“Oh, I am just some guy that inherited money from my well-heeled parents, then spent some time in the army but service life didn’t agree with me. Now I just go round and enjoy life.”
Blacke nodded, apparently believing his story.
“So what brings you on board? Just the thrill of being on a big ship?”
John could see that he was fishing for information.
“No, the thrill of being on the maiden voyage of this particular cruise ship.”
Blacke sat back in his chair and stared at Steel for a moment, his eyes measuring this man up, almost as if he was trying to ascertain if he was friend or foe.
“So, Antony, how are you enjoying the cruise so far?”
Steel nodded as he took a mouthful of the creamy dessert. He swallowed hard and wiped his mouth with the napkin.
“It’s great. I hope the rest of this trip is as exciting.” Blacke looked pensive as he took another sip from his glass.
“How did you find Vigo? I hear the restaurants there are to die for.”
There was a clatter of glass and metal as Tia dropped her dessert fork, knocking over a water glass. She smiled with embarrassment as Alan Metcalf quickly picked up the fallen glass and attempted to mop up the spillage. Tia apologized for the incident, her face flushing deep red. .
John looked down at Alan Metcalf’s right hand and noticed the bandage on it.
“That looks nasty, Alan, what happened?” he asked.
Alan looked over to his wife, who flashed a brief glance at him.
“Oh, it’s nothing, just me being clumsy, that’s all.” He smiled nervously, to which Steel returned a steady unblinking gaze. Steel looked back at Blacke and he knew then that another piece had fallen into the puzzle, but he feared it wasn’t the final one. John then looked round to see if anyone else had noticed the subtle hint, but the others went about chatting, oblivious to the tension, apart from Colin Bishop, who just sat there looking nervous and fidgety. John couldn’t work out whether that was because of Blacke or Missy.
Guilt exhibits itself in many ways. Some people sweat profusely and look nervous. Others can’t make eye contact, for fear of giving something away, while others are over-confident, thinking they can get away with anything. However, the only two people at the table who didn’t display signs of disquiet were Tia May and the Studebakers. Steel was in a den of vipers but only one of them could bite. He looked up at Blacke who was talking to Susan Metcalf, his eyes fixed, like a hawk moving in on its prey.
McCall sat at her desk flicking through the case files on her desk. She had the feeling that all these deaths were connected somehow but she didn’t know how. The bullpen was even more chaotic than usual, the department was short-staffed and personnel were spread thinly because there was a lot of extra security needed for a forthcoming UN meeting over illegal arms sales in Africa and the Middle East; each department had to give up some of its staff to help.
Sam looked up at the clock. It was nearly five, and soon she would be soaking in a tub with lots of bubbles and a glass of red. Her daydream was shattered as her desk phone rang. “Homicide, Detective McCall,” she answered.
The call was silent, apart from the sound of a woman sobbing.
“Hello?” Sam said urgently.
“Is there someone there? Are you hurt or in danger?”
Tony and Tooms looked up and she waved a hand to alert them to this strange caller. Tony picked up the other phone and dialled for the caller to be traced.
“Ma’am, I can hear you crying,” Sam persevered.
“Are you hurt? Please, just talk to me. Please. Say anything.”
There was silence. Finally a woman’s quiet voice came on the line:
“Detective, it’s Susan Hay, we met at Ultra-tronics.” She sounded terrified.
“Yes of course, I remember you, Susan. You’re Mr. Brown’s secretary.” She tried to coax her to relax, using soothing, comforting tones in an attempt to calm her down.
“Okay, Susan. Tell me what’s wrong. And where are you?” She could hear Susan’s breathing starting to slow down and become less panicked.
“Detective, we need to talk. There’s a bistro near Grand Central Station on Pershing Square. Meet me there.” Each word was almost a whisper.
“Okay, it will take me about fifteen minutes to get there. Just wait for me, okay?”
The phone went dead in McCall’s hand and she looked up at the other two, standing there open mouthed.
