by David Bishop
“Hi, Madeline Jane. Just wanted to let you know Ryan Testler is here. He and Bradley are out in the backyard. Our boy likes this man. So do I Madeline Jane. Ryan is not one of your polished yuppie types. This guy’s a real man. You won’t catch him wearing no tuxedo.”
“Mother, I know daddy hated ‘em, but a man looks good in a tuxedo. For the right occasion, of course.”
“Like a wedding?”
“That’s absurd, Mother. I barely know the man.”
“He’s out back playing catch with your son. You’ve brought him home to meet your mother. Absurd? I don’t think so.”
“Mother. I’m in the middle of something here. Crime, you know? It’s my beat.”
* * *
After Ryan again showed Brad the proper grip for the slider, he told him to be sure he threw it just like his fastball. Brad threw about 20 or so before heading down the street to show his friends. Before running out the side gate, he hugged Ryan. After the boy left, Ryan shared an iced tea with Rita. They spoke about cooking with virgin olive oil. Rita had a new bottle sitting on the kitchen counter. Then Ryan excused himself. He didn’t want to be late getting into position for when Brad’s mother would attempt to take Benny Gibbons into custody.
* * *
After Maddie hung up from talking with her mother and listening to her absurd ideas about Ryan Testler becoming a member of the family, she walked back into Lieutenant Harrison’s office.
“Benjamin Gibbons, the military guy I told you about the other day,” the lieutenant had a look that suggested his mind was on some other case. Maddie offered more. “The former boyfriend of Carla Roth, the RN who lives next door to the Crawford.” The lieutenant’s expression eased, he nodded. “I just got off the phone with an undercover federal agent who confirms that Gibbons is a trained sniper, a stone cold killer. The agent said Gibbons told him he pulled the trigger on Sam Crawford. The agent, who must stay in his deep cover, told me where Gibbons lives and when he’ll be there. I’ll face up to get his door open. I’ll need several tried and true ready to storm the barricade as soon as it clears the latch. Also a few spare officers to keep any civilians from walking into the middle of it. We need a search warrant for weapons, computer files, paperwork, et cetera, related to his being hired. Can you get that arranged?”
Lieutenant Harrison nodded. “I want to hear how you’re going to get the door opened?”
“How else? I get to play a hooker again, sir. All I need to do is figure out how to start getting paid first, before the squad moves in.”
Adam Harrison smiled. “You think you’re the only officer who can play this role or you got a fetish for this kind of thing?”
“It’s my thing, Lieutenant. I got a reputation involved here, pride in my work, all that sort of crap. This could be my backup profession. In case I get tired of you chauvinist dicks, I can trade you all in for dicks that pay.”
* * *
“Hey, Sergeant Richards, you look hot,” Sue Martin said when Maddie came out of her office as a blond hooker wearing an outfit that had stayed at the station after the last time she played a similar gig several months back when she applied for work at an escort service. The yellow wraparound dress featuring her cleavage still fit, as did the black, patent-leather platform heels which now twinkled in the department’s fluorescent lighting. Sue had shaken a limp hand while looking at Maddie.
“Do you wear platforms, Sue? Man, these things are rough on your feet. Make me think I’m about to tip forward.”
“I do some. You gotta stand tall. They take some getting used to. I usually wear them around the house for twenty, thirty minutes before I head out the door. Wearing them makes me eager to get on my back. Naturally, you understand, that’s just to get off them infernal shoes.”
“But then you’re eager to get on your back anyway, girl.”
Sue laughed. “Let’s keep that to ourselves. I don’t want the boys to think they don’t need to buy dinner and flowers. Now we going flaunting or are we out to catch us a bad guy?”
“We’re taking down Bennie Gibbons. You ready?”
Sue Martin smiled. “All in a night’s work, Sergeant.”
By the time Maddie and Sue got to Harrison’s office, the lieutenant was huddled with the SWAT team leader, Tony Rodriguez, known in police circles as Rocky.
