Fatal Consequences (22 page)

When Sam and Freddie entered the interrogation room, Bradford Tillinghast sat up straighter in his chair. His attorney, an older man with snow-white hair, sat next to him.

“May I please make a phone call?” Tillinghast asked.

“Eventually,” Sam said.

“I need to talk to my wife. Before she hears about this from someone else.”

Judging by how quickly Nick had heard, Sam guessed that ship had already sailed, but she wasn’t about to tell Tillinghast that. Funny how he was thinking of his wife
now
.

“May we have your permission to record this interview?” she asked.

The lawyer acquiesced. “What about the phone call?” he asked.

“Later.”

Tillinghast released a tortured sigh, as it seemed to settle in on him that his wife would probably hear about his arrest from someone other than him.

“I’d like to know how you made contact with Regina and Maria,” Sam said.

“I don’t wish to disclose that information,” Tillinghast said, his face suddenly red and flushed.

Sam cast a glance at the lawyer, who’d no doubt provided the line, and then back at Tillinghast. “Will you disclose the details of the various encounters with the women?”

His eyes darted to the lawyer, who nodded.

A bead of sweat ran down Tillinghast’s face. “I, um…I met Maria first. We…I ah…have ‘appetites’ that my wife finds offensive.” He’d no sooner swiped away one drop of sweat when another appeared.

“And what about Maria? Did she find your ‘appetites’ offensive?”

“If she did, she never said so to me.”

“How much did you pay her to satisfy your perversions?”

His eyes flashed with outrage. “I’m not perverted! I just like certain things…”

“How much?”

“Two thousand.”

“And that bought you how much time to satisfy your ‘appetites’?”

“Four hours,” he mumbled.

“So you saw her twice?”

He nodded.

“I’d like the dates of these encounters.”

Tillinghast looked again to his lawyer.

“Do you know the dates?” the lawyer asked him.

“Not off the top of my head.”

“Where would they be?” Sam asked.

“On my calendar at work.”

How stupid could he be? Sam wondered. “Which is where?”

“In my top desk drawer.”

Sam looked to Freddie, who nodded with understanding. He briefly left the room to find someone to go get the calendar and returned a minute later with a consent to search form that Tillinghast signed, granting them permission to retrieve the calendar and place it into evidence.

“Did you contact them outside of the organization they worked for?”

He looked down at his hands.

“Mr. Tillinghast?”

“I offered them twice what the service paid—in cash—to meet with me the second time.”

“That’s how you came to have their cell numbers.”

“Yes.”

Sam wondered if their “freelancing” was a motive for murder. “Where were you last Friday and Saturday?”

“At a family wedding in Long Island. My wife and children can attest to that as well as scores of other family members who were there and saw me.”

“Is there any chance you got Maria pregnant?” Sam asked.

At that, Tillinghast’s face went from red and flushed to chalky white. “
Pregnant?
” he squeaked.

“You heard me.”

“No. There’s no chance.”

“And you know that how?”

“Because I used condoms.”

“Provided by you or her?”

The question seemed to catch him off guard. “Her,” he said. “She insisted.”

Sam trained a steely stare on him, waiting for the realization to set in.

“Oh my God,” he said softly, so softly she wondered if the recording would capture it. “Are you saying…?”

“I’m saying she was pregnant at the time of her death.”

“And you think it was
mine
?”

“I have no idea who the father is.” Sam wondered if even Maria knew, but this hunk of successful all-American manhood would no doubt have made an attractive candidate to a woman looking to anchor her place in America. “Would you be willing to submit to a DNA test?”

Frantic, Tillinghast turned to his lawyer, his expression beseeching.

“If my client’s DNA matches that of Maria’s fetus, what would he be charged with?”

“Nothing—unless it also matches the DNA of the man who raped and murdered her.”

“I did not murder her!” Tillinghast cried. “I saw her twice. We had sex, I paid her and I left. I never saw her again! I wasn’t even in town when she was killed!”

“If that’s the case, I’d think you would welcome a DNA test.”

After a charged moment of silence, the lawyer said, “We’ll submit.”