“Trace has got her at the address of the bistro now,” Tony said, putting down his receiver, and then starting to put his jacket on.
“Okay,” Sam instructed.
“By the sound of things she wants to come in where it’s safe, so the plan is, Tony, you get to be wheel man. Tooms, you play lookout. I go in, we chat, I convince her to come in. We pick her up, get her back here and see what she has to say. I am guessing she has seen something to do with Major’s accident and she can’t keep it to herself.”
Tony and Tooms stood there ready.
“Cool, let’s go,” Tooms said as he cracked his knuckles.
Jenny looked over with her cell phone in her hand.
“CSU has something for me, or do you need me to come as well?”
McCall shook her head.
“No, we got this covered. You get to CSU. It might be a big break, and God knows we need one.” Jenny smiled and went back on the phone as she watched the others head for the elevator.
As the elevator doors began to close, McCall caught a glimpse of Jenny putting on her coat, her cell phone tucked underneath her chin as she struggled with the garment. McCall didn’t want her there: Jenny was new, not new to the force but inexperienced as a detective and she had a real bad feeling about this pick-up. The last thing she needed was someone ending up in a body bag. Sure, she was a good cop, of that there was no doubt; however a detective has got to go it alone sometimes and at the moment she didn’t seem ready. The powers that be had promoted her, maybe too early and too fast but that was their call, all McCall had to do was teach her to stay in one piece.
TWENTY-ONE
The rush hour had set in but fortune had favoured them as they made their way to the bistro. They were around ten minutes late but McCall knew that Susan would wait for her: the woman had something important she had to share and she wouldn’t disappear until she had said it.
The district of Pershing was its usual nightmare at around five o’clock and Tony had just found a parking spot behind one of the tour buses. The sun was still high but the surrounding buildings cast a pleasant shadow. Tooms and McCall exited the vehicle and made for the café. The place was large with plenty of seating space inside. Sam left Tooms standing outside while she went in to find Susan Hay. The noise of the traffic from the Park Avenue Viaduct was dulled as the doors closed behind her
Sam looked round and found Susan in a far corner, tucked away from the windows and doors. McCall noted the look of relief on Susan’s face as she recognized her.
“Thanks for coming,” Susan began, looking round the room every time someone new came in. McCall sat next to her. She felt better with her back against the wall rather than facing the door, and if something dangerous was to happen, it would take too long to turn, assess, and then react.
“So what’s wrong? Has someone threatened you?”
Susan gave her one of those looks that said ‘And then some’. She was about to take a sip of coffee from the large cup she held with both hands, but they were shaking so much that the liquid splashed over the sides. McCall rested a hand on top of hers and gently guided the cup back onto the table.
McCall did her best to reassure her, laying a hand on her arm.
“Why don’t you start from the beginning?”
Susan regarded her nervously, and then nodded.
“Well, the other day when you came in asking about Donald I did some checking. He had been working for a company on a big job—a massive job really, from what I could see.”
/> Sam took out the small recorder and switched it on.
“Do you remember the name of the company?” The detective could see Susan thinking hard before shaking her head.
“No sorry, it’s gone. Anyway, after the job he was asked if he could do a quick on-the-side job, an unofficial job in the 7-Eleven. Apparently the guy who was meant to do it was off sick. Well, Donald being a good natured guy, said he would do it.” Susan took a careful sip from the hot coffee before clearing her throat and continuing.
The detective looked puzzled for a second before realising something.
“Your boss, Mr. Brown, said he knew nothing about the other job.”
Susan shook her head. “He was the one who sent him, apparently. Said it was a favour for a friend.” Sam muttered to herself,
“That lying piece of...okay. Listen, Susan, we have to get you back to the precinct and into safety.” She stood up and looked into Susan’s scared face.
“Come on,” she protested.
“You can’t protect me, you know that. They will find me and, well, I’ll just be another one of your mysterious cases.”
