“How long will it take you?”
“We won’t know ‘til we get there.”
“Okay, if I didn’t allow this, I’m quite sure you’d find some way to go anyway. You better get started if you’re going to book some flights.”
“I did that before I came in here.”
“What if I hadn’t authorized it?”
“I knew you would, because you care about justice. But I also knew you would chew my ass and rag me about not being a police executive. You always do and then you end up doing the right thing. I know how to do things that make this department look pretty damn successful. I know you realize that, Commissioner.”
“I can’t argue with you about your know-how. You know how to be a flat foot detective. Go reel this guy in, Patty, and be safe. I need my Chief of D’s.”
“You can count on it.”
Chapter 62
Tuesday, March 29 - Day 70
John F. Kennedy International Airport
Borough of Queens, New York
1600 Hours
Pat had Dickie Davis drive Mary McDonald and him to the JFK Airport. As they got out of the car in the departure area, Pat remembered he had to disarm himself. If this was a U. S. flight, he would have no difficulty flying armed, but only the Federal Air Marshals could fly armed overseas. He removed his guns, ammo, and handcuffs and put them in the trunk of the Chrysler. Mary McDonald did the same with her Glock and back-up gun. Dickie left after he and Pat shook hands. He and Mary went to the counter to check in.
Pat and Mary checked one bag each and he carried his laptop in his briefcase as carry-on luggage. They made their way out to the international boarding area. Pat handed Mary an international cell phone.
“We have one each in case we need to call back to the States. They are supposed to work as soon as we get to Europe.”
“I would’ve never thought of that, Chief.”
“I’ve been overseas a number of times. It’s best to set it up before you get there.”
“I’m sure it is. Do you know how long our flight is?” Mary asked.
“About eight hours.”
“I hope the flight is smooth. Maybe we could get some sleep.”
“I hope so too.” Pat agreed.
Pat looked up and saw a familiar face. Maggie Parker was walking up to the gate. She had her JFK access identification clipped to her blazer. Pat stood up and hugged her.
“Maggie, what a great surprise! I believe you know Mary McDonald.”
“Yes, it’s nice to see you again. I just happened to be in the area.”
“I’m sure, but I’m glad you’re here.” Pat assured her.
Mary walked away to give them some privacy, and Maggie sat down beside Pat.
“I know you know this, but you’re not a cop in Germany, Pat. Don’t get into anything and think your badge will get you out of it. It doesn’t work that way. The German Poliezi are very hard-nosed and rigidly enforce everything. They gave us grief when we went there on the Presidential Detail. We often carried weapons in diplomatic pouches, to make sure we were prepared.”
“I appreciate your concern, but Herb Mueller is very tight with them and has assured me we’ll be fine.”
“I hope so, but I have a list of people who can help you. The Service has an office in Frankfurt, and I have listed the agents and numbers. We also have agents assigned to Interpol in Lyon, France, if you need help. I’ve included someone at the U.S. Embassy in Frankfurt who I’ve worked with in the past and who will not rat you out to the FBI. However, if you arrest your man, the FBI will find out pretty quickly, and the American Embassy has to be notified.”
“Thanks, Maggie. This could be helpful. I have an international phone that I’ll activate when we get there, and I have my laptop for email. I’ll keep you posted as best I can.”
The pre-boarding instructions were already starting and Pat was delighted the flight did not look too crowded. He had a center seat and hoped he would get to stretch out. They started boarding from the rear of the plane, and Pat and Mary’s row was called. Pat gave Maggie a big hug and a kiss and started down the gate to the plane. He had noticed a tear in Maggie’s eyes, but he didn’t want to start crying in front of Mary. He had an image to maintain.
Pat and Mary made their way to their seats, which were about half-way back in the coach section. They were seated beside each other, with Mary at the window seat. Just as they had gotten comfortable, the flight attendant approached them.
“Mr. O’Connor and Miss McDonald?”
Pat answered. “That’s us.”