“Detective Cruz, please ask Dr. McNamara to join us.” After Freddie left the room, Sam said, “How soon after your liaisons with Maria did you meet up with Regina?”

“A couple of weeks.”

“Why the switch to a different woman?”

“Maria refused to see me again after the second time.”

“Why was that?”

“Do we really have to get into the details?”

“Yeah, we really do.”

Sighing, he tightened his crossed hands until his knuckles went white. “She said I was too rough.”

“But Regina didn’t mind that?”

“After the second time, she wouldn’t see me either.”

“You’re a prince among men, Mr. Tillinghast.”

“Look, I can’t help—”

“Save it. Were there any others?”

“Just one.”

“Her name?”

“I don’t know her last name.”

“What was her first name?”

“Selina.”

Sam suppressed a gasp. “When was the last time you saw her?”

“Last night,” he muttered.

Hearing that lovely buzz of pieces falling together, Sam said, “I’m going to need to know how you initially found these women.”

“I’m not willing to tell you that.” His earlier bravado had been replaced by what looked like fear to Sam.

“What were you told would happen to you if you ended up in this situation?”

“I’m not willing to tell you that.”

“Until you’re willing, you’ll be our guest in the city jail.”

He launched out of his chair. “You can’t do that! I didn’t kill those women. I have an alibi!”

“You have information pertaining to a homicide investigation that you are not willing to divulge. That makes you an accessory to murder.”

Tillinghast appealed to his lawyer. “
Do something!
”

“Tell him,” Sam said to the lawyer. “There’s nothing you can do.”

“There’s nothing I can do,” the lawyer said, tugging his client’s arm to get him to sit back down.

Tillinghast slumped in his chair. His robust complexion had gone pale and pasty under the fluorescent lights at HQ.

Sam smiled. “See? Told you.”

Freddie returned with Lindsey McNamara.

“He’s all yours, Doc.” Sam called Detective Arnold from the pit. “When Dr. McNamara is done with Mr. Tillinghast, take him to central booking. Cruz, you’re with me.”

“Where’re we going Lieutenant?”

“To pick up our old friend Selina Rameriz. Our new friend Tillinghast hooked up with her last night.”

“No way.”

“Yep.” Because she was concerned that the word was out about Tillinghast’s arrest, Sam used her radio to order patrol officers to Selina’s apartment as quickly as possible. In her car, Sam flipped on the lights and siren and made quick work of getting to Columbia Heights.

Two department cruisers were parked outside Selina’s building. Sam was filled with anxiety as she wondered whether she’d find a witness or a victim waiting for her. A quick look at Freddie’s tense face told her he was worried about the same thing.

Sam was relieved when she saw Selina emerge from the building, escorted by two patrol officers. The young woman was crying and resisting their attempts to escort her to the street, but she was alive. Taking a good look around at the crowd gathered on the street to watch the proceedings, Sam had no doubt that if they hadn’t gotten to her when they did, their killer would have. After they talked to her downtown, Sam planned to arrange a safe house for her until they caught this guy.

Despite Tillinghast having had contact with both dead women, Sam believed him when he said he didn’t kill them. Besides, his eyes were blue, and Jeannie had described her attacker’s eyes as dark and mean looking. The proof would be in the DNA and in the alibi, which she asked Freddie to confirm with Tillinghast’s wife.

“Why are you arresting me?” Selina cried. “I haven’t done anything!”

Sam stepped up to the handcuffed woman. “Solicitation and prostitution. Ringing any bells, Ms. Rameriz?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Selina said even as her face drained of color.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She gestured to Freddie. “Let’s get her downtown.”

“Please,” Selina said as tears cascaded down her face. “Please don’t do this. I needed the money. I was desperate.”

“If you cooperate with our investigation into the murders of your colleagues, I might be willing to talk to the assistant U.S. attorney about immunity for you.”

“What do I have to do?” she asked, her expression wary.

“Let’s talk about it downtown.”

At HQ, Sam was met by the usual pack of reporters. The questions flew at her.

“Lieutenant, what do you think of the senator’s statement to the media?”

