“42nd.”
“Do you want immediate extraction?”
Cynthia looked toward O’Grady.
He was ten feet away leaning against the wall, amused.
“No.”
Carter understood her tone.
“What do you want?”
“Secure the Taurus.”
“Quietly.”
“The vehicle’s surveillance package captured the stop.”
“Preserve the remote feed before anyone at impound accesses the car.”
“Understood.”
“I also want appropriate federal counsel and public-corruption personnel notified.”
“How wide?”
“Discreet until we know more.”
Carter paused.
“You’re staying inside?”
“For now.”
“Cynthia.”
His use of her first name mattered.
“I’m safe.”
“He tried to manufacture a felony against someone he believed had no power.”
“I want to know whether this precinct notices anything wrong before we tell them who I am.”
Carter exhaled slowly.
“When do you want me there?”
“As soon as you can arrive lawfully and quietly.”
“I’ll move.”
“Jim.”
“Yes?”
“No spectacle.”
“Evidence first.”
“Understood.”
Cynthia added:
“And bring me a lawyer.”
Carter almost laughed.
“I can arrange one better than me pretending.”
“Good.”
She glanced at O’Grady.
“He thinks my attorney is coming from out of town.”
“One is.”
“See you soon.”
She hung up.
O’Grady pushed away from the wall.
“Fancy lawyer?”
“Competent one.”
He smiled.
“You’re going to need more than competent.”
Cynthia looked at him.
“We’ll see.”
O’Grady escorted her toward an interrogation room.
Cynthia stopped before entering.
“I invoked counsel.”
“I know.”
“I am not answering questions without an attorney.”
O’Grady gave her a patronizing smile.
“We’re just talking.”
“That is questioning.”
“Sit.”
Cynthia did not move.
Doyle approached from behind.
“You want to make this harder?”
Cynthia turned.
“I am clearly invoking my right to counsel.”
Doyle looked at O’Grady.
For the first time, uncertainty appeared.
O’Grady rolled his eyes.
“Fine.”
Then he leaned toward Cynthia.
“But your lawyer’s hours away.”
“That’s my problem.”
He walked inside the room.
Doyle followed.
They left Cynthia standing in the hallway with another officer.
She had denied them one opportunity to deepen the misconduct through an illegal interrogation.
But the story was already extensive enough.
Nearly two hours later, at 3:36 a.m., the atmosphere inside the precinct changed.
Not dramatically.
At first.
A lieutenant walked quickly into Captain Miller’s office.
Two unfamiliar men in suits appeared near the front desk.
Then another.
One presented credentials.
The desk sergeant stood straighter.
O’Grady looked up from his computer.
“What’s going on?”
No one answered him.
A federal attorney named Elena Brooks entered the holding area accompanied by Deputy Director James Carter and two members of Cynthia’s protective detail.
Elena was in her forties, composed, and clearly irritated by being called from bed.
She approached the cell.
“Ms. Holloway.”
Cynthia stood.
“Counsel.”
Elena looked at the marks on Cynthia’s wrists.
Then at O’Grady down the corridor.
“Have you been questioned after invoking me?”