Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #2: Books 5-8 (A Dead Cold Box Set) Blake Banner (read out loud books txt) 📖

to get out before you’re dead. The proof is conclusive. There isn’t a jury on Earth that would not convict you within five minutes of seeing the evidence. It’s a slam dunk. Am I getting through to you?”

“I wanna see my lawyer.”

“Don’t worry, he’s on his way. I am not interrogating you. I am just talking.”

“Okay.”

“You’ve already been told. You don’t need to say anything. But you’d be smart to listen. Because there is a way for you to be able to see your family again, and be with them.”

“There is…?”

I put my finger to my lips. “Shshshsh… Don’t talk. Just listen. I am not interested in you, Guzman. I would happily waive all charges against you. I would happily recommend a deal to the DA. Witness protection could put you far away, in Cali, in a nice house with your family. A new life.” I sighed again. “You know what I want, Guzman, don’t you?”

He puffed his cheeks and blew. “Man, I don’t know…”

“Don’t talk. Just listen. The way it is now, you are going away for the rest of your life and nobody—nobody—is even going to try to help you. You will become an old man in prison. And you will probably die in prison.” I paused, watching his stupid, simple face. “But you give me what I want, Guzman, and you will spend the rest of your life enjoying the blessing of your wife and your children, on a beach in California. Not many people get a second chance, Guzman. God has seen fit to offer you a second chance. What do you think the smart move is? Huh?”

There was something like awe in his face.

“They would kill me, man?”

I burst out laughing, leaning back in my chair and throwing back my head. “Jay! Jay! Do you really think they are not going to kill you? You really think they are going to let you reach two years in jail? Do you have any idea how dangerous you are? Do you understand the people who you will bring down if you talk to me?” I paused and shook my head. “The information you have is so important, Guzman, that even if you decided in five years to come clean, it could reduce your sentence.” I laughed again. “But don’t get ideas, because your employers, the people you can bring down with what you know, are aware of that, and they will not let you get to five years. You won’t last three months, pal. Your smart move is talk to me. Make a deal. Get on the witness protection program. It is your best, last hope.”

He swallowed. He was terrified. He was not intelligent, but he was shrewd and cunning enough to know that I was telling the truth.

“Your lawyer will be arriving in a few minutes, Guzman. Listen to him, see what he says to you. My bet? He will tell you to plead guilty and keep your mouth shut. That’s because the people paying his fees are your employers—the people who will go down if you talk. You’ll stand trial, you’ll go to prison, and after a few weeks you’ll be executed in the showers. And the buck will stop with you, and all of those sons of bitches will laugh and piss on your grave.” I shook my head. “No, that’s a lie, Guzman. They won’t piss on your grave, because they will have no idea who the hell you are, or where you are buried.”

“You would say that…”

“I’m not going to try and persuade you, Jay. I’m going to take them down sooner or later, one way or another. This way is quicker, and though I would be happy to see you rot in a cell for the rest of your life, or get knifed in the showers, you son of a bitch…” I showed him my arm in a sling. “I would be just as happy to see you give your wife and kids a decent life in exchange for seeing your bosses get what’s coming to them, sooner rather than later. But in the end?” I shook my head. “It’s all the same to me.”

There was a commotion outside and the door burst open. A big guy in an Italian suit wearing a fedora and an expensive coat came in. “We’re done here! I am Mr. Guzman’s attorney. He has nothing to say. This interview is over!”

I kept my eyes fastened on Guzman’s. I said, “Yeah, we’re done here.”

Dehan turned and shouted, “Sergeant!” The sergeant poked his head in the door. “Take Mr. Guzman down to the holding cells when he’s finished talking to his attorney.”

“Sure thing, detective.”

We stepped out of the interrogation room and walked down the stairs. As though of a single mind, instead of going into the detectives’ room, we stepped into the street. It was late afternoon and the sun had slipped behind the buildings and the bare trees, casting long, wintry shadows.

Dehan stopped, breathing plumes of condensation, and watched my face with a frown. She said, “I think we’re done for today, Stone. You look beat. Let Guzman stew for the night. He’ll talk to us in the morning. You scared the bejesus out of him. I think we got him.”

In my mind I told her to go home. I’d get take out, watch a movie, and see her in the morning. I told her to stay at the station, go out to dinner with some guy, any guy! Do whatever she had to do. I’d take care of myself, the way I always had. But not a single one of those words could make it out past my throat. My jaw was locked shut. She watched me a moment longer, then made a face like a firm decision. “Come on. You shouldn’t even be here. I’m going to get the key and our