“Follow me. My office is just up here on the left. My wife wants me to call it the study but I can’t do it. I married into money pretty late in life. The only time I was in anything called a study, it was detention in study hall with Sister Theresa Marie. Not a memory I want to relive every time I work at home.”
On the way behind his desk, James motioned to the sideboard. “I’d offer you a drink but I’m a Coke man, myself.”
The Commissioner laughed at Mann’s expression. “Don’t look so surprised. I was in the task force fridge and saw all those red, white and blue cans. Patriotic as I am, I was appalled at the sight. Blaak ratted you out. OK, so since you arrived, I have done all the talking. I think it is time you started doing some.”
Mann nodded. “Then I won’t waste anymore of your time and get right to it.”
An hour later, Mann left the Commissioner’s house with a promise to have Flem at the warehouse by three in the afternoon on the day after tomorrow. And he would be alone.
Chapter 84
“Inspector.”
Inspector WH Flem walked into the cavernous room. Without the desks and chairs, the warehouse seemed enormous. Flem walked slowly across the cement floor toward Mann standing in the half shadow. His hard shoes clicked harshly, sending echoes bouncing off the walls.
“What is this all about, Lieutenant? Who is that behind you?”
Mann turned around and Dani moved out from behind the television monitor. Flem stopped until he could see her fully. Her red hair flashed as she stepped into the full light. “Danett Wood, Inspector.”
“Ah, the famous Flashcam and bedmate.”
Mann did not respond and Flem continued forward. “You only answered one of my questions. Why am I here? The message from the Commissioner seemed urgent.”
“Simply put, Inspector, we want you to testify against your employer, Giovanni Angelino.”
Flem did not flinch or so much as pause. “And what would I be testifying about?”
“The years that you have been working for Angelino, misdirecting investigations, informing of pending searches and arrests, helping hit men get rid of witnesses. That sort of stuff.”
Flem walked toward Mann, his eyes still flat, almost bored.
“You don’t deny my accusation.”
“Why bother? It is ludicrous. I am only staying because I want to see you hang yourself. You seem determined to end whatever bit of career you have left.”
“It isn’t my career that is over.”
Flem’s eyebrows went up, wrinkling his forehead high into what was once his hairline. He had arrived beside Mann. Dani had moved off to the side.
Mann bent down and pressed the button on the DVD player. The television whined for a minute and then the picture solidified into a full face shot of Flem in his uniform. Dani’s voice could be heard off camera.
“Tonight, we bring you an exclusive interview with Inspector William Harrison Flem who has a shocking announcement. The Inspector is a veteran of the Kesle police force, winner of the medal for conspicuous bravery, appointed head of the Mayor’s Special Organized Crime Unit, well respected both within the force and in the civilian population. How could this officer become linked with the Mafia? How could this decorated veteran become an informant on his own brother officers? Inspector, how did it all begin?”
“At first, it was innocent,” Flem answered. “It was something that everyone did more or less. Turn a blind eye to this crime or that, just to help out a friend. Take a free cup of coffee, a bottle of Scotch.”
“But, you did more, did you not, Inspector?” asked Dani, as the camera shot flashed to her. “Did you not interfere with other officers and ongoing investigations?”
“Yes. Over the course of several years, several undercover investigations were jeopardized. However, no officers lost their lives as a result.”
The camera continued to go back and forth from Dani to Flem. Even Mann, knowing what to look for, barely saw the subtle changes from one shot of Flem to another. Dani’s video tech was a genius especially considering how quickly he put it together.
“But,” Dani said severely, “several almost died. In fact, only recently, a contract was taken out on an undercover detective you fingered. He was injured and there have been six deaths as a result of the contract on his life.”
“That was regretful. However, the deaths were men who were anything but innocent. Nobody likes to see anyone get hurt. However, that is the nature of the job.”
“But, betrayal by your own commanding officer is not part of the job. Why have you decided to come forward?”
“The opportunity to turn State’s evidence has been offered.”
“So, you were the object of an investigation? In fact, you were caught.”
Flem did not respond and the picture returned to Dani. “And after this taping, you will be going into hiding?”
“Arrangements are being made.”
“And can we assume that the indictments brought down by your information will involve high ranking members of organized crime?”
“I can tell you this. Before I’m finished, I will have put Giovanni Angelino behind bars.”
“Thank you, Inspector. Or should I say ex Inspector Flem? We will have further updates as more information becomes available. And now, back to you Mark.”
Flem lightly applauded, his hands coming together in slow, measured applause. “Excellent work.”
“It airs at six.”
“The video is good but anyone can tell it was doctored. And the audio? Christ, I could identify each one of my appearances. Nobody will believe it. You show that tape and I’ll sue you and your station so dry, you’ll be farting dust.”
“Very picturesque,” Dani replied. “The tape still airs.”
“Nobody will believe it. It won’t stand up under analysis.”
“It won’t have to,” Mann said. ‘You won’t live to see a courtroom.”
Flem stared at Mann, a puzzled look crossing his face.
Degget stepped out from the shadows and laughed.
