Never Tell (Detective D.D. Warren #10)(103)

“A good ten to fifteen,” D.D. supplied.

“Think of the network he himself must’ve started building under his various aliases. Providers of services who knew and trusted him, allowing him to dig deeper and deeper. Except he’s not just looking at one crime. He’s looking at all sorts of criminal enterprises. What if he figured something out? What if he figured someone out? Because as Keith is saying, none of the dark web can exist without actual people managing the works.”

Long pause. “You mean like Ulbricht from the Silk Road.”

“Maybe. But it doesn’t have to be he identified some huge mastermind. It would be enough to reveal the principal at the local high school is actually the person running the child porn forum, or the nice lady up the block is a secret assassin for hire. It would explain the arson angle as well. If Conrad figured out an identity, the person in question might be worried Conrad documented it somehow. A notebook tucked in a drawer. A journal he gave to a known criminal defense attorney who’s close personal friends with his wife.”

A pause as D.D. considers the idea. “Not a bad theory,” she says at last. “But given that it’s also pure conjecture, it doesn’t help us.”

“Not yet. But give Keith some time. He can approach it from the dark web itself, using Conrad’s various aliases to identify connections. He’ll figure it out.” I look at Keith squarely for the first time all morning. He arches a brow at the huge promises I just made in his name. But he doesn’t shake his head. He’ll do it. Meaning maybe I was wrong about him after all. Maybe there is hope for us. Maybe there is hope for me.

“We know Conrad knew Jacob,” Quincy murmurs from behind Keith’s shoulder. “If we use I. N. Verness to vouch for Conrad, and Conrad to vouch for I. N. Verness …”

Keith starts to nod. Quincy peers down closer at the screen. They are on it. Meaning my work here is done. I end the call with D.D., head for the door.

“Where are you going?” Keith calls out.

“I’m gonna catch myself a firebug.”

—

I START WITH a map of the Green Line pulled up on my phone. It’s a major artery, but then the Boston T system has many of them. Unfortunately, based on where Rocket entered the system, he would’ve passed through several major hubs where he could’ve exited the Green Line and entered any number of other ones. It takes me about thirty seconds to realize the possibilities are endless and I’m not going to get anywhere staring a color-coded mass-transit map.

Instead, I start plotting points. Rocket’s neighborhood. Where I’d think, having conducted his business, he’d head back to. A comfort-zone sort of thing, till the dust settled. Add to that, the location of his drop box. Having performed a major job, he’d also want to collect his fee.

Both of these points are in the exact opposite direction of Rocket’s Lechmere-bound subway. Was he trying to be clever? Knew the police might be watching so deliberately tried to mislead them? Except if he’s that smart, he’d know they’d be waiting for him at home, too. So maybe, in fact, he can’t go back to the hood. He needs a safer place to hang for a while.

I decide to be brave. I dial not D.D. but her second-in-command, Phil, the detective voted most likely to be Father of the Year. He doesn’t like me. I’m never sure what to make of him. I didn’t grow up with a father, so I’m never sure if his perpetual scowl of disapproval is the real thing or a show of affection.

“Does Rocket Langley have a list of known associates?” I ask without preamble. “I’m staring at the T map, and he headed directly away from his neighborhood, which makes me think he may have another place to hang out.”

“D.D. asked you to chase Rocket?” Yep, definite disapproval.

“I’ve met him before.”

“And if you catch him?”

“I pinky promise I’ll only talk to him. Unless, of course, he starts playing with matches. Then all bets are off.”

“Rocket has an older brother and a friend from high school. Both live on the same block, however.”

So much for that theory. “Do you know when he got the gig to burn Dick Delaney’s town house?”

“Actually, we have two detectives reviewing every second of video footage, and the only activity we can find at his drop box is Wednesday morning before the first fire. If he was contracted to do a second job at Delaney’s, we haven’t picked up any contact yet.”

I frown. Rocket had a system. Why deviate from it now? I’d made contact with him last night, but he had no reason to think of me as a legal threat. Instead, I’m his somewhat scary future client. So again …

I get an uncomfortable feeling. Lechmere. Headed toward Cambridge. Where Evie lived with her mother.

Her house.

Her lawyer’s house.

Her mother’s house.

“It wasn’t one target,” I hear myself whisper.

“Excuse me?”

“The initial drop. Rocket wasn’t contracted to burn just Evie’s house. He was contracted to torch three homes, the three places Conrad could’ve hidden a secret. His home, the attorney’s home, his mother-in-law’s home. Rocket is headed to Cambridge, where he’ll hit Evie’s mother’s house next.”





CHAPTER 34