“Who told you to take the money?” Sherman asked. “The voice,” Simpson replied.
“Who told you to try and leave the grounds with it?” O’Connor asked.
Simpson put the suitcase down and said, “Detective Lieutenant Cronin told me to leave the grounds with it tonight.”
Sherman looked at O’Connor and asked, “Now why the hell would he tell you to do that?”
“Because,” Cronin said as he stepped out from behind a tree. “Because I wanted to see who would show up here.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sherman replied. “This is a kidnapping that crossed state lines, involving $3 million in cash.”
“How,” Cronin continued, “did you know to be here tonight?”
“It’s a funny thing,” O’Connor said. “We are called investigators, we have leads, and we even read Twitter, Detective Lieutenant Cronin. You have a statement published that you know who is behind this, and it’s all over the fucking news. It doesn’t take a genius to stake out the house.”
“True,” Cronin replied as he called out Officer Chapman’s name. The officer came out with his gun on Sherman, and before O’Connor could react, Cronin was pointing his firearm at O’Connor.
“Now this is what I call interesting,” Cronin said. “You have guns on Simpson here, and we have guns on you.” Sherman moved his gun toward Chapman.
“I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I will defend myself.” O’Connor moved his gun toward Cronin.
Simpson spoke, saying, “Since nobody has a gun on me, can I leave if the money stays?” He was ignored, as Cronin started to get closer to O’Connor.
“Jason 'Jack’ O’Connor, or should I call you 'the voice’? You almost had everyone fooled, but you see, I’m better at playing games than most people. Now drop your weapon before you stop breathing within the next 10 seconds.”
O’Connor started to laugh as he held the gun on the detective. “How did you know?” O’Connor said. With that remark, Sherman moved his gun to O’Connor.
“Well,” Cronin said, “where do I start? Let’s see, how about the letter from Phil to Rachelle. The only three people that knew about it were Paul, Bud, myself, and your partner, yet you brought it up when we spoke to Anderson. When Bud called in to the precinct requesting a list of who had blue cars from the Twitter messages, you were there. Somehow, Bud got in the middle of a hail of bullets. I had Rachelle change her cell phone number, yet you as an FBI agent still checked on how to reach her; your cell phone dialed the same number Phil gave to the Rite Aid store. You were interviewing William Lance when all of this started at his home and were the first one to know about the $3 million in cash. Oh yeah, besides me setting you up with Mr. Simpson here and Rachelle, I have a 12-year-old witness who happens to have a photographic memory who can place you with exact time and place speaking to Phil Smith. It just isn’t your day...or night, I should say.”
Bud was standing behind a tree watching about 10 yards away with his gun drawn, listening to Detective Lieutenant Cronin put the case together, and he began to understand why he was not sharing information.
O’Connor put his gun down as he put his hands up and said, “What about the girl, Rachelle? Her tweets prove she was involved with me.”
“No,” Cronin replied. “That was me. I took over her account and password. She had nothing to do with it. I only had her have lunch here with this asshole,” pointing at Simpson, “to throw confusion as to who was involved and how deeply.”
“Hey,” Simpson remarked, “I resent that.”
“Shut up!” Chapman yelled. “Only talk when we tell you to!”
“Now,” Cronin continued, “take out your backup.” As O’Connor bent over to take out his backup, a shot was fired from Bud, and it struck O’Connor in the backside. He keeled over in pain as Bud walked up to him, which startled everyone.
He looked at Cronin and said, “Sorry, boss, I thought he was going for his backup, and besides, I always wanted to shoot him in the ass.”
O’Connor was on the ground yelping, “You shot me in the ass, you shit! You shot me in the ass.”
Bud pulled Simpson away as Sherman picked up the money. Cronin kneeled over O’Connor as he lay on the ground and said, “You see, Mr. Voice, it’s one thing to bend the rules of the game, but when you start cheating, the details start being overlooked. And let’s see, shall I continue? Agent Sherman, did you tell your partner about the letter, yes or no?”
