Fear No Evil(Alex Cross #29)(15)

Allegations of corruption in federal law enforcement and intelligence agencies by the Alejandro drug cartel

Allegations of corruption of two U.S. congresspersons by the Alejandro cartel

Allegations of corruption against specific named members of U.S. law enforcement by the Alejandro cartel

Allegations of corruption by Catherine Hingham against herself



“What else?” Mahoney asked after these were written along the top of a large, long whiteboard he’d had hung on the wall of the space the FBI gave us.

Sampson said, “Links from Hingham to those other named law enforcement personnel. How did she know they were corrupt? What’s the connection?”

“I get it,” Mahoney said, writing that on the board. “Other people of interest?”

I said, “Dean Weaver, Hingham’s supervising field officer at the CIA.”

“And the rest of his team,” Sampson said. “They showed up at the crime scene and tried to take over. We still don’t understand how they knew she’d been killed before she had even been identified.”

“However they found out, they’re CIA and can’t operate in the United States.”

“Exactly what we told them,” Sampson said.

I said, “Put Marco Alejandro up there on the suspects list.”

“Marco’s out of the picture,” Mahoney said. “He’s been buried inside a supermax for the past eleven months. No communication whatsoever.”

“Then who’s running the cartel?”

“I’ll get the latest from DEA intel.”

“If that intel’s not tainted,” Sampson said. “Hingham said there was broad, interdepartmental corruption because of the cartel. So who do we trust?”

Ned said, “We trust the evidence and follow it. Especially the money trails, to wherever and whomever they lead.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I got it out, saw it was Bree, and answered. “I wondered when I’d hear from you,” I said, holding up a finger and exiting the war room for the hallway. “What time is it there?”

“Around eleven,” she said. “I’m tired but wired.”

“Sleep will find you. How’s the case?”

“I can’t give you the details, but I’d like your advice on something.”

“Go ahead.”

“What if you knew something really bad was about to happen to someone inside an investigation, but if you warned the person, you would lose the opportunity to potentially catch a really bad guy in the midst of a really bad act? Something not even money and power could make go away?”

“As Margaret Forester might say, that’s a doozy.”

“Margaret Forester?”

“The documents expert in the Metro lab?”

“Oh,” she said and yawned. “Of course. And, yes, this is a doozy.”

“What’s the time frame of the bad act going down?”

“Next two weeks?”

“How bad an act?”

“The kind that would violate and damage someone physically and mentally for years to come.”

“That’s a hard one. I mean, if your goal is to prevent this kind of thing from ever happening again.”

“You understand my predicament.”

“Any chance you could recruit the person in danger, tell them what you know and hope they come to your side of the fight?”

“I’ve thought of that,” Bree said. “The problem is, I can’t use everything I know, because most of it is under seal by corrupt judges.”

“Then lever the judges,” I said.

“That’s tomorrow,” Bree said. “How are you? The kids? Nana?”

“I’m fine. Working with Ned and Sampson on the Hingham case. Nana’s been sleeping in a lot. Jannie’s Jannie. Damon’s off on his backpacking trip with his college buddies. And Ali’s becoming obsessed with the arson case.”

“Okay.”

“It sounds like he’s investigating. Or wants to be.”

She fell silent after that and I knew why. We tried to shield our children from some of the difficult things we saw and did in the course of our police work. “Bree?”

“I hope you’re not encouraging that.”

“I’m trying to stay neutral.”

“As long as he’s not putting himself in danger, Alex.”

I looked at my watch. “He was at sports camp all day and should be home by now, getting ready for dinner.”

“Just the same. I don’t want him in over his head.”

Mahoney came out the door and motioned me back into the war room.

“Ned wants me and you need sleep,” I said.

“I do. And I love you.”

“I love you too and I’ll give your predicament some more thought.”

I hung up and crossed to Mahoney, who stood impatiently in the doorway.

“We’ve got a second victim, a second confession,” he said quietly. “One of ours. I want you and me on the scene ASAP.”

“Okay. Where are we going?”

“Los Angeles. Go pack a bag. I’ll meet you at Reagan National in an hour.”