"Riccardo Martino."
"Who?" Max smiled.
"The patient who was murdered in the clinic."
"I don't know the name of any patients. Harv must have told you that."
"Riccardo Martino was mentioned in the story on Newsflash a few nights back."
"I don't recall the name," Winston said with a dismissing wave of his hand.
"And anyway, you got nothing on me."
Max leaned forward. O'Connor's expression was relaxed, but Max had seen the familiar scared shadow cross his face briefly.
"Sure about that, Winston?"
"Whadda ya mean?"
"We have a witness who will swear under oath you were in the hospital at the time of Martino's death, even though you claimed to be home."
"Get lost."
"The same witness saw you hit Dr. Riker over the head. We also know you were in the lab breaking into Dr. Riker's files."
"You're bluffing," he said.
True, Max thought, but now he noticed that O'Connor's voice was not as confident as it had been. Max decided to give him another little push.
"And one other thing." Max turned his head so that his back was to Winston.
"Drop the southern drawl. It's insulting."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Max turned around, his eyes toward the floor, pencil between his teeth.
Something close to a smile passed his lips.
"No one who has lived in New York for the past twenty years has a southern accent that thick. You sound like somebody on Heehaw."
Again, silence.
"We know you work for the NIH," Max continued.
"We assume you're CIA-trained. And we know what you've been up to."
"You don't know shit." The southern accent was weaker now, less pronounced. Winston's Adam's apple bopped up and down continuously as he swallowed.
Max took the pencil out of his mouth and examined it.
"I know I have the authority to drag your ass down to headquarters, book you for murder, and seal you in a cage. If you think your CIA or your NIH buddies are going to rescue you, you are very much mistaken. This case is too hot. They'll let you rot before admitting you're one of them."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Winston said, but there was now a clear waver in his voice.
"Then just humor me by listening to your other option," Max continued.
"You might find it interesting." "I told you I don't know "
"Option 2: you can tell me what you know," Max interrupted.
"In return, I will promise to keep our conversation confidential it'll just be between you and me. Washington will never know anything about it. Think about it. The choice is yours." There was a stony silence which Max by taking out his handcuffs and a plastic card from which he read: "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you "
"Hold on a minute."
Max looked up from his card.
"Something you wanted to say?"
Winston rubbed his face.
"How do I know I can trust you?"
"You don't. But if you don't cooperate, I'll pin Martino's murder on you. That's a promise."
For a brief moment Max and Winston locked eyes. It was Winston who looked away.
"What do you want to know?"
"Who are you working for?"
"All confidential, right?"
"Right. Who are you working for?"
Winston took a deep breath and released it.
"I don't know.
I'm a CIA operative, but I report to the Department of Health and Human Services."
"To whom?"
Winston shook his head.
"No names."
"Raymond Markey?" "I said, no names."
"What is your function?"
"Gathering information on the clinic."
"What kind of information?"
"Any and all."
"And how do you go about it?"
"What do you mean?"
"How do you gather your information?"
Winston shrugged.
"Simple. I snoop around. I break into the confidential files.
Whatever it takes."
"Is that what you were doing the night Harvey stumbled across you?" Winston paused. He took a cigarette out of his pocket and put it in his mouth.
"You gotta light?"
Max shook his head.
"I don't smoke. It's bad for you."
"Yeah, sure, and chewing pencils is healthy, right?"
"Were you in the clinic the night Martino was killed?"
"I'd rather not answer that."
"Then I'll take that as a yes."
Winston O'Connor found a set of matches near a Bunsen burner. He lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply, as though the cigarette were an oxygen mask and he was caught in a fire.
"Take it anyway you want, Lieutenant. But I did not kill anyone."
"Why did the NIH want all of this information?"
"I don't like to theorize, Lieutenant."
"Try."
Another deep puff.
"I assumed that the NIH wanted to check up on the clinic's progress independently. They got a big investment here, and Harv and Bruce can be pretty damn secretive." Max thought for a moment.
"Okay, tell me this: why did you report to Washington in person three days ago?"
"My contact was worried."
"About what?"
"He didn't like the positive media reports about the clinic."
"Why not?"
Winston shrugged.
"He wanted to know what Harvey was up to what he was going to do next."
"What did you tell him?"
"The truth. I can break into files and I can snoop around, but I cannot read another man's mind. I told them I had no idea."
"What has the NIH said to you about Michael Silverman's kidnapping?"
"Not a thing. I haven't spoken to them since the day I flew into Washington."
"Has your contact ever mentioned the Gay Slasher?"
"Never."
"Do you think your employers are behind it?"
Winston smiled, the cigarette dangling from his lip.
"How fuckin' crazy do you think I am, Lieutenant?"
Shrug.
"How often did you break into the clinic's confidential files?"
"About once a week, I guess."
"During the daytime or the night?"
"Night usually. When I thought no one would be around."
Max nodded, pacing.
"Except you didn't know Michael was on the third floor, did you, Winston?"
"Huh?"
Max walked toward him.
"A few hours before Martino was murdered, a new patient had been secretly whisked into the room down the hall Michael Silverman.
Naturally, you wanted to find out who he was. So you broke into Harvey's private files that night."
"Now hold on a minute." "But you screwed up," Max continued.
"Dr. Riker was on the floor at the time. He heard you in the lab. So you knocked Harvey out."
"Slow down a second."
"Then you went downstairs, killed Martino "
"I didn't kill anybody!" he interrupted.
"Okay, I admit it. I was in the lab that night. I broke into the file cabinet and saw Silverman's name. I knew the NIH boys would be interested in him so I tried to find out more. That's when Harv interrupted me.
I guess I panicked a little. My instructions were not to get caught under any circumstances. So when Harv came in the lab, I hit him in the back of the neck. But I didn't kill Martino, I swear it."
"You're a martial arts expert." It was more of a statement than a question.
"Yeah, so?"
"And the blow to Sara's neck was delivered by a martial arts expert."
"Whoa, back up a second, Lieutenant. I didn't touch Sara Lowell. For that matter, I never touched her husband or Janice or that Martino guy.
Christ, I felt awful when I heard about Janice.
She was a fine woman." Winston lowered his head into his hands.
"I never hurt anybody, I swear. I was just trying to gather information for a branch of the government that has every right to know what was going on in here. There is nothing illegal in that."
"What else do you know?"
"Nothing. I swear."
Max stopped his pacing and restarted his nodding. "You better not be holding out on me. Or else."
He had tried to sound tough, but it came out too whiny.