Silent Prey

by John Sandford

A cab pulled to the curb and Lucas hurried over, three seconds ahead of a woman who sprinted from a door farther up the street. He hopped in, leaving the door open. Fell was behind him, still in the street. "Get in."

  "We gotta call..."

  "There's more going on here than you know about," Lucas said. "I'm not Internal Affairs, but there's more going on."

  Fell looked at him for a long beat, then said, "I knew it," and climbed in the cab. As the cab pulled away, the woman who'd run for it, back in the doorway, gave them the finger.

  They inched silently uptown through the nightmare traffic, the rain growing heavier. Fell was tight-lipped, agitated. The cab dropped them on Houston, Lucas paid. A squad car rolled by, the cops looking carefully at Lucas before going on. They dodged into a convenience store, damp from the misty summer rain.

  "All right," said Fell, fists on her hips. "Let's have it."

  "I don't know what's going to happen, but it could be weird," he said. "I'm trying to catch Robin Hood. That's why they brought me here, from Minneapolis."

  Her mouth dropped open. "Are you nuts?"

  "No. You can either come along or you can take a hike, but I don't want you fuckin' this up," Lucas said.

  "Well, I'll come," she said. "But Robin Hood? Tell me."

  "Some other time. I gotta make a call of my own...."

  Lily was with O'Dell, just coming off the Brooklyn Bridge into Manhattan, ten minutes from Police Plaza.

  "Have you heard?" she asked.

  "What?"

  "Bekker was spotted at Washington Square, but took off. This was around three o'clock. We've got people all over the place, but nothing since...."

  "That sounds right, because I think we know where he is. Fell and me. And it's up in SoHo."

  "What?" And he heard her say, "Lucas says he's got Bekker."

  O'Dell's voice replaced Lily's. "Where are you?"

  "We're at Citibank and we're stuck here. I think Bekker's holed up with an old lady in SoHo, but I'm not sure. I'm going up there to take a quick informal look around before I call in the troops. I just wanted Lily to know, in case something misfires...."

  "Besides, if you called now and you're stuck downtown, Kennett would get all the credit for the bust," O'Dell said with his wet chuckle. "Is there any possibility that what you've done, whatever it is, has tipped off Bekker?"

  "No. But it'll take us a while to get up there; it's raining here, and cabs are impossible."

  "Yeah, it's raining here, too.... Okay, go ahead. But take care. Just in case there's a problem, why don't you give me the address, and I'll get Lily to start a search warrant. That'll help explain the delay, why you didn't call it in."

  "All right..." Lucas gave him the address, and Lily came on the line. "Careful," she said. "After your... look around... give us a ring. We'll have the backup waiting."

  Lucas hung up, and Fell asked, "All right-what's going on?"

  "We're gonna surveil for a while...."

  "Surveil what?" Another cop car rolled by, and again they got the look.

  "This Lacey woman's building, for a start. Bekker knows me, I don't want to go right up front..."

  "I know where we can get a hat," Fell said. "And it's on the way...."

  They dodged from doorway to canopy, staying out of the rain as much as they could. Fell finally led Lucas into a clothing store that apparently hadn't changed either stock or customers since '69. Every male customer other than Lucas was bearded, and three of the four women customers wore tie-dye. Lucas bought an ill-fitting leather porkpie hat. In the mirror, he looked like a hippie designer's idea of an Amazon explorer.

  "Quit grumbling, you'd look cute in the right light," Fell said, hurrying him along.

  "I look like an asshole," Lucas said. "In any light."

  "What can I tell you?" she said. "You ain't posing for Esquire. "

  The rain had slowed further, but the streets were wet and slick, stinking of two centuries of grime emulsified by the quick shower. They found Lacey's building, cruised it front and back. The back wall was windowless brick. A weathered shed, or lean-to, folded against the lower wall. The gate in the chain-link fence had been recently opened, and car tracks cut through the low spotty weeds to the shed.

  Lucas walked to the edge of the lot, where he had the sharpest angle on the shed. "Look at this," he said.

  Fell peered through the fence. The back end of a rounded chrome bumper was just visible inside the shed. "Sonofabitch, it's a Bug," she breathed. She grabbed his arm. "Lucas, we gotta call."

  "Lily and O'Dell are taking care of it," he said.

  "I mean Kennett. He's our supervisor. Christ, we're cutting out the boss...."

  "Soon," Lucas promised. "I want to sit and watch for a few more minutes."

  They walked around front, and Lucas picked out a store a hundred feet up the street from Lacey's, on the opposite side, an African rug-and-artifact gallery. The owner was a deep-breasted Lebanese woman in a black turtlenecked silk dress. She nodded, nervous, and said, "Of course," when they showed their badges. She brought chairs and they sat at an angle to the window, among draperies and wicker bookcases, watching the street.

  "What if he goes out the back?" asked Fell.

  "He won't. There're cops all over the place. He's holed up."

  "Then what are we waiting for?"

  "For some guys. Robin Hood and his merry men. If nothing happens in a half-hour, we go in...."

