Red Alert(NYPD Red #5)(49)

PART THREE





SEX SLAVE





CHAPTER 46



After dinner we adjourned to Juntasa’s library, where he treated us to a verbal and visual tour of the things he loved most: his native Thailand and the story of his life.

We’d been warned to turn our phones off lest we offend our host, and by the time we were finally able to break loose from his nonstop hospitality, we each had a string of voice mails and texts.

“You’d think the man would be content running the prison system,” Kylie said as soon as we squeezed our tired bodies back into the cramped confines of the Toyota Yaris. “But no: on top of that, the son of a bitch likes to take prisoners at dinner. I was ready to go three rounds of Muay Thai with him just to buy us a few hours of freedom.”

Our first call was to Cates. We told her that Geraldo Segura had changed his name to Rom Ran Sura and had boxed thirty years off his fifty-year sentence.

“He’s out?” Cates said.

“Pardoned by the king of Thailand,” I said. “Odds are he’s in New York.”

“He’d need a passport to get back into the U.S.,” she said. “He can’t get one of those by royal decree. He’d have to go through the American Embassy.”

“We can check tomorrow,” I said, “but they operate with all the efficiency of the same federal government that runs Medicare, so don’t get your hopes up. Segura wasn’t on any watch list, and with two people dead, let’s just assume he managed to slip in. He’s well-known in Thailand, so I’m sure we can find a recent picture and email it to you. Have someone alert Homeland and get out a BOLO on him.”

“When will you be back?”

“We just got permission to interview the bomb maker tomorrow morning. As soon as we’re done, we’ll be jumping on our private jet and flying home.”

“What about Nathan Hirsch and Princeton Wells?”

“What about them?”

“Have you called them and told them Segura is on the loose?”

“They know somebody is after them, so hopefully they’re lying low. We’ll call them as soon as we finish talking with you.”

“That would be now,” she said, and hung up.

Kylie called Princeton Wells while I tried Nathan Hirsch. I caught him at his office. So much for lying low.

“Oh God,” he said once I’d filled him in. “Geraldo? Geraldo killed Del and Arnie?”

“We have no proof,” I said, “but he’s at the top of the suspect list.”

“And I’m at the top of his hit list.”

“You and Princeton Wells.”

“Now that you know who you’re looking for, can’t you just put a shitload of cops on it and hunt him down?” he said.

“We will,” I said, “but now that you know who we’re looking for, can you pack up your family and head for an undisclosed location until we find him?”

He snorted a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “Do you know what I do for a living, Detective?”

“Yes, sir.”

“No, you don’t. You’re thinking, He’s some kind of lawyer. I’m not some kind of anything. I’m first chair on an eight-hundred-million-dollar class action lawsuit. Three years’ worth of prep is coming to a head in the next few days. I can’t just drop everything and go.”

“Can you keep a low profile?”

“Detective, when there’s eight hundred million dollars on the line, there are no low profiles.”

“Do you want police protection?”

“You mean do I want to walk into the courtroom with a couple of cops and a bomb-sniffing dog? How do you think that little tableau will play with the jury? Besides, police protection is bullshit. Del was surrounded by cops. Arnie rattled NYPD’s cage from the commissioner on down. Fat lot of good that did either of them.”

“It’s your call, Mr. Hirsch. Just know that the department is ready to help in any way we can.”

“You want to help?” he said. “Find Geraldo Segura, and let me get back to my fucking life.”

He hung up.

Kylie’s phone call had gone much faster than mine. “How did Wells take the news?” I asked.

“First shock, followed by acceptance, and finally he uttered those same four little words he said when he found out about the murders of his two partners: ‘I need a drink.’”

Ten minutes later, we arrived at the hotel, and Kylie looked at her watch.

“Midnight,” she said.

“Good,” I said. “I’ve had enough assholes for one day.”





CHAPTER 47



Juntasa was a man of his word. Our interview with Flynn Samuels was set for 8:00 a.m. David Hinds picked us up at our hotel at seven thirty.

“Ah, the embassy Lincoln,” Kylie said as we got into the spacious back seat. “Glad to see she’s back on the road. I’ll bet your roommate’s happy about it, too.”

Hinds wisely decided not to take the bait. “I’m sure you’ve been to prisons in the States,” he said, pulling out onto Wireless Road. “Klong Prem is going to be a hell of a lot uglier.”