Daylight (Atlee Pine, #3)(37)
Pine added, “Then the cop probably hid behind some of the junk in the alley until we passed by, or maybe just went back down the hole he came out of.”
“Then he comes out after we pass, follows us down the alley, waits until we finger Jerome, and then shoots him before he can tell us the truth. Neat and tidy.”
Puller used his phone camera to take shots of the prints. They were careful to walk to the side to avoid impacting what was now evidence at a crime scene.
“And you know what we’re not seeing?” said Pine.
“Any evidence that the local cops have been down here.”
They followed the dual set of footprints along the passageway, which was long and curved in numerous places. It finally ended in a blank wall and another ladder. They climbed it back to ground level, pushed open the manhole cover, and found themselves in a large room inside a building. It was full of machinery and dull gray panels on the wall, behind which were switches and circuit breakers.
“This must be one of the power company’s control rooms for the energy being provided to the area,” noted Pine.
The footsteps in the dust led to the only door in the place. They headed over to it. Using a latex glove he pulled from his jacket, Puller tried the knob. It was locked, and there was no way to unlock it from in here.
“No surprise there,” he said. He pulled out a small leather kit from his other pocket, opened it, and took out two slender pieces of shaped metal. He examined the lock and then inserted the pick tools into it and started working away, his ear close to the lock.
“The military has taught you some impressive skills,” said Pine with a sly smile.
“That’s the Army way. I’m sure you’re not lacking there, either.”
There was a click, and he turned the knob and the door opened. They cautiously peered outside.
“Shit,” said Pine.
They were staring at the back of a police station.
Puller checked to see that no one was in the vicinity, then they stepped out and he closed the door softly behind him.
“Pretty ballsy of them to make their entrance right next to the cops,” said Pine.
“Unless he really is a cop,” replied Puller. “In which case it makes perfect sense. Jerome was never going to live to point the finger at him.”
As they walked back toward where Blum was waiting for them, Pine said, “Okay, are we looking at a rogue cop or something more than that?”
“A rogue works alone. Nothing I’ve seen so far indicates this guy is a loner. Quite the contrary.”
“I was hoping you were going to say that, because I personally think we’re dealing with one of those conspiracies you hear morons online pushing all the time.”
“Thinking the same thing.”
“So if the locals are in on it, and the feds are in on it?” said Pine expectantly.
“That leaves little room for us to operate. So we have to watch our p’s and q’s like we’ve never done before.”
“You said before you didn’t know what you’d do if you got called off the case.”
“Every time the phone rings, I dread answering it because it might be that call.” He hesitated. “But I can’t leave it like this.”
“But you’re in the military. If they reassign you to another case, you have to go.”
“What about you? You work for a big, unforgiving bureaucracy, too.”
“I’m working on a short leash there. In a few days I expect to get an order to hightail it back to Arizona and be a good agent and forget all about this.”
“And?” he said expectantly.
“And I’m like you. I can’t leave it like this.”
“This isn’t really your fight, though. You need to work on your sister’s case. I can plug my thumb in the dike and hope it holds.”
“Nice try, my knight in shining armor, but you know me too well to think I’m going to sign off on that. It’s both or none.”
“Then can I make suggestion?”
“Please do.”
“Let’s attack both at the same time. You want to find Tony Vincenzo for your own purposes, and so do I. One thing I haven’t told you is I had a surveillance team on Tony before we tried to arrest him. He went to New York a few times. To one place in particular, a skyscraper on Billionaires’ Row.”
“Billionaires’ Row?”
“It’s around the Fifty-Seventh Street corridor. Splinter-in-thesky buildings where the apartments are owned by the überwealthy. Some of them are purchased by Russian oligarchs, foreign strong-men looking to move money out of their country, Arab sheiks, that sort of thing.”
“What was Tony Vincenzo doing at one of those places?”
Puller said, “We don’t know, but we need to find out. And on two occasions he drove up there in an Aston Martin.”
“An Aston Martin? How much money was he making from his pills?”
“The car wasn’t registered to him. It was registered in the name of a shell company. We tried to trace it back but hit a dead end. Only people with money and/or connections can do that.”
Pine mulled over this. “Okay. So this thing just went to another level.”
“I’m going to give you some names at Fort Dix in the motor pool. And other people he worked with there. I want you to talk to them and see what they can tell you. That way they can’t ding me for investigating it.”