  "Would you like some cookies?" the Lebanese store owner asked, a touch of anxiety in her voice. She was twisting her hands, and looked, Lucas thought, remarkably like the wicked-witch stepmother in Snow White, if he had his Disney movies right. "Baklava, maybe... ?"

  "No, thanks, really," Lucas said. "We're fine. We might want to use your phone."

  "Yes, surely..." The woman gestured at a black telephone next to the cash register and retired to the rear of the shop, where she perched on a high stool and continued to rub her hands.

  "Eat her goddamn baklava and your nuts'd probably wind up sealed in a bottle with a genie," Lucas muttered.

  Fell glanced back and said, "Shh," but smiled and shook her head. "Fuckin' midwestern white guys, it must be something out there, wall-to-wall Wasps...."

  "Look," Lucas said.

  Two men in sport coats and slacks were walking up the street, not looking at Lacey's building. One was beefy, the other rail-thin. Their sport coats were too heavy for a New York summer, the kind of coat called "year-round" by the department stores, too hot in summer, not warm enough in winter. The beefy one walked stiffly, as though something were wrong with his back; the thin one showed a cast on his left arm.

  "Cops," Fell said. She stood up. "They look like cops."

  "The sonofabitch with the cast is the guy who whacked me, I think," Lucas said. Fell took a step toward the door, but Lucas caught her by the arm and said, "Wait, wait, wait..." and backed toward the counter and picked up the phone, still watching the two cops. They passed Lacey's building, strolling, talking too animatedly, phony, walked on until they were in front of the next building, then stopped.

  Lucas punched Lily's office number into the telephone. She picked it up on the second ring. "I'm at Lacey's place...."

  "How'd you get... ?"

  "I lied. And the Robin Hoods just walked in, we're watching them across the street. So it's O'Dell...."

  "Can't be. He hasn't touched a phone."

  "What?"

  "I'm with him now. In his office."

  "Shit..."

  Across the street, the Robin Hoods had turned and had started back toward Lacey's. One drew a pistol while the other dropped a long-handled sledge from beneath his jacket.

  "Get me backup..." Lucas said. "Jesus-they're going in. Get me backup now. "

  Lucas dropped the phone back on the hook. "Let's go," he said. "Get on my arm, really drag on it, like we had a few too many."

  They went out the door and Lucas, hat tipped down, wrapped an arm around Fell's shoulder and put
his face close to hers. The two cops paused just before they passed the windows in front of Lacey's, looked around one more time, saw Lucas and Fell fifty feet away. Lucas pushed Fell into a building front with one hip, groped at a breast with his free hand. She pushed him away, and the two cops went to the door.

  They were running now.

  The cop with the hammer stopped, pivoted, swinging his hip like a golfer. Backswing and drive, the hammer flashing overhead.

  The hammerhead hit the door just at the handle and it exploded inward, glass breaking, wood splintering.

  The cop with the gun and the cast went through; the other dropped the hammer and drew his pistol. Then he went in, crouched, focused, straight ahead.

  "Go," said Lucas. His.45 was in his hand, and he was at the door in three seconds. Through the door. The two cops were inside, their pistols pointing up an open stairway, and Lucas dropped in the doorway, screaming, "Police, freeze."

  "We're cops, we're cops...." The cop nearest Lucas kept his gun pointed at the stairs.

  "Drop the piece, drop, drop it, God damn it, or I'll blow your fuckin' ass off, drop it...."

  "We're cops, you asshole...." The heavyset cop was half turned toward him, his gun still pointed up the stairs. The pistol was black with a smooth, plastic look about it, a high-capacity Glock 9mm. This guy wasn't using the issue crap from the department.

  "Drop it..."

  Fell came in behind, her gun out, searching for a target, Lucas feeling the black barrel of the cut-off Colt.38 next to his ear.

  "Drop it," Lucas screamed again.

  The slat-thin cop, who was closest to the door, dropped his weapon, and Lucas focused on the other, who was still looking uncertainly up the stairs. The disarmed cop said, "Jesus, you asshole, we're plainclothes for Bekker...."

  Lucas ignored him, focused on the other gun: "Said drop the fuckin' weapon, jerkweed; you assholes beat the shit out of me, and I'm not in the mood to argue. I'll fuckin' pull the trigger on you right now...."

  The cop stooped and laid his gun on the floor, glanced at his partner. "Listen..."

  "Shut up." Lucas looked at Fell. "Keep your gun up, Bekker's here somewhere."

  "Lucas, Jesus..." Fell said, but she kept the gun up.

  Lucas motioned the two cops to a steam radiator, tossed them a set of handcuffs. "I want to hear them click," he said.

  "You motherfucker, I oughta fuckin' pull your face off," the heavy one said.

  "I'd kill you if you tried," Lucas said simply. "Cuffs."

  "Motherfucker..." But the two cuffed themselves to the radiator pipe. Lucas looked up the stairs.

  "Now what?" asked Fell.

  "Backup's on the way, should be here." He kept the.45 pointed at the chained cops.

  "You're fuckin' up," said the thick cop.

  "Tell that to O'Dell," Lucas said.

  "What?" the cop said. He frowned, puzzled.

