He called Lucy.
“How are you?” he asked.
“We couldn’t stop to see Hans,” she said. “Not that it would have helped. He’s still unconscious.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“I’m hiding in my room because I don’t want to face anyone yet. No one knows the truth. Everyone thinks it’s an accident, and I have to hold up that myth.”
“I’m planning on flying back tonight, though it might be late. I have a theory I need to run by you. What if Weber was an anomaly? What if her murder was because she was digging into Dominic Theissen’s accident?”
“Okay, I can see that, but where do Tony and Hans fit in?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“If connected, there’s two people involved.”
“I thought the same thing. But what if Weber was just a quasi-innocent bystander? We just found out that she was looking into Theissen’s accident. Patrick interviewed one of the gangbangers who pled to involuntary manslaughter and he can’t identify everyone involved in the brawl.”
“You’re thinking someone started it.”
“And if that’s the case, he was targeted. Is there any way to find out if Hans, Tony, Theissen, and Stokes worked any other cases together?”
“I don’t know. I’d have to ask Noah if there’s a way to search the data with agent parameters.”
“And more complex, I’d like a matrix of cases where any three of the four were involved, and any two of the four.”
“What might be simpler is to look at Weber’s articles and see what cases she wrote about, then compare that with the agent lists. If there is any—you’re talking about four cops who can’t talk anymore.”
“But that’s presupposing that she is a specific target, and I’m thinking she is a target because of something she learned. She was killed the same day she pulled all Theissen’s files. I think that’s the connection.”
“I’ll find out and call you tonight.”
“Thanks. And I’ll talk to Suzanne about it as well. Be careful, Lucy.”
“You, too.”
Sean hung up and frowned.
“What’s going on?” Suzanne asked.
“Lucy is worried about Hans,” he said. Then he ran his theory by Suzanne. “Can you think of a way to run it?”
“No, but our analysts might. Except I still have them working on the notes Tony and I found in Rosemary’s attic.”
“Maybe that’s exactly where we should start—find out what stories she wrote that quoted Theissen, then dig up those cases and find out who else was involved.”
“We’re looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“But we have one more thing coming our way—a suspect.”
“Rewind. Why do we have a suspect?”
“The unidentified guy in the subway tape. Patrick will be here in”—he looked at his watch—“twenty-five minutes. With the original security disk. And maybe we can round up that Bartz guy again. Because we know that Rosemary was writing a book about the Cinderella Strangler, but she was also looking into her friend Theissen’s death. She could have been killed for either reason.”
“Or something completely different,” Suzanne said.
*
“Watch the guy in the gray jacket and dark baseball cap,” Patrick told Sean, Suzanne and DeLucca thirty minutes later.
Patrick had come through with the original digital security disk from Theissen’s accident. “He’s already there when Theissen comes down the stairs. There he is,” Patrick said, pointing to a clean-cut man wearing slacks, a dark polo shirt, and baseball cap. He could be twenty or forty, the quality was poor and the images in black-and-white. The perspective was distorted because of the wide-angle camera.
The suspect was watching Theissen as he came down the stairs. A group of seven teenage boys walked behind him, a bit rowdy. This was the main station near Citi Field. According to the report, Theissen used the subway every day to commute to and from work, even though he left at different times. This was the end of his day.
“I watched the earlier footage,” Patrick said, “and Mr. Ball Cap was there for twelve minutes, coming in on one train and just standing. But during that time, several trains, local and express, went through the station. He didn’t get on any of them.”
As they watched, a group of four—two girls, two boys—got off one train and crossed the platform. The two groups eyed each other. It was crowded, the end of rush hour. Ball Cap moved between the two groups and said something to one of them, then bumped him. The kid responded by pushing him, but as Sean watched he realized that though Ball Cap had been pushed, the reaction was aimed at the kid on the other side of him.
What had Ball Cap said? Had he passed the blame for the verbal assault off on another person?
Theissen turned and kept his eye on the groups, and Ball Cap moved around the outside. There were two distinct situations—one was the pending brawl and the people drawn into it; everyone else moved to the perimeter, not wanting to get in the middle. Theissen stayed on the periphery, watching as a cop might to determine if the situation was getting out of control.
Ball Cap pushed Bascomb, the guy in prison for involuntary manslaughter, directly into Theissen. Theissen stumbled back. On the surface, Ball Cap appeared to be trying to get away from the fray.
“Did you see that?” Patrick said.
Everyone had missed it, so Patrick went back.
“Watch his foot,” Patrick said.
As the scene replayed, Sean kept his eyes on Ball Cap’s feet. After he pushed Bascomb into Theissen, Ball Cap moved to get away and in the process tripped Theissen as Theissen staggered back and tried to catch himself. The retired agent stumbled and Ball Cap used the crowd as a shield to slip away as Theissen fell onto the tracks.
“He kicked him,” DeLucca said. “When Theissen stumbled, Ball Cap tripped him, then kicked him using the crowd’s movement to hide his attack.”
