Power Play
Page 95
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Davis said, “Your father registered the Smith and Wesson some thirty years ago. Do you know where it is?”
“No.” Abbott gave Davis a full-bodied sneer. “The person who shot at you and Perry last night—did you get hit? Is that why you’re wearing that dick Band-Aid on your face?”
Davis grinned at the man who looked about ready to burst out of his beautiful suit and leap on him. Ready to make things personal, Day? Davis said, “What, you don’t like a jungle theme? It’s from Perry’s medicine cabinet, of course. She smoothed it down herself.”
Griffin, his voice as smooth as the teak railing on his dad’s prized sailboat, said, “The gun used last night, it was the same caliber as your father’s pistol. To cut off this thread, we’d like to check it for ballistics, if you have it somewhere.”
“But—”
Davis said over him, “You speak to your father often, Mr. Abbott?” Davis began writing in a black notebook, aware Abbott was watching him.
“Every week,” Day said. “Thursday night, even when he’s traveling or I’m traveling. My parents split up a long time ago. When he left, my dad made me promise we’d always speak once a week. We have. It’s a habit. He’s my dad.”
Day got slowly to his feet. He was looking at them like they were a couple low-class slugs. He said, “Well, are we done here?”
Griffin said, “Perhaps you could tell us why you think all of this is happening, Mr. Abbott.”
Day leaned over, splayed his palms on the desktop. “I believe, as does my mother, that Mrs. Black unwittingly hurt someone in England and that this someone wants revenge. About the threatening notes to Perry, the shots fired at her last night, I can only think it’s meant to hurt her mother.” He straightened. “I really can’t do your jobs for you, Agents. I know of no one who would want to hurt Perry or her mother here in the United States. Now, I have nothing more to say to either of you. I want you to leave now.”
Davis said, “Mr. Abbott, what does your mother think of your marriage plans with Perry?”
Day was silent for a moment. “My mother may very nearly rule the known world, but she doesn’t rule me.” He caught himself. “It’s obvious Perry doesn’t fit the mold of the lovely young professional woman, what with her riding around on her Harley like a wannabe Hells Angel. I know my mother thinks Perry’s behavior is her dad’s fault. Mom said Brundage Black was selfish, that he heaped all his attention, all his pride, on the little daughter he made into his clone, and he never let her go. I don’t expect you to understand any of that, Agent, since you hardly know Perry. But realize this. I do love her and she loves me. As for my mother, she’ll come around.”
Davis pulled a small plastic envelope from his pocket. “Would you mind giving us a cheek swab?”
Day stared at him as if he’d grown another ear.
“It won’t hurt,” Davis said.
Griffin saw the pulse pounding in Day Abbott’s neck. His face was flushed, anger flowing hot and heavy. “You want my DNA? You’ve got to be joking.”
“Nope, not at all.”
“You like throwing around your cop’s weight, Sullivan? Intimidating people? You’ve been trying to drive a wedge between Perry and me all along, and that’s why she hasn’t returned my calls. You think she’d ever have anything to do with you? Once this is over, once you’re out of her life, she’ll come back to me and she’ll never give you another thought.”
His sneer was full-blown now. “I’ll bet you couldn’t take her out of the States, not on your cop’s salary. Tell you what, Sullivan, I’ll think of you when I take Perry to Cannes, while we’re wandering the beaches, while I’m making love to her. Take your stupid swab and get out of my office. You’re deluded if you think I’ll give you my DNA.”
Davis held it together, mostly, but his voice was flippant, and he knew he was goading Day Abbott. “No, not deluded; the FBI shrinks tested me, said I was good to go,” Davis said. “Whether Perry ends up with you on the beach in Cannes or with me on the Champs-Élysées in Paris, we’ll get there quicker if you give us your DNA. It’s a simple cheek swab. We’re going to be asking everyone involved in the case, everyone with access to Perry, to give a DNA sample willingly. If you do, you’ll very likely be out of the running as our shooter last night. Here.”
