“Anything with that?”
“Toast.”
I was on my third cup of coffee, leaning out into the aisle to see the front door, when Kate came in. She spotted me, walked quickly to the booth, and slid in opposite me. She asked me, “Why are you here?”
“Obviously, we need to talk. Alone.”
“Well, Jack is looking for you.”
“That’s why I’m here. What did you two talk about?”
She replied, “He asked me if I was looking into the TWA case. I said I was. He thanked me for being so forthright, then he asked me if you were looking into the case, too.” She hesitated, then continued, “I said you were. Then, he wanted some details, so I told him what he probably already knew about everything that had happened from the night of the memorial service to now.” She paused, then added, “That’s what you suggested. Right?”
“Right. How did he handle the truth?”
“Not too well.”
The waitress came, and Kate ordered a chamomile tea, whatever that is.
I asked her, “Did you tell him where I went yesterday?”
“I told him you went out east and that’s all I knew. I explained, quite frankly, that you weren’t sharing much with me, so that I wouldn’t be in a position to have to lie. He appreciated that strategy on a professional level, but he was very pissed off.”
“The mere mention of my name pisses him off.”
Kate’s tea came at the same time the crockery crashed, and she was startled. I could tell she was a little jumpy after an hour with Koenig. I said, “That was a recording. Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m fine.” She sipped her tea, then leaned across the table and said to me, “I told him in no uncertain terms that I asked you to look into this case and that you were reluctant to do so, but out of loyalty to me, you agreed to check out a few things. I told him I take full responsibility for any breach of rules, regulations, standing orders, and so forth.”
“Was his face red? I like it when his face gets red. You ever see him snap a pencil between his fingers?”
“This is not a joke. But, yes, he was in a state of controlled freak-out.”
“Well, that tells you something right there—doesn’t it? Somebody—the government, the FBI, the CIA—has something to hide.”
“Not necessarily. He was pissed because this was the second time I was told that this case was none of my business. They don’t like to have to tell you twice about something, even if it’s something minor. There is no room for renegades and hotshots on the team. Jack’s annoyance had nothing to do with this case, per se, but with the larger issues of giving aid and comfort to conspiracy theorists and muckraking news media.”
“Why didn’t we think of that?”
“Because it’s bullshit.”
“I hope you told him that.”
“I did not. I told him I understood completely.”
I wasn’t exactly certain where Ms. Mayfield now stood on this subject, so I asked, “What’s the bottom line?”
“He gave me a direct order not to involve myself in this matter, and if I gave him my word on that, then nothing negative would be entered in my service record.”
“So, there you go. No big deal. Where do you want to meet for lunch?”
She ignored the question and asked me, “What did Captain Stein say to you?”
“Oh, right. Stein. Koenig didn’t tell him much except that one of Stein’s problem cops—me—needed to get smacked into line about something. I actually had to tell Stein what I thought this was about so he could chew me out about it. It was a little bizarre.”
“That’s it?”
“Sort of.” I decided not to mention the Yemen thing now, if ever.
She asked me, “Then why does Jack want to see you?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
“No . . . probably he wants to reprimand you in person.”
“Not a chance. He loves me.”
“He actually doesn’t. But he respects you.”
“And I respect him.”
“But . . . he thinks you’re not a team player. He said that. He’s afraid you might bring discredit to the task force.”
“Yeah? Fuck him. Basically, he doesn’t like all these cops in his office. They make him nervous.”
She didn’t comment.
I informed Kate, “I don’t have to see Jack Koenig. I’ve resigned.”
She looked up at me. “What?”
“Stein gave me a choice of keeping my nose out of TWA 800 or resigning. I chose to resign.”
“Why? Just drop this thing, John. It’s not worth our careers.”
“Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. I resigned out of principle. In other words, I’m tired of this job.” Also, I didn’t want any job where someone could send me to Yemen and fuck with my life. But I didn’t tell that to Kate.
She said, “We’ll talk about that later . . .” She stayed quiet for a while, then said, “Jack gave me a few choices, too.”
I knew we weren’t getting off that easy.
She said, “First choice was a permanent transfer to someplace in the continental U.S., to be discussed. Second choice was a temporary assignment to assist the FBI legal attaché in the investigation of the U.S. embassy bombing in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania.”
I let that sink in awhile, avoiding Kate’s eyes. Finally, I said, “You understand, of course, that this is a punishment and not a reward for good initiative.”
She replied, “That’s not the way it was presented.”
“What are you going to do?”
“What would you like me to do?”
“Well . . . you don’t like New York, so take the transfer to Dubuque or someplace.”
“Actually, I do like New York.”
“Since when?”
“Since I was given the opportunity to leave. Look, John, if I take the temporary assignment to Tanzania, I’ll be guaranteed at least two more years in New York. On the other hand, the transfer in the continental U.S. is permanent. You’d have to apply for a transfer to wherever I wind up, and it could be years before we’re in the same city. If ever.”
“I told you—I’m going to resign.”
“No, you’re not. And even if you do, would you leave New York and come with me to Dallas, or Cleveland, or Wichita?”