“You don’t get it, do you, you sorry sack of shit.” Degget said. “We don’t have to convince a court. We only have to convince Angelino of the possibility. Do you think he will take time to analyze the tape before he wastes your fat ass?”
Flem swallowed hard, realization sinking in. Then, his confidence returned. He squared his shoulders. “I can end this with a single phone call.”
“If you could make the phone call,” Degget said.
Flem turned and stared at the gun in Degget’s hand. Seeing the hatred in Degget’s eyes, even Mann took an involuntary step forward. Degget’s hand was rock steady as he pointed the automatic at the shorter man’s head. Flem made a gurgling sound that Mann thought was some sort of a plea.
“Angelino will be especially anxious to talk to you when he discovers you have disappeared for several days. When his snitches do find you, and they will find you, do you think he’ll ask you if it’s true? Then again, you could just disappear permanently and we won’t have to worry about any of this. Really depends on how cooperative you are.”
For a moment longer, the tension hung in the air and then Degget raised the barrel of the gun until it was pointing at the ceiling. He carefully released the hammer and put the gun in his shoulder holster.
“Nah. It’s going to be more fun watching you try to dodge Angelino. How long do you think you’ll last?”
Flem’s knees buckled and he sank to the ground. None of the three bothered to try and catch him.
*
Dani was setting up her camera on the tripod while Flem sat in a chair – a blank look on his face. Behind him, Mann, Degget, Davis and Commissioner James were talking quietly.
“I wasn’t sure if you were going to pull the trigger,” James said.
“You know,” Degget said, with a smile, “neither was I.”
James laughed. “The Mayor is going to stroke out when he sees this.”
�
��What’s he going to do to you?”
“What can he do? He’ll be so busy trying to distance himself from Flem, he won’t have time for me.”
“I think I should have a lawyer.”
The three looked at Flem in his chair. They looked back at each other and laughed. James walked up behind Flem and leaned down close to his ear. His voice dripped with the disdain he felt for Flem.
“You are not getting a lawyer. You are going to sit and answer the nice lady’s questions so we have a proper tape to air tonight. You will turn over on Angelino and give us everything you’ve got. You understand?”
“I’ll get you for this,” Flem said.
“Do you really think we are the ones you should be threatening?” James asked, slapping Flem lightly on his cheek. “We are your new best friends. None of your old buddies will come within a mile of you once we’re done. We are your only protection. You understand that, right? Your life is in our hands.”
James stepped back and straightened.
“In fact, as Commissioner of the Kesle Police Department,” James said, stressing his position, “I am officially assigning Sergeant Davis and Detective Degget to your protection detail. His life is in your hands, Detective.”
Flem whirled in the chair and jumped to his feet. Hatred burned in his eyes. James looked down at the overweight, balding man. Scorn met hatred until Flem finally backed down, beaten.
“Right then, gentlemen,” Dani said. “Let’s get this thing done.”
Mann stepped back and watched Dani fine focus the camera but what he saw in his mind was Angelino finally heading behind bars. Dani stepped forward with the mike and had Degget move the chair out of the way. Smiling with satisfaction, Mann leaned against the wall and listened to Dani start her interview.
Excerpt from
The Schliemann Legacy
By D.A. Graystone
PROLOGUE
THE CITY OF PRIAM WAS FAMOUS THE WORLD OVER
FOR ITS WEALTH OF GOLD AND BRONZE.
THE ILIAD - BOOK XVII
PROLOGUE
NEW ILIUM, TURKEY
JUNE 1, 1873
The small shovel dug into the dusty earth and rang with a dull metallic clang. The sound reverberated up the handle. Heinrich Schliemann barely stifled the cry welling in his throat. He threw the shovel aside and clawed at the dirt. Slowly, the object emerged; a harsh bright scar marked the shovel's impact. His hand caressed the exposed edge and the rough tarnish flaked off in his gritty fingers.
He squeezed farther into the small hole with the torch held in front of him and squinted at the object concealed in the semi darkness. Schliemann recognized the green cast of tarnished copper. He pulled the artifact aside and could see the unmistakable gleam of rich, brilliant, beautiful gold. "I've found it," screamed aloud.
He immediately clamped a dusty hand over his own mouth. He risked a quick glance out of the mouth of the small tunnel. Blinking against the strong sun, he surveyed the camp. The scorching, mid-day heat had driven the lazy native Turks to the stifling shade of their tents. Relieved that no one had heard his cry, he turned back to the treasure gleaming in the flickering light.
Years of research and months of searching in this god-forsaken country had finally reaped a reward. Scoffed at, called a dreamer, fraud and worse, he had succeeded where others had no belief. His dream was realized, his work validated, his genius proven. Exaggerated tale to some, myth to most - truth only to Heinrich Schliemann.
King Priam's city, which had remained unconquered until it fell to the invading Greeks seeking the return of Helen, was a reality. "I have found Troy," he whispered.
Schliemann eased the first piece free - a large copper shield. He brushed it free of the clinging dirt and traced his finger along the smooth edge. He remembered the writings of Homer from the Iliad.
On came the Trojans toward the wall with shields
uplifted, with a long drawn battle cry.