“No,” Sherman replied.
“Agent Sherman,” Cronin replied “when Paul and Bud requested that the masks you took out of Starfield’s house be sent to the precinct, why were they never brought?”
Agent Sherman kept his gun on O’Connor as he answered, “My partner here said he would take care of it.”
As Cronin moved a little closer, he spoke again. “What really screwed you up with the details was telling Paul about the girl witnessing the murder in Belle Terre. No one at the courthouse from the FBI could have possibly known at the time you mentioned it. Your greed has gotten the best of you. When Detective Powers wanted to reenact the kidnapping on the ferry, I let him do it expecting nothing to happen. There was no reason for the kidnappers to expose themselves, they had the girl, now all they wanted was the money. Yet somebody in charge wanted to get rid of his accomplices, to take the blame, and to keep a bigger share of the money for himself. Your greed got the best of you Mr Voice.”
He looked up at Chapman to take him to the hospital.
“Bud!” Cronin yelled. “You had to shoot him in the ass, didn’t you?”
“Sorry,” Bud replied, “I missed again.”
“Get to Patty Saunders; we have another killer on the loose,” Cronin replied.
Bud suddenly thought of Paul and started running for the cruiser that he drove up in with Chapman. Bud yelled at Chapman, “Put him in Cronin’s car! I’m taking the cruiser!”
It was at this moment that they all remembered Patty had been sent to Port Jazz to be a decoy. It was good odds Phil Smith was being drawn out.
Patty left Port Jazz and started texting at 1:30 am to Phil Smith. He should have had enough time to secure the money and be safe. As Patty walked down Main Street toward her car, a dark figure with the Ghost Face mask ran into her and grabbed her by the hair and cut off her ponytail. Patty started screaming as she got up and ran straight ahead toward the end of the street. She stumbled twice as the masked figure didn’t care about the few pedestrians up this late. Both men and women rushed to be out of harm’s way as the mask with the blood splatter continued to chase Patty.
Bud drove as fast as he could down Cliff Road and was heading toward the front of the house when Paul flagged him down. He got in the car as Bud stepped on it again to get to Port Jazz.
“I thought I was going to prevent you from killing Saunders in a mask,” Bud said to him.
“Let’s just get her,” Paul said.
As Patty continued to scream, the masked figure continued to catch up to her and give her a slice of the knife each time. He wanted her to suffer. Patty made it to the dock of the ferry where it all started, and although she was wearing a vest, the killer knew where to put the knife. Deep into her neck, which silenced Patty as she dropped in the water. Before Bud turned left to go up Main Street, Paul saw the figure by the loading dock.
“There!” Bud turned right instead and stopped the car as they got out. Bud took his Glock and yelled for him to stop. “Don’t shoot!” Paul begged Bud. “Don’t shoot!” He looked at the masked killer. “It’s over. Don’t give him a reason to shoot you. All you have done is kill the bad guys; the public will be sympathetic to you.”
Finally, the masked killer spoke, saying, “There is one left.”
“No, it’s over,” Paul said, as he got closer. The masked killer started to run as Paul threw himself on him. Bud ran up with his gun.
“Don’t shoot
!” Paul said as Bud put his gun away and held on to the hand with the knife. He secured the knife, and they could hear the crying. He took off the mask with the blood splatter on it. It was Madison. Bud was shocked beyond belief.
“What? Why?” he said as he bent over in disbelief.
“My sister,” she replied. “They changed her life, and I wasn’t going to put her through years of trials or to look over her shoulder the rest of her life.”
“Maddie,” Paul said. “The hospital with Kyle Winters, Anderson, John Winters. How did you know where to find them?”
She answered through her sobs, “It’s amazing what people tell you to try to save their own lives. Kyle Winters told me things and Mason Winters told me where everyone was before I killed them.”
“Why Patty?” Bud asked.
“She started this,” Madison answered. “None of this would have happened.”
