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right now.”

Cal thanked Hal and hustled back to the office.

CHAPTER 58

CAL CALLED TOM CORLISS and told him that he had what he needed—the elusive proof. However, it was far more than Corliss originally wanted. It was enough to pin the murder on not only Scott Perry, but also Nikolay Gavin as well. Forget the fact that the F.B.I. had been after him for years. Now they had him on tape in his own words discussing conspiracy to commit murder.

Cal suggested Corliss find the moneybag found at the Bratva warehouse shootout and dust for prints. He also explained about the document and how it was faxed from the Wizards’ corporate office—another link between the two men. As the evidence mounted, Cal sensed that this might be one of the most twisted conspiracies he’d ever uncovered.

An hour later, Corliss called him back and confirmed what Cal already knew—both Perry and Gavin’s prints were on the bag.

“The biggest question I have regarding this case is why was Gavin’s fingerprints were in the hotel room where Jameson’s body was found?” Corliss said.

“I think that’s a question you need to ask him yourself—and I’d love to be there to watch,” Cal answered.

“Not sure if I can make that happen.”

“Sure you can. I’m helping you with the case, remember?”

“I’ll see what I can do. Some agents are already headed over to his place to pick him up.”

***

BY NOON ON SATURDAY, Cal had found a spot behind the F.B.I.’s two-way mirror so he could see all the action. Like Corliss, he had plenty of questions, starting with “Why have one of your own players murdered?” The obvious reasons seemed lame and beneath a wealthy businessman, but Cal never discounted anything. People continually surprised him. Wealthy, poor, American, foreign—it didn’t matter. Each person seemed to have a unique quirk, yet each had something in common when it came to committing a criminal act: selfishness. The ones who took selfishness to new heights always found a way to get caught, eventually.

Cal watched as Reese Olson settled into the seat next to Nikolay Gavin. The F.B.I. called Olson for Gavin as they were picking him up. The interrogation would be a waste of time if Olson wasn’t present.

Corliss straightened a packet of papers together by tapping them on the desk in front of him. He loosened his tie as he began.

“Mr. Gavin, I know you’re probably wondering how you ended up here, but I wanted to give you an opportunity to explain a few oddities around the death of Mr. Kelvin Jameson that resulted in us charging you with a federal crime in a murder-for-hire scheme.”

“You’re grasping at straws,” Gavin said. “I’m innocent.”

“If I had a nickel for every time I heard that from the person sitting across from me—and it were true—I wouldn’t have a nickel to my name.” He took a deep breath. “We don’t bring you in here unless we’ve got the evidence to put you away.”

“And I’m still waiting to hear that evidence.”

“Let’s start with this,” Corliss said as he slid a picture in front of Gavin. To Cal, it appeared to be the body of Kelvin Jameson. “How come your fingerprints ended up all over the crime scene?”

“I think we already explained that to the judge who tossed out the D.A’s flimsy murder charge,” Olson said.

Corliss pulled the photos back. “Yes, but you didn’t explain how your fingerprints ended up on a bag of money that we found at a Bratva hideout.”

Gavin didn’t move. “I’m sure they were planted.” He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “You’ve got nothing. It’s time to release me.”

“Not so fast,” Corliss said as he held up his finger. “I want to show you something.” He turned and pointed toward the monitor hanging in the corner of the room. “Let’s watch something, shall we?”

The video given to Cal by Hal Umberton played on the screen. Cal watched Gavin intently, searching for a sign that he was defeated. And he got was he was looking for as Gavin’s shoulders slumped. He put his head down and took a deep breath, refusing to look up at Corliss after the video ended.

A slight smile flickered across Corliss’s lips. “So, how do you explain that, Mr. Gavin? I’m sure your lawyer won’t be able to dig your way out of that one in court either, will you, Mr. Olson?”

“We won’t be answering any further questions,” Olson said.

Corliss glared across the table at the two men. “I didn’t think you would. But you will have to answer them on the stand—and I can promise you nobody is going to assume the best about a fat cat owner offing one of his players.” He stopped and let his last statement hang. “However, I have just one question for you, Mr. Gavin. Why’d you do it? Why’d you kill one of the most beloved players on your team?”

“My client has nothing further to say,” Olson answered.

Gavin slammed his fists on the table. “Because I wanted to win!”

Olson put his hand on Gavin’s chest. “Please, not another word.”

“No, it doesn’t matter,” Gavin replied as he waved off Olson. “That bastard Scott Perry screwed me plenty in the past. Then when I came up with this plan, he tried to double cross me and pin the murder on me. So I made sure he lost all his marquee clients. I made a little deal under the table with DJ O.T.U.S and sent some business his way. But Perry was relentless—and sloppy. I told Kelvin to dump Perry—even helped him write the letter myself. Perry got what he deserved.”

“So, are you confessing to arranging the murder of Scott Perry?” Corliss asked.

Gavin shook his head. “That man was hated by many. I wouldn’t waste another red cent on that piece of garbage. The Bratva handle things their own way.”

“That’s enough,” Olson said as he glared at Gavin.

“For once, I think you’re right,” Corliss said as he stood up and exited

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