sat on the edge of their seats like a pack of predatory animals – animals who were squashed in edgewise, thanks to CBC running promos throughout the day saying a ‘special live broadcast' needed a live studio audience that night – she realised that she had allowed her bruised ego to get the better of her. She had a bad feeling about this – and was praying that, for once, her instincts would be proven wrong.

‘We wish to welcome you tonight to a very special television event,' Croft began. ‘There is no doubt each and every one of you has seen the recent headlines, read the latest internet blog, heard the TV and radio news and basically been bombarded with a great deal of conjecture and speculation regarding the events surrounding the death of Stephanie Tyler – the local Boston attorney who was killed in her Beacon Hill kitchen exactly one week ago tonight.'

Pause.

‘You are also no doubt aware that her husband, Doctor Jeffrey Logan, the respected television clinical psychologist who has dedicated his life to advising others on how to achieve healthy, respectful and loving relationships, originally confessed to accidentally shooting his wife in order to protect his fourteen-year-old son, J.T. Logan, who was eventually charged with his mother's murder.

‘What you do not know,' said Croft then, tilting her head just a little to the left, ‘what you have not been told, what has not been
revealed
until tonight are the facts behind this killing – the reason young J.T., at only fourteen, is about to face an adult jury in an adult court where, if found guilty, he will face the ultimate sentence of life without parole.'

Small shake of her head.

‘The Logans are a private family in the public arena. Both J.T. and his older sister, Chelsea, have been largely protected from the limelight by their father – and their mother who, fiercely private herself, chose never to become involved in her husband's popular television career.

‘But while Jeffrey Logan encouraged his children's anonymity in order
to assure them a stable upbringing, his wife saw her role as “protector” in a completely different light. A light that we can finally reveal, involved the constant, incessant, daily ritual of unfathomable emotional abuse. An abuse we will explore in full detail as I am joined by Doctor Logan and others involved with the case.'

Others?
thought de Castro.
Others involved in the case? Croft must be referring to Professor Georgia Hinds
, she reassured herself, thinking about the emotional abuse expert she had organised for tonight's broadcast. Georgia Hinds was a Harvard-educated behavioural psychologist who had a PhD in emotional abuse and what she called ‘relationship extortion' – an attractive and intelligent-looking strawberry blonde with a calm and studious demeanour.

‘But before we go on,' said Croft, tossing her shoulder-length blonde hair over her left shoulder so that she might twist slightly in her cream armchair to face the special ‘guest' beside her, ‘I would like to thank Doctor Jeff for inviting me to his television home this evening – a place where he has welcomed thousands before me in the spirit of consideration and hospitality. I would like to assure him that I understand the difficult circumstances under which he has agreed to speak with me here tonight and thank him for his bravery in coming forward.

‘Doctor,' she said.

Logan nodded . . . and the entire audience was unable to hold back. It was the first time their dear Doctor Jeff had faced them since the tragedy, and their sympathy flowed in torrents. The applause was deafening as the spectators rose to their feet, prompting Katherine to take a breath.
They love him
, she told herself.
Perhaps everything is going to be all right, after all
.

‘I would also like to introduce the special guest sitting next to Doctor Jeff, emotional abuse expert Professor Georgia Hinds from Harvard University,' she said, tilting her head back towards camera one to gesture at the conservatively dressed woman sitting adjacent to Logan on one of two ‘lesser' chairs.

And then she rattled off Hinds' impressive credentials, spoke a little further about the nature of the interview to follow, and assured her audiences that this event was unrehearsed (a lie, considering Jeffrey had seen most of her questions in advance), unscripted (a half truth, given Jeffrey
had discussed some of his prospective responses with Croft so that she might ‘
bounce off the genuineness of his distress
'), and guaranteed to move and shock the millions of viewers watching this exclusive exposé tonight (and that one, Katherine knew, was right on the money).

Croft threw to the first three-and-a-half minute ad break, giving all a chance to take a breath – and Logan the opportunity to stand and strut around his own familiar set like a Goddamned peacock. And in that moment Katherine felt a distinct wave of nausea rise in her throat – at the sight of her partner's confidence, at his ease with the whole fucking mess. And then, as if Croft had been reading her thoughts, Katherine saw her glance towards the posturing Logan before shifting her eyes to meet Katherine's straight on, and then, of all things, offering her a smile.

‘Shit,' said Joe as his cell phone rang in his hand – he had just fished it from his left-hand shirt pocket so that he might call David and expand their little gate-crashing party to three.

‘This is Mannix,' he said then, manoeuvring the phone to his ear as his foot hit the brake for the umpteenth time – he and Frank were on Huntington, travelling east, the traffic leading up to the popular Copley Square now in a Friday night gridlock.

‘Chief,' said the familiar voice of FBI Agent Susan Leigh. Susan was Frank's old partner – an over-enthusiastic workaholic who traded her Boston PD shield for its FBI equivalent a little over a year ago.

‘Susan,' he said. ‘How's it going?'

‘Pretty good. I put in my form for Boston today,' she said, referring to what Joe knew was her application to be transferred to the FBI's Boston Field Office – an office run by their mutual friend, Special Agent in Charge Leo ‘Simba' King.

‘They getting sick of you down there in Virginia, Leigh?'

Susan laughed. ‘Well, my supervising agent says he came down with a bad case of gluteus painous maximus the day that I arrived in Quantico.'

‘I'd be disappointed in you if you weren't being a pain in somebody's ass, Leigh . . . but listen, I hate to be rude, but me and Frank got something going on here.'

‘Okay sure, so I'll be quick.'

