Daylight

by David Baldacci

  He wore a T-shirt despite the chill in the room. They showed him their official creds and he invited them inside.

  “My wife works during the day, office job,” he said as he moved a basket of laundry and some other odds and ends so Blum and the other two could sit down. “So, Dawn called and said you needed to see my camera video?”

  “From the shooting the other night.”

  Shaffer shook his head. “Damn, that was some crazy shit, wasn’t it? But why not, I guess. Shootings happening all over the place. You’re not safe in your own house or apparently eating spaghetti bolognese at our place.”

  “So the camera?” prompted Pine.

  “Yeah, burglarized twice in the last ten months. I said enough was enough.” He turned to Pine and Puller and took out his phone. “The camera live-feeds to my phone through an app. It records all the time. It’s on some cloud loop or something that I don’t understand, but I don’t have to; it just has to work.”

  “But can you pull up a video feed from the shooting?” asked Puller.

  “I think so. The guy who set it up showed me. Give me a sec. It’s easier to do it on the laptop.”

  He got up, went out of the room, and returned with the computer. He set it down on his lap, accessed the app, and hit some keys.

  “Let’s see, I’m putting in as close to the time as I can. I remember it pretty damn well. I was making a batch of chicken marsala when I heard the shots. I’m not sure I can ever make it again. Okay, here we go.”

  He turned the computer around so they could see the screen. He hit a key and the video started to run.

  They all watched as Pine and Puller exited the restaurant and met up with Agent McElroy. A few moments later a shot rang out on the video. Though they’d been expecting it, they all flinched. McElroy dropped to the pavement, and Pine and Puller ducked down behind the car as more rounds sailed past.

  “Okay, back it up until I tell you to stop,” said Puller.

  Shaffer did so.

  “Freeze it there.”

  They were now watching the mouth of the alley where pops of gunfire were erupting from. And, just as Dawn the waitress had said, there was a blur of something. A sleeve, a leg, a hand. Even with Shaffer zooming in, they couldn’t see any more than that.

  “Run it now,” said Puller.

  They watched on the screen as first Puller and then Pine ran into the alley and vanished.

  A minute went by and Pine visualized herself running down the alley, paralleling Puller’s movement from above. They had reached the end—the dead end, in many ways—of the alley.

  Jerome had risen up from behind the trash cans. Pine had talked to him, tried to coax the gun from his hand. He had said what he had.

  The next instant she heard the shot. The shot that had ended Jerome’s life. She visualized the surprised look on his face, and then his seemingly slow-motion descent to the alley floor. In reality he had dropped instantly.

  But that dramatic vision was instantly overshadowed by something else, something both terrible and inexplicable.

  Stunned, she looked over at Puller. His expression was granite, a knot in his jaw was flexing and unflexing.

  She leaned over and whispered to Puller, “The cop who shot Jerome never appeared on the camera running into the alley.”

  “No, he didn’t,” he replied in an equally low voice.

  “Which means he was already in the alley.”

  “Which means he was the one who killed Ed McElroy,” replied Puller.

  CHAPTER

  23

  UNLIKE THAT NIGHT, it was quiet in the alley. With death came a stillness unlike any other, thought Pine. You could be in a crowded plaza teeming with the sounds of the masses, and a dead body would suck in all the noise around you and turn it into grim silence.

  Puller and Pine bracketed Blum as they entered the space.

  “The question is, where was the shooter hiding that we didn’t see him,” said Pine.

  They walked to the end of the alley and noted the line of garbage cans, behind which Jerome Blake had been hiding. They glanced down at the bloodstains on the ground where he had been shot and died.

  In those splotches Pine saw a young man who could have gone on to make the world a better place. Now he was lying in a morgue accused of a murder he had not committed. Something harsh and deep and unyielding burned in Pine’s gut. The world was filled with enough injustices every day to make you want to pull out your hair and scream at the country’s leaders to do something.

  “You came down from the roof using that ladder,” noted Pine, coming out of her musings and speaking to Puller.

  Puller eyed the same spot. “Right. Let’s run through what happened.”

  Pine said, “The cop came running up after he shot Jerome. Said Jerome was getting ready to fire his gun. I told him I didn’t think so. He checked his pulse, then almost drew down on you when you came down the ladder.”

  Puller took up the recollection. “He asked for our creds and we showed him. Then he said he was responding to your 911 call, which was clearly a lie, since he was already here.”

  “You asked if he knew Jerome and he said no. He asked who the dead guy was back there, and you told him.”

  “And he asked why a kid would be targeting an Army CID guy.”

  “Then more cops showed up and things got frenetic,” said Pine. “We both got pulled away to make statements.”

  “He was about six one and broad shouldered. Never really saw his face clearly. How about you?”

  Pine took a moment to answer. “I’d definitely recognize the guy if I saw him again.”

  “What happened to him?” asked Blum. “How did he get away?”

  “I remember looking over at Jerome’s body and then gazing around the area. Puller was talking to a sergeant.”

  “Right. He was in charge and jotting down notes and then he called in the tech team.”

  Pine said, “Then I turned and looked back down the alley. I couldn’t swear to it, but I thought I saw the guy heading out. But there were a lot of uniforms around at that point.”

  “Which made it the perfect disguise,” interjected Blum. “And also the only way you wouldn’t have jumped the guy and arrested him for shooting Jerome.”