“I’d follow you anywhere. I’ve never been west of Eleventh Avenue. It could be fun.”
She looked at me to see if I was being serious, which I was not. I said, “I’ll get a security job in a department store. Or, here’s another choice—tell Koenig to go fuck himself.”
“That is not a good career choice. Look, I could file a grievance, or plead hardship, but the easier thing to do would be to take the temporary overseas assignment. It won’t be more than three months. Then, I come back, the slate is clean, and we go on with our lives and our jobs here.” She added, “I made Jack Koenig promise that you’d get a two-year contract renewal here in New York.”
“Please don’t negotiate my contract for me. I have a lawyer for that.”
“I’m your lawyer.”
“Then I’ll tell you what to do. Not vice versa.”
She took my hand and said, “John, let me take the overseas assignment. Please. That’s the only way this is going to work for us.”
I squeezed her hand and said, “What am I supposed to do all alone in New York?”
She forced a smile and said, “Do whatever you want. But keep in mind I’ll have ten agents watching you twenty-four/seven.”
I returned the smile, and thought about these interesting developments. Basically, Kate Mayfield and John Corey—two mere mortals—had offended the gods, who had now decided that we should be banished from the Acropolis restaurant to the nether regions of Africa and the Middle East. Or, we could lie down in front of a steamroller. I said to Kate, “Why don’t you resign?”
“I’m not resigning. And neither are you.”
“Well, then, I’ll volunteer to g
o to Tanzania with you.”
“Forget it. I already asked. That’s not happening.” She looked at me and said, “John. Please. Let me go and please don’t resign. At least wait until I get back.”
I made a snap and stupid decision and said, “I wouldn’t feel very good about you being in Africa while I was living here in the lap of luxury. So, I’m going to volunteer to go to Aden. That’s in Yemen.”
She looked at me a long time, then said, “That’s very sweet . . . very . . .” She was getting upset, and she let go of my hand and dabbed at her eyes with a paper napkin. She said, “I can’t let you do that. There’s no reason for you to . . . I mean, this was all my fault.”
“This is true. But, I knew what I was getting into. I just didn’t think they’d shut us down so soon. They should be so thorough with terrorists.”
She didn’t reply.
“So, we’ll take separate assignments, come home fit and tan, and pick up where we left off.”
She nodded slowly, then asked me, “How do you know they’ll accept your offer to go to Yemen?”
“They need to staff up there, and they’re having trouble finding people to volunteer.”
“How do you know this?”
“Stein mentioned it to me.”
“He . . . why . . . ? Did he ask you to go . . . ?”
“He suggested it. Which is a hell of a coincidence.”
“You jerk.” She actually kicked my shin under the table and said, “Why didn’t you tell me that—?”
“Hold on. Stein’s offer to send me to Yemen is irrelevant. I turned him down and told him I was resigning. But, now, since you’re intent on holding on to your job, I’ll go to Yemen and you go to Tanzania.”
Seemed logical to me, but I could tell she was still fuming. I reached for her hand, but she pulled it away and crossed her arms over her chest. That’s usually not a good sign.
The crockery crashed again, and an older couple who had just sat down in the booth across from us jumped. I hoped the Acropolis had a defibrillator.
Kate stewed awhile, then calmed down and said coolly, “All right, then. It’s settled. We take temporary assignments—which may actually do us some good—and we put this problem behind us.”
“Think of this as a positive career move for both of us,” I said. “And you’re right—two or three months separation might do us some good.”
“I didn’t mean that.”
“Neither did I.”
We held hands across the table, and she reminded me, “You have to see Jack.”
“Looking forward to it.”
“I have until Tuesday to get my affairs in order. How long will you need?”
“To get my affairs in order I’d need about ten years. But I’ll shoot for Tuesday.”
“I need to get a series of inoculations. And I have to call the travel office today.”
“Me, too.”
She said, “When I was single, I didn’t care where I was assigned or where I had temporary duty.”
“Me, neither.”
“You were a New York City cop.”
“Right. But I had to do two weeks in the Bronx once.”
“John, be serious.”
“Okay. I’m seriously pissed off. They’re using each of us to get rid of the other and to shut us up. This was a warning. The next time we won’t get off so easily.”
“There’s not going to be a next time. This case is closed. Closed.”
“I agree.”
“Say it again.”
If I said it again, I’d have to mean it. The thing that really pissed me off was that the marriage knot was being used by Jack Koenig to tie my hands. This was a new experience for me. I said, “I’m not a good loser.”
“Cut the macho shit. The case is closed. I opened it. I’m shutting it.”
“Okay. I’ll never mention it again.”
She changed the subject and asked me, “Do you think there’s anything new on the Cole case?”
“Not that I know of. I’ll be briefed over there.”
“They have some new leads on the embassy bombings in Tanzania and Kenya. There’s no doubt that this organization, Al Qaeda, was behind the bombings and we’ve captured two prime suspects who are talking. Al Qaeda, as you know, was also involved with the Cole attack.”
