Leverage

by C. M. Sutter

  “Oh my God, that’s horrible. You said you have nothing to go on?”

  “Nothing that can identify the individuals who did this. There aren’t any ransom demands or that type of thing and I can’t even begin to imagine what they’re going through.”

  “Don’t go there, Sis. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Nah, but thanks. I’m sure I’ll be here most of the night. Just feed Polly and Porky, please. Give them each a kiss for me.” I exhaled a deep sigh.

  “You know I will, and you sound exhausted.”

  “I am, but this isn’t about me. We have to find J.T. and Julie as soon as humanly possible. Time isn’t on their side.” I hung up and poured myself a cup of coffee. I took the coffee, sandwich, and chips back to my office and plopped down at my desk.

  A knock sounded on my door just as I tossed the sandwich wrapper in the trash. It was Spelling. He peeked in and jerked his head toward the hallway. “Conference room. We have an update.”

  Chapter 13

  J.T. opened his groggy eyes. The loud sound of the outer door opening and closing woke him. That large empty warehouse was dark—too dark to see his former partner’s condition. He scooted to the left side of the pen and whispered. His voice was dry and cracked when he spoke. “Curt, wake up. Come on, buddy. I have to know if you’re okay.”

  Bright lights suddenly illuminated the building, and a fuzzy image headed J.T.’s way from across that wide-open space. The clip-clop of footsteps got closer, but J.T. still couldn’t make out the face.

  The deep voice spoke from fifty feet away. “I have a message for you.”

  J.T. squinted and rubbed his eyes against his bent knees. Something was wrong. He rubbed his eyes again and squeezed them open and closed. The blurred vision was still there, and the fact that he slept at all made no sense. He tried to focus upward and out beyond the broken windows, but the sun had long passed that side of the building. It had to be late in the day, meaning he had slept for hours.

  Those assholes put something in my food.

  He craned his neck toward Curt, who was balled up in a fetal position, his back facing J.T.

  J.T. whispered again, but this time with urgency. “Curt, wake up, man. Are you okay? Just move your hand if you can hear me.”

  A slight movement from Curt’s right index finger was enough to tell J.T. he was still hanging on.

  The man reached the enclosure, grasped the links, then gave them a hard shake. That time it wasn’t Anthony, it was Antonio, and he was likely trying to instill fear in them.

  J.T. stood and smirked at the man on the other side of the cage. “I see you’ve changed out of your Jolly Green Giant suit. So, what’s the message, goon, and why did you drug me?”

  “I didn’t—Anthony did—and the message is from Mr. Vetcher. He’s changed his mind and decided not to be so generous. He wants your log-in and password information by morning.”

  “Tell him to go to hell. I’m still waiting to see my sister.”

  “He was certain you’d say that too. He told me to do this so you’d realize just how serious he is.”

  “Yeah, what’s that, big guy?”

  The ear-piercing sound of bullets firing echoed off the walls. In an instant, Antonio pulled out J.T.’s Glock 22 from under his suit jacket and shot off two rounds—one, a direct hit to the back of Curt’s head.

  “No, no, no! You son of a bitch! I’ll kill you—I’ll kill all of you! Tell that coward boss of yours to face me, that piece of shit!”

  Antonio turned and walked away. J.T. kicked the links of the enclosure and cursed the man who disappeared from sight. He yelled out his intentions for all of them, but his threats went unanswered.

  Chapter 14

  We filed into the conference room and took our seats. Spelling stood at the head of the table and began with the latest update.

  “I’ve just gotten word from Captain Groves of the Whitefish Bay PD that his officers did see a few seconds of activity at the back of the condo complex from the office building’s security tape. Apparently, one man in green coveralls stood at the back door for a minute before it opened outward and he disappeared into the building.”

  I added my two cents. “And according to what you said earlier, that door only opens from the inside. The man was waiting for his partner to let him in just like we thought.”