The lieutenant looked up. “Rocky has selected six of his own to accompany you and Detective Martin, and me. I’m going along too, Sergeant. Given the resume on this Ben Gibbons, this could get ugly. If it goes that way, I need to be there in case we have to quickly cut through any red tape. You okay with this, Sergeant?”
“Glad to have you, Lieutenant.”
“Okay, let’s you and me palaver with Rocky to determine approach and set up. We’ll want to arrive ready to do this fast. Reduce the chance the target will learn or maybe even feel we’re coming for him.”
The SWAT team had one woman and five men. Maddie had seen them all around the station and, over the years, had worked with them on a few takedowns. But she didn’t have a close relationship with any of them so there were no wise cracks coming at her, other than those said by their eyes as they looked her over before glancing at each other.
After discussing some alternatives, they all agreed on the route they would take to get there, where they could park to be close, but not overly conspicuous, and where they would set up on the property itself. Then they left. They kept it to two vehicles. Lieutenant Harrison rode with the SWAT team while Maddie and Sue went in the unmarked police car they drove regularly on duty. The plan would get them to the property at 9:40 p.m. with Maddie at Gibbon’s door by 9:50.
* * *
“Excuse me, miss,” Lieutenant Harrison said as he stepped from the shadows near the parking structure and approached a lovely blonde with generous cleavage. The blonde stopped as the lieutenant reached her, a questioning look on her face.
“I’m Bennie, the lieutenant said, as he moved close. You’re heading up to my apartment right? Number seventeen.”
Her face showed she likely felt uncomfortable being met in the parking lot. She nodded, and then said, “So?”
“I’ve got something to show you.” Harrison took out his wallet and showed his badge. “You’re in no trouble. You will not be arrested tonight as long as you cooperate. Understood?” Again, she nodded. “What you won’t be is paid, other than our not arresting you. Will you cooperate?”
“Wha’d’ya’ want from me?”
“That’s the easy part. Just follow the officer standing at the corner of the building,” Harrison pointed and the lady turned to see him. “He will walk with you back to your car and watch you as you drive away. Speak to no one for an hour. Understood?” She again nodded.
“Give me your cell phone.”
“What? I’m not giving you my phone. That’s my property. No way. You got no right.”
“I agree. I have no right. I also have no more time to spend on this. You are under arrest for suspicion of prostitution. I’ll motion that officer over to handcuff you and take you to the station for booking.”
“I thought you said I wouldn’t be arrested? You cops are all alike. You lie. What’re you after, a freebie?”
“I said you would not be arrested if you cooperated. I need your cell phone and the only two ways I can get it are you give it to me willingly, or I arrest you and take possession of it.”
“Well, fuck me. Then again, that ain’t gonna happen. Here’s my damn cell, okay? Now can I go?”
“Thank you for your cooperation,” Harrison said as he took the cell. “Now, let me see inside your purse to be sure you don’t have another cell.” She opened her purse. Harrison extended a small flashlight down inside her purse before turning it on. “Okay. There is some heavy shit going down here tonight. If you make contact with anyone in the next hour and mention this event in any manner I will find out and you will arrested for obstruction of justice and interference with a police officer in the performance
of his duty. And that is heavy shit compared to a prostitution charge. Do you understand me?”
The woman nodded, and then said, “Yes sir, I do.”
“Is there a code word or signal of any kind that you were to use at the John’s door?” The woman started to say something, but Harrison held up his hand to stop her. “If there is and you don’t tell me, people will likely die here tonight. In that event, I will see that you are arrested for conspiracy to commit murder. Now, is there a code of any kind?”
“No sir, none, may I split now?”
“Yes. The officer at the corner will accompany you as I indicated. He will take down your name and address and driver’s license number. He will look in your car for another phone. If there is one, you will willingly give that to him as well. You can recover your property at the station on Washington tomorrow between ten in the morning and noon. If you do not show to reclaim them from me, I will throw them out without having booked them into our records. Your decision. Now get going.”