The detective got onto her radio and informed the other two she was ready to come out.
Tony drove fast, sliding into a space on the road where a bus had just departed.
“Okay,” he said into the radio. “I am in position.” He was gripping the wheel ready to go as soon as the women were clear of the building and inside the vehicle.
Tooms looked round the street and at the buildings on the other side of the viaduct.
“We are clear here,” his voice gravelly and serious.
“Okay, let’s go.” McCall motioned Susan to get up and come with her. They walked quickly towards the door, adrenaline pumping through their veins: for McCall the fight or flight buzz kept her pumped and ready, for Susan the situation was new and terrorizing. As they neared the exit, Susan turned and looked back at the table.
“My bag, I need my bag,” she protested.
McCall turned to look, but was pushed out of the way by a large fat guy who meant business. As she fell to the ground, the window of the shop exploded and people began to scream.
“Shots fired! Shots fired!” She heard Tooms yell down the police radio, as she looked up and over to the door and saw a clear unimpeded view of the street, previously distorted by smoked glass. She crawled to where Susan lay and found her lying on her front in a pool of blood; it looked as if Susan had taken a shot from a high-powered rifle to the chest. It had left a large hole in her back the size of a squash ball.
The detective looked over at the large man who’d pushed her, who also lay still and showed no signs of life. She crawled nearer, and found a large wound in his left arm where the round must have entered.
“You guys okay?” she asked over the radio.
“Yeah, we’re fine, and you?”
McCall ventured out low and steady until her back was against the front grill of the Dodge next to the other two police vehicles.
“Where’s the girl?” Tooms asked.
McCall shook her head miserably.
“Damn it!” yelled Tooms. He looked round as the sound of the cavalry approached. “How the hell did they know, McCall?”
She shook her head slowly as she looked at the body of Susan Hay.
“I don’t know, but I have a pretty good idea.”
It took around fifteen minutes for the area to be shut down and cordoned off as much as possible. Behind the cordons, people with cell phones stretched their arms high to try to get a photo of anything they could show off to prove that they had been there. CSU quickly set up the targeting laser to pinpoint a location of the shooter’s nest, while Tina carried out her initial examination, so as to be able to get the bodies shipped back to the morgue as quickly as possible. The tall thin CSU tech yelled over to the captain and pointed to the ninth floor of the building opposite, and the captain turned to the SWAT commander, but they were already on their way.
“Go find that room,” the captain ordered. “I want this son of a bitch.” The commander nodded and moved out.
Tony and Tooms rushed forwards, only to be stopped by the captain, who held them back, placing his hands on their chests.
“And where the hell do you two think you are going?”
Tooms pointed over the road towards the building with a yearning expression on his face. “We were just going to...” The captain gave him a stern look.
“You were just going to what, Detective?” The two men backed down, knowing that Brant would never let them in there, not with the possibility of there being a professional assassin in there.
“SWAT can handle it, it’s their pond now. You two just sit down drink some coffee until you are released.” They nodded and Brant walked towards McCall and Tina, who were kneeling by the bodies.
“McCall, are you okay?” Brant asked. Normally he would greet Tina first and ask her about the case; however, this was different.
“No, not really,” Sam replied gloomily.
“I just had two people shot in front of me, one of whom was a potential witness.” Brant could tell that she was angry, but he knew her rage was directed at whoever did this, not at him.
“What’s the story with the big guy?” Brant pointed with his head towards the large overweight man who had pushed McCall out of the way. She didn’t know whether to be still annoyed or grateful to the man who had shoved her, then it hit her.
“He pushed me out of the way!” she said in realisation.
“Those bullets were meant for Susan and me.” Tina moved over to the big man’s corpse and lifted the sheet that covered him from the view of the camera-wielding photo-journalists.
“His name was Simon Watts, thirty-four years of age.” Tina tossed his wallet to McCall, who looked through it to try and find any more information on the guy.
