by Rob Sinclair
He wanted to ask about Carlucci, what she knew and how. But it wasn’t something he wanted to do over the phone. He hated phone calls because there was no way to control a conversation. Not like when you were face to face with someone, looking them in the eyes.
‘Yeah, sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s just been so hectic here.’
‘So you’re making progress then? What have you found?’
It seemed strange having this conversation with her now. Four days ago, when they’d been the dynamic duo, it had been them against the world. But now, she was suspended and was well and truly out of this investigation. She had also been keeping something from him. So as wrong as it felt to now want to keep his cards close to his chest, he wasn’t really sure what would be gained from telling her the discovery about Carlucci and Kennedy.
Perhaps there was some of the old Logan left after all.
‘No, we haven’t found much yet,’ he said, not happy about lying to her, but knowing that it was the best option. ‘We’re just following up on some leads. Not much more to tell than that.’
‘Oh. So the link to Rosenberg didn’t help in the end then?’
Had he told her about Rosenberg? He couldn’t remember.
‘No,’ said Logan. ‘Rosenberg didn’t have anything.’
‘Oh.’
She sounded disappointed. Was it disappointment that he hadn’t found anything, or that he wasn’t telling her anything?
He was torn. On the one hand Grainger had kept information from him, so this was only quid pro quo. But then, he supposed, she had as much riding on this investigation as he did. She’d gone through a lot on this case too. In a way, with all the help she’d given him, she had a right to know what was going on. But it was too late to take back the lie now. One thing he’d learnt a long time ago was that lies could take you forward, but they could never take you back. He’d always hated that saying. You usually only ever thought about it when you knew you were about to come unstuck.
‘And what are the other leads?’ she said.
‘Nothing substantial. Might not be anything,’ he said, cringing as he spoke. ‘Where are you anyway? It must be pretty late there.’
‘Oh, yeah, er, it is pretty late. I’m just in the hotel but couldn’t sleep. Seems kinda funny not to have you here.’
‘Yeah. It is. Look, I should go.’
‘Okay.’
‘It was really good to hear from you. I mean that. You just made my day a whole lot better.’
‘Yeah. You too, Carl. I hope you find what you’re looking for.’
So did he.
As soon as they’d hung up, Logan began to dial in to Mackie. He was greeted by the blaring horn of a large lorry in the adjacent lane as he clumsily drove one-handed, trying to start the call.
When Mackie answered, Logan began to explain what had happened at Rosenberg’s office.
‘I found a name and address and a whole list of what I think are bank account numbers,’ he said.
‘What’s the name?’
‘Greg Dennis. Doesn’t ring any bells to me. And there was nothing else in the file I took with that name on it. But I’m heading to the address now.’
‘Okay. What are the numbers? Read them out to me.’
Logan turned on the overhead light and, without stopping the car or even braking, did his best to read out the numbers to Mackie while keeping straight on the road.
‘Okay. We’ll check out Dennis and these numbers.’
‘The address is in Binghamton town,’ Logan said. ‘It’s in Broome County, New York.’
‘Right. That’ll be enough for us to narrow down our searches on him. We have something for you as well.’
‘What is it?’
‘We have Kennedy’s new identity. He lives in some hick town in Ohio now. His name is William Button.’
‘How did you find it?’
‘Remote access. The same way Blakemore and Selim got it. Modena must have given them a username and password for the system, but these guys then went to town hacking through restricted databases until they found what they were looking for. So it seems Modena mustn’t have known exactly where to find the answer himself. It took quite a bit of effort on the part of Selim and Blakemore to find it. They did a really good job of hiding their tracks too. Must have had some proper techno whizz kid in their ranks. The Americans had no idea the data had been hacked. I don’t think they would ever have known about it if we hadn’t gone looking for it.’
‘They know?’ Logan said, not liking where this was going.
‘It was the quickest way for us to do it.’ Mackie said, almost apologetically. ‘We’ve had help from the DOJ and the US Marshals Service. It’s their witness, after all.’
‘So everything we know is all out in the open now?’ Logan said, angered at the thought that Mackie had turned over their leads before he’d had a chance to finish things off. But also embarrassed because it meant that it would have been plain to Grainger that Logan was lying to her on the call they’d just had – assuming she was still being kept in the loop by the FBI.
‘Kennedy’s their problem,’ Mackie said. ‘This thing is almost over now. It’s not really our territory anymore. This could just as well be handled by the police or Feds or whoever. I’m going to give you a few hours on Dennis, but after that we’re closing it down. The Feds are already taking over on locating and protecting Kennedy, so there’ll be a team arriving at his door any minute to take him somewhere safe.’
Logan felt his stomach clenching, the feeling of failure rising. Mackie never gave jobs away like this.
‘So it’s over?’
Mackie sighed. ‘You’ve done your job, Logan. It’s time to close it down now. But I won’t tell the Feds anything on Dennis until you’ve checked him out.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I want to know if he’s the right man before we hand that information over. If he’s not, and this investigation takes another turn, then I want us to still be ahead of the curve. If it’s Dennis that’s the last missing link here, the Feds can have him.’
