The Second Life of Nick Mason (Nick Mason #1)(76)

Investigators have cited an unnamed Chicago police officer for his role in providing key evidence used to put together these indictments. That officer’s name is not being released to the public, but an anonymous spokesman stated that “the evidence shows a clear and consistent pattern of corruption, with regular cash payments made to the officers by high-level suppliers in exchange for protection against arrest and prosecution.” Those cash payments were described as ranging anywhere from $5,000 to $50,000.

The same source states that, aside from detailed records of transactions between police officers and dealers, there were also several hours of recorded conversations. He went on to say that “these recorded conversations between various members of the SIS task force and one supplier paint a chilling portrait of police officers on the take, for sale to the highest bidder.”

Chicago police superintendent Garry McCarthy issued the following statement:

“I stand with Chief Rivera and Mayor Emanuel in expressing my condemnation of the actions taken by these rogue individuals and my profound disappointment in how these actions may reflect upon the more than 12,000 other members of the Chicago Police Department who perform their duties every day with integrity and honor. I want to thank the officer who came forward with information crucial to the exposure of these crimes. And I encourage all members of the force to consider this a great example to follow as we continue to work with the FBI, DEA, and our own Bureau of Internal Affairs to pursue those involved in corruption.”

In a press conference immediately following this press release, Superintendent Garry McCarthy announced that “all SIS investigations and other related activity will immediately be suspended, pending resolution of these charges.” He went on to say that “As of now, SIS is no longer in business.”

The District Attorney’s Office has also informed the Chicago Police Department that, as a matter of prosecutorial discretion, it would no longer rely on testimony from Sergeant Bloome or Detectives Fairley, Spiller, Harrison, Jaynes, Baylor, and Coleman. As a result, there are no open active cases involving these officers.

No officials contacted at the United States Attorney’s Office were willing to speculate on the possible prison terms that may result from the charges leveled against these members of SIS, but the sentencing guidelines for these charges mean that, if convicted, the officers would be serving literally hundreds of years in federal prison.

The unnamed source with access to the evidence gave his own prediction about the eventual resolution of this case:

“We’ve had more than our share of bad cops in this town. But these guys are the worst. They’ll do more hard time than all the rest of them put together.”





Epilogue




Mason walked down the wet sidewalk, a dark silhouette in the rain, with a million lights all reflected in the slick streets. It was one of those nights when the air turns heavy and cold, chilling your skin no matter how many layers you wear.

The rain kept falling. Mason was alone. As he walked, he watched the ground in front of him with haunted eyes. The eyes of a soldier who’s been to war. A man who has seen too much.

A man who will never be the same again.

He didn’t care that he was soaked right through his clothes. Not tonight. He kept moving until he came to the store at the end of the block, its interior lights making the windows glow in the darkness.

Max saw him first, his tail already wagging as Mason stepped inside. Mason stood there, dripping in the doorway, his white shirt plastered against his chest.

Lauren looked up from the counter. She was just about to close the store, already had the apology lined up for this last customer of the day. But then she saw Mason’s face.

She caught her breath. He had a new bruise around his left eye. A scrape along his jawline. For a long moment, neither of them said a word.

“I’m here to pick up Max,” Mason finally said. He went to the gate and put his hand down on the dog. Max kept wagging his tail.

“You bought him,” she said. “He’s all yours.”

“Glad you’re here. I wanted to—”

“What’s really going on?” she said. “Just tell me that.”

That stopped him dead.

“Every time I see you,” she said, “you’re covered in bruises.”

“I wish I could tell you,” he said, “but I can’t. Not right now.”

“Then take Max and go.”

“Lauren, listen,” he said, coming closer to her. “You’ve got every reason not to let me into your life. But I’m asking you . . .”

He paused. He’d been so afraid of letting her in. Now he needed the right words to make her stay. But those words weren’t coming to him.

As Lauren waited, she didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to remember the one night they’d spent together. She’d been thinking about him way too much since then. How many times had she looked out these windows and wondered if she’d ever see him again?

“This was a mistake,” he said at last. “I should just—”

“Do you sell drugs? Is that where you get your money?”

He forced a smile and shook his head. That would be an easier life, he thought.

“So tell me the truth,” she said. “Who do you work for?”