While Lieutenant Harrison dealt with the hooker, SWAT team leader Rocky sent his best sharpshooter to take up a position on the rooftop of a rental house on the street behind the building where Gibbons had his apartment on the second floor. A second shooter was dispatched to the roof of the parking structure. The two shooters had vantage points that covered the front door and the window at the back of apartment seventeen.
At six minutes before ten, Maddie knocked on the door to Bennie Gibbons’ apartment. She immediately stepped back near the railing so that Gibbons would get a full view of her by looking out of the peephole in his door. Gibbons would look every time anyone knocked on his door. Unless he had called a pizzeria, he’d be expecting a blond hooker to deliver hair pie, not pizza pie.
She felt his eyes on her through that little hole.
Maddie stood with her shoulders back. Her hands on her hips, near her Glock22, 15-round .40 caliber police-issue pistol secreted behind the broad black, patent-leather belt she had worn around her waist to match her shoes.
“Yeah? Who is it?”
As if you don’t know, jerk. You’re looking right at me.
“I was supposed to be here at ten,” she said loud enough to be heard through his door. “I’m two minutes early, so sue me. We gonna do this or not?”
* * *
Except for the lieutenant’s exchange with the real hooker, Ryan Testler had watched the entire event. He had taken a position in the upstairs bedroom of the empty house on the far side of the back street. He watched through the sight on his Walther WA2000. Ryan had used a variety of sniping rifles and while this one was a bit heavy at sixteen pounds, it was a favorite when the mission didn’t require him to carry it long distances. He had it loaded with Winchester .300 caliber.
Ryan had chosen the inside bedroom window anticipating that Maddie may well bring along SWAT personnel. This home was a perfect position in relation to Gibbons’ apartment. He would have preferred the ten-foot higher roof. But he had correctly anticipated a SWAT shooter would take up that position. It was the best vantage point and the police could put a shooter there without contacting the property owner as the house looked abandoned. He had heard the officer setting up, but things had been absolutely quiet on the roof for nearly five minutes. He was ready. SWAT was apparently ready.
Ryan couldn’t see Maddie through Gibbons’ front door, but he saw Gibbons approach the door from the inside, look through the peephole, and stand there talking. He saw the handgun Gibbons had nested in the back of his pants.
* * *
Maddie watched the door to Gibbons’ apartment swing open steadily, but slowly. He had stayed behind the door. She could not see him.
“Hey honey,” she said, “where are ya?”
“Come right in, darling, I’m inside waiting for you.”
“Uh-uh. I’m a girl alone here. I ain’t walking in without seeing ya. No way. Now, honey, I am what you want. The best you’ll ever have, but not this way. Not this girl. I got standards, you know. You could be some ugly dude I wouldn’t want. Lemme see you, baby. Get me in the mood. Ya know?”
The door swung open the rest of the way. Bennie’s vanity had made the strategy work. He wanted to prove he was no ugly dude. He stood full in the doorway, for a moment, then he pulled the door partway closed, the edge now down the center of his chest.
“Well, look at you, honey.” She leaned forward a bit and shimmied her shoulders. “Yum, yum, here I come.” Maddie stood tall. Leaned back a bit with her arms crossed behind her back, thrusting her breasts forward as she slowly stepped toward the door. As she did, she moved her hand just far enough to grip her Glock. Bennie kept his hand on the inside of the knob, the door opening still centered along his chest.
With one step to go, Maddie lunged forward, her lowered shoulder slamming into the door. Bennie staggered back enough to be off balance. Enough to allow Maddie the breath of time she needed to bring her Glock around and position it at Gibbons’ chest. Seconds later, Lieutenant Harrison and two of the SWAT personnel rushed into the room. Bennie Gibbons was relieved of the handgun at his back, and cuffed, his hands behind him.
* * *
Way to go, Maddie.
Ryan stayed in his position, waiting while the SWAT shooter took up his gear and left by way of his ladder against the back of the house.