“Exactly. The fight was a diversion he caused. At first glance, he looks like he was defending himself, but when you see the whole thing and focus on his individual actions, it’s deliberate,” Patrick said. “Now here’s the interesting thing—I talked to the transit cops and they said there was another incident very similar two days before. They don’t keep the tapes this long unless there’s an open investigation, but one of the officers said he remembered it because when he was called to the brawl he thought, Not again. Theissen was at the first brawl as well, and gave a witness report. What if Ball Cap attempted it once and failed, or he instigated the scuffle and figured out how to use the reactions to his advantage?”
“We can’t use this to ID the guy. He looks like half the white guys in New York,” Suzanne said.
“He’s very aware of the camera location,” Sean said.
“So we reopen the Theissen accident as a homicide,” DeLucca said. “I’ll talk to my chief.”
“I’ll talk to my boss as well,” Suzanne said. “If he was attacked because of his status as a retired federal agent, or because of a case he worked, we have jurisdiction. He’s one of ours.”
“Joint investigation,” DeLucca said. “This is the New York subway; we have a vested interest in security improvements.”
“Bartz gave us shit for the sketch artist, but he might recognize the guy again,” Suzanne said. “Sean, can you get me a clean image of Mr. Ball Cap that we can show to our street thief?”
“We already let him go,” DeLucca said. “He has to report to court on the misdemeanor charges next week, but I’ll ask Kramer where he hangs.”
Sean sat down at the computer and worked up a digitally enhanced image, but he could do nothing better than a shadowed profile. But the profile was sharp enough that someone who knew the guy well might recognize him.
Suzanne stared at the photo. “Hmm. A little better.”
Sean asked, “Do you know him?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. But—there’s a little tickle in my m
emory.”
DeLucca said, “He could have popped up at Weber’s crime scene. I’ll have our photographer send us the photos of the crowd.”
“That’s probably it. It’s recent. Damn, I wish we had a better shot.”
Patrick said, “I made a copy and will go through it frame by frame to see if I can get another image of him. It’ll take some time, but I’m all yours.”
“We still don’t know if Tony stopped anywhere else between when he left you and when he boarded the plane,” Sean said.
“Would he have had time?” Suzanne asked. “He boarded his plane at six forty p.m. Do you know when he went through security?”
Sean had already pulled the flight information. “He printed his boarding pass from a kiosk at six oh four p.m. He was cutting it close, but he didn’t check any bags.”
“And Bridget Weber said he left her town house after five. In traffic, it’s at least forty-five minutes to LaGuardia from the Upper East Side, and that’s the peak of rush hour.”
DeLucca said, “He would only have had time to stop if it was on the way and he kept the taxi waiting. It’s a bitch to get a cab during rush hour.”
Sean considered that maybe the only stop Tony made was at the Webers’. “I have a call in to Noah to ask if Tony had the notebook on him. Maybe no one has unpacked his overnight bag yet.” He glanced at Patrick. “Then we’ll head back to D.C. I have a lead on Peter McMahon aka Gray I need to follow up on in person.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
FBI Academy
Lucy wasn’t at all comfortable with the role of spy.
She went to the gym hoping to avoid running into anyone she knew. Since new agents preferred to work out in the mornings or evenings, she usually had the gym to herself mid-afternoon. Today, however, Harden was running Carter and Eddie through intensive drills. Eddie looked angry and Carter looked ill.
She stretched, then worked with free weights, hoping the guys would be done soon and she could use the equipment unobserved.
“Take five,” Harden told Carter and Eddie after fifteen minutes. He approached Lucy. “I’m going to send Nix and Acosta to the pool for laps, if you want to join us.”
She didn’t, but at the same time a hard swim sounded like exactly what she needed to relax.
“Are they being punished for something?”
“Breaking curfew. Marines,” he added under his breath. “Ten minutes, meet you at the pool.” He walked back to Carter and Eddie.
Lucy wasn’t sure exactly what Harden meant, considering that they had the weekend off. She grabbed her swimsuit from her bag and changed in the women’s locker room.
Ten minutes later, Lucy was cutting through the water with sure, even strokes. This was exactly what she needed to leach the tension from her muscles and focus on something other than Hans, Tony, and her unwanted role as spy.
After the swim, Lucy was surprised to see Noah talking to Harden. She dried off and walked over to Carter and Eddie. She pulled off her swim cap. “What did you two do?”
Eddie said, “Broke curfew.”
“You didn’t sign out for the weekend?”
“Bingo. Carter was wasted, I was driving.”
Harden called out, “Acosta, Nix, you’re both mine for the week, but you’re done for today.”
“Sleep, then dinner,” Carter said. “See you at the mess hall?” Carter asked Lucy.
“I’ll be there.” She started to walk out with them when Noah called, “Kincaid, a minute please?”
Carter gave her an odd look, and Lucy shrugged. Harden left Noah and Lucy alone in the pool room.
Noah said, “I e-mailed your private account with the whereabouts of every new agent on Saturday from midnight until two a.m. Half were on campus. I’m verifying their background information, but you also have access and you need to be on alert for any discrepancies.”
She nodded, but looked at the door, hoping Carter, Eddie and the others would forgive her when this all came to light.
