Vindication- Ties That Bind

by Patricia Kasdan

  “Let the record show Misses Santiago motioned zippering and placing her hood on. Do you mean a hoodie?”

  “Si, si, um, yes, a hooodie. He come around the pole and shoot the man in the suit, that Nelson guy, but not before Nelson fired his gun to the stairs. Then same time Evan fall down the stairs right in front of the hooodie man. He look down and see Evan. He grab Evan’s hand and put the gun he just shoot Nelson with, in Evan’s hand and pull the trigger again. Blood go everywhere. I want to run but I think he hear me, that I say there. He pick up Nelson’s gun and left his gun by Evan and ran out the other door. That when I run, I dropped one bags I have, it hit the door when I turned and run, but I no go back to get it I too scared. I ran all the way home.”

  Travis and Krista exchanged a look, both knowing what she said was the truth. Krista had a million questions thundering around in her head, but she couldn’t ask one of them. Not on record, she would have to wait.

  Travis’s face scrunched up in a look of confusion as he asked Rosa, “Let me get this straight. There were three men in the building.”

  “Yes.”

  “I want to get an interpreter in here, and I would like for you to explain to me one more time about the guns.”

  When the interpreter came in, Travis took Rosa through the entire scenario again. This time getting it on record in perfect English.

  “There were two guns, the man in the hoodie, shot Nelson, the man in the suit, then he took the gun and put his gun into Evan’s hand and shot it at Nelson again. After that, he picked up Nelson’s gun and ran out. I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but it was not Evan who killed that man.”

  Tell her, “It makes sense to me. I just wanted to make sure I understood her. Rosa, could you describe the other man to a sketch artist? Do you remember what he looks like?”

  The interpreter responded for Rosa, “Yes, I do, I see his face when I try to sleep. I will do this but only because I want to help Evan. That man cannot know it was me. I have babies to take care of. Promise me he will not know it was me.”

  “We will do everything in our power.”

  Every muscle in Krista’s body was tense. She knew with every ounce of her being that Evan didn’t kill Nelson, and now she had the proof.

  31

  Brooklyn 1978

  At the sound of concern that flowed from Mickey’s voice, Kathleen broke down and started to sob. “Me is an eejit; me was taken for all me money and almost disgraced.”

  “What do ya mean, girl?”

  “There were two Russian men who came into the pub …," she continued to tell Mickey how she got banged up and how her money was stolen. By the time she had finished Mickey had walked her in the pub and had every man standing around her listening.

  “Mickey looked deep into her eye and said, ‘Kathleen, ya know that there's’ no prosperity without discipline. Me ask ya again, what were ya thinking girl? Now run up and get ye self, cleaned up, not another word.”

  He turned towards the other men as angry flashed across his face. With every word he spit out of his mouth, his Irish brogue thickened “Kathleen’s not the eejit, she is just a little too naive. They are the eejit’s if they think they can fleece the Irish and get away with it. We had a truce, an agreement, the Russians stay in their territory, and we stay in ours. I heard of this “Potato Bang Gang and the scam they were pulling," I didn’t care, as long as it didn’t affect the Irish community. They want a w-are they will get a w-are.”

  One of the men piped up, “Mickey, we should go and talk to Agron. See if these men were even his.”

  Mickey was pacing back and forth, he ordered a pint and downed it as if inhaling air. “Motherless arses, they best be praying to the saints.”

  Mickey and his men jumped into their cars and bee lined over to Brighton Beach. Mickey knew that Agron set up shop in Tatiana’s Cafe. He’d sit at the corner table every night from seven until close. Mickey also knew he needed to announce himself. The last thing he wanted to do was get shot when he walked in the door. They pulled over to the curb and got out. He saw a young boy walking down the street. After asking him if he spoke English, he told him he had ten dollars for him if he would go into Tatiana’s and give a note to the man at the table. The one in the corner farthest from the door. The note read ‘Evsei- We need to talk. I be outside, don’t want trouble - Mickey Spillane’.

