“There are multiple arrest warrants for you, Mr. Desheriyev, in multiple countries, correct?”
“Da. There are now.” Desheriyev seemed proud. “No one know who I was before this. I was ghost.”
His rifle ballistics had matched a dozen unsolved murders across Europe. As soon as the FBI identified him as the owner of the rifle, Interpol came forward with a flood of warrants and requests for extradition following his trial.
“And these warrants are for murders you are suspected of carrying out?”
Ballard gritted his teeth, but stayed seated.
“Yes.” Again, Desheriyev seemed proud. He smiled.
“Is it fair to say that you lived one step ahead of the law? Covering your tracks? Hiding?”
“Yes, yes. I fool the police all the time.”
“And, you knew that if you were caught, the gig would be up?”
Desheriyev frowned.
“You knew if you were caught, it would all come out, right?” Renner pressed again. “I mean, how long could you run from everything?”
Ballard tensed, ready to rise. Desheriyev answered, his eyes narrowing. “I was never suppose to be caught.”
“But you were.”
“Da,” Desheriyev growled. He turned a murderous glare on Kryukov, who refused to look back at him.
“What did you think would happen to you if you were captured one day?”
Desheriyev shrugged. “Depends which country I get caught in. In Russia, torture. Probably die in prison. In Europe, I would be given private apartment and they call it a jail.” He grinned widely.
“But, Europe would also speedily extradite you to Russia, would they not?”
He glowered. “Is possible.”
“How fortunate then that you were captured here.” Renner spread his hands, smiling. “We don’t like to extradite to Russia, for exactly those reasons, unless someone isn’t being very helpful or cooperative. We don’t believe in torturing people. But, we do have the death penalty.” He stared at Desheriyev. “You seem like a guy who likes to survive. Did you cooperate with the prosecution in order to avoid both the death penalty and the possibility of extradition to Russia?”
Desheriyev, for the first time, shifted uncomfortably. He glanced to Ballard, as if hoping for escape via an objection. None came. “Da,” he growled.
“And your deal, like all deals, was contingent on providing the state with information to further their case, was it not?”
“Yes.”
“So you were powerfully motivated to provide information that the prosecution could use to arrest another individual and charge them with this crime?”
“Da. Yes.”
Ballard tensed again. Tom watched his jaw clench, his temple throb.
“Motivated enough to lie?”
“Objection!” Ballard, jumping up. “This question is abusive in its insinuations.”
“‘Your Honor’.” Tom stared hard at Ballard. “You seem to be forgetting something, counselor. More than once.”
Ballard just stared. Tom arched his eyebrows. The courtroom shifted, whispers passing from lips to ears.
“Your Honor,” Renner said smoothly. “I am probing the witness’s veracity and honesty which gets to the heart of the case against my client. Mr. Desheriyev’s cooperation with the prosecution is the basis of the prosecution’s case. The court has an obligation to uncover whether Mr. Desheriyev told the truth.”