“The captain has invited you to be his guests in Business Class.”
“Thank you, very much.”
Pat and Mary grabbed their carry-on bags and were shown to seats 2A and 2B. After they took the larger, more comfortable seats, the captain approached them.
“The ticket agent was kind enough to inform me of your presence on my plane. I spend a lot of time in New York between flights and I appreciate what you do to keep us safe. I’m glad I could do something for you, Chief.”
“Thanks, Captain. Now it’s up to you to keep us safe. I’m sure you know that we’re unarmed.”
“Yes, I understand. I promise I’ll do my best to keep us safe. Let us know if you need anything at all. It’s an honor to have you aboard, sir.”
Pat turned to Mary. “I hope this is a good sign things are going to go well.”
“Me too, Chief. Did we just accept a gratuity?”
“Hardly. These last minute international tickets cost us several thousand bucks or rather cost the NYPD several thousand bucks.”
“It’s a small price to pay, if we get what we came after.”
“We’re well on our way to trying.”
Chapter 63
Wednesday, March 30 - Day 71
Frankfurt Main Airport
Frankfurt, Germany
0630 Hours
The seven-and-a-half-hour flight to Frankfurt was smooth and uneventful. Both Pat and Mary slept a little, but they were kept awake somewhat by the constant pampering in business class. The food was incredible, and the big comfortable seats made the flight more relaxing. About an hour from Frankfurt, they completed customs declarations and German immigration forms. It was barely daylight as the big Airbus touched down at Frankfurt Airport.
Unlike most American airports, they exited down a flight of steps and got on a tram to the terminal. Once inside the terminal, they had to clear immigration, pick up their checked baggage, and go through German Customs. They were able to walk through without being stopped. The Frankfurt terminal was very modern with vintage German aircraft suspended from the ceiling. Most of the planes were early bi-planes with a few small jets, but there was a noticeable absence of anything from the Nazi era.
Pat spotted Herb Mueller talking on his cell phone. Herb was dressed in a black, leather blazer and a white shirt and tie. His blond hair made him look German. Herb quickly ended the phone call and smiled, reaching out to shake both their hands. He spoke with a slight German accent.
“Welcome to Germany, Chief O’Connor, and Mary, it’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s also nice to meet you, Herb, and we sure appreciate your help.” Mary said, with a smile.
“It’s my pleasure, and it’s good to talk to some NYPD folks in person.”
Pat got right to business.
“What’s the plan, Herb?”
“I have some business to take care of at the airport, but I’ll take you guys to the hotel and let you get some rest. I’ve already arranged for an early check-in. I’ll meet you back at the hotel around one o’clock, and we can go over the case and head down to Diedesfeldt. We can meet in your room, Chief. You should have a suite with a large table.”
“I’m impressed, Herb.”
“They look after us at this hotel. A lot of Americans stay here.”
“That sounds good, Herb. I appreciate you helping with the hotel.”
“It’s my
pleasure, Chief.”
The hotel was close to the airport. Herb pulled into the circular drive in less than 10 minutes. Pat and Mary retrieved their luggage and walked into the hotel with Herb. The clerk immediately acknowledged them.
“You must be Mr. O’Connor and Miss McDonald. Your registration is already filled out, with Mr. Mueller’s help. I just need you to sign here, and we should be fixed.”
They quickly signed the registration, Pat gave a credit card for both rooms and they both had rooms on the third floor. Pat entered his suite. It was impressive. There was a large desk and a table. The bedroom was private with its own door leading to an American-style, king-sized bed. Pat sat down at the desk and pulled out his laptop. He had wireless service, so he sent a quick email to Maggie. “I just checked into the hotel. The flight was great. We had Business Class! Love you, Pat.”
Pat hung up his clothes and turned down the covers. A few hours sleep would be good. He called for a wake-up call at noon. He could sleep four hours.