“Listen to me,” Paul said. “We are bringing you in; don’t say another word without your attorney. Listen carefully, the people you killed were not innocent, plus you saved lives with Deborah, Sherry, and Rachelle. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Maddie answered as he put her in the back of the cruiser.
Paul looked at Bud. “Don’t look at me,” Bud replied. “I didn’t hear a thing. I was looking for the body that fell in the water.” Paul nodded.
Bud looked over at the officers who had just arrived at the scene and said, “Sorry, guys, someone has to get the body in the water, and it’s not going to be me.”
The hospital brought Healey into surgery right away, as Lindsey had to be consoled when they took him away from her. Bud and Paul brought Madison to the precinct as they called Cronin, who in turn picked up Rachelle to bring her down to see her sister. Bud called Al Simmons, Patty’s attorney, on what happened to her and told him he had a new client by the name of Madison Robinson.
“It’s 3:00 am,” Simmons replied.
“Yes,” Bud replied. “Some of us work for a living,” he said as he disconnected.
As they rode back to the precinct, Bud looked at Paul and said, “I suppose you want an apology from me.”
“No need,” Paul replied. “You’ll make it up to me.”
Bud looked puzzled and asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’ll see,” Paul answered, “and thanks for not shooting.”
“You?” Bud said.
“No, Maddie,” Paul answered. “I knew you could never shoot me.” Bud turned his head toward the front. He had nothing to say because he knew Paul was right.
“Cronin,” Bud answered. “He took us to school on this one. He set all of this up, from Rachelle’s Twitter account to having Patty released, to not giving us certain information to protect us in case something went wrong. I feel like such a, such a...”
“Student,” Paul finished.
“And you?” Bud went on. “Did you figure out it was her?”
“I had my suspicions. Rachelle and her were both in my apartment when my mask went missing, but I wasn’t sure until maybe a day or two ago.”
“So where were you when I couldn’t reach you for hours yesterday?”
Paul glanced over at Bud and said, “I was with Allan’s kids. They needed some company.”
“And your sweats?” Bud asked.
Paul nodded and said, “I kept thinking about Madison, but because I was too involved, my judgment was clouded.”
Bud put his hand on Paul’s arm and said, “You saved my life tonight. Thank you.”
Paul smiled and replied, “It’s what partners do.”
Maddie lay in the backseat curled up, which she was able to do because they didn’t put handcuffs on her. As they brought her into the precinct, Al Simmons was already there. He was in his pajamas, but he was there. They took her to a room where he could speak with her. Ten minutes later, Rachelle came in and ran to Paul, crying uncontrollably.
Cronin pulled Bud aside and said, “Let’s not forget Phil Smith is still on the loose with the money.”
Bud nodded and asked, “Where’s O’Connor?”
“Well,” Cronin replied, “he’s at the hospital being watched by his old friends because you shot him in the ass. They are doing a bedside arraignment on one murder charge with additional charges pending. Turns out O’Connor was lucky. The bullet hit his ID in his wallet, and struck the gleuteus maximus which is the strongest muscle in the human body.
“I couldn’t miss,” Bud said as he walked away.
“Listen,” Cronin said to Bud, “I forced Simpson to do things to have this play out the way I wanted it to. If I’m not here in a day or two, I want you and Paul to know it’s been a pleasure.” Bud shook his hand.
“Did you ever suspect us?”
“The evidence made me cautious about you two, but I let it play out because I knew the only ones that had to be afraid of the Face of Fear Investigation were the bad guys. If it wasn’t Paul or you, then I needed your help. See you in the morning.”
Bud said good night, and Paul stayed with Rachelle while she spoke to Maddie and then dropped her back at her place. It was already 4:00 am when he dropped her off.
Phil Smith was in the barn on Morgan Lane in Port Jefferson Station with his cash. He had found the place about two days prior, and it seemed that no one came in and out of the place. He had been sleeping for a few hours and missed all the excitement of the prior six hours. A pebble hit him in the neck area as he finally opened his eyes. Standing in the shadows was a figure wearing a flesh-colored mask with long gray fabric, cutout eyes, and a red tongue coming out of the mouth.
