Page 105 of I’ll Be Watching You

He looked from me to Jack, who gave him the stern cop face that never got old when we interrogated someone. Tim quickly looked back at me.

“Peter Stockman,” he said, his voice low. “He had a list of flagged files. If anyone asked about them, I needed to make them disappear, then tell him.”

“You told Peter that Liz Swanson had asked about Novak’s records?” I said, my blood boiling.

He nodded. “I didn’t think—I didn’t know he would kill her! I thought . . . hell, I don’t know. I did one thing—only one thing!—a few years ago, and I knew it was wrong, but . . . but . . . but he said it was to protect the integrity of the VA.”

“What did he ask you to do?”

“I need a lawyer, I think.”

“We’re not cops,” I snapped. “We’re private investigators. What did he ask you to do?” I wasn’t going to let him clam up out of fear he was going to get in trouble. He was in trouble, we weren’t going to let this go, but I needed the information now, not in days or weeks after an investigation I had no part of.

“Dr. Klein had committed medical malpractice. It came out after he was killed, and Peter asked me to delete certain encounters listed in some patient records. It was to protect the VA. It . . . it made sense the way he explained it, so I did it. I mean, yes, unethical, but it would have been worse if everyone knew that Dr. Klein had committed malpractice. People could have sued, and it would have landed on my uncle. Uncle Zach is a great guy—he didn’t deserve to lose his job! Not for something he had no part of.”

That really sounded like a line that Peter Stockman fed him.

“That’s what Stockman said would happen?”

“Yeah, and he told me about a case out in DC where a totally innocent guy had to resign and he lost his pension because of what a doctor did on his watch.”

I didn’t know whether to believe him, but it had a ring of truth. Find someone’s weak spot and exploit it.

Like Peter Stockman had exploited the love my dad had for his family by threatening us and thereby forcing him to plead guilty.

“Did he pay you?” I asked.

“Not for that. I don’t think?”

“You don’t know?” Jack snapped.

“After that, he put me on retainer for his, um, he had a private consulting business. And I, um, helped with his IT issues?”

“Is that a question or did you help him?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm and reasonable when what I really wanted to do was slap this idiot. He couldn’t be this stupid.

“Yes,” he said. “Minor stuff. But yeah, I did some work for him.”

“How much?”

“A couple hours a month.”

“How much did he pay you?”

“Three thousand a month for, um, the last three years.”

“For a couple hours a month work and you didn’t think it was a bribe?” I said in disbelief.

Jack cleared his throat and said, “And then he told you that if anyone asked about those specific records to delete them and let him know?”

Tim nodded. “Yes, exactly, I swear to God.” He crossed his heart as if he was a child.

Dumb. Ass.

Jack said, “Tim, you are going to voluntarily turn yourself in to the FBI. You will ask to speak to Special Agent Quincy Truman in the Phoenix office and tell him exactly what you told us. If you remember any other details, you will include those details. If you do this, there is a good chance you can negotiate for probation. But you’re going to have to come clean, completely clean.”

“Do I need a lawyer?”

I didn’t want to tell him yes, but my conscience got the best of me. “You should get one,” I said. “To protect your rights and negotiate the terms of a deal. A good lawyer will most likely get you probation, if you are completely honest and assist in the investigation. But don’t delay, Tim. Because if you hedge, we’re not going to bat for you. You now know that Stockman is a murder suspect, and if you cover it up, you are an accessory.”