Noah eyed her. “What’s troubling you?”
“Other than the obvious? My mentor is dead and Hans is in a coma?”
“Lucy, I know this is hard—”
“I can handle it,” she snapped.
“You’re angry.”
She turned away and stared at the pool. The water was settling down from the laps. Watching it calmed her. Water always gave her peace.
“It’s being a spy,” she said quietly. “On my friends. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Noah, but I don’t have a lot of friends.”
“You have many friends.” Noah sounded confused.
She shook her head and faced him. “I have lots of family, and I love them, but my friends are few and far between. I haven’t kept in touch with anyone from high school or college. No one. I thought—” She shook her head. “Never mind.”
“Lucy, you know you can trust me.”
She shouldn’t be talking to Noah about this, but she was tired and upset. “I thought I was forming lifelong relationships with some of the people here.” She jerked her head toward the door. “Carter and Eddie, for example.”
“You’ll be happy to know they’re in the clear. They went out with a bunch of their Marine buddies from the base, didn’t come in until nearly three in the morning. Fortunately, Acosta doesn’t drink and we don’t have a DUI situation, but it was still a serious breach.”
Lucy sighed in relief. “Two down, thirty-one to go,” she mumbled.
“You still can’t talk about this, even with them.”
“I know. I don’t have to like it.” She took her hair band off her wrist and put her hair up.
“Chief O’Neal and I cleared Tom Harden first thing this morning and I just gave him a quick debrief. If you need to talk and I’m busy, you can go to him. But still, be discreet. You might want to touch bases with him now—he wants to talk to you.”
“I wouldn’t make a good CIA agent.”
Noah cracked a grin. “I don’t think you would. But you’re going to make a great FBI agent.”
If I stay.
But she didn’t say that to Noah.
*
Lucy found Tom Harden in his small office off the gym. Harden wasn’t a special agent; he was one of the few instructors who was a civilian. He’d been in the Army special forces and when he got out ran his own gym while getting his degree in physical training and nutrition. Five years ago Quantico brought him on to lead their revamped new-agent PT program.
“Noah said you wanted to see me,” Lucy said.
“Sit down.” He motioned to the only other chair in his office.
She did, antsy.
“Hans is a personal friend of mine.”
“Have you been to the hospital? How is he?”
“I went by this morning. I have one of the nurses sending me updates. There’s been no change.”
She let out a long breath.
“I’ll let you know if there’s a change in his status,” Harden said.
“Thank you.” She looked at him, curious. “You’re not a federal agent and Hans was never in the Army. How do you know him?”
“In 1999, a year before I left the Army, I was tasked with protective detail in Kosovo. The FBI agents and scientists were sent over to identify victims of genocide. There were several operations where small groups of agents went out to remote burial sites, we had a few close calls with insurgents, and Hans and I remained friends after it was over. He told me about the opening here five years ago. I never planned on working for the federal government—I liked having my own gym. But I was given a lot of leeway to develop this program, and I owe that to Hans. I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished here, and more confident that we’re sending out agents who are both physically and mentally prepared for the tasks they face.”
“No complaints from me.” Harden worked them thoroughly, but Lucy saw the purpose in everything they did and had personally benefited from it.
He smiled. “Not you, but not everyone is a
s in shape or dedicated to staying that way. Other than your very bad habit of eating granola bars to replace meals.”
That he knew this detail about her bothered her. “How do you know?”
“In light of what’s going on—Noah briefed me—I need to tell you something. Hans asked me to test you. Off-the-books. I agreed because it’s my job, but it was also before I knew you. The pull-ups the other day was a test. I know what you fear, and I needed to make sure you can handle it.”
The truth sunk in. “You knew Hans got me in.”
“No. Not until yesterday afternoon. After you left, he told me, which explained why he wanted to assess you differently. Harder than others. I put the pressure on you for the past four weeks to confirm you can handle it. That part’s over—with the investigation right now, I need you to trust me. That’s why I’m coming clean.”
Lucy felt manipulated and upset but, to her surprise, not as angry as she thought she should be. “Who else?”
“Who else was testing you? No one.”
“Are you certain?”
“Hans doesn’t trust a lot of people, but he would have told me.”
“He told you I quit.”
“You’re still here.”
“My ID was at the desk. I guess he didn’t accept it.”
“For what it’s worth, completely unbiased, I don’t think you should quit. If I was going to pick two agents I’d want on my team, it would be you and Carter Nix.”
“Why Carter over Eddie?”
“Carter thinks for himself and Eddie is a soldier at heart. We need both types in the Bureau, and I love military folks coming in for a second career. But if I were building a team, I’d want loyalty, dedication, intelligence, and physical stamina. And I’d want those who see more than what’s on the surface. Instincts. Working as a team is important. But using your instincts to benefit the team is crucial. Because when you’re in the foxhole with someone, you have to be able to trust them with your life. And sometimes, that means breaking the rules.”
She smiled. Sean would like Harden.
“What Noah is having you do isn’t easy, but it’s necessary,” he continued. “He wouldn’t put you in this position if he didn’t think you could handle it.”
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