“Right.” I called the waitress over, ordered a toasted corn muffin with butter to go, and asked for the check.
Kate said, “These assignments may be punishment, but maybe we can do some good over there.”
“Right. We’ll wrap it up and get home early. You want more tea?”
“No. Are you listening to me?”
“I am.”
“You need to be careful over there. It’s a hostile country.”
“I’ll feel right at home. You be careful, too.”
“Tanzania is a friendly country. They’ve lost hundreds of their citizens in this embassy attack.”
“Right. Okay, you leave first. I’ll be along in ten minutes.”
She slid out of the booth, stood, kissed me, and said, “Don’t get into a pissing match with Jack.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
She left, I finished my coffee, got the corn muffin, paid the bill, and got some loose change.
I was beyond pissed off—I was calm, cool, collected, and looking for revenge.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Out on Broadway, I went to a pay phone and called Dom Fanelli’s cell phone.
He answered, and I asked, “Can you talk?”
“I gotta get to a double homicide on West 35th, but for you, I’ve got time. What’s up?”
I never know when this guy is jerking me around, and he’d have the same complaint about me. I said, “I need you to find three people.”
“I’ll find four for you.”
“First person, female, last name Scarangello, first name Roxanne. That’s S-C-A—”
“Hey, I’ve got four cousins named Roxanne Scarangello. What do you got on her?”
“College grad, maybe grad school, UPenn or Penn State—”
“What’s the difference?”
“How the fuck do I know? Just listen. Late twenties, came from the Philly area, and may still be down there. Born June, no date, no year.”
“That’s it?”
There was no reason to tell him about her summer employment, which would send him to the Bayview Hotel, which I didn’t want. I said, “That’s it. Check the universities first.”
“Duh. You think?”
“Second person, male, last name Brock.” I spelled it. “First name Christopher. He’d be about thirty-five. No DOB. Works or worked in the hotel industry. Last known address about five years ago was Long Island.”
“That’s not much.”
“He had a tattoo of a mouse peeking out of his asshole.”
“Oh, that Christopher Brock.”
“Third person, female, last name Gonzalez Perez, first name Lucita. I don’t have a spelling. Hispanic, obviously, country of origin El Salvador, immigration status unknown, age about twenty-three or -four, worked in the hotel industry.” I added, “You’re not going to have much luck with that one. Concentrate on the first two.”
“Okay. What’s this all about?”
“I can’t say, Dom.”
“Can I guess?”
I didn’t reply.
Fanelli said, “So, I called Harry Muller, just to say hello and how do you like working for the Feds. And we get around to John Corey, and he says you’ve been acting strange. And I say, ‘What’s so strange about Corey acting strange?’ And he says you’ve been AWOL the last few days, and he’s passing on verbal messages to your wife. Even stranger, you bought two kielbasa sandwiches for you and him, and you didn’t eat yours. Then he calls me this morning and says Stein spoke to you in his office, and now you’re AWOL again, and he’s waiting for a toasted muffin. So—”
“Don’t you have to get to a double homicide?”
&nb
sp; “Nah. They’re not going anywhere. So, from all this, I conclude that you’re poking your nose into TWA 800.”
I was a little taken aback, but replied coolly, “How could you conclude that?”
“Easy. I just put it all together.”
“Put what together?”
“Oh, and you asked Muller if he worked the TWA case, and you told him you went to the memorial service, and I know Kate worked the case, and so did Marie Gubitosi. And now you want a make on a guy named Brock who lived on Long Island five years ago. Coincidence? I think not. I’m seeing a pattern here, John.”
Sometimes I forget that the Blue Network works both ways, and I forget that Dom Fanelli is a smart cop. I said to him, “You should be a detective. Okay, see what you can get me on those names.”
“How soon do you need this?”
“About two months.”
“I should know in about two weeks. Maybe two days. I’ll call you.”
“Take your time. I’m going to Yemen for a couple of months.”
“Where the fuck is Yemen?”
“It’s on the map.” I added, “I’m being shipped out to teach me a lesson about following orders.”
“That sucks. Maybe you should follow orders.”
“I am. I’m going to Yemen.”
“Is that like Staten Island?”
“Yeah, but the Feds have a bigger beat. Also, Kate’s going to Africa for the same lesson.”
“Mama mia. You guys got screwed. Hey, I’ll keep an eye on your apartment while you’re gone.”
“I’ll give you a key to keep an eye on it. But do not use it as a love nest.”
“A what? Hey, paisano, what happens to me if the Feds get wise that I’m looking for these people? Do I get a free trip to Yemen?”
“They’re not going to find out. You don’t have to question these people or make any contact with them. I just need to know where they are. I’ll take care of it when I get back.”
“You got it. Let’s have a beer before you leave.”
“Not a good idea. I’m hot at the moment. I’ll leave my apartment key in the building manager’s office.”
“Okay. Hey, is this worth it?”
I understood the question and replied, “I wasn’t sure at first. But I just got kicked in the balls by the system. So now I’ve got to kick back.”
Night Fall Page 22
