"Malachim? You mean Michael?"
The agent nodded. "I've been told his precinct's Internal Affairs Department has had a close watch on him since his transfer from Pennsylvania."
"Gee," I sneered, "I wonder who told you that."
"Don't be a wiseass, McMannus," bad cop said from where he leaned against the wall. It was Dorshak. For effect, he wore just his shirtsleeves. The black holster was a dark contrast to the perfectly pressed white oxford. He'd been showing me that gun for hours. Instead of being impressed with the battered .45, all I could think was he must have gotten a raise finally, after all this time. His shirt was so white that under the harsh light it almost blinded me. I recognized his haircut from last week's issue of GQ. Too bad he didn't have the looks to carry it off. It made him look half-finished, as though he had all the right parts, but none of them fit.
"So," I said, leaning back in the chair. I held up my bruised chin with more confidence than I felt. "You've had me followed ever since our phone conversation, haven't you, Ted?"
"I knew you couldn't stay away from Angelucci." Dorshak squinted. He crossed his arms in front of his barrel chest. He used his fists to give his biceps extra bulk. "I tried to warn you this would happen."
I laughed. "Oh, yeah. Thanks a lot. You're a true friend."
"Don't act like any of this is my fault, McMannus. You're the one with the history of consorting with terrorists and murderers." Dorshak's tone was indignant and he wagged his finger at me. "Why don't you try cooperating with the Bureau for once, and answer this guy's questions, huh?"
"Why don't you answer a question of mine, Ted? Why is the tech-theft case with Jordan Institute still open?"
"What?" Dorshak looked honestly baffled by my request. "Who?"
"It's the case Daniel and I were working on before he shot the Pope."
He shook his head from side to side. "I don't know anything about that case. If you think that has anything to do with what's happening now, well, then you've been listening to those conspiracy theorists too long, Dee."
I swallowed the desire to rise to Dorshak's bait. My instincts told me Dorshak knew nothing about the Jordan Institute mystery. I glanced over at the FBI agent, who watched our exchange patiently. He had a slightly faraway look in his eyes. Most likely he was recording the conversation and transmitting it to the Bureau's local office. There a team of agents deciphered my every word and gesture and relayed back the appropriate response to the field agent.
"What was it you people wanted?" I positioned my face dead center of the eye where the fiber-optic camera was hardwired. I resisted the urge to wave.
"Freshta. How do you know Jibril Freshta?"
He was like a bloody robot. "I don't. How many times do I have to tell you? I don't know him."
"What were you doing at his apartment?"
I studied the table, hiding my pupils from a possible scan. He'd probably register the elevated heart rate, but there wasn't much I could do about that. I let the air in my lungs come out in a slow breath and shook my head.
"If you roll over on them, you can still save yourself," Dorshak growled. "But, as you should know, the antiterrorist act is pretty strict. Keep this attitude up, and you'll end up on death row. Like Danny."
"Of course," reminded the agent, "the Bureau can be lenient. If you cooperate, things will go easier on you."
The threats were almost verbatim from the last time I sat in this hard plastic seat. I shut my eyes. It seemed
like a thousand years since I was on the other side of this table, and Danny and I would argue over who was going to get to be bad cop this time. He always insisted a woman made a better good cop. To which, I countered, woman as bad cop had pure shock value. Besides, I would remind him, his warm brogue would melt even the hardest heart.
The FBI agent was trying out his version of the "comforting, trust-me" look right now. It just didn't have Daniel's style.
"Come on, McMannus," Dorshak snarled. "You know how this works. The cop is the one we want. He's already under Internal Affairs' watch since his contact with the Malachim. All we need is a little more proof that he's antigovernment. You of all people should know hearsay is admissible evidence in antiterrorist cases."
"I resent that implication. Daniel was no terrorist." I shoved my fingers through the perfect line of Styrofoam lifeboats. One of them capsized. I swept the rest up into my fist.
"He shot the Pope in cold blood, even he's admitting that now." Dorshak gave me a pitying glance. "But, I forgot, you're not LINKed anymore. You don't have access to the interviews he's given lately. Your partner is way over the deep end, McMannus way over. He actually claims the angels told him to do it. They ... what was it he said ... ? 'Guided his hand.' "
"Wha ...?" I thought I'd hardened myself to any assault on Danny's character over the last year, but Dorshak's words punctured my resolve. Danny never believed in the LINK-angels. He always said if they were a sign from God, the true God, why did they only appear to the affluent those connected by expensive wetware? Daniel convinced me, Jesus was a man for the poor, the outcast. Why would God only talk to the rich? It seemed like a major change in policy.