  “True enough, but they didn’t see the second man on the tape. He stayed within the doorway and was hidden by the shadows. They’re sending a copy of the video to us and one to Joe. It should be landing in my in-box any minute. The good thing is, the captain said his officers saw the man look straight back, only for a second, but that may be enough for Joe to get a hit with the facial recognition software.” Spelling jerked his head toward Val. “Would you mind grabbing my laptop off my desk?”

  “Not at all, sir. I’ll be right back.”

  We waited only a minute and Val returned with the laptop cradled in the crook of her arm. She set it on the table, and Spelling logged in. We gathered behind him and looked over his shoulder.

  “Okay, here’s the footage.” He hit the play button, and we watched as a man rounded the west side of the building and stood at the back door. In a minute’s time, the door pushed outward, and he crossed over the threshold. Within that minute, he scanned the horizon from left to right. The camera caught his entire face when he looked straight back.

  “There! Gotcha!” I pointed, and Spelling paused the footage. “If Joe can’t get enough markers to hit on that guy’s face, nobody can.”

  “Give him a call, Jade, and see if he got the file yet. We need a rush on that man’s identity and the plate number for that Mercedes.”

  I pushed back my chair and stood. “Got it, boss.” I walked out into the hallway and made the call.

  “Joe, it’s Jade. What’s the word on the plate number?”

  “Yeah, no luck there. That license plate is registered to a 2005 Nissan Sentra—a far cry from a late model Mercedes sedan.”

  “Crap. So it’s stolen and we have no idea who really owns that Mercedes, which is most likely stolen too.”

  “I’d have to agree with you on that. It looks like a video file just came in, though. You want to walk me through that one?”

  “Yep, that’s why I’m calling. The tape is from an office building’s rooftop camera, and it catches the back of the condo complex. One of the two guys who posed as the landscape crew shows up on the footage and waits at the back door. We’re assuming the other man sneaked in through the overhead when somebody pulled out since the back door can only be opened from the inside.” I paced the hallway as I talked. “There’s a split second where the guy at the back looks directly at the camera, even though he certainly didn’t realize it. We need you to do your magic with the facial recognition software and see if you come up with a hit. Even though there’s only one person we can see, it’s a start. If that guy has a record, then maybe the other one will show up as one of his known associates.”

  “Sounds good, and I’ll get started right away. I’ll call as soon as I have a yes or no for you.”

  “Thanks, Joe. I’ll keep my fingers crossed.” I clicked off and rejoined everyone in the conference room. I spoke as I took my seat. “I gave Joe a brief rundown of the footage and told him he’d see the guy looking straight back toward the camera about a minute and a half into the video. Joe also said the plates on the Mercedes are stolen. They don’t belong to that car.”

  An audible groan filled the room.

  “I knew this wasn’t going to be easy,” Cam said.

  “All right, until we hear back from Joe, let’s continue searching the tapes for more sightings of those two men. It’s the only thing we have to work with for now. I want to see them and that car in the same frame. One of them drove it there, or there’s a third mystery person involved.” Spelling closed the laptop and took it back to his office.

  I was restless as I sat at my computer and searched the footage. I did
n’t find anything more from that morning. I glanced at the time—7:18. My phone hadn’t rung yet, and my optimism was fading.

  “I got one of them!” Val’s voice rang out into the hallway.

  I leapt out of my chair and rounded the doorway to the next office. The rest of the group was on their way in.

  “Here”—she pointed—“it’s Monday morning, and he just stepped into the frame.”

  “Check it out,” I said. “He’s wearing a suit this time and an expensive looking one, I might add.”

  Cam knelt to Val’s right and maximized her computer screen with the mouse. “Funny how these guys always stare at the ground or look to the side. It’s like they’re mindful of possible cameras in the area, plus the sunglasses help hide their identities.”

  “Well, they didn’t wear sunglasses this morning. I wonder if—” The ringing phone on my desk interrupted me. I bolted out the door to answer it. The caller ID showed it was Joe. I said a quick prayer in hopes that he had something useful.

  “I have news, Jade. I have a hit on the man at the back door.”