  Evsei Agron was the head of the ‘Vory, the Russian mob that controlled Brighton Beach. Mickey had a respectable relationship with him. “You stay the fuck out of me business, and I’ll stay the fuck out of yours," and it had been working, up until today.

  Evsei sent two of his men out to wave Mickey in. He entered the door flanked by his men. Shoulders were squared, chests were puffed, and hands were positioned just above holsters. Mickey walked forward with his hand out to greet Evsei. With that Evsei waved his men down and for Mickey to sit. As Mickey sat, the tension in the room stood.

  “Mickey.”

  With a slight nod, he replied, “Evsei.”

  “So, what brings you to my domain, what can be so important, you show up without an invitation? You’re fortunate, I had a good day and haven’t had much drink yet.”

  “We needed to talk, face to face, and not through a grapevine. We had an agreement, and me trust that you would keep it, with that being said, we got us a problem.”

  “I don’t see any problem, except you breaching us.”

  “Your potato scam, it’s in the Irish streets. One of our barmaids was jumped after going to meet two of your men about gold rubles.”

  Slamming his hand on the table and almost knocking over his drink, Evsei stood and thru gritted teeth said, “That’s a bunch of der’mo, just because some little suka tells you she was conned, the trail doesn’t lead here. We do have a deal, one that I honor.”

  Every man stood ready; the room vibrated with tension.

  “For the love of Pete, me come to inform you of the happenings, not to start a w-are. Me needed me a drink before me come here, to calm me brain and think clearly. We have a truce; we have an understanding that has held many a time now. Ye breaking it didn’t make one bit of sense. If ye want to hear the whole of it, just relax a minute.”

  “Make it fast Spillane; you are trying my patience.”

  “This is how I see it. Someone is trying to move in on ye operations, or they have gone rogue, with them not knowing our agreement, they made a huge mistake. I can tell ya their names, or at least the one. Maybe that ‘I’ll help ye.”

  “If someone is moving in on my territory I can tell you. They won’t be breathing for long.”

  “All the lass told me was he called himself Nikolay. No sir name and the other bloke's name didn’t come up. And I tell ye this; she is no suka, the lass is no bitch, a good girl she is."

  Evsei, couldn't help but laugh. "If she is a female, she is a suka."

  Mickey waved his hand in the air as if shooing a fly away. "Just listen a second, me men saw the two in the bar earlier, didn’t really pay ‘em any mind, but they know what they look like. One was tall, bulky with dark hair and had crazy eyes; the other was a big fella, looked to be right out of the cage. Prison muscles, if ya get me.”

  “Sounds like Petrov and his cellmate, two Russian street rats. We will look into this. If what you say is true, you won’t have to hear anything through the grapevine; you’ll see their blood on the streets.”

  32

  Eyewitness

  After Travis set Rosa up with the sketch artist, Anderson and an interpreter, he walked back down the hall to Krista. Krista’s face was red hot, and her eyes were practically glowing. She looked as though she would burst into flames at any given moment. “How could you promise her anything? You know we would need her to testify.”

  “Calm down. I didn’t promise her anything. What I said is that - and I quote, ‘We will do everything in our power.'”

  Fire flew from Krista’s eyes. “I will not do anything, except work towards getting my
brother out of prison.”

  “As I said, calm down. Are you forgetting about the second bullet we found? That kinda collaborates her story, don’t you think? That and the grocery bag. I’ll work the evidence, Krista, you know I will. What did I say to begin with? No matter what or who is involved, we will follow the evidence, and we’ll get to the truth.”

  Blowing out a long breath and inhaling as if it was her first, she said, “I know what you said, and you need to know — damn, sorry Travis, it is so frustrating not taking the lead on this, having to rely on other people.”

  “Oh really, Miss ‘I got this.’ You think I don’t know that, but if it weren't for you, we wouldn’t be where we are now. Just believe I-got-this, this time.”

