Silas had been sitting in the same chair for some time, with his hands resting on the table in front of him and the noise of the IRS facility passing through the walls around him.
A door opened somewhere down the corridor. A phone rang in another room. Officers moved in and out, speaking quietly as they went about their work. Every sound reminded him that he was no longer in control of where he went or who he spoke to.
He had already accepted that much.
The charges were serious. The investigation had reached places that his lawyers could not simply make disappear. Even the favors he had arranged before his arrest were becoming less useful now that the people around him were being questioned and the money connected to his old operations was being examined.
There was a time when Silas would have spent every waking hour looking for a way out.
That time had passed.
What remained was the question of who had done this.
His men had already reported everything they had found.