  “Hang on, I need to get everyone into the conference room. Call back on my cell so I can put you on speakerphone.” I hung up and gathered everyone into the conference room for the second time that evening. Each of us had paper and a pen handy. My cell rang just as Spelling entered and walked to the head of the table. He gave me a nod as he took his seat. “Hello. Yep, I’m putting you on speakerphone, Joe. Okay, we’re all here. Go ahead.”

  Joe began by telling us he got a positive facial recognition hit on the man at the back door of the complex. His name was Antonio Pirelli, and he had an extensive rap sheet.

  Spelling nodded. “Italian, just like I thought.”

  “That’s correct, sir,” Joe said. “Apparently, the Pirellis are a well-known Chicago-based crime family that works for hire. They’ll do anything, really, depending on how much money they’re offered. Antonio was recently released from Stateville Prison after doing a nickel term for aggravated assault.”

  “What do we have on his known associates and family members?”

  “He has three sisters and two brothers. The one I find interesting is Anthony, his elder brother by two years. Based on the video of the two men in green coveralls standing on the front lawn, I’d venture to say the other could very well be Anthony. He has a similar rap sheet and is built very much like Antonio—large, stocky, and capable of brute force.”

  “Good work, Joe. What age are we talking about? Could the old man or uncles be involved?”

  “Possibly, sir, but I doubt if it’s on the grunt work end of things. The old man, Giancarlo, and his brothers, Leo and Mauricio, are all in their late sixties. Anthony is forty, and Antonio, thirty-eight.”

  “Okay. Tell Forensics to put a rush on those prints. From the way it sounds, if they belong to anyone in the Pirelli family, they’ll be on file.” Spelling dug his fists into his eyes. “Now all we need to know is why they were hired to go after J.T. and by whom.”

  We ended the call, and Joe forwarded Anthony and Antonio’s rap sheets to each of our computers.

  “Jade, get on the horn with the Chicago PD and find out everything you can on that family. Tell them to get to the Pirelli compound and start hauling in family members. Somebody better start talking and fast.”

  Chapter 15

  The lights blasted J.T. in the face again. He looked up and stared at the men approaching. Anthony and Antonio headed toward the enclosure where Curt’s dead body lay. A body bag, draped over Antonio’s shoulder, swayed with his stride. Neither man acknowledged J.T. or even looked his way. Antonio stood a few feet back as Anthony unlocked the gate and stepped inside. After rolling Curt over, Anthony cocked his head toward Antonio.

  “Come on. Let’s put him in the bag. He’s already getting stiff.”

  Antonio pulled the gate completely open and entered. He spread the black bag out onto the floor and unzipped it.

  With a smirk, he addressed J.T. “See what happens when you won’t cooperate? Remember what I told you earlier, Fed. You have until morning or your sister gets plugged in the head too.”

  “Let that piece of shit Mr. Vetcher know I’ll give him the information he wants, but I have to see my sister first. I need his word that he’ll release her after I tell him what he wants to hear.”

  Anthony and Antonio chuckled as they dropped Curt’s rigid body into the bag and zipped it. With their hands slipped through the looped handles, they dragged the bag out of the cage.

  Anthony looked back at J.T. and grinned. “Get some sleep, Fed. Tomorrow may be your worst day yet.”

  Antonio stopped and reached into his coat pocket. He pulled out a bag of crackers and tossed it through the links. “Eat your supper. You won’t see us again until tomorrow.”

  “How about taking these cuffs off, then? What harm is one night going to do? You can put them back on me in the morning, and your boss won’t be the wiser. There’s no way I can get out of here, anyway.”

  Anthony gave Antonio a nod.

  “Turn around and put your hands against the fence.”

  J.T. did as he was told and backed up with his wrists against the links. Antonio fished through his pants pocket for the handcuff key and pulled it out. He unsnapped the cuffs and pulled them through the opening next to the gate, then he dropped them to the floor.

  “Don’t make me regret this.” He turned his back to J.T., grabbed the handle of the body bag, and disappeared around the corner with Anthony.