‘But you don’t think it is?’
‘Well, until you told me about the guy just now, it wasn’t a name on anyone’s radar, as far as I know.’
‘So who’s on the radar then?’ Logan quizzed. He had the feeling that Mackie wasn’t telling him the whole story.
‘There isn’t anyone else yet,’ Mackie responded.
Logan wasn’t convinced.
‘You’ve got four hours, Logan,’ Mackie said, and then he hung up.
Logan put the phone down and sighed. It was now all or nothing. He had a hunch that Mackie wasn’t being entirely straight with him. And neither was Grainger.
But he was the one who was moving the investigation forward now. And he was the one who would finish it.
Even though there was no reason to suspect there was any heat on him, Logan resisted the temptation to speed as he travelled down the freeway. There was no need to draw unwanted attention to himself. The town where he was headed, Binghamton, close to the city of the same name, was a picturesque place with less than five thousand inhabitants. Most of the townsfolk were relatively wealthy – either retirees or businessmen and -women who commuted into nearby cities.
It was a long drive, and Logan was travel-weary and hungry by the time he arrived. His arm was aching more and more as the minutes went past. He’d lost his medication somewhere between landing at JFK and all the excitement in Manhattan. His head hurt and his body was weak. He knew that he should rest.
But he was so close that he wasn’t going to stop. He couldn’t stop now.
The road he’d been taken to by his GPS was near to the town’s high street and consisted of a row of well-presented terraces. Many of them housed fashionable-looking art and antiques shops on the ground floors. The road seemed to lose its attractiveness, though, the further away from the high street you went. By the time Logan arrived at the address he was looking for, the well-presente
d terraces were in a more rustic state. Not decrepit, but certainly not as well kept.
The address he was looking for, 257b, was above a grimy-looking hardware store. From the front, it didn’t appear that anybody was home. There were no lights on in the apartment.
Cautious as ever, Logan continued driving around the block, to look for a back entrance. But there wasn’t one. The back yards of the buildings on this street backed directly onto the yards of the buildings on the parallel street. That provided at least some extra comfort in that there was one less escape route if the apartment’s occupants tried to flee from him.
He completed his circuit of the block and parked up on the opposite side of the street to the hardware store, which had long been closed up for the night and was completely dark inside. The street was quiet, with little traffic about and few pedestrians. It wasn’t late into the night, just approaching ten p.m., but what small town has a thriving nightlife? And for Logan, it was better this way – fewer potential witnesses, and less potential collateral damage.
As he opened his door to get out, Logan’s phone went. Lifting it out of his pocket, he saw that it was Mackie calling.
‘Logan, where are you?’
He sounded rushed, like he had something urgent that he needed to say.
‘I’ve just arrived at Dennis’s address.’
‘Shit. Logan, things aren’t quite how we thought.’
Logan was momentarily distracted by movement off to his right. The apartment door opened and a figure came into view. But it was too dark to make the person out.
As Mackie carried on, Logan was only half listening.
‘Kennedy is gone. No-one has seen him since this morning.’
Logan’s ears perked up a bit. ‘He’s gone? As in, snatched?’
‘Well, more than likely, yeah.’
Logan was still staring over towards the apartment door. The figure began walking towards him, or towards his side of the street at least.
‘Logan, are you even listening to me?’
Logan didn’t respond; he was too busy focusing on the figure.
Was it Dennis?
‘Yeah, I’m listening. Go for it. Something about Kennedy?’
But he wasn’t really listening at all. He was readying himself for action – his free hand creeping towards his Glock handgun.
This could be it.
‘Logan, Dennis is –’
But Logan didn’t hear the end of the sentence. He’d hung up the phone already when the figure, walking over to a car that was parked a few yards up from him, came into view, caught in the glare of a street light.
He could hardly believe his eyes.
It was Grainger.
Chapter 60
Logan stepped out of his car, almost unable to believe what he was seeing.
‘Angela …’
She hadn’t spotted him and she jumped at his voice, looking as shocked as he was.
Logan’s phone rang again. He took it out of his pocket and, without looking at the caller display, turned it off.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, incredulity in her voice.
He walked up to her. Neither of them was smiling.
‘No, what are you doing here?’ Logan said. ‘You said you were in Paris still.’
‘Er, actually I said I was in my hotel room.’
‘You said it was late at night! Either way, you had me believe you were in Paris. Why would you do that?’
‘I’m sorry, Carl. I really wanted to tell you. But you weren’t exactly being straight with me, were you?’
‘What the hell do you mean by that?’
‘You knew far more than you let on,’ she said, looking hurt. ‘Otherwise why would you be here?’
‘No, Angela. The question is why are you here? We both know I’m on this case still. You should be suspended.’
‘Do we have to do this in the street? You’re making a scene.’
‘Fine, let’s get into my car,’ Logan said, looking around him. He couldn’t see anyone milling about, but still she had a point.
He stomped back to his car and got in. Grainger followed timidly and got into the front passenger seat.
‘So?’ he said, not wanting to replay the same question another time.
