“I have a job for you.”
“Go get some other fool to work without payment.”
Leo sighed. He never paid Badrick after he had taken out the police convoy two months earlier.
“Badrick, I told you, the hit was unsuccessful. You never killed that bitch, remember?”
“I can’t take responsibility for bad intel, mon.”
“Did you look for her body?”
A silence followed.
“All right, you know what? When this call is over, send me your bank account details; I will pay you half for the failed job. Does that sound fair?”
“What did you say about a new job?”
Leo smirked confidently. The men he worked with were all big babies.
Throw some milk down their throats when they scream, and all is fine in the world.
“You need to break one of my men out of Attica. I cannot allow his trial to continue; my organization is at risk.”
“Sounds good, mon. One hundred K, not negotiable.”
Leo smiled; it was a good deal. But he wouldn’t pay it—he’d leave that part to Carlos.
“Done. I’m sending you the address of an inside man. You’ll meet with him to get the plan and the prison’s blueprint.”
“And I’m sending you my bank details. I’m not moving an inch before I get a payment notification. Pleasure doing business with you, as always.” Badrick said and hung up.
Leo rolled his eyes and slumped down on his bed. His head had barely hit the pillow when Badrick’s message came through. He did the payment, albeit reluctantly. He wondered whether he was making a mistake by sticking his neck out for Carlos.
“Better the devil you know…” He reminded himself.
Jason listened to the voice recording Beatrice had delivered via the micro SD card. Since receiving it two months earlier, he had carefully listened to it every day like a broken record.
His phone buzzed again. And again, it showed a text message from Beatrice. He angrily threw his phone into the dustbin underneath his desk. He hadn’t read or responded to her messages in two months, but she refused to give up.
He recalled the first time she had called.
“My name is Beatrice Walters. I sent you a memory card. Have you seen its contents?”
“I’ve just seen it.”
“My brother told me to find you if anything happened to him. I want you to help me catch his murderers.”
“Your brother?”
“Walter Sidney.”
Jason sat up straight when he heard Walter’s name and then exhaled. “Look, Miss Walters, or whatever your real name is, I’m…”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Really? Walter Sidney’s sister’s last name just happens to be Walters? I am not stupid and I am not interested in helping anyone who can’t even give me her actual name.”
“I have evidence. That voice recording I sent you is just the beginning.”
“Walter never mentioned he had a sister.” Jason raised his suspicions.
“Urgh! Walter was right about you.”
“Excuse me?”
“He told me you are arrogant, sassy and blunt,” she took a breath, “but he also told me you are the most trustworthy person he knows.”
“I, uh…” Jason didn’t know how to respond. He and Walter didn’t see eye-to-eye. They tolerated each other, at most.
“Will you help me?”
“You should take your evidence to the NYPD, they’ll help you.”
“But he worked with you at the DA’s office. He told you about his suspicions regarding Thomas Patrick, and now he is dead. Do you think it’s one big coincidence?” She scolded.
“I don’t know, but I do know people don’t think straight when they lose a loved one. Trust me, I know. I lost my daughter recently.” Jason closed his eyes when he heard his own words. It all felt so unreal.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.”
Beatrice kept him busy on the phone for over two hours that day, trying to convince him about the evidence she had. Whatever she said, however compelling it sounded, Jason wouldn’t have any of it.
“Yes?” Jason called when he heard two light knocks on the door.
The door opened gracefully and his fragile secretary slipped in through what looked to Jason like a tiny crack; he had never seen her so annoyed—her face was flushed.
“Chief,” she breathed in an unusually high pitch, “There is a woman out there, and she has no manners. She insists on seeing you this instant.”
Jason’s pulse quickened. It could only be Walter’s sister. Her persistence bordered on insanity, he thought and rolled his eyes.
“All right. Please send her in, Amy. Thank you.” His secretary turned around with pursed lips and strode out angrily.
A well-built young woman in an earth-toned dress walked into his office. She was attractive; Jason couldn’t believe she was related to Walter Sidney. His eyes scanned over her strawberry blond hair before he made contact with a pair of big, blue eyes.