Chapter 64
Wednesday, March 30 - Day 71
Intercontinental Hotel
Frankfurt, Germany
1200 Hours
Pat woke up in a daze. The jet lag had kicked in, but the four hours of sleep in the big bed had been good. He quickly showered and got dressed. He decided to dress casually, since they might be involved in surveillance later in the day. He called Mary, and they agreed to meet in the lobby for a cup of strong, German coffee. They had their coffee and were headed back upstairs when Herb Mueller walked into the lobby. They shook hands with each other and headed to Pat’s room to tighten the net around Daniel Pellegrino. Pat knew that NYPD Detectives on foreign assignments had the primary responsibility of responding to terrorist incidents overseas, in order to better prepare the NYPD in case of parallel targets in New York. The second role was to funnel any intelligence to New York which might impact the city.
When they got into the room, Herb took his jacket off. Pat was surprised to see he was carrying a very large, semi-automatic in a shoulder holster. NYPD cops were not allowed to carry firearms on overseas assignments. Pat was baffled and asked the obvious question.
“How do you get away with carrying that hardware, Herb?”
“It’s a long story, but I knew you’d be interested. I was born in Germany. My mother is German and my father was in the U.S. Air Force. So I have dual citizenship. I went to the German Polizei Academy for two and a half years. I worked for three years and when my father retired, they moved back to the United States. I eventually moved to New York to live with them, and I tested and joined the NYPD. After 9/11, the Anti-Terrorism Bureau was started and because of my language skills, I applied and was sent to Paris to work with the French police. However, Frankfurt is such a crossroads in Europe that thousands of people fly out of Frankfurt every week bound for New York. I moved here to Frankfurt, and my wife and I have been living with her parents. I have a special relationship with the Special Services Branch, and my German police powers were reinstated kind of ‘under the table’ although I technically work for the NYPD. There are guys in my unit who don’t even know that. It gives me great flexibility, and I don’t have to be distracted in my work by the frequent anti-American sentiment. I assure you, Chief, I’m 100 percent New York cop.”
“I’m certain of that, Herb. These are difficult times and we have to be creative at finding solutions that help us nail the bad guys. Well, let’s get to work.”
They sat down at the table and opened their files. Herb Mueller revealed what he had learned. “As best we can tell, Daniel Pellegrino has been in Germany for about 13 months. He’s going under the name of Daniel Zimmerman. He’s not employed that we can tell, and he owns the cottage he’s living in.”
Herb took out some photographs and showed them to Pat and Mary. They revealed a traditional German cottage with a beautifully tiled roof, stucco walls and a tiny yard. Pat shook his head.
“It looks like old Daniel is living the good life.”
“A very low-key one, I might add. I saw him on Tuesday morning after you called. He was standing in the yard. I’m sure it was him. He looked just like the pictures you sent me. Light sandy hair and wire rimmed glasses.”
“So Herb, how do we keep his FBI buddies from interfering?”
“We’ll try to circumvent them. If he’s living under an assumed name, that’s a crime in Germany. We can arrest him for that. In the meantime, we contact the U. S. Marshals’ liaison with Interpol in Lyon, France. You send a request through the Marshals for him to be extradited, and by the time the Bureau finds out about it, we’ll have him locked down. Of course, we’ll drop the German charges, and allow him to return to the United States. They’ll be hard pressed to interfere.”
“That sounds like a plan that just might work.”
“Just for information, I have his cottage covered with cameras, front and back. They were put up last night. So far, he hasn’t been out of the house. So I suggest we take a ride and see if we can scoop him up. We’ll grab some lunch on the way. It could get busy later.”
Chapter 65
Wednesday, March 30 - Day 71
16 Ober Strasse
Dedesfeltd, Germany
1500 Hours
Herb stopped at a restaurant just outside of Frankfurt and the three of them enjoyed a hearty German meal of roast pork and potatoes. They talked about work and life in Germany for Herb, while Mary filled him in on the latest NYPD gossip, to a limited degree, so as not to upset the Chief of D’s. After an hour, they were back on the road and shortly before 1500 hours, the steeple of the church in Dedesfeltd was visible in the distance. This small Renaissance-era town was surrounded by vineyards, being one of the largest wine producing areas in Europe.
