Cho pulled up a chair and sat down, leaning her elbows on her knees.

“We have him cold on the burglary,” Cho said, pointing at the monitor showing the digital playback.

“The camera from your neighbor’s garage caught his license plate perfectly at three in the morning.”

“He panicked the moment you brought him in, didn’t he?” I asked.

“He is terrified of his mother, but he is more terrified of a cell,” Cho said.

Through the glass, the detective was showing Gareth a printout of the bank transfers.

Gareth shrank back into his chair, shaking his head.

“I didn’t want to do it,” Gareth’s voice came through the speaker, high and strained.

“She told me the port authority wouldn’t check the physical site for another two years.”

“Your mother told you that?” the detective asked.

“Yes,” Gareth sobbed.

“She said the inspectors were taken care of.”

I watched his face, pale and sweaty under the harsh fluorescent lights.

He was a weak link, and Eleanor knew it.

“Are you going to charge him?” I asked Cho.

“We have enough to hold him on the break-in,” Cho said.