  Lucas shifted around behind him, his.45 pointed at the guy's ear. "I'm going for your ID, don't fuckin' move...." He slipped his hand inside the cop's coat pocket and came out with a badge case. "Now you," he said to the other one.

  When he had both IDs, he stepped back and flipped them open. "Clemson," he said. "A sergeant, and Jeese..." Lucas looked at the man with the cast, Clemson, and said, "That's what you yelled-you yelled `Jeese.' You thought he left you behind, running off like that. I thought you yelled `Jesus'..."

  "Here comes the cavalry," Fell said. A blue Plymouth jerked to a stop at the door, and they heard screeching tires from up the block. A uniform came through the door, his gun out.

  "Davenport and Fell," Lucas said to them, holding up his badge case. "Working for Kennett with the Bekker team. These guys are cops too, but they're cuffed for a good reason. I want them left like that, okay?"

  "What's going on?" the uniform asked. He was a sergeant, older, a little too heavy, uneasy about what he'd walked into. Another car screeched to a stop outside.

  "Politics," Lucas said. "Somebody's got their tit in a wringer and the top guys are going to have to sort it out later. But these guys will shoot you if they have a chance. They already shot one cop..."

  "Bullshit, motherfucker," said one of the cuffed cops.

  "... So stay cool. Their weapons are on the floor, but I haven't checked them for backup pieces, which they've probably got."

  "I don't know..."

  Two more uniforms squeezed in, their pistols in their hands.

  "Look, half the goddamn department will be here in five minutes," Lucas said. "If we're fucked up, we can always apologize to each other later. For now, just freeze the place."

  "What about you guys... ?" the uniform asked.

  "We're going upstairs. You stay here, don't let anybody or anything in or out. Just freeze the scene and be careful. Bekker might be down below, for all we know, and he's armed."

  "This is Bekker?"

  "This is Bekker," Lucas confirmed. To Fell, he said, "Come on. Let's get him."

  CHAPTER

  28

  Lily called the patrol lieutenant at the Fifth Precinct and ordered backup squads to Lacey's building: "It's Bekker," she said. "Get them there now. "

  She dropped the phone back on its cradle and sat down, heavily, in O'Dell's visitor's chair, sorting it out.

  They were in the car...

  O'Dell peered at her across his expansive desk. "What was that all about?" he asked. "The call from Davenport? I believe I was mentioned." His voice was ugly, peremptory. Cold.

  Lily shook her head.

  "I want to know what he said, Lieutenant," O'Dell barked.

  "Shut up, I'm thinking," she said.

  O'Dell's eyes narrowed and he sat back. He'd been a politician for five decades, and he instinctively reacted to the warning tone in her voice. Balances had changed somewhere, and he didn't know exactly where. He tried a probe.

  "I won't be maneuvered, Lieutenant," he said, emphasizing the rank. "Perhaps a precinct-level job would be more your style after all."

  Lily had been peering at the wall above his head, her lips moving slightly. Now she dropped her eyes to his face: "You should have wiped out the ticket requisition for Red Reed before you sent him to South Carolina, John. I've got the ticket vouchers with your signature, I've got the reports on his alleged statements, I've even got the Columbia University transcripts showing that he took classes you lectured at. I also know you fixed at least one drug arrest for him. So don't give me any shit about precinct-level jobs, okay?"

  O'Dell nodded and settled in his chair. This could be handled. Everything can be handled by he who waits. He sat silently as she stared at the wall above his head. Finally, a tear trickled down her cheek and she said, "I need your help with the computer."

  "What about the Red Reed stuff?" O'Dell asked.

  "I'm not going to use it, for Christ's sakes. I mean, I can't conceive of any circumstances that I'd use it. It was just something... I found out."

  O'Dell grinned in spite of himself. This could be handled, all right. The question now was, who would do the handling? "Davenport," he said. "You told me not to underestimate him. But he looks like a fuckin' brawler with that scar on his face, and what he did to Bekker..."

  "Two Robin Hoods just showed up at Bekker's hideout. Lucas is going to take them."

  "What?" Now O'Dell was confused.

  "The computer?"

  "Tell me what's going on...."

  "I want you to run Copland against Kennett."

  O'Dell stared, his thick lips going in and out as he did the calculations, a nursing motion, wet and unpleasant. "Oh, no," he said. He turned, pulled himself across to the computer terminal, flicked a switch, waited until the computer booted up, entered a user name and password, and began the process.

  The matching run took ten minutes. A double column of dates and times marched down the screen.

  "All so many years ago," O'Dell said tonelessly, reading down the list. "They must've been like father and son. Copland broke him in on t
he beat. Copland was a tough old bird. He busted more than a few heads in his day."

  "Kennett planted him on you. How long ago?"

  O'Dell shrugged. "Five years now. He's been driving me for five years. He must have a microphone arrangement in the car, or a bug-or maybe he just pulled out some sound insulation, so he could hear us talk. Every damn thing we said." He looked at Lily. "How?"

  "Lucas looked at everything, figured that Robin Hood was either you or Kennett.... He trusted my judgment that it wasn't Kennett. At least, he said he trusted my judgment. And he likes Kennett."