“Did you put him up to calling Forrester about Gibson?”

“Why did you arrest Brad Tillinghast?”

Sam pushed past them and directed Freddie to take Selina to interrogation. She headed for her office where Captain Malone greeted her.

“What has Nick done?” she asked.

“He went to Forrester and the media about Gibson. Made quite a statement.”

“Shit,” Sam muttered. “He shouldn’t have done that.”

“It seems to have touched a chord in the city. We’ve been bombarded with calls.”

“Fabulous,” Sam said, wondering what Nick had been thinking.

“They’ve been calling Forrester too,” Malone continued, “and he is
not
pleased.”

“It won’t stop them from releasing Gibson, and Nick has probably created a boatload of political trouble for himself.” This was exactly the type of thing she’d been concerned about when the Virginia Democrats first approached him about finishing out the last year of John O’Connor’s term—her crap landing on his crap and causing him deep shit.

“That’s on him, Sam. You certainly didn’t ask him to call Forrester for you.” Malone hesitated. “Did you?”

“No! You know I hate that good old boy network bullshit that goes on in this town.” Frustrated, Sam released the clip that held her long hair and let it fall past her shoulders. “He had a run-in with his deadbeat mother yesterday. He’s not in a good place today. I don’t know why he’d make that kind of statement. He has to know the media will jump all over both of us.”

“Maybe it’ll help.”

“I guess we’ll see,” Sam said even though she doubted it would do anything more than cause him a great deal of political heartburn. It would probably also please Peter to see Nick so spun up over his release, but Sam refused to care about what Peter thought of anything.

Before she joined Freddie in the interrogation room, she tried to call Nick, but his phone went right to voicemail. She wondered if he’d shut it off to dodge the deluge of calls from the media or to avoid the call he knew would be coming from her.

When Sam entered the interrogation room, Selina startled and wiped the tears from her face—a pointless gesture, since they kept right on coming.

“Are you going to report me to INS?” she asked. Her English was slightly accented but fluent nonetheless.

“That depends on whether or not you cooperate with our investigation.”

“What do you want to know?” Her eyes darted between Sam and Freddie.

“May I have your permission to record this interview?” Sam asked.

Selina stared at the recorder for a long moment before she nodded.

“Tell us how you came to be involved in providing sex for money,” Sam said.

“You have to understand, if I hadn’t been desperate, I never,
ever
would’ve gotten involved in something like this.”

“We’re not here to pass judgment, Ms. Rameriz,” Sam said. “We’re trying to figure out who killed your coworkers. How did you become involved?”

“It was on a break at work,” she said softly. “I mentioned that my mother needed an operation and we didn’t have the money. Regina said she might be able to help me.”

Questions cycled through Sam’s mind, but she stayed quiet and gave Selina the chance to collect her thoughts.

“Regina said she knew someone who helped girls like us who needed fast money.”

“Who was this person she referred to?”

“I don’t know,” Selina said. “Regina gave me a phone number and told me to call if I was interested. She said I could make thousands of dollars in a single night.”

“Did you know what you’d have to do when you made that call?”

Selina shook her head. “I was led to believe that we provided escorts—literally—to men who needed dates for events. I thought that’s all it was. Apparently, if another of their girls refers you, she gets a bonus. I found that out later.”

“What kind of information did they want from you before they took you on?”

“I had to send a photo, a health screening, background. That kind of stuff.”

Sam couldn’t believe the health screening hadn’t been a giveaway for what the men were really after. “How did you find out it was more than dates to parties?”

“The first time I called, the woman I talked to was really nice. She said a man had requested a date for a black-tie gala and was willing to pay for a beautiful woman. All I had to do, she said, was dress formally and meet the man at the event.”

“Which was held where?”

“At the Reagan Building downtown. I was told to enter the building on the 14
^th
Street side and to wait for him inside security.”

“And this was when?”

“January 18.”

“Did your contact give you the name of the man you were meeting?”

She shook her head. “I was told he’d know to look for me. A short time after I arrived, he came through security and walked right over to me.”