Witness Protection Part 6
Public Defender
It was nearly midnight by the time Quatre Winner showed up, and I grimaced as he was ushered into the interview room. I really would have preferred Dorothy Catalonia; Winner was far too adept at manipulating the system.
"Detective Yuy," he said warmly, shaking my hand. "Can I safely assume you haven't been questioning my client without me present?"
"Of course not--" I began, just as Maxwell said "Hell, yes!" He leveled a defiant glare at me.
"I merely tried to explain his options," I said diplomatically.
"You fuckin' grilled me for two hours!" Maxwell snarled. He turned a pleading look to the public defender. "How soon can you get me out of here, Quat?"
The young attorney tossed the release paperwork on the table in front of me. "I took the liberty of stopping at the desk on the way in." He turned those astute aquamarine eyes on his client. "I figured you'd want out."
I realized the two had history, and guessed Winner must have represented Maxwell after previous arrests; after all, the man had a rap sheet as long as my arm.
The bastard nodded eagerly, standing up and holding out his shackled wrists. I'd at least been gracious enough to change the cuffs from behind his back to in front so he'd be more comfortable--not that he appreciated the gesture.
I gave Maxwell my most patient smile, and then very deliberately addressed Winner. "Before you go throwing your client to the wolves, perhaps you should know how deeply in trouble he is."
An elegant eyebrow rose curiously. "I'm listening."
"We have reason to believe Mister Maxwell was in Zechs Merquise's penthouse at the time of his death."
Winner glanced aside at Maxwell, apparently assessing his reaction.
"We have DNA, fingerprints, and even a piece of clothing belonging to your client." I dared a peek at Maxwell's face, which was set in a mask of indifference that didn't fool me for a minute. "He also knew how Merquise was killed--a piece of information we kept from the press."
"Ah, and did he reveal that fact during the two-hour grilling without benefit of attorney?" asked Winner calmly. Yes, he was an excellent public defender--one of the very best. "Because that would render it inadmissible in court."
"I know that," I snarled irritably. "If I wanted to try him for the murder, I'd have more than enough evidence even without what he's told me," I pointed out. "But I don't think he did it."
They both looked a bit surprised at that. So Maxwell had taken my threat to charge him with murder seriously.
"In fact," I continued smoothly. "I'd bet a substantial sum of money that he witnessed it." I paused to let the implications sink in. "I'd also bet that Treize Khushrenada had a hand in it. If word got out on the street that Maxwell saw who killed Merquise..."
Quatre's eyes narrowed slightly, and he shared a glance with Maxwell before fixing me with a glare. "And just how would that sort of rumor get started? You aren't suggesting that you'd leak that kind of information, are you? Because if you are--"
"No! I'm the last person who'd want to leak that information," I snapped. "I'd like nothing better than to nail Khushrenada for this. And if Maxwell could identify the killer, we might be able to coerce that person into giving him up as the one who gave the order."
Maxwell snorted wryly, leaning in to whisper in Winner's ear.
The attorney went uncharacteristically pale, turning a startled look to his client. "A-are you sure?"
Maxwell just gave him a withering look, and shrugged one shoulder.
"Duo, maybe you should cooperate--"
"No!" Maxwell spat coldly. "I'm not giving these assholes a goddamned thing, Winner. And if you're gonna try to make me, then get the fuck off my case and get that Catalonia chick in here!"
Quatre looked nonplussed, and then drew a deep breath. "I'd like a minute alone with him, detective."
I nodded, stepping closer to the lawyer as I moved towards the door. "Talk some sense into him, Winner. If he saw something, we need his testimony. And we're prepared to protect him in order to safeguard it."
"Protect me?" Maxwell blurted, a look of frank disbelief on his face. "I'm a fuckin' bodyguard, Yuy. I don't need your protection."
I fixed my sternest glare on him. "If you have information that could harm Treize Khushrenada, you need all the protection you can get. Do you have any idea how far his reach extends?"
"Do you?" came the unhesitating reply. The indigo eyes shone with something I'd have called fear in almost anyone else. "I'm not gonna cross Khushrenada. I'm not that stupid. I've got nothing to tell you guys about Zechs' murder. So you may as well cut me loose and get back to chasing your tails." He shook his head, mouth twisting in a wry smile. "You're wasting your time on Khushrenada. He's way out of your league."
"So you admit he had something to do with Merquise's death--and that you witnessed it?"
"I admit nothing!" he snapped back, giving Winner a sidelong glance.
The attorney gave me an impatient scowl and made a shooing gesture for me to leave. But I paused at the door for a parting shot. "Just remember, Maxwell--we found you. And so can Khushrenada."
He raised his chin defiantly. "I'm no stoolie."