  “Fine, I’m going to call my sister and catch her up, but I’m not going anywhere. I want to see the sketch.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  Leaving Krista to make her call, he put a call thru to Boyd.

  He answered on the third ring. “Boyd.”

  “I have an eyewitness for the York Street murder, down here at the Camden police station. I set her up with the sketch artist, Anderson.”

  “She’s good, if anyone will get the sketch, it will be her.”

  “My thoughts too. I had her go to the station. The eyewitness is saying that she saw someone else shoot Nelson Hendricks. I’m interested to see if this has anything to do with the shipment. The timing of everything fits. On the off chance that it doesn’t, we could officially hand it off to the FBI.”

  “I’d like to see what Anderson comes up with. Didn’t you say you recovered another bullet at the scene?”

  “What are you a freakin’ mind reader? She also states that the guns were switched out. Insists the two of them got a shot off. One killing Nelson and I’d lay money, the other bullet we found is from the other gun.”

  “Where’d you find her?”

  “I didn’t; it was Levell. She had seen her a couple of times near the scene and then again in the courtroom. She tracked her down and tagged me to question her.”

  “Levell’s bustin' her hump working this, isn’t she? First the stray bullet and now an eye-wit, you thinking she’s legit - the eyewitness?”

  “Everything seems to line up. We’ll just have to see how it all plays out. Her story seems to fit, peculiarly with the second gun.”

  “Did they run ballistics on both bullets?”

  “Gerry was running the second one when I left. We do know one is from a .38 and one is from a .45 caliber. I’m going to check back with him, see if they were able to match the prints. That’s if they were able to pull any.”

  “I’m running down some chatter we picked up. I’ll let you know what’s up; if anything. You do the same.”

  “Yeah, I got some threads to pull myself. I want to reach out to our agents stationed in Germany, see if they heard any chatter on the shipment coming in. You’ll know when I know.”

  Travis ended the call, putting his phone back in his pocket. He decided to leave Anderson to her job and see if they could find a place to work in the meantime. He hadn’t heard back from the Thailand agents, and that was a concern. Between Germany and Thailand, he’d keep busy.

  Stevenson was walking towards the exit when Travis caught up with him. “I need a space to set up. I don’t want to go across town just to come back.”

  “Things are tight here. I don’t know where to park you. Let me check with my Lieutenant.”

  While Stevenson went to talk to his Lieutenant, Travis walked down the hall to the men’s room. He stepped in front of the mirror and was not surprised to see a reflection that looked ten years older than just two days ago. He had a total of nine hours of shut-eye in the past 48 hours. He scrubbed his hands over his face then turned the water on full blast. He bent down and splashed his face with hot water, only then realizing there wasn’t any paper towel available, a hot air blower was attached to the wall nearest the sink. Cursing aloud, he wiped his face on his sleeve. This is turning out to be a pisser of a day.

  It didn’t get any better when he caught up to Stevenson.

  “My Lieutenant can find you a spot, but only if it doesn’t cost the department. Only local calls and he can’t give you any secure lines.”

  Travis ran his hand down the side of his face making his skin look as though it was melting. “It’s not going to work. I gotta reach out, outside this great U.S of A. Tell him I said thanks.”

  “Sorry man, to quote him ‘I’m all for cooperation, but their budget is a lot more than ours.’ “

  “I get that, but what a pain in the ass. I can’t sit around waiting for Anderson, who knows how long that’ll take. I should have set her up over in our department; I wasn’t thinking.”

  Travis went to find Krista. Damn, I need another cup of coffee. When he caught up with her, she was just ending the call with her sister. He looked her up and down realizing she didn’t look any better than he did.

  “You look as good as I feel.”

  “Haha, you must feel absolutely amazing.”

  “Now who’s full of funny? I gotta go, I have some calls to make and can’t make them here. I want to stop by the lab on my way and talk to Gerry. Are you staying put?”

  “I’m not budging until Rosa finishes up. I need to take her home too. Do me a solid, ask Anderson to loop me in when she’s through with the sketch.”

