“What happened?”
“You had a dog back then, a lab named Molly.”
“I don’t remember a dog,” she said.
“Well, you were very young, Atlee. Anyway, the dog barked and woke up your parents. Your father kept a shotgun. He fired at the intruders and managed to scare them off. The decision was made to move you the very next day to a temporary safe house pending the readiness of a more permanent location.”
“And where did that turn out to be?”
“Colorado. It was rural and any strangers in town would be instantly noticed. We really thought it would work.”
“But it obviously didn’t. What happened?” she asked.
“This time it wasn’t a home invasion. It was an attempted car-jacking. They ran you off the road. It was only by the grace of God that two state troopers were coming the other way. They intervened and saved you and your family. One of the carjackers managed to get away. The other was killed after a shootout with the troopers.”
“Did they manage to ID him?”
Lineberry said, “They did. He was Giovanni Colletti, part of a Colorado-based crime family. We obviously couldn’t interrogate him, but we did subsequently learn that a contract had been put out on your family by one of the Mafia families that had been destroyed by your mother’s work.”
“Okay, the big question becomes: How did they keep finding out where we were? There had to be a leak, Jack. And it kept leaking.”
“A fact we were well aware of. But we took every precaution, dug through the background of everyone who knew about your relocations. We could find nothing, no common denominator that would lead us to the mole. We constantly changed personnel, so that the inner circle was different, so that those who knew the most were limited. It was the most puzzling and infuriating phase of my career. After Colorado, the decision was made to take you out of witness protection and move you to Andersonville, Georgia. I was assigned there to personally look over you and keep you safe.” He paused to clear his throat once more. “I clearly failed at that.” A single cough followed this last comment, and then turned into a series of wracking ones.
“Jack, are you all right?”
As the spasm subsided, he said, “I’m fine. Just . . . tired.”
“Look, you clearly need to rest, but can I ask you a favor?”
His tone instantly became alert. “Certainly. Anything.”
“Can you provide me with information about who was in the loop with my family’s experience back then? I mean, anyone you can remember, no matter how attenuated their connection was?”
“Atlee, a lot of them are long since retired or even dead.”
“I still would like to go over them.”
“I don’t see the purpose.”
“Then I’ll tell you. Ito Vincenzo came to Georgia. He tried to kill me, and he took my sister. Whoever leaked our locations in Ohio and Colorado did the same in Georgia. That person must have communicated either with Bruno or Ito or someone close to them. If I can find that person, they may lead me to Ito.”
Silence followed for a few moments.
Lineberry said, “I’ll see what I can do. But I’ve been long since removed from that world. My contacts are largely no longer viable.”
“If you run into obstacles, call me and I’ll see what I can do to help,” she said. “I told you back in Georgia that we had to try to do this together. And I haven’t changed my mind.”
“And sometimes dredging up the past can be more devastating than people realize.”
“I need to know the truth. And I need to find my sister, and your daughter, Jack! Ito is really the only connection I have right now.”
“He may not even be alive,” said Lineberry.
“No one has seen him since 2001, apparently. But that’s not proof that he’s dead. Until I know that for sure, I have to keep looking for him.”
“It’s quite ominous that Teddy Vincenzo was murdered right after speaking to you. You don’t think . . . ” Lineberry’s voice trailed off.
“No. I don’t think it’s connected to my case. I think Tony Vincenzo was into something far more serious than simply drug dealing. And I think he told his father. And his father paid the price.”
“Then Tony Vincenzo is a target as well.”
“And I just hope we find him before the people who killed Teddy do,” replied Pine.
CHAPTER
20
A SMILING PINE SAID, “John Puller, Carol Blum.”
Puller shook Blum’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Carol. I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”
They were standing in the lobby of Pine and Blum’s hotel. It was the following day, and the weather had turned chilly and rainy.
Blum stared up at the tall, ramrod-straight, and good-looking Puller. “I can say the same about you, Agent Puller.”
Pine said, “Let’s grab a coffee and talk about our next steps.”
They followed her into the small café off the lobby and ordered coffees. Then they took their drinks over to an empty seating area, sat down, and looked at one another.
“How’s your case coming?” asked Puller.
“We’ve learned a few new things but we’re still trying to gain some traction. My priority is to find Ito Vincenzo. I spoke with someone who might be able to help me find out what happened to him, but it’s a long shot. So let’s talk about your case. If that will lead me to Ito faster that’s where I need to go.”
“Meaning Tony might know where his grandfather is?” said Puller.
“It’s the reason we came to Trenton in the first place.”
Puller nodded. “Well, I can’t say I’m gaining much traction, either. I tried again, but the Trenton police have now completely closed me off from the investigation. I can’t see any reports. I can’t talk to the cop who shot Jerome Blake. They have closed ranks and left me on the outside.”
“You said the Bureau of Prisons guy, Moss, warned you off. Maybe he talked to the Trenton folks and told them to stonewall you.”