"Tell it to Treize's boys when they show up to silence you," I suggested before stepping out of the room.
I felt no compunction at all about going into the booth where Wufei was recording the interview, and tapping the intercom switch so we could listen in.
Yes, it was completely illegal, and totally inadmissible in court. Sue me.
"Duo--I want you to reconsider cooperating with the police," Quatre said, letting a breath out in a distressed sigh. "Yuy was right. If the authorities found you, Khushrenada can, too. And he'll do whatever it takes to keep you off the witness stand."
Maxwell slumped back into the chair, rubbing his hands over his face. "Goddamn it, Quat! I'm not a sellout."
"No one's suggesting you are," soothed the attorney. "But if what you say is true--you can't hide from this. You have to help the police get him before he gets you."
Yes! Good little attorney! Talk your uncooperative asshole of a client into seeing reason.
"There is no 'getting' Khushrenada!" Maxwell said hotly. "He's got a freakin' army of goons all set to do his bidding. The only chance I've got is to disappear--on my own."
"Then why didn't you?"
"Y'kinda need money for that, Q-man," came an almost weary response. "And I didn't have any. When I took off from Zechs' place, I had the clothes on my back an' nothing else. I hightailed it over to Trowa's, because I didn't dare go back to my own apartment." He tugged at his shirt front. "He let me hide out there, and loaned me some clothes and some cash--but I needed to collect my last paycheck from Sanc so I'd have running money. That's when the cops showed up."
I studied Maxwell with a critical gaze. He did look pretty worn--with dark circles under his eyes that I had attributed to late hours and dissolute living. But maybe there was more to it. If I'd witnessed what he had, I'm pretty sure I couldn't have slept a wink either. Bad enough he'd seen his lover get his brains splattered all over an expensive Persian rug--but to know that the man who orchestrated the crime wielded unimaginable influence throughout the entire city-- He must have felt the pressure to avoid discovery from the moment he fled the penthouse.
But whether he liked the notion or not, the cat was already out of the bag. If we'd dug up enough evidence to point to there being a witness to the murder, so could Khushrenada. Even if Maxwell didn't realize it yet, he was already a marked man.
"If word gets out that we have a witness who can identify the killer as one of Khushrenada's employees, how the hell are we going to keep him alive to testify?" Chang asked despairingly. His onyx eyes fixed a tense look on me. "I'm not naïve enough to think there are no leaks in this department, Yuy."
"Neither am I," I sighed. "But look at it this way, we're prepared to offer protection to the shooter if he rolls over on his boss. It won't be any harder keeping Maxwell alive until he can identify the shooter."
"It also won't be any easier."
I focused my attention back on Maxwell and Winner, who had crossed to stand beside the distraught young man, running a soothing hand across his shoulders.
"--who'll be able to protect you--keep you alive to testify and get you into a witness relocation program."
"Fuck that!" Maxwell snarled, pushing to his feet and pacing restlessly across the room. "I'm not gonna do it, Winner. I'm not trusting a bunch of flat-footed, donut-eating morons to watch my back. Half of 'em are probably on the take anyway, and would sell me out to Khushrenada for the price of a six-pack."
Winner shook his head. "I've done a little homework. Yuy and Chang are not only not on the take--they tend to be rather overzealously dedicated."
Maxwell made a rude sound. "Yeah, I kinda got that impression when they flung me across the hood of a car and cuffed me."
His attorney shot him a keen look. "Were they out of line?"
I waited for a rant about "police brutality," but Maxwell just shrugged and smiled ruefully. "I s'pose not," he conceded. "A little rough--but then I'd made Yuy chase me six blocks before his partner cut me off in the car. We were all a bit--excited."
Quatre chuckled. "Oh, Duo--only you..."
I scowled, a bit surprised by the way Maxwell suddenly seemed to relax, his anger and frustration ebbing away.
He looked at his lawyer with a faint frown. "I'm serious about walking away from this, Quatre. I won't testify. I won't go up against Khushrenada."
"And what if he decides to try to silence you anyway--just in case?"
"Don't worry. I've been watching my back a lot of years. I can do it a few more," came the too-cocky reply.
My stomach knotted at his complacency. Did he truly have no idea how powerful Khushrenada was?
"He's as good as dead if he walks out of here," Wufei sighed. "How about we hold him for twenty-four hours, make him look at a few mug shots, and try to get him to talk? We'd at least have a statement on file when he ends up in the morgue."
"He's not gonna talk," I muttered unhappily. "At least not until he wakes up and smells the coffee; and by then, I'm pretty sure it'll be too late."
"You know we're not going to find a murder weapon, let alone tie it to Khushrenada's people. If we lose Maxwell, we may as well close the fucking case."