  “Will do. Call or text me when she does.”

  33

  The CI

  Travis reluctantly made his way to the DEA headquarters in Manhattan. If he had thought to bring his files with him, he could have camped out in the Cherry Hill office in New Jersey. So much for that idea. Even with the traffic being a bitch, it was worth being on his home turf and not having to ask permission to use the damn phone. He put a call through to Thailand and couldn’t reach the agent he was working with. He left a message to get a call back asap, then called the DEA headquarters in Germany. The agent that took his call was civil, but not helpful at all. He seemed to be hitting walls with every turn he made. From the look of frustration that passed over Boyd’s face, he wasn’t having much better luck.

  “Travis, you have a call on line four, they won’t say who it is.”

  He picked up the phone, “This is Wilks.”

  “I lost your card. I had to call the office.”

  Travis recognized the voice immediately. It was his confidential informant (CI), Tweak.

  “The shipment moved up. They scheduled it for next week. I got a contact name on this end.”

  Waving his arms to get the attention of Boyd, Travis couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This is the closest they had come to busting this ring wide open. “Who, what’s the name?”

  “No way, I’m not dropping it over the phone. This is worth triple what you pay. Meet me down in Camden with the cash, and it’s yours.”

  “Triple, what are you high again?”

  “It's triple, or my memory gets fuzzy. I put my ass on the line for you, it’s worth it.”

  “You put your ass on the line for you, not me. Maybe a dime in the cage would work better for you.”

  “I’ve come through for you. You can’t do that.”

  “Oh, but I can, so do yourself a favor and don’t push it. I’ll meet you in two hours.”

  “Boyd, did you get that? We might have a name.”

  “Name or not, we’re bringing them down. With the amount of Heroine that is making its way through, we don’t have a choice. All our intel points to routes from Russia through Thailand…”

  “That’s the piece of the puzzle that doesn’t fit for command. Their question is, ‘Why not straight from Russia?’ If it were me, I’d absolutely do what they’re doing. The longer the trail, the harder to trace. The way we’ve been busting up Russian rings here, they probably figure we’d blame the Thai’s. The downtown streets of Bangkok are swarming with Russian money laundering, prostitution, drugs, all hidden behind little restaurants. They can’t be so naive t
o think we don’t know what they’re up to. It could be very well that the Thai gangs have a hand in this too. Let’s see what my snitch has for us. If the name pans out, we might be bringing more than the Russians down.”

  “Keep me looped in if the timeline is moved up, something big is happening.”

  “You got it.”

  The fact that he had just come from Camden burned his ass. This time, his files would be locked in the trunk of his car. The drive was taking forever. The roads were finally cleared, but that didn’t seem to have an effect on traffic. White residue was left behind from the salt brine that highway workers sprayed, probably again that morning. People that stayed in during the snowstorm flew by him, trying to make up for lost time. Not one, thinking about the slick spots that were stubbornly clinging to the asphalt. He watched as the car in front of him spun out of control, landing on the side of the road, just inches from the guardrail. He was grateful to see a patrol car pull up behind it, out of nowhere, he didn’t have the time to stop. It seemed to him, every time he drove in this weather, he witnessed an accident. He could remember a few years back, driving down Route 76 when a car did the same thing. Unfortunately, they used rock salt than for de-icing the roadways. As the car spun it whipped the salt into the air, it hit his windshield and cracked it. Whoever thought to use a salt brine was a genius. He recalled an article he had read that explained not only was it cost effective to break the salt down into a liquid, but also how the rock would not melt ice when the temperature dropped down below 15 degrees Fahrenheit. Somebody was using their brain.

  As he eased down the exit off of 676, the excitement in him grew. To have a name to go with the operation was a stroke of luck. He also knew it could be bogus. He held onto the hope, knowing that this snitch’s info usually panned out. He wanted to stay out of prison and the only way for him to accomplish that was to be in the know.