“I’m not surprised that Moss might have told the Trenton folks to stand down, particularly after he had that meeting with me. I’m just wondering why the Trenton folks are going along with it. It clearly stinks of a cover-up.”
“And how about your side?” asked Blum.
“Disappointing because there’s been very little support. And I don’t expect that to change. There’s a hush coming from the uniforms that I don’t understand. I expected someone to show some backbone, but it’s extraordinary how they all seemed to have fallen in line.” He paused, his gaze rooted on his knees. “It’s not the Army way to just stand aside meekly when an injustice is being done. Why the hell do we even wear the uniform or take an oath?”
“Preaching to the choir. But let’s talk about the shooting that killed Agent McElroy,” said Pine.
Puller looked up at her. “It clearly wasn’t a gang thing, as you’ve shown. I’m not even convinced Blake fired the shot. If not, who did? And was Ed even the target? Or was it you and/or me, as we discussed before?”
“Or was he the target but only as a warning to us to back off the case?” suggested Pine.
“All good points,” interjected Blum. “But if they were willing to kill a federal agent in cold blood? The reasons to do so must be quite something. And so would having such a broad conspiracy to cover everything up.”
Pine said, “Teddy Vincenzo told us his son had gotten in way over his head. So maybe we’re not just talking about a basic pill-mill operation. There could be more to it. A lot more to it. Could it be that the folks behind the drug ring have political connections high up?”
“I guess that’s possible because there’s definitely something weird going on,” agreed Puller.
“You said they wouldn’t let you talk to the cop who shot Blake?” said Pine.
“That’s right. I didn’t even get his name.”
“You said Tony had military personnel involved in the scheme?”
&nbs
p; “Yes.”
“Have you arrested any of them?”
“Two. Bill Danforth and Phil Cassidy. They’re sitting in a holding cell right now at Fort Dix.”
“Not the prison part of Fort Dix?” said Pine.
“No. What happened to Teddy Vincenzo is not going to happen to them. They’re being held by the Army in a secure facility nowhere near the prison. MPs handpicked by me are guarding them.”
“I assume you’ve interrogated Danforth and Cassidy.”
“Until they both asked for military counsel,” said Puller. “Once they lawyered up, the interrogation stopped.”
“In that regard I guess military law isn’t that much different from civilian law,” noted Blum. “My son is an MP. Stationed in California.”
Puller nodded. “Not an easy job. And it’s good of him to serve his country. And yes there are similarities, but the Uniform Code of Military Justice can be an odd-looking bird to outsiders. Soldiers take an oath. Consequently, we hold them to a higher standard than laws do with civilians. Burdens of proof and punishments can be very different. Now, in this case charges have already been handed down. Danforth and Cassidy will both be up for general court-martials. No way this is being dealt with through an Article 15.” Puller glanced at Pine and Blum. “Sorry, I tend to automatically fall into military jargon. Article 15 allows the soldier’s commanding officer, or CO, to punish personnel for minor offenses without need for a trial. It’s like a civil action, although it lands in their record and can impede their careers, promotions, and the like. But drug dealing is not a minor offense. And we have all the evidence we need to get convictions. They’re looking at long prison sentences.”
“Then they may want to cut a deal,” said Pine.
“I’ll cut deals so long as I get the big players behind this. If I’m allowed to do so,” he added.
“Did you ever talk to Danforth and Cassidy about the possibility of a deal?” asked Blum.
“Not yet. My plan was to get that authority and go after them hard to give us names further up the line. Right now, everything’s in limbo since they lawyered up.”
“Can we speak to the prisoners if their counsel is present, or is the military different on that, too?” asked Pine.
“No, we can. I’ll make a call and try to set it up. But don’t get your hopes up. Everything about this case is screwed up.”
“I would suppose they have every incentive to make a deal to lessen their punishment,” said Blum.
Puller glanced at Pine before saying, “But they also have one very important reason to keep quiet.”
“Namely, what happened to Teddy Vincenzo might happen to them,” said Pine.
Her phone buzzed. It was her contact at the Trenton FBI office, Rick Davies.
She answered it, and Davies said, “I’m sending you a photo that I got from a cop bud of mine who knows someone assigned to the case. It’s the gun that was used to kill the CID agent.”
“Okay.”
“And I’ve learned that there were six surveillance cameras in the area in question. I believe the cops have grabbed all of them, but I couldn’t verify that. I’m sending you the locations of each one in case you want to check them out.”
“That’s great, Rick, thanks.”
She clicked off, explained to Puller what was going on, and waited for the email to pop into her queue. When it did she opened it and looked at the photo of the gun.
She caught a breath and glanced up at Puller.
“What?” he said.
“That’s not the gun Jerome Blake was holding.”
CHAPTER
21
THE POLICE PRESENCE HAD GONE, the only remnants being yellow police crime scene tape flapping in the wind. With the rain and wind there were few pedestrians brave enough to be outside.
Their umbrellas braced against the brisk breeze, Puller, Blum, and Pine looked around the area where the shooting had taken place. In the daytime it seemed far different to Pine, larger and more complex. That night it had seemed like a long, narrow tunnel with very little life present. She eyed the alleyway.
