Daylight

by David Baldacci

  “I’m trying to decide if you’re hopelessly naïve or I’m a confirmed cynic.”

  “But you think it’s possible he’s involved somehow?”

  “I think there’s so much money in politics today that anything is possible. Guys like Driscoll are a hot commodity, Atlee. They can be worth billions or even trillions of dollars to certain folks.” He paused. “What do you think someone would do for a trillion bucks?”

  “Anything,” she said. “And looking at it that way I guess we’re fortunate that only three people are dead.”

  “But I think that number is going to go up.”

  “Including you and me? It’s already been a close call for us both, you especially.”

  “From the minute we put on the shield—”

  “—we accepted that possibility,” Pine finished for him.

  “But, again, this is not your case, Atlee. You really should just focus on finding your sister.”

  “Very chivalrous of you to give me such an easy out.”

  “Which you’re not going to take?”

  “My answer is the same as the last time you asked. Let’s go eat. You’re not the only one who’s hungry.”

  CHAPTER

  42

  IT WAS THE HOUR OF NIGHT when most people were already in bed. A marine fog had rolled in off the Hudson and been met by a twin mist burning off the East River. They met in the middle of Manhattan like secret lovers on a nighttime tryst.

  Pine was fully dressed as she gazed out the bedroom window and saw nothing. Any activity going on at street level ten floors below was currently invisible to her.

  She checked her main weapon and her Beretta for the fourth and final time. She moved down to Blum’s bedroom door and listened for a few moments until she heard the woman’s gentle snores. Puller was waiting for her in the front room. He was dressed all in black, and she noted the bulges along his waistline where his twin M11s sat.

  Puller took out his phone and scrolled through some screens. “I’ve had a team of CID agents up here tracking Sands all day and night.”

  “What has he been doing?”

  “Apparently, the twin workloads of being a student at Georgetown and operating a drug ring got to be too much for him. He’s taking some time off from academia to fatten his wallet and expand his market share.”

  “So it’s confirmed that he’s dealing?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “Have we ruled out his father being a partner in all this?” she asked as they stepped into the elevator car and headed down.

  “Not definitively, but from all we could ascertain the guy is legit rich. And he’s a prick for a father, at least to Sands. So I doubt father and son are in this together.”

  A taxi dropped them three blocks from their destination in Brooklyn.

  “It’s a club where Sands hangs out,” explained Puller.

  “What kind of a club?”

  “An expensive one.”

  “You want front or back?” she asked.

  “Up to you.”

  Pine headed to the back.

  She settled in behind a line of dumpsters about twenty yards from the rear exit of the place that was called, simply, the Club.

  Now that’s either really lazy or really ingenious, thought Pine.

  Puller had emailed her a picture of Sands. He was handsome, with an arrogant glaze to his features. He looked like a child of privilege to Pine. But then again, his mother had died while he was a child and his father had abandoned him. Pine could relate to that, but it didn’t absolve the man from the consequences of being a drug dealer.

  A light rain began to fall, and Pine moved back so that she was under the cover of an overhang. She pulled up the collar on her jacket and kept her gaze on the back door of the Club. She stiffened at one A.M. when the door opened and two men stumbled out. But neither one was Sands. They quickly moved off, picking up their pace as the rain came down harder.

  Twenty minutes more passed, and Pine was wondering whether this stakeout would turn out to be a bust when the door opened once more. She stiffened and then relaxed as the woman appeared. She looked to be in her twenties, short, voluptuous, and wearing barely anything at all.

  A moment later Pine came to rigid attention as the man appeared in the doorway and looked around. Jeff Sands then stepped out, smiled, and coiled his hands around the woman. His hands dipped to her buttocks and took up purchase there. They kissed and he maneuvered her back against the wall.

  Pine wasn’t sure she wanted to see what was coming next, until the two men appeared from a darkened corner of the rear of the building. The woman darted away, and it was just Sands and the two gents with pistols pointed at his handsome and now terrified face. He put his hands up and backed away. She could see him pleading with the gunmen, even as she knew these pleas would not cut it. She had already texted a one-word alert to Puller. She slipped out both pistols and moved forward. Her Glock was aimed at one assailant, her Beretta at the other.

  They had backed Sands up to the same wall as he had the woman.

  She would normally call out her presence and FBI authority, but this situation did not ideally allow for it. Rushing silently forward, she clubbed the first man on the back of the head with the butt of her pistol; he dropped to the ground with a yell. The other man whipped around, his gun leveled at her chest. The next moment he was on the ground after being slammed there by Puller, who had rounded the corner and hit the fellow with a full head of steam.

  They quickly disarmed the men and then ordered them to get up.

  The man Pine had clubbed had blood streaming down his face. “I need a doctor,” he screamed.

  “What you need,” said Puller, holding out his shield, “is to start answering questions. Beginning with why you were just about to kill this man.”

  Sands had collapsed against the wall and was panting with tears in his eyes.

  “We weren’t going to kill him,” said the other man, rubbing a bruise on his cheek where it had slammed into the pavement. “We were going to talk to him about some delinquent bills.”