The sound of clashing metal rang in his ears as he envisioned the two armies engaged on the battlefield. The warrior who had once held this shield had died almost thirty centuries before. Still, Schliemann could see the mighty man standing before him. The archaeologist had only to reach out and meet the great man's hand to be transported back to those glorious times.
Schliemann could see it all. The palace, in its prime, surrounded by opulence and grace. Fragrant wine served in golden goblets. Priam holding court, hearing of the approaching invasion of the Greeks. The old king, laughing as he walked along the battlements of his fortified city, confident of its defenses, still ignorant of the Greek treachery to come.
Yes, Schliemann thought, clasping the shield to his chest, this was Troy. And, it was his!
PART ONE
DISCOVERY
AMONG THE GODS, WHO BROUGHT THIS QUARREL ON?
THE ILIAD - BOOK I
Chapter 1
MARDINAUD
JUNE 1981
The man crouched beneath the large low leaves, panting, desperate to fill his aching lungs. He wiped the rain from his face and turned to listen. He barely heard the dogs over the drumming of the rain on the leaves. He prayed it wasn't his imagination and the dogs were moving away from him? Had his ruse worked? He smiled in grim satisfaction. He had wasted time and energy moving in the wrong direction, leading them away and then doubling back, wading along the river to fool the dogs. He shuddered, thinking of the inky black, chest high water.
Distracted by the thought of leeches, he stood and took a step. With a scream, he fell face first onto the muddy ground and passed out.
Minutes later, he came too, the gritty taste of mud in his mouth. Grabbing a tree beside him, he pulled himself to his knees. Disorientated, he fought the nausea and focused on where he was. The violent throbbing in his twisted ankle made it all clear. Shaking his head and spitting out the dirt in his mouth, he checked his watch to see how long he had been out. But more than the glowing hands on his watch, the urgent barking of the dogs gave him his answer.
Not only were they now on his trail again, they were closer, much closer.
Taking more care, he pulled himself upright and hobbled through the jungle, his heart beating faster every time the dogs barked.
*
The door of the shack banged open and the man fell through the threshold. Grabbing his leg and cursing, he sprawled across the hard floor. His labored breathing sent clouds of dust floating across the floor. It reminded him how long he'd been in Kadner's compound - long enough to deserve a bigger bonus, he told himself. God save him, he had completed his assignment. He was going home. Home was the only thing that mattered. He had one more task and then he could put this jungle and its memories behind him.
Lightning exploded over the trees outside and lit the room through the open door. Almost glowing in the stark light, a white sheet covered several square objects on a table in the center of the room. A thick electrical cord ran from under the sheet and out through the back wall. The man crawled forward and yanked at the sheet. He wrapped it around his wet, shivering body and examined the sophisticated short-wave radio. He flipped switches and waited.
One last transmission. Once he had completed this final transmission, he would start running again. The rain would cover his tracks and fool the dogs.
He thought of his beautiful wife. She would be at home waiting for him. They would use the money to go away. He wouldn't need to work again for at least a year. They would spend the whole year together. This jungle and the dogs would be like a bad dream.
Suddenly, his vision cleared and he realized he was still staring at the radio set. The dead radio. Mentally chastising himself for daydreaming, he flipped a switch on the leg of the table. A generator behind the shack roared and the lights on the radio dials began to glow. The man's fingers trembled as he fine tuned the dials of the radio.
Suddenly, he heard the renewed barking of the excited dogs.
He knew he had little time to escape. If he left now, he might lose t
he dogs again in the rain. But leaving would delay the message for days and his employer had been specific about the timetable. There would be no bonus if he didn't send the message right away. No bonus. No extended vacation.
He pressed the transmit button.
"Iber calling, please respond. Repeat. Iber calling, please respond. Over."
"Iber, this is Mindpiece. Go ahead. Over."
"Mindpiece, this is Iber. The occupant and possessions are at the location. Be advised . . ."
The man stopped talking and took his finger off the button. He turned and saw them through the open door.
The large man came through in a crouch. His partner stood behind him and fired a controlled burst from his MAC 10.
As the man swung his handgun toward the intruders, the dogs hit him full in the chest, knocking him to the floor. The gun bounced out of his hand and landed three feet away, within sight but out of reach.
Barely held at bay, the two Pit Bulls strained for the man's throat. Their powerful jaws snapped shut, dripping slobber on his exposed neck. The man ignored the gun and desperately fought the dogs. Thrashing his arms, he screamed at the beasts and pleaded with the men who leaned on either side of the door.
The battle was over swiftly. Once released, the dogs chewed through the man's throat and he stopped screaming. His thrashing ceased seconds later.
A ridiculously small and cheap piece of plastic placed behind the triggers turned the MAC 10s into full automatics. At a rate of 1200 rounds per minute, the bullets ripped the radio equipment to shreds. The men fired until the clips were empty and then whistled to the dogs. The Pit Bulls stopped their bloody feeding, padded across the dusty floor, and waited obediently just outside the shack. With a last look around the room, the large man slammed the door and led the way back into the jungle.
Two Graves (A Kesle City Homicide Novel) Page 29