As they entered the town, it all looked so familiar to Pat O’Connor.
“It’s just like I remembered, although I haven’t been here since the late 90’s.”
As Herb maneuvered the Mercedes through the tiny cobblestone streets, they passed the Fest Hall.
“If we went inside the Fest Hall there is probably a picture of me playing trumpet with a New Orleans jazz group. The last time I played here, it was hanging just inside the door.”
Finally, Herb slowed the Mercedes and Pat and Mary nsensed they were getting close.
“When we turn the next corner, Pellegrino’s cottage will be about half a block up on the right. The address is 16 Ober Strasse. I won’t slow down much, but we’ll take a peek.”
They passed the cottage and saw nothing. Herb continued to the edge of the town and parked in a supermarket parking lot. He reached under the seat and flipped up a small laptop which was mounted to a swivel arm. He pressed a few buttons and a split screen appeared showing two views of 16 Ober Strasse. Now they would wait.
The supermarket was crowded with the town’s people. German women usually went to the market daily to buy food for dinner. Dinner was often the only hot meal of the day, with breakfast and lunch consisting of bread, cold cuts, and cheeses.
As darkness set, the cottage was still visible in the monitor, but there were no lights on. Pat thought of how much time he had spent in a car on surveillance when he was a detective in Queens. The smells were the same, cigarettes and black coffee. Pat and Mary didn’t smoke, but Herb Mueller, like many in Germany, smoked constantly. At 2230 hours, Herb received a call from another German detective. He was in position for the night. Herb fired up the Mercedes, and headed out of town. Pat was frustrated.
“What’s the plan, Herb?”
“Karl will watch the monitor until tomorrow around 1000. If Pellegrino is not spotted, we’ll pick it back up. Hopefully we’ll spot him in the next couple days.”
“Why don’t we just knock on the door?”
“I had rather catch him out of the house to avoid a stand-off.”
“It’s your call, Herb.” Pat assured him.
They headed back toward Frankfurt on the Autobahn. Mary was sleepy, but couldn’t s
leep with Herb pushing the Mercedes at over 100 miles-per-hour. Pat, on the other hand, loved the adrenaline rush.
Chapter 66
Thursday, March 31 - Day 72
16 Ober Strasse
Dedesfeltd, Germany
1000 Hours
Pat slept like a rock and was up early. He checked his emails and called the office and updated Bryan Flannery. He met Mary in the lobby for a hearty breakfast buffet, and they were picked up by Herb Mueller at 0900 hours. They zipped down the Autobahn and were soon back in the familiar town of Diedesfeldt.
The night surveillance team had not spotted any sign of Daniel Pellegrino. There were no lights and no cars. Herb Mueller was insistent on continuing the surveillance. As Pat got restless, he began to ask a lot of questions.
“Does he have a land-line phone we could call and see if he answers?”
“Not that we know of.” Herb said, shaking his head.
“How about a car? Do we have any idea what he drives?”
“We haven’t seen a car. My guess is he would have a rental.”
“Is there any chance he’s not in there?”
“Of course it’s possible, but I think it’s unlikely. We put these cameras up in the middle of the night and we’ve had someone monitoring them continuously.”
“I’m just getting a knot in my gut that something has gone wrong.”
“I think it’ll be okay, Chief. Mary, do you want to weigh in on this?” Herb asked.
“I’m probably more patient than the Chief, but I’d like to have some more options. He only has the entire planet as a getaway plan.”
Herb tapped his cigarette pack on the dash. It was 1130 hours. Pat’s cell phone buzzed for the first time in Germany.
“Pat O’Connor.”
“Hello, Chief, have you had any luck?” Bryan Flannery asked.
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