  “And you do that with guns?” said Pine.

  “Mr. Sands usually needs some persuading.”

  Puller took out his phone and punched in a number. “Well, you can explain your technique to NYPD, how about that?”

  “You don’t really want to do that.”

  They turned because this came from Sands, who had regained his composure and was looking at them imploringly. “These are business associates of mine. They really weren’t going to hurt me.”

  “Which I can’t say for you two,” the same man said, rubbing his cheek again.

  Pine said, “Either one of you know Tony Vincenzo?”

  The men glanced at each other until the bleeder said, “Who?”

  Puller put his phone away and looked at Sands, who said, “This has nothing to do with Tony. They don’t know him.”

  Pine turned her attention to him. “But you do?”

  “I know him, yeah,” he said grudgingly.

  Puller glanced at the two men. “Beat it.”

  The men looked in surprise at each other and then hurried off, disappearing into the mist as quietly as they had emerged from it.

  Sands pushed off the wall and straightened out his clothes. “Thanks for the help. I’d buy you a drink, but I have someplace I have to be.”

  Puller hooked him by the arm. “You do have a place to be. Speaking with us. Let’s go.”

  Sands strained against him. “This is a free country and I’ve done nothing wrong. So get your damn hands off me.”

  Pine stepped forward. “Or we can call up your grandfather and let him know what our investigation has uncovered about you.”

  “You think he’d care?” sneered Sands. “Why don’t you call the asshole who happens to be my father and see what you’d get there?”

  “Maybe they won’t be interested, but the police probably will. Those guys weren’t collecting for a chari
ty. How much do you owe them?”

  “Why are you guys giving me such a hard time?”

  Puller remarked, “We know what you’re involved in, Jeff. And people have died. What makes you think you’re special?”

  “Who’s died?”

  “Tony Vincenzo’s father. And a woman named Sheila Weathers.”

  Sands looked panicked. “Sheila! You’re lying. She was just—”

  “Just what? Just at that penthouse the other night? So was I. She’s dead. I saw her body.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “We can take you right now to the morgue to see her corpse. It won’t be pretty because they’ve already autopsied her. I have the report on my phone. You want to see the pictures?”

  Sands shook his head and put a shaky hand to his face. “No . . . I . . .”

  “Let’s go get a cup of coffee. There’s an all-night place right around the corner,” said Puller.

  They walked off into the darkness.

  CHAPTER

  43

  IT TOOK ONE FULL CUP OF COFFEE before Sands would even look up at them.

  The place was a dive, but pleasant enough, and not too crowded at this hour. Both Pine and Puller had kept an eye out for the two men who had gone after Sands. If they were out there, and they probably were, they were good at staying invisible.

  “You want something to eat?” asked Pine, who cradled her coffee and let the steam rise to her face, helping to cut against the rawness outside.

  Sands shook his head, dumped some sugar into the cup the waitress had just refilled, and said, “Sheila was nice.”

  “She told me she was sort of dating Tony.”

  Sands pushed a hand through his thick, tousled hair. He looked like a Kennedy, thought Pine. Handsome, charming, connected, and sometimes getting into serious trouble.

  “I guess she was. But we all hung out.”

  “She worked at Fort Dix, in the commissary,” said Pine. “At least that’s what I was told.”

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  “So why did a girl like that warrant a pass to Billionaires’ Row?”

  “Because I said she could. Same as Tony.”

  “Same as Lindsey Axilrod?”

  “Lindsey? Why are you mentioning her?”

  “Because she was the one who set me and Sheila up. She helped whoever killed Sheila.”

  “No way, I don’t believe that,” he said heatedly. “Lindsey’s cool. She wouldn’t do something like that.”

  “And how do you know Lindsey?” asked Pine.

  “We . . . we just met. The way people do.”

  “Why do I think she sought you out?” said Pine.

  “Why would she do that? She’s just an IT worker at Fort Dix.”

  “I went to the penthouse with Lindsey. She got in because of her connection to Tony. Or at least I thought that then. She pointed out Sheila to me there. We arranged to meet with her later. Lindsey and I were getting into what I thought was an Uber that Lindsey ordered. The next thing I remember I was waking up next to a dead Sheila, and Lindsey was nowhere to be seen.”

  “Maybe they got her, too.”

  “No, I later went to her house. No one answered my knocks, so I called the cops to do a welfare check. When they got there she spoke to them through a doorbell camera setup and told a bullshit story about her mother being ill and her having to go out of town. She never mentioned what happened that night. She’s in this up to her eyeballs. And she’s not just an IT person. She fooled me and she apparently fooled you.”

  Puller put his coffee down and leaned forward. “So what exactly is going on, Jeff?”

  Sands looked nervously at him. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “The truth would be really good.”

  “How’d you even find out about me?”

  Puller said, “I had a talk with your godmother. She was very worried about you. She asked me to check on you. So here I am, checking on you.” He paused. “She really does care for you, Jeff.”

  “Yeah, I know Aunt Gloria does. She’s really the only one, after my mom died,” he added miserably.