"We won't lose him," I swore with determination. "For starters, I'll put a tail on him. And I'll get the boys in surveillance to keep an eye on Khushrenada's movements. If it looks like Maxwell might become a target, we'll pick him up again."
"On what grounds?"
I smirked grimly. "Look at him, Chang...we could make a case for suspicious behavior based on his looks alone." I looked back at our witness, taking in the tight clubbing clothes, the long hair, and the defiant gleam in the indigo eyes. "He looks like a walking violation."
"True," agreed my partner, shaking his head. "Why can't our witnesses ever be good looking young women with manners and charm?"
It was my turn to snort. "Because good looking young women with manners and charm don't hang around with drug dealers, hookers, and murderers."
"Touché."
Winner had given up begging his client to accept our protection, and he walked over to the two-way mirror, tapping lightly. He knew perfectly well I was behind there watching the whole scenario.
Granted, he probably didn't realize I'd listened in; that would have been highly unethical on my part.
Screw ethics. I had a murderer to catch.
I went out into the hall, and Winner met me at the door to the interview room. "Sorry, Yuy. He's not ready to cooperate yet."
"Are you suggesting he might be later?"
He shrugged. "Maybe after someone takes a shot at him, his instinct for self-preservation will kick in."
"It'll be too late."
He gave me a genuinely sympathetic look. "I'll keep working on him."
Maxwell strolled over then, holding out his handcuffed wrists. "Get these the fuck off me, give me my knives back, and let me the fuck out of here," he said flatly.
I forced a patronizing smile as I removed the shackles, still trying to think of any delaying tactic I could. "You can go very soon," I replied as if I were talking to someone a bit stupid.
"Now," he snarled back.
"Are you in such a hurry to die?" I taunted, still making sure I was blocking the door with my body.
When he merely stood there tapping a foot restlessly, I gestured to the chair he'd vacated. "You may as well sit back down. It's going to be a few more minutes."
He glanced at Winner, who shrugged slightly, giving me a searching look, before heading back towards the table.
"What have you got up your sleeve, Yuy?" asked the sharp lawyer, glancing warily at me.
"I sent for someone from forensics to come up and get a sample of DNA from Maxwell--to compare to Merquise's apartment." It was a complete lie--but I wanted one last chance to try to impress upon him how dangerous it would be for him to leave. At least it got him to follow Winner and me back into the room.
"And you need his DNA why?" asked Winner.
"In case my boss decides tomorrow that she wants us to charge him with the murder."
Maxwell stopped in his tracks, eyes narrowing viciously. "You want a fuckin' DNA sample?" he sneered. Then he very deliberately walked over and spit on my paperwork on the interrogation table. "There's your goddamned sample." He turned on a heel, ignoring Winner's shocked expression, and walked to the door, pausing to look back at me with a challenging glare. "Y'gonna give me another black eye, Yuy?" he asked icily.
Fuck! And I'd thought he failed to recognize me after three years had elapsed. But the observant little bastard hadn't. He clearly remembered our first meeting, and how unpleasant it had been for both of us. I suppose I should have been glad he spit on the table, instead of on me this time.
"I'd love to," I snarled just as coldly. "But at least I've matured a bit, asshole."
He smirked darkly, flipped me the finger, and walked out.
"Khushrenada got to Merquise! He can get to you!" I called after him, following as far as the door and watching the sinuous grace of the way he walked, vaguely recalling his dance partner's act. Then I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a tension headache coming on. "For God's sake, Winner--get him to come back in," I pleaded.
Quatre smiled enigmatically. "It would be a shame for a pretty thing like him to end up dead, wouldn't it?"
I darted him a glare. "I have no interest in Maxwell beyond his ability to testify against Merquise's killer."
The smile widened. "Of course not. But you have to admit, he's quite stunning. No wonder Merquise took him as a lover. If I weren't his attorney, I'd be tempted."
"Look--counselor--this isn't about how much of a pretty boy Maxwell is. His fucking life is at stake here. You and he both better start taking that seriously."
"Oh, I do," the lawyer assured me. "I've known Duo for years. I almost consider him a friend. I'm the last person who wants to see anything bad happen to him."
"Then talk sense to the stubborn idiot, will you?"
"I'll do my best." He headed down the hall, calling for Maxwell to "wait up," and I leaned wearily against the wall as Wufei came out to stand beside me.
"I called downstairs and told Kelly to put a tail on him. If we catch wind of trouble, we'll at least know where Maxwell is."
"Fat lot of good that'll do us when someone drives by and opens up on him," I muttered, shaking my head and turning towards our office. "Let's talk to Po about this first thing in the morning and find out what she wants us to do next."
TBC...
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