Ryan was proud of Maddie. “For a moment he fantasized her finishing what she had promised, with her delivery made to him, not Benjamin Gibbons. You’re quite a cop, Detective Sergeant Madeline Richards, quite a woman too. You just took down a professional killer, a trained assassin, alone, without firing a shot.”
Chapter 22
Maddie and Sue drove back to the station in their car and let SWAT, under the authority of Lieutenant Adam Harrison, take control of Benjamin Gibbons. They talked on the way.
“Sue, I want you to do a bit more digging on Paige’s father, Rodger Davis. About his death and any suspects or evidence they might have.”
“I can make the effort, Sergeant, but I don’t know what else to try. The State Department and the CIA have pretty much stonewalled me. National Security considerations, jurisdiction issues, and who knows what else. Technically, Davis either worked for the CIA as station chief or for the State Department as a security officer in a foreign Embassy. I can’t find a wedge to get anyone to tell me much beyond the fact that Rodger Davis was shot from a distance on the street in Paris, France. The French Prefecture of Police, ah, that’s the national police force which also provides police services in Paris, as I understood it anyway, left it to the U.S. to investigate under international protocols. It’s a dead-end, Maddie.”
“All right, let it go. But if you get any ideas on how to take it further, follow up on it.”
“I will. Now, may I ask you something?” Maddie gave a hand gesture that said okay. “How did we find Bennie Gibbons? That address?”
“An anonymous call. He gave the address and linked Gibbons to the death of Sam Crawford. We knew Gibbons carried on with the neighbor Carla Roth. He used that to help him get the lay of the land to take the shot.”
“Sounds like your caller is pretty familiar with Gibbons. Could have known him before Sam Crawford got gunned.”
“Sue, there’s another name I want you to run.” Maddie glanced at Sue as she turned the corner. “Ryan Testler’s the name: T-E-S-T-L-E-R.”
“Your anonymous caller?”
“If he were, the caller wouldn’t have been anonymous, would he?”
“No, Sergeant, I guess he wouldn’t.”
“Some things it’s best you don’t know. Not yet anyway. Just get it. Let me know right away.”
* * *
Ryan’s time to check in with his boss was upon him. He pulled his car into the outer parking area of the Ritz Carlton where he was staying and made the call on a throwaway cell phone. He needed to report on Gibbons’ arrest, along with why he had provided the local cops Gibbons’ identity and location.
He explaine
d, “The local police were working a local homicide. They weren’t letting up. I determined Gibbons didn’t know who hired and paid him. Hopefully, with them having the shooter, I may be able to cap their investigation into the killing of Sam Crawford. Truth is Gibbons had become unreliable for our use in the future. One way or another, I hope to keep the locals from making the connection to the bank and the terrorists.”
“You think the banker or the terrorists hired Gibbons?”
“No sir, I don’t.”
“Excuse me, Ryan; I’ve got to go. Can you call back in, say, twenty minutes?”
“Yes sir.” Ryan hit the end button on his phone and proceeded to move his car into underground parking and went up to his room. He had switched from a higher floor just that morning, paying a young couple after they had checked in to take his room and give him theirs on the second floor. He took the stairs down and drifted outside to a gathering of lounge chairs at the far end of the pool. Exactly twenty minutes after ending his last call, he redialed his control and picked the conversation back up as if it had never paused.
“I could be wrong about the banker, sir, but I don’t think so. If they planned to kill Crawford, they wouldn’t have fired him. In fact, they’re playing it like they never fired him at all, so there was no reason to have done so. In fact, having fired him together with denying it afterwards, is one of the reasons the locals figure something squirrely is going on at Nation’s First.”
“What about the terrorists?”
“My guess is they would have pressed Maxwell Norbert to handle it. And, like I said, he would have fired him and paid him off. Maybe, in the alternative, paid Crawford to quit and relocate. A payoff rather than a bullet is more the speed of a bankster. Of course, that tracks only if they didn’t know he was cooperating with us. If they knew, they could’ve killed him to eliminate him as a witness.”