“Puller, where’d you learn to jump across buildings like that?” she asked, while Blum hiked an eyebrow at this odd remark.
“Ranger School,” he said off-handedly before adding, “You’re sure it wasn’t the right gun?”
She glared at him. “Blake was holding a Glock 26 subcompact. The gun in the picture is a full-sized Glock 26 with a black stainless steel slide.”
“I didn’t get a good look at it, like you did. And it was dark in that alley,” cautioned Puller. “And the gun frames look alike.”
“I know my weapons,” retorted Pine. “Somebody switched guns. This was all a setup and they used Blake as the scapegoat.”
Puller said, “But you have to have extra muscle in very high places to pull off something like this.”
“And I think we’ve seen clearly that they do,” said Pine. She thumbed her phone screen until a new page appeared. “Six locations for surveillance cameras,” she said. “Let’s start knocking on doors.”
Two banks, a laundromat, a pawnbroker’s shop, a convenience store, and an office supply store later, they found that all the footage from that night had already been confiscated as evidence by local police.
Pine, Puller, and Blum stood on the sidewalk outside the pawn-broker’s shop in the driving rain, determining what their next steps might be.
“They worked extremely fast taking all the camera feeds,” said Puller. “That leaves us with zip video for that night.”
“And it’s doubtful they’re going to actually use it as evidence,” said Blum.
“More likely they’ll bury it in a landfill,” said Puller.
“People were around during the shooting,” noted Pine. “Maybe someone took video on their phones. That happens all the time these days.”
“Do we return later tonight and start asking around?”
“Well, right now, we could go back to the place where we ate. Someone who worked there might have seen something. We were standing right out in front of it when McElroy was shot.”
They headed over to the Italian restaurant. They sat at a booth and ordered some food. Pine recognized the waitress from when they had been there before and called her over. She was in her twenties, with light brown hair, sharp blue eyes, and a slim figure.
Puller and Pine showed the young woman their badges and asked her about the shooting.
The waitress, whose name tag read DAWN, instantly became rigid. Her blue eyes grew wide. “That’s right. You two were here that night.” She glanced outside. “It was horrible. I mean, this is a nice neighborhood. We’ve never had a murder right outside.”
“Can you tell us what you saw?” asked Puller, taking out his notepad.
Pine interjected, “And have the local police been by to talk to anyone here?”
“Not that I know of.”
Pine and Puller exchanged a look. Puller said, “So anything you can remember, no matter how trivial it may seem.”
She pulled up a chair and sat down. Glancing out the window again she said, “I heard some pops. Like firecrackers, only it’s not July.”
“Right,” said Pine. “Then what?”
“I ran over to the window and saw the two of you and the man . . . he was lying on the pavement by then.”
“Did you see where the shots came from?” asked Puller. “Or the shooter?”
She shook her head. “I was just looking at the body. It was . . . ” She paused. “I did see something, in the alley across the way.”
“What was that?” asked Pine.
“It was something, a flash of something, maybe a person turning and running.”
“In which direction?” asked Puller.
“Back into the alley, I think.” She looked up at them with a hopeless expression. “I . . . I’m sorry, I just can’t be sure.”
Puller drew a photo from his pocket. “Did you see this person that night
?”
It was a picture of Jerome Blake.
Dawn studied it and then shook her head. “No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.” She looked out the window again. “They must have cameras out there. You could check those.”
Pine explained, “We tried that. They . . . weren’t available.”
“Well, you could check with Karl.”
“Karl?” said Blum.
“He’s one of the short-order cooks here.”
“Why would he know anything?” asked Pine.
“Karl lives in the building next door to this one. There’s a fire escape overlooking the alley on this side. He’s had two break-ins into his apartment in the last year, both through the fire escape. So he put one of those camera things out there. You know, it notifies him if there’s any movement there. But it’s pointed in a way that it might have filmed what happened across the street.”
“Do you know where Karl is now?” asked Puller.
“Probably home. His shift starts at five and runs to midnight.”
They paid for their food and had Dawn give Karl a call to verify he was home and that they were coming over to check the camera feed.
As they headed out for the short walk Pine looked at Puller. “Could this be the big break in the case?”
“I’m not sure even a smoking gun would be enough. It’s not that sort of a case, apparently.”
“But we have to get to the truth.”
“Only reason I signed up for the job.”
“Me too.”
“Count me in on that,” chimed in Blum.
CHAPTER
22
THERE IT IS,” said Pine, pointing up at the second-floor fire escape landing where a small camera was attached to one of the support posts. It covered the entire fire escape outside the window and looked like it would also have a sight line to the alley across the street.
They continued on into the building and took the steps up to the third floor, then went down the hall to apartment 311.
Karl Shaffer was in his late forties, balding, grizzled, and tired looking. He seemed a man who had looked at life and life had looked back at him, and neither had been satisfied by what they had seen.
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