‘I’m back on the case. Given that the investigation was ongoing, they fast-tracked my review. I think they realised we’d actually got much further because of how we did things. I still got a pretty severe reprimand, but the main thing is, I’m back.’
It sounded believable enough, so why did he not buy it?
‘Why didn’t you just tell me? Why lie?’
‘Because you were the reason they reprimanded me in the first place! I’ve been warned about my future conduct. I can’t mess up again. There really wouldn’t be any way back if I did.’
Without any sympathy in his voice, Logan said, ‘That still doesn’t explain why you’re here. How did you find this place?’
‘Because this house is the registered address for some of the bank accounts to which money related to the Modena kidnapping was transferred.’
He nodded at her response. The FBI had certainly been doing their homework. Or had Mackie let on more to them than he had led Logan to believe? Mackie had already told Logan that the Americans were in the loop now. But he had assured him that he would give Logan four hours on Dennis. Had he lied? Or just changed his mind? Maybe that was what Mackie had just been calling about.
‘You already knew about Carlucci, didn’t you?’ Logan said. ‘I could tell Modena’s words meant something to you.’
Grainger was looking down, avoiding his gaze. She didn’t say anything.
‘Why are you keeping things from me?’ he said.
She began to cry. ‘I’m sorry, Carl,’ she said. ‘Don’t hate me. I just … I just didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t tell you.’
‘You knew about Carlucci. What else do you know?’
She sobbed but didn’t offer up anything else.
Despite his instincts screaming at him, Logan started to feel bad for her. Whatever was going on, he couldn’t hide his feelings for her.
‘We’ve connected this house to a Greg Dennis,’ Logan said, trying to move back onto an even keel. ‘Any ideas on who he is?’
‘He owns the place, apparently,’ Grainger said, looking up at him. Her eyes were red and puffy but she stopped crying. ‘I got here half an hour ago, but there was no-one home. I broke in, but the place is empty. There’s nothing in there. Doesn’t look like there has been for a while.’
‘Perhaps there never was. It may have been a dead-end lead in the first place.’
‘Possibly. So how did you wind up here?’
‘I’m guessing the same way you did. The paper trail.’
‘Yeah.’ She turned her body to face him, a look of hurt in her eyes. ‘Why did you lie to me earlier?’
‘I don’t know,’ Logan said, gazing down, unable to look her in the eye.
‘It’s good to see you,’ she said. ‘I really mean that.’
He stared back up at her and she gave him a smile, which sent a tingle all the way through him. But the smile was gone again in a flash. The lingering awkwardness between them was obvious. The level of trust can never be quite the same once you’ve been lied to. And both of them had lied. Unfortunately the two negatives didn’t cancel each other out. If anything, they made the situation that little bit worse.
‘So what do you know about this Greg Dennis?’ asked Logan. ‘Does he even exist?’
‘Yeah, he does. Not much known about him, though. Pretty much a clean record.’
‘A clean record?’ Logan said. ‘That doesn’t really make sense, does it? You’d expect whoever was behind this to be someone kind of obvious. Someone with a beef against Modena or Kennedy. Or both.’
‘That’s what you think? It’s about a beef with one of those two?’
‘What else could it be?’
‘No, I don’t know. Nothing
.’
‘You do know something, don’t you?’
‘Yeah, what I just told you.’
‘No, Angela,’ he snapped, raising his voice. ‘What is it that you’re not telling me?’
‘There’s nothing, Carl!’ she protested. ‘Why are you speaking to me like this? It’s really not how I imagined seeing you again would be.’
Even though a large part of him didn’t trust what she was saying, for the first time in the conversation Logan felt like a bit of an idiot. She was right. After all the things he’d said to her yesterday, back in Paris, he should have been delighted to see her. He should have been swinging her around in his arms.
But he knew why that wasn’t the case. Her story just didn’t add up. As much as he wanted it to, it just didn’t.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, trying hard to sound sincere, though he wasn’t feeling it one hundred per cent. ‘And you’re right. It is good to see you. It’s just unexpected. My mind is so focused on getting Dennis or whoever the hell else it might be that’s still out there.’
‘Mine too,’ she said, still looking a little hurt. Then she smiled and said, ‘But don’t you at least want to say hello to me properly?’
She leaned over to him and closed her eyes. Feeling somewhat awkward with the proposition, Logan leaned in nonetheless, closed his eyes too and felt the electricity as their lips touched. It was a gentle kiss at first but they soon began to move into it more. Grainger parted her lips and Logan followed. They kissed more passionately, their hands dancing over each other’s faces and bodies. Grainger let out a murmur.
Logan was finally relaxing into the kiss when he felt something cold touch his wrist. He jumped a little out of shock, his brain not processing what was happening. Only when he heard the metallic clicking sound did he get it.
Grainger stopped kissing him and moved back.
‘What the …’ He looked down at his hands. ‘What the fuck!’
She’d handcuffed him to the steering wheel.
Chapter 61
‘I’m so sorry, Carl. I really am. I never thought you’d get here so quickly. I just hope you can forgive me.’
‘Angela, don’t do this!’
