Daly had met Grossman somewhere along the way. Now the man knew who had given Munro his secrets.
Connor’s smile was feral. “If you’re thinking of getting revenge on the guy who told Munro your secret, you’re too late. He’s as dead as Munro. Throat slit ear to ear.” He produced one of the crime scene photos of Grossman’s dead body. “Whoever has that list isn’t afraid to spill blood. I’d recommend not missing any payments.”
Daly still said nothing, but there was satisfaction in his eyes when he saw Grossman’s body. He was glad the man was dead.
Kit turned to the attorney. “Tell your client that his cooperation could earn him a deal with the prosecutor. My partner andI are not personally interested in whatever Mr.Daly did to get on that blackmail list, unless it was a homicide, of course. We just want to catch a killer who’s put at least four bodies in the morgue since Saturday.”
“Is my client under arrest?” the attorney demanded.
“No,” Kit said.
“He’s free to go,” Connor added, and both attorney and client rose from their chairs. The attorney grasped Daly’s elbow when the man swayed on his feet. “But if he’s approached by a guy with a neckbeard, he should run as fast as he can as far as he can.”
Daly’s face went from pale to stark white and he sank back into his chair. “What?”
“Neckbeard,” Kit said with the sunny smile. “He’s killed several people. If he decides you’re too big a liability—especially since you’ve been called in to see us—he might come after you.” She wiggled her fingers in a wave, then mimicked a knife across her throat, ear to ear. “Ta-ta! Have a nice evening.”
Daly didn’t move and his attorney slowly sat beside him. “Simon?” the attorney asked quietly.
Daly shook his head. His mouth opened and closed but nothing came out.
The attorney looked at Kit and Connor. “I’d like to speak with my client privately, please.”
Kit smiled and came to her feet. “Okay! Just tap on the glass when you’re ready. We’ll turn down the volume.”
Sam was still shaking his head when the two detectives walked into the observation room. “Ta-ta?”
Kit chuckled. “It worked.”
“You scare me sometimes,” Sam said.
Kit’s smile grew brighter. “Thank you.”
“I’m not sure that was a compliment,” Navarro said.
“It was, actually,” Sam said.
Kit gave herself a shake. “Gosh. That cheerfulness really starts to chafe after a while.” She turned down the volume of the speaker in the observation room, then stood at the glass. Her gaze was glued to Simon Daly and his attorney. “What do you think, Sam?” she asked, her voice back to normal.
“I think he recognized Grossman and he was glad the man was dead. Do I think Daly had a hand in killing Munro? Probably not. But you definitely got his attention with the mention of Neckbeard Guy. He knows him. Or at least he’s seen him.”
Daly and his attorney had turned so that their faces weren’t visible to the observers on the other side of the glass, but Daly’s body language now screamed fear and desperation.
“I also think he’s going to give you something in just a few minutes,” Sam said. “Maybe not what you’re looking for. He’s not going to cop to what he did to get blackmailed by Munro. He’s not that desperate yet. But he’ll probably tell you where he saw Neckbeard. He might even tell you about which group wanted Munro dead. He flinched when you said ‘many killers.’ ”
“I saw that.”
Sam wasn’t surprised. “Figured you had. I don’t know if he stabbed Munro, but I doubt it. If he did, he didn’t know about the fingers and toes.”
“I wonder what he did to get blackmailed,” Connor murmured.
“What is his profession?” Sam asked.
“He owns an import/export business. Lots of shipping.”
Sam grunted. “That’s an open door right there.”
They fell silent, watching Daly and his attorney have an animated conversation that they couldn’t hear. Daly’s fists were definitely clenched now. They were in full view, occasionally pounding on the table.