  “Lots of people have shitty lives, Jeff,” said Pine. “But you’re young, you’ve got money, unless those clothes you’re wearing are knockoffs. You’re attending one of the best colleges in America.”

  “I got in because of who my grandfather is, that’s the only reason. I didn’t even want to go, but he insisted. He said I had to make something of myself.”

  “Maybe he genuinely means it.”

  Sands chuckled.

  “What’s the joke?” asked Pine.

  “The only thing he’s ‘genuinely’ concerned about is that I might do something to mess up his good name.”

  “I heard that he plans to retire after his term is up,” pointed out Puller.

  “He’s also planning to join this big-ass lobbying firm to fund his golden years. Anything messes that up, he’s SOL.”

  “I thought members of Congress had to wait before they could lobby the government,” said Pine.

  “The way it was explained to me, he won’t be directly lobbying anyone. But a wink, a nod, a phone call, a whispered word. That shit’s easy to get around. It’s why they wrote the law that way. To make it look like they were doing something positive, only there are holes in it big enough to drive a semi through.”

  “You seem to have checked that out pretty thoroughly,” noted Puller.

  “I like to know what I’m dealing with,” said Sands.

  “Meaning what exactly?”

  “Meaning exactly what I just said.”

  “So would drug dealing qualify as besmirching the family’s reputation?” asked Pine.

  “Who says I’m dealing drugs?”

  “You say you’re not?”

  “No, I’ll just sit here and confess to two feds. You want it in writing or is verbal okay?”

  Puller leaned in even further. “I’m going to tell you something and I want your opinion, all right?”

  Sands looked surprised by this but nodded. “Okay.”

  “Tony Vincenzo is a pill maker. That’s beyond doubt. I’ve got two of his stooges cooling their heels in the stockade at Fort Dix. Plus, we found a ton of evidence at his dad’s old home. That’s the first point. The second point is we have encountered extraordinary opposition from both state and federal platforms to our investigation. My question to you: Why would a run-of-the-mill drug op trigger so many players on the other side with the intent of burying the truth?”

  Sands took a sip of coffee before answering. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s not a run-of-the-mill drug operation.”

  “So is that penthouse on Billionaires’ Row a heroin silo or what?”

  “No, that’s just a playpen, a perk for the faithful.”

  Pine noted that Sands’s despair had faded and his confidence bolstered as the conversation had veered to this topic. But his features betrayed that maybe he had said too much.

  “Then you must be one of the faithful. So tell us, where do you direct that faith?” asked Pine.

  Sands leaned forward. “I don’t want any part of this, okay?”

  “Do you want part of prison?” said Puller.

  “You have no proof of anything.”

  “I’ve got witnesses ready to rat your ass out, Sands.”

  “Who?”

  “You really think I’m going to tell you that?”

  “You’re bluffing. You’ve got nothing.”

  “Then walk out of here right now,” said Pine. “There’s the door. Keep in mind, they got to a guy in a federal prison. Keep in mind they got to your friend, Sheila. Keep in mind that Lindsey is in on it and she strikes me as a ‘survive at all costs’ kind of gal. So now that you’ve been seen with us, how long do you think you have?”

  “You’re trying to scare me.”

  “I’m giving you facts. If the facts scare you, so be it.”

  Sands glanced at the door. “You
’d really just let me walk out of here?”

  “Sure,” said Puller. “But before you go, you have any idea where Tony Vincenzo is?”

  “No. I haven’t seen him in about a week.”

  “And how do you know him? You didn’t say.”

  “We met a while back. Hung out. He’s cool.”

  “And why do you have access to the penthouse if you’re not contributing to the cause?” said Pine. “It didn’t strike me as a freebie sort of place. What’s the price of admission?”

  Sands shrugged and stared down at his coffee.

  “You can understand our skepticism that you’re clean, Jeff, right?” said Puller. “Do you know who owns that penthouse?”

  “No.”

  “Who told you about it? Who said you could go there?”

  “Some guys. I forget their names.”

  “I doubt they’ll forget yours. Well, I think we’re done here, Jeff. Have a nice life, however short it might be.”

  Puller rose, and Pine did likewise. Sands looked up at them.

  “You’re just going to leave me here by myself?”

  Puller looked at Pine and then said, “You said you’re clean, we have no grounds to hold you. What do you expect us to do? You said before you had someplace to go. So go.”

  They moved toward the door.

  “Look, hey, guys.”

  They turned back.

  A pale Sands, the jauntiness struck clean from him, rose and joined them. “I don’t want to die, okay?”

  “So what do you do about it?” said Pine. “Because the only way we can help you is if you help us. You’re a college boy. You’re smart enough to grasp that concept.”

  Sands glanced nervously around. A few of the customers were staring at him. “Can we go somewhere and talk about this? Maybe we can figure something out.”

  “Sure,” said Puller as he laid some cash down for their coffees. He gripped Sands by the arm and nodded at Pine. “Check the back. We can’t take any chances with him.”

  Pine cautiously exited out the back door, and did a recon of the area behind the restaurant. Her gaze took in all sectors, sight lines, and hiding places. Satisfied, she crept back to the door and called out, “Clear.”