Chapter 34

“I don’t answer questions,” I said for the umpteenth time.

Handcuffed to a metal table in a tiny room with a one-way mirror, I faced a pair of aggressive cops. Only one of them was able to speak English coherently, despite some level of fluency in the language being near ubiquitous in big cities like Manila.

Whatever tactic they’d been hoping to employ, it seemed that I was frustrating them.

“You don’t seem to understand your position, Sheffield,” the English-speaking one said, his voice a low growl. “Sexual exploitation and sexual extortion are not crimes we take lightly. Especially when foreigners,” he said the word with enough disgust that I believed he might not like me, “commit them.”

I continued to sit quietly, doing my best to keep my demeanor completely neutral.

He hit the table, causing a racket as the wobbly thing rattled. “That’s not to mention the bribery, embezzlement, and insider trading. You’re not going to a cushy American prison, Sheffield. We’re going to put you away for a long time, and we know how degenerates like you should be treated.”

I laughed.

His partner slammed both his palms onto the table and yelled something in his native language. He stopped being able to startle me with that move the third time he pulled it. This was the eighth or ninth now.

“What’s so funny, Sheffield?” the other asked once his partner’s tirade was over. “You think I’m bluffing?”

“I don’t answer questions.”

He grabbed me by the collar and pulled me over the table until his face was right next to mine. “It doesn’t matter how rich you are, you piece of shit. We’ve got you dead to rights and—”

The interphone screeched, then communicated something in Tagalog. The cop let go of me and pushed me back onto my rickety, uncomfortable chair. They left the room without another word, though both threw me the stink eye before going.

Several minutes later, a very sweaty Baluyot, the lawyer I was retaining for Tala’s brother, entered the room. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been at the station for, but certainly over two hours. Enough time for Baluyot to hurry from Manila, at least.

“What did you tell them?” he asked in perfectly fluent English with a British accent.

“So when you wouldn’t speak English last time, it was just to fuck with me?”

He’d only spoken Tagalog when I last saw him. I’d only spoken with the man through either Rosita or Mayu, and even now Tala was his point of contact.

He simply stared at me, unamused, sitting down and pulling out a sheaf of papers which he examined. “What did you tell them?” he eventually said.

“That I don’t answer questions.”

“And only that?”

I nodded.

“Good. You’ve been accused of a litany of crimes, mostly sexual and financial in nature,” he said. “The sexual accusations were anonymous, but your alleged crimes against Texas Instruments are under the accusations of one Adam Johanson and one John Roberts. Both colleagues of yours.”

Roberts was involved too, then. Well, that was ultimately a good thing, because the media nuke I unleashed was definitely going to catch him in the radius of destruction. If it hadn’t already.

“Your company’s lawyers have begun to take action against you, but they’ve become deadlocked by...” He narrowed his eyes at me from over his documents. “ ... several back-to-back scandals that conveniently hit the headlines of several national and local news organizations. Including one which saw the head of the Texas Instruments legal department, Ezekiel Souza, arrested for fraud. I’m sure you know nothing about that, though.”

I only smiled. His eyes shifted back to his papers.

“As a result, Roberts, Johanson, Souza and several others have been placed under arrest.” The man selected some of the documents and placed them on the table before going back to his reading. “This was performed over the heads of local police departments, under the orders of the Prosecutor General himself. Someone has friends in high places...”

I chuckled. He didn’t seem amused.

“I’ve heard that there is solid evidence for their crimes. It was collected by an investigative journalist, Angelo ‘Gallo’ Ramos.” He scrutinized me again, only to find the same pleasant smile. “Many other outlets released ... less solid evidence. But more outrageous. The public is in quite an uproar. A fortunate coincidence, I’m sure.”

“This all makes the truth of the accusations against you somewhat dubious in nature.” He cleared his throat and put his papers down. “If your coworkers’ charges are held, I’ll get you out of whatever financial crime charges the state or Texas Instruments choose to leverage against you, if any.”

“And the other charges?” I asked. “Those are somehow even more absurd.”

“The sexual crimes charges are trickier.” He adjusted his reading glasses. “I was able to dig up hearsay that there is video proof of these crimes. Eyewitnesses and victims as well. I don’t know much more yet, but I’ll keep you updated.”

“None of that is real,” I said.