  Puller said, “He might have been a real cop. Which would make this situation even more of a nightmare. Did you see his name tag?”

  “No. And I would have. I always look at that. Which means he wasn’t wearing one. Which should have been a dead giveaway that something was off,” said a sheepish Pine. “I blew it.”

  “I think you can be forgiven for not noticing, Agent Pine,” said Blum.

  “I can’t forgive myself, Carol. I’m trained to notice what other people don’t.” She thought for a moment. “His uniform looked legit, except for the name tag. He kept his cap on, so I don’t know if he had thinning hair or a bald spot. His forearms were pretty hairy. Like I said, I’d definitely recognize him if I saw him again.”

  Puller looked behind them. “We just have to find out where his hidey-hole was.”

  They walked back down the alley, taking it slow and looking at the blank walls. There were no doors or windows anywhere. No one could have come silently over the barbed wire that topped the locked gates going into the side alleys. A few spots looked to have once had either windows or doors but had either been bricked or boarded up. They checked these places and ensured that they were fully mortared or solidly nailed shut.

  Puller said, “They probably closed up all the side alleys and nailed all these doors and windows shut to keep out drug users and prostitutes and burglars hiding their stash. Some of these buildings are abandoned or are being renovated. Big temptation for certain elements like that.”

  “Could he have come via one of these roofs, like you did?” said Pine.

  “He still would have had to access a building somewhere. And folks running across roofs are sort of conspicuous. I’d think he’d want to keep a lower prof
ile, no pun intended.”

  They walked back to near the mouth of the alley.

  Pine said, “Jerome must have come into the alley earlier, before the video feed we saw.”

  “But what made him do that?” asked Blum.

  Pine took a few steps forward. The sounds of her boots hitting the ground changed slightly, from a thump to a hollow sounding clink.

  She looked down at the manhole cover.

  Puller followed her gaze. When they both looked up, each smiled resignedly.

  Puller ran back to his car, grabbed the lug wrench from the trunk, and rejoined them. He inserted the shaped end of the wrench into the notch in the center of the cover and exerted leverage. The metal slowly gave way, and then Puller and Pine lifted it out and set it aside.

  Pine pulled out her Tac light and shone it down into the hole.

  “Carol, you stay up here while we check this out. We’ll text you with what we find.”

  Puller went first as Pine illuminated the way for him.

  Then she slowly followed into the darkness.

  CHAPTER

  24

  WHEN SHE GOT DOWN TO THE BOTTOM, Pine shone her light around. There were copper and PVC pipes running along the walls, along with what looked to be valves and power boxes and rubber hoses.

  “Looks like an access tunnel for the utility companies,” observed Pine. “Probably servicing this whole block.” She pointed her light down.

  On the concrete floor they saw fresh footprints outlined in the grime.

  “Two sets of footprints, one big, one smaller,” noted Pine. “Maybe the cop and Jerome came together. And the prints only head in one direction, towards the alley.”

  “And none going back. So the cop brought Jerome in this way because it was the only way he could guarantee that the kid would show up and that he could control his movements. They go up the ladder and the cop shoots McElroy and then tells Jerome to run down the alley, which he does.”

  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.”

  “In the meantime, what will you do?” she asked.

  “When you’re outnumbered on the battlefield, and the other side is preparing to come right at you with the thought of overrunning your position and wiping you out, there’s really only two things to do.” He looked at her inquiringly.

  “Okay, one is to retreat,” said Pine.

  “And the other one is to attack. And in this case, my moving forward is the best choice because it would be the last thing they would expect me to do under the circumstances.”

  “But who are you going to attack?” she asked nervously.

  “My chain of command. But not in the way yo
u or they might think.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “No, otherwise I might inadvertently make you an accessory before the fact. And that would be highly inconvenient for both of us. You’re gonna just have to trust me.”

  And on that Puller picked up his pace, and Pine had to hurry to keep up.

  CHAPTER

  25

  SO YOU KNOW TONY WELL?” asked Pine.

  She and Blum were sitting across a café table with a young woman named Lindsey Axilrod. She was in her midthirties, medium height, wiry, and fit, with sandy brown hair and pretty features accentuated with a freckled complexion. Axilrod had been on the list that Puller had given her.

  “Yeah, he’s a nice guy. I like hanging out with him.”

  “And you met him at Fort Dix?”

  “Yes. I’m not in the Army. I’m a civilian, like Tony. I do back-office stuff. I’m in IT, so I basically troubleshoot any technology problems we have.”

  “You will never be without gainful employment then,” noted Blum. “Folks with your knowledge rule the world.”

  Axilrod smiled and folded the paper wrapper she had taken off the straw for her iced tea. “I don’t know about that, but it’s challenging work, which I like. Every day is different, so there’s not much monotony.” She paused and looked up at Pine. “So, why is the FBI interested in Tony?”

  “When was the last time you saw him?”

  “About a week ago. He hasn’t shown up for work lately. Did something happen to him?”

  “He’s actually gone missing,” said Pine.

  “So something has happened to him, then. I thought so.”

  “We’re trying to find him. So whatever you can tell us would be appreciated.”

  “I’m not sure what I know that would be helpful.”

  “You’ve gone out with him?”

  “Yes, both in groups and just the two of us.”

  “Any place you’ve frequented over others?”