“Who the hell are you?”
The man behind the mask answered in a whispered tone, “Does it really matter?”
“How did you find me?” Phil asked.
The masked man whispered again, saying, “Technology is a wonderful thing, especially when your case of cash is bugged with a transmitter.”
“What do you want?” Phil asked.
The man moved closer and said, “I want you to go to hell. You have caused hell, created hell, and now, it’s time for you to go to hell.”
“That means,” Phil answered, “that you would have to kill me.”
“Oh, we’ve got Einstein here,” the masked man replied.
“What are you going to do, come after me with a knife like the other masked killings?”
“No,” he replied. “Like I said, technology is a wonderful thing.”
With that he pulled out his weapon and fired a single shot to the head of Phil Smith, but it missed. Smith reached for his gun, but the masked man fired again and this time hit Phil Smith in the throat. He fired again, and the bullet entered his cheek. He was dead within a minute. The shooter left the building with the money and disappeared before daylight broke.
Nine o’clock in the morning came fast, with very little sleep for all those involved. The Long Island Pulse magazine had made an announcement that Detective Lieutenant Cronin was true to his word. Arrests had been made of FBI agent Jason “Jack” O’Connor, and three of his accomplices—Ron Buckner, Brian Thompson, and Eric Pierson—were all killed in a gun battle in one of the homes in Belle Terre. In addition, the body of Phil Smith was found in a storage building on Morgan Lane in Port Jefferson Station. It was strongly suspected that one of the three accomplices with Agent O’Connor had killed Phil Smith and had planned to go back for the cash, which was never found.
Police Commissioner Jameson came out to the podium with Detective Lieutenant Cronin, Assistant District Attorney Ashley, and detectives Paul Powers and Bud Johnson. The commissioner made his opening remarks and turned the podium over to Detective Lieutenant Cronin. He was clearly uncomfortable and didn’t want to answer too many questions, but he understood the situation.
The questions started with Newsday asking about the masked killer in the Ghost Face mask. Detective Lieutenant Cronin
answered it was most likely the result of a vigilante killing spree from the sister of one of the victims. He gave her name as Madison Robinson, the younger sister of Rachelle Robinson, who was one of the intended victims in the Face of Fear Investigation.
Fox News asked, “What would most likely happen to her since they were vigilante killings?” And Detective Lieutenant Cronin answered that he would not speculate on the question and that it would be up to the district attorney’s office as to the handling and recommendations. The questions continued from NBC and CBS regarding the vigilante killings until Cronin reminded everyone that the kidnapping of Deborah Lance was the genesis of the case and innocent people were also killed and wounded during the investigation. He continued answering questions for another 10 minutes until he said it was time to wrap things up.
“What now?” asked The Shannyn T, the young intern from Long Island Pulse magazine. “What are your plans?”
“My plans?” Detective Lieutenant Cronin answered. “I’m going to Disney World,” he said as he walked away from the podium. Most in the crowd laughed with a puzzled look on their faces, but those who knew him best knew he wasn’t kidding. Disney World was a place he visited two to three times a year to relieve stress, sometimes with his family and sometimes without.
Cronin walked to his office, and within a few minutes, Bud and Paul walked in. They waited for Gina to leave with some papers before speaking.
“We need to talk,” Paul said.
Cronin looked up at his two detectives and asked, “Does it stay in this office, or do we need to be on record?”
Bud and Paul looked at each other, and Bud spoke up, saying, “It can stay in this office.” Paul nodded in agreement.
“OK,” the boss said, “what’s on your mind?”
“You manipulated almost everything,” Bud said. “I heard you at the Lance Mansion.”
“It worked, right?” Cronin answered.
“You forgot a few things while you were checkmating O’Connor,” Bud answered.
“Like?” Cronin asked.
The Face of Fear: A Powers and Johnson Novel Page 48