Day Abbott never looked away from Davis. “Get out, both of you.”
“No.” Abbott gave Davis a full-bodied sneer. “The person who shot at you and Perry last night—did you get hit? Is that why you’re wearing that dick Band-Aid on your face?”
Davis grinned at the man who looked about ready to burst out of his beautiful suit and leap on him. Ready to make things personal, Day? Davis said, “What, you don’t like a jungle theme? It’s from Perry’s medicine cabinet, of course. She smoothed it down herself.”
Griffin, his voice as smooth as the teak railing on his dad’s prized sailboat, said, “The gun used last night, it was the same caliber as your father’s pistol. To cut off this thread, we’d like to check it for ballistics, if you have it somewhere.”
“But—”
Davis said over him, “You speak to your father often, Mr. Abbott?” Davis began writing in a black notebook, aware Abbott was watching him.
“Every week,” Day said. “Thursday night, even when he’s traveling or I’m traveling. My parents split up a long time ago. When he left, my dad made me promise we’d always speak once a week. We have. It’s a habit. He’s my dad.”
Day got slowly to his feet. He was looking at them like they were a couple low-class slugs. He said, “Well, are we done here?”
Griffin said, “Perhaps you could tell us why you think all of this is happening, Mr. Abbott.”
Day leaned over, splayed his palms on the desktop. “I believe, as does my mother, that Mrs. Black unwittingly hurt someone in England and that this someone wants revenge. About the threatening notes to Perry, the shots fired at her last night, I can only think it’s meant to hurt her mother.” He straightened. “I really can’t do your jobs for you, Agents. I know of no one who would want to hurt Perry or her mother here in the United States. Now, I have nothing more to say to either of you. I want you to leave now.”
Davis said, “Mr. Abbott, what does your mother think of your marriage plans with Perry?”
Day was silent for a moment. “My mother may very nearly rule the known world, but she doesn’t rule me.” He caught himself. “It’s obvious Perry doesn’t fit the mold of the lovely young professional woman, what with her riding around on her Harley like a wannabe Hells Angel. I know my mother thinks Perry’s behavior is her dad’s fault. Mom said Brundage Black was selfish, that he heaped all his attention, all his pride, on the little daughter he made into his clone, and he never let her go. I don’t expect you to understand any of that, Agent, since you hardly know Perry. But realize this. I do love her and she loves me. As for my mother, she’ll come around.”
Davis pulled a small plastic envelope from his pocket. “Would you mind giving us a cheek swab?”
Day stared at him as if he’d grown another ear.
“It won’t hurt,” Davis said.
Griffin saw the pulse pounding in Day Abbott’s neck. His face was flushed, anger flowing hot and heavy. “You want my DNA? You’ve got to be joking.”
“Nope, not at all.”
“You like throwing around your cop’s weight, Sullivan? Intimidating people? You’ve been trying to drive a wedge between Perry and me all along, and that’s why she hasn’t returned my calls. You think she’d ever have anything to do with you? Once this is over, once you’re out of her life, she’ll come back to me and she’ll never give you another thought.”
His sneer was full-blown now. “I’ll bet you couldn’t take her out of the States, not on your cop’s salary. Tell you what, Sullivan, I’ll think of you when I take Perry to Cannes, while we’re wandering the beaches, while I’m making love to her. Take your stupid swab and get out of my office. You’re deluded if you think I’ll give you my DNA.”
Davis held it together, mostly, but his voice was flippant, and he knew he was goading Day Abbott. “No, not deluded; the FBI shrinks tested me, said I was good to go,” Davis said. “Whether Perry ends up with you on the beach in Cannes or with me on the Champs-Élysées in Paris, we’ll get there quicker if you give us your DNA. It’s a simple cheek swab. We’re going to be asking everyone involved in the case, everyone with access to Perry, to give a DNA sample willingly. If you do, you’ll very likely be out of the running as our shooter last night. Here.”
Day Abbott never looked away from Davis. “Get out, both of you.”
