She read off the case numbers as she and the others took their seats.
“Mr. Dawber, you were read your rights at the time of your arrest. I will again inform you on this record.”
She recited the Revised Miranda.
“Do you understand these rights and obligations?”
“Yes, yes, of course. But I’m very confused. I think there’s been some mistake.”
“Yeah, you made several of them. Underestimating Mary Kate Covino’s the biggest.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know who that is.” With a worried look in his eyes, he tried that vague smile.
“One of the three woman you hunted, stalked, abducted, and kept chained in your basement. The one who’s still alive.”
Those worried eyes widened. “Oh my goodness! I would never—could never. What basement? There’s been some terrible mix-up.”
Liar, Eve thought, calculating liar.
“The basement in your brownstone.”
“Brownstone.” He laughed a little. “Lieutenant Dallas, how could I afford a brownstone on my salary? I live frugally, but—”
“Deeded to you last September.” Eve took the copies of the documents out of the file, pushed them over the table, where Dawber hunched over them, brow furrowed.
“This isn’t my name. It’s—”
“An anagram of your birth mother’s name. Lisa McKinney, who bought it for you, sent you the paperwork, deposited six million in a brokerage account for you, and informed you of same in this letter sent just before she took her own life.”
“No, this can’t be. I’ve never seen any of this. I haven’t seen my birth mother for decades. I barely remember her. I…”
He looked up, and his face crumbled. “I want my mommy!” The twangy screech echoed in the room. “You’re mean and ugly and I don’t want you. I want my mommy now.”
“Knock it off,” Eve snapped.
“She’s gonna beat you up!”
“Dead. Tough for her to manage that.”
“Is not, is not, is not!” He beat his cuffed hands on the table, kicked his shackled feet while tears streamed down his reddened face.
“How old are you, Andy?”
At Mira’s question, her quiet and pleasant voice, he snarled at her. “I’m not Andy. Andy’s a stupid head. I’m baby darling, and I want my mommy.”
“Where is your mommy?”
“She’s waiting for me.”
“Where?”
He turned sly. “I’m not gonna tell. I want a soda pop!”
“What kind do you want?” Peabody spoke now, kindly. “If you ask nicely, I’ll get you one.”
“I’m thirsty. Get me one right now!”
“I bet your mommy taught you how to say please and thank you.”
His bottom lip poked out, a strange look on a man of sixty. “Maybe. Please can I have an orange soda pop?”
“Sure.”
“Peabody exiting Interview,” Eve said for the record. “Where do you live?”
“In the car. We have adventures and don’t need anybody else. We sing songs and play games and I can have candy when I want it. I want candy now.”
“No. And try screaming again you won’t get the soda, either.” Eve leaned closer. “You’re not five years old, and you’re nobody’s baby darling.”
He tried to lunge at her; she didn’t flinch.
“I hate you, hate you, hate you!”
“Yeah, that hurts my feelings.”
“What did your mother call you when she got upset with you?” Mira asked him.
“Johnny, you stop that right now!” And he giggled. “But I’m baby darling and she loves only me. Just me. And I want her now!”
Eve slid Elder’s crime scene photo across the table.
“That’s not my mommy.”
“No, so you had to kill her. What did she do to make you so mad you slit her throat?”
“I don’t have to tell you.” He used a singsong voice now. “I don’t have to tell you.”
“Peabody reentering Interview. He doesn’t get that until he stops being an asshole.”
“You said a bad word because you’re a bad girl.”
“But you’re a good boy,” Mira said. “You try to be a very good boy.”
“I’m the best boy. Mommy says, and one day we’re going to live in a big house and eat ice cream all day. I want ice cream now!”