“There are a couple of credit cards, some loose bills and a driving licence.” McCall took the licence out and searched for the address.
“This guy was a bus driver, he lived in Brooklyn. I can get in touch with Brooklyn PD when we get back, and they can take it.”
Captain Brant nodded as he looked down on the unfortunate man.
“Doc, I can only see the entry point. Is it possible that the round is still in there?”
Tina looked up and smiled.
“It’s more than possible. I am hoping his guy’s soft tissue has preserved it for us.”
At last, the captain had something to smile about.
“Okay, we wait for SWAT to clear and contain, then CSU can sweep while we take a look around. Hopefully he has left us with something, but I doubt it.”
Sam thought for a moment then a look of realisation dawned on her face.
“I need to get back to Ultra-tronics and see Mr. Brown.” Brant looked over at McCall. “Why? Do you think he’s involved in any of this?” McCall nodded as she looked at Susan’s body lying in the widening pool of blood.
“He was the one who sent Donald Major on that last job at the 7-Eleven. Susan was afraid of the guy—I figure that’s why she came to us. He killed her on my watch.”
Brant looked out at the pavement and waved Tony and Tooms inside.
“I want you two to go to this Mr Brown’s place and bring him in. The man has some explaining to do.”
The two detectives knuckle-punched each other and headed off until Brant called them back, saying,
“And hey, take some back-up with you, just in case.”
Tooms saluted playfully and they headed off.
“And, McCall. I suggest you take some uniforms with you as well.”
She smiled. “Concerned about my welfare, sir?”
“No, his.”
The sound of police sirens filled the busy streets, the noise echoing through the avenue of mile-high buildings. The Browns’ residence was in Larchmont, a large oversized house that sat on a long driveway surrounded by trees and with miles separating neighbours. The evening sun was b
eginning to set, turning the clear blue sky a dark cherry red, while the treetops seemed to glow as if they were on fire. Tooms had to admit the sight was breathtaking and a little eerie. Driving up to the house, the two detectives found it unlit and quiet.
Parking in the drive, the pair got out of the car and immediately drew their weapons. Behind them four uniformed officers parked up and joined them. Tooms motioned for two of them, Officers Dunleavy and Short, to take the back and the others to follow. Detective Tooms waited a couple of minutes for the two uniforms to get in position before banging on the door. His fist crashed hard, causing it to open. Tony looked over to Tooms who seemed startled, before he nodded. Tony and the others already had their weapons held up ready to fire as they crept in.
“NYPD! Mr. Brown, come out with your hands up!” Tooms’s voice echoed around the old fashioned room. Polished oak flooring and skirting filled the main entrance and wooden panelling covered the lower half of the white walls. The police officers stopped in the entrance to get their bearings. Tooms clicked his fingers to get everyone’s attention, then, using two fingers of his left hand he pointed at Officer Marks then at his own eyes, then directed Marks towards the kitchen entrance, which was down the hall at the end. Marks nodded and moved out.
Tooms did the same for Officer Shaw, and directed him towards the right and the other rooms. Tony nodded up towards the stairs and Tooms nodded once for okay. As Tooms broke left towards the dining room, Tony headed for the upstairs via the staircase that ran against the right-hand wall.
Burnt umber shards of light filled the rooms, streaming through the ornate windows and breaking up the shadows. The men moved cautiously as they went deeper into the house. The big home had seven bedrooms, any of which could conceal their quarry, Mr Brown.
Officer Marks entered the kitchen through the double-hinged door, which squeaked as he slowly nudged it open. Inside it was almost black, forcing him to take out his flashlight, hold it in his left hand and cross it under his pistol arm for support. The bright light cut through the dark, illuminating sections of a huge modern kitchen but also casting grizzly shadows. Marks was a tall well-built man with very short hair; beads of sweat began to form as he moved through the kitchen.
Operation:UNITY (John Steel series Book 2) Page 25