Susan went on to explain that SAIC King had been trying to reach Joe
all afternoon, but that Joe had failed to return his calls. And this was true, Joe had got a message that King had called late, but once again Joe had simply run out of time to call him back. The two were friends, so Joe assumed it was more of a social call than anything else, and he figured he would ring him back on Monday and set up a time for them to catch up.

‘Anyway,' Susan continued, ‘since SAIC King had some bureau dinner to attend, I told him I would keep trying to reach you so that I could confirm the results on the voice mail and email analysis. As far as the voice comparison thing goes, the gang from Forensic Audio, Video and Image got you a one hundred per cent match – and our Computer Analysis and Response Team confirmed the exact laptop the emails came from, along with the username and password used to log in mere moments before the emails were sent. And those two bits of information put together well . . . let's just say, as sad as it is, everything falls into place.'

Joe shifted in his seat. He had just hit another red light on Boylston, he had no idea what the hell Leigh was talking about, and something about this whole night was starting to piss him off.

‘Susan,' he began, ‘I don't know anything about any voice mail or computer analysis.'

Susan paused on the other end of the line. ‘But it came from the DA's Office,' she said after a beat. ‘And I assumed, given you and McKay are working the Logan case that . . .'

‘Jesus,' said Joe. ‘Listen to me Susan, Carmichael's playing “cut the cop out of the picture”. If someone gave her a recording of a voice mail, we know nothing about it. She must have got Simba to send an ERT to the house,' he said, referring to the FBI's Evidence Response Teams, ‘. . . and confiscate the computer so that it would be sent straight through to you guys in Quantico.'

‘What a bitch,' said Susan, never one to hold back when it came to sharing her opinion of others. ‘What's up her ass then, Chief?'

‘We're not sure, but we're on our way to find out if that's any consolation.'

‘Well, she already has this info. SAIC King would have called it through to her sometime today. But if it makes any difference I can give you a jump on what she's up to by reading you the conclusions on the two reports.'

Despite his predicament, Joe could not help but smile. ‘Fire away, Leigh,'
he said. ‘And I'll put you on speaker so that Frank can hear you too,' he added, pressing the speaker button on his cell.

‘What's up, McKay?' she said. ‘You still as crazy as all hell?'

‘He's wearing a raincoat so he looks like Columbo,' said Joe.

‘And you two might want to can it so you can fill me in,' returned a grinning McKay.

‘Okay,' said Susan. ‘And you better listen up, because if this stuff means what I think it does, this new evidence is gonna blow this case sky high.'

‘Joe,' said David, staring at Sara from across the candle-lit dinner table. As soon as his cell rang he had intended to turn it off, but then he saw Joe's number shining back at him on the miniature blue screen and Sara urged him to pick it up. ‘This better be good because I'm at L'Espalier having dinner with Sara.'

He had been feeling like a heel for days for allowing Jeffrey Logan to get under his skin – and worse still, for taking it out on Sara. In the end it was Nora who had set him straight – his serious-faced secretary waiting until Sara had gone out for coffees late that afternoon before bounding into his office and delivering him a good ten minutes of her acerbic Irish disapproval.

And she had been right; he'd been acting like an ass, which is why he'd made a reservation at one of the best restaurants in the city so that he might apologise and explain to Sara exactly why he'd been acting the way he had.

‘Well, I hope you've made it past your entrées because I need you at CBC studios in ten.'

‘What? Why?' asked David as Sara mouthed ‘
What's happening?
' from across the table.

Joe filled him in – told him everything he knew about O'Donnell and Carmichael and Susan Leigh's extraordinary analysis report, before backtracking to Starkey's tip-off about Logan and his slickly dressed lawyer friend.

‘Jesus, Joe, what is going on here?'

‘I have no idea. There is a lot of shit to sift through, David. But as for our immediate priority, Frank thinks Logan and Carmichael are planning something on air – either separately or together.'

‘Caroline Croft has been after him,' said David – and he could almost hear Joe ticking this over.

‘Which makes me all the more nervous,' said Joe. ‘Especially since you're the kid's lawyer and Logan failed to give you a heads up. The guy is playing with us, David.'

‘I know,' said David, relieved that Joe had a similar take on the situation. ‘That is what I have been trying to tell you, Joe. I don't care what your gun nut from Maine told you, or what the mysterious Jason Nagle told Rigotti. I just know . . . in my
gut
. . . that this whole thing leads back to Jeffrey Logan, and that we just haven't been able to work it out – at least, not yet.'

‘Take Sara home and get her to turn on the TV,' Joe said after a few moments. ‘If Frank's instincts are right, and if Carmichael is playing true to form, this thing is probably going to go live.'

‘And if Croft is involved they could already be on air. It's just gone nine, Joe – which means
Newsline
has already started.'

Joe was silent again.

‘We're moving,' said David as he met Sara's eye and she nodded, collecting her handbag and raising her hand at a passing waiter for the check. ‘I can be at the studio in fifteen. Just promise me one thing.'

‘What's that?'

‘That you let me have a go at him.'

‘Can't do that, David.'

‘And why the hell not?'

‘Because I plan to get to him first.'

‘Abuse is any behaviour that is designed to control and subjugate another human being through the use of fear, humiliation, intimidation, guilt, coercion, manipulation and so forth,' said Professor Hinds, her expression calm but serious. ‘And emotional abuse is any kind of abuse that is emotional rather than physical in nature. It can include anything from verbal abuse and constant criticism to more subtle tactics, such as repeated disapproval or even the refusal to ever be pleased.'

Croft nodded, urging the professor to go on.