  Moments later, the lights went out, and J.T. was left alone in the blackened room. He sat in the corner and ate the crackers as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark. He rubbed his torn, aching wrists, then stood and paced.

  I’ve got to get out of this damn cage and find Julie. Tomorrow might be too late to save either of us.

  Finally able to see shadows in the dimly lit warehouse, J.T. caught a glimpse of the handcuffs lying on the floor just outside his enclosure. He pulled off his belt and tried to snag the cuffs with the belt buckle. Somehow, between the cuffs and the belt, he was sure he could figure a way out of the cage.

  Chapter 16

  The sounds of pounding startled me, but when the loud cursing began, I was sure Spelling had news—and it couldn’t be good. I jumped from my chair and met with the rest of our team in the corridor. We headed to Spelling’s office at the end of the hall.

  Through the half-cracked-open door we saw him, his head buried in his hands and his elbows on the desk.

  “Sir?” I pushed the door open wider. “What happened?”

  “It’s Curt—Curt Belmont.”

  I turned to the group for help. I didn’t know who Curt Belmont was.

  Cam scooted around me and entered Spelling’s office. “What happened to Curt, boss?”

  Spelling palmed his eye sockets and looked up. “It’s bad, guys—really bad. A motorist called it in. They were driving a few car lengths behind a dark-colored van when suddenly the back doors flew open and a body bag was pushed out. They had to slam on their brakes so they wouldn’t run over it. The van disappeared into the night. Whoever those sons of bitches are dumped his body right in front of the parking garage to our downtown headquarters.”

  Cam raked his hair with both hands. “You’re saying it was Curt? Curt is dead?”

  Spelling nodded. I was sure he was overwhelmed with grief and anxiety. “Shot nearly point blank in the head and chest. Somebody is making a statement, and it’s probably the same person who has J.T. and Julie.”

  I turned to Val and pulled her out into the hallway. “Who is Curt?”

  Val was visibly shaken, and tears pooled in her eyes. “Curt used to be J.T.’s partner in the Violent Crimes unit downtown. He decided to stay in that unit when we opened the Serial Crimes Division here. He wasn’t one who wanted to be gone often. His mom lives in the northern Chicago suburbs, and he goes there every weekend to check on her.”

  “Then why wasn’t a red flag
raised? Today is Wednesday.” When the tears began rolling down Val’s cheeks, I put my arm around her shoulder.

  “I don’t know, Jade. Maybe he took a personal day.” Val wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “Curt was such a nice, fun-loving guy. Who could have done this, and why?”

  Spelling cleared his throat and pushed back his chair. “Let’s go. We’ve got work to do downtown. The local agents and the PD have that street and the scene blocked off. Forensics and the ME just arrived, according to SSA Hopkins. I want everyone in the parking structure in five minutes.”

  I rushed back to my office and shot off a quick text to Amber saying not to worry, I had to work late. I secured my shoulder holster, slipped my badge on the lanyard over my neck, made sure I had a notepad and pen, and grabbed my purse. I looked back at my desk before I turned off the light—I was good to go. I waited in the hallway for the rest of the team, and we left together.

  “We’re taking two cruisers, lights and sirens engaged.” Spelling jerked his head at Cam. “You’re driving that one”—he pointed to his left—“and I’ll take this one. Jade, jump in with me.”

  “Yes, sir.” I climbed into the passenger seat, slammed the door, and secured my belt. Within seconds, the cruisers hit the street, and we were on our way to the scene.

  I turned toward Spelling. “What can you tell me about J.T. and Curt’s relationship?”

  He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts for a minute. “They were partners between 2011 and early 2016 when we moved our office to Glendale. Curt has”—he paused—“or had a brother in Omaha and his mom in Waukegan, Illinois. Why his missing work today didn’t alarm anyone, I don’t know. I’m sure we’ll get more details after talking to his immediate supervisor.”

  “Is that SSA Hopkins?”

  Spelling nodded. “He was notified the second the agents realized who was in the body bag. He’s at the downtown office along with most of the crew and the city police.”