Without hesitation, she approached him with an outstretched hand, “Detective Williams, I am Beatrice Walters.” She said too confidently for her barbie-like appearance.
Jason took a hold of her soft hand. He clenched his teeth as a weird sensation creeped up his arm and into his spine. Beautiful women always made him uncomfortable.
“Beatrice,” he said with as much irritation as he could manage. She arched an eyebrow and gave him a sensational smile; as if wallowing in his discomfort.
“I know you’ve probably been too busy to answer my messages,” She said in a sarcastic tone and made herself comfortable on the chair in front of Jason’s desk.
Jason cleared his throat and sat down too.
“No, I’ve been ignoring you. Seems you cannot take a hint.”
“You are exactly as Walter had described you!” She said with excitement, “I mean, it’s like I’ve known you since forever.”
Jason stared at her, unimpressed. He immediately thought about Rachel. If she had been sitting in front of him, he would have looked away already. He looked down and smiled affectionately.
“The NYPD chief is corrupt. We need to do something about him.” She said matter-of-factly.
“What did you just say? Are you out of your mind? That is a serious accusation, miss.”
“You are unbelievable! You heard the guy order your death.” She crossed her arms.
“Inconclusive!” Jason slammed against the desk, “Your so-called evidence,” he made dramatic quotation signs, “can be a set-up. You live in a fairytale land if you think that one recording would be considered in a court of law.”
“Don’t talk to me like that,” she scolded, “I am not dumb, dumbass.” Jason shook his head at her disrespect. If she were his sister, he would rip her head off. He pondered how Walter stayed sane with her around.
“I have proof! Recording upon recording of Thomas Patrick talking with a Leo Martinez.”
Jason sat up straight. Mary had mentioned the same name before her death.
“Where are these recordings? And how did you get them?”
Beatrice rummaged through her oversized handbag and revealed an iPod Nano. She continued her search and excitedly pulled out earphones. She then jumped up and hurried to Jason, bent over and inserted one piece into his ear and the other into her own ear. Jason clenched his teeth and looked the other way.
She pressed the play button.
CHAPTER THREE
Carlos scanned the mess hall, barely touching his food. He hadn’t heard from Leo in over a week. It made him apprehensive. Leo could have changed his mind and hired inmates to murder him instead. If one of his own boys had put him in the same position, that’s exactly what he would do… He avoided secluded places and stayed within his new pack of inmates. They respected him immensely and would give their lives for him.
“Rodriguez?!”
Carlos’ eyes shot up at an inmat
e sitting opposite him. The inmate gestured with his head to somewhere behind Carlos. He turned around calmly and saw a guard looking around. It was a good sign. He raised his hand.
The officer approached and put his hand around Carlos’ arm, “You have a call.” Carlos stood up and let the officer lead him to an office.
The officer sat him down and walked to the door, “It’s not recording; you have twenty minutes,” he warned and closed the door behind him.
“Leo?” Carlos muttered into the receiver.
“Mister Martinez sends his regards,” a loud Jamaican accent bellowed.
Carlos breathed uneasily. He wondered if it was the end of the road for him.
“My name is Badrick, mon. I heard you called a taxi.”
Carlos smiled with relief. He sat up straight as the weight lifted off his shoulders. “Indeed.”
Jason sat perplexed.
Each of the recordings Beatrice had played revealed Thomas Patrick’s voice in alarming conversations with a Leo Martinez. He was especially infuriated when he heard how Thomas had given away the decoy he and Walter had arranged for Mary’s transfer to the safe house two months earlier.
He thundered against his desk and plucked the earpiece out. Beatrice jolted slightly and stood back. She eyed him cautiously. Walter told her that Jason had a short fuse.
“Sorry.” He mumbled as he realized she was staring at him.
“No problem.” She said politely and went to sit opposite him again.
He thought about how Thomas had shed a tear at the honorary funeral service of his team members. He had stood there, looking genuinely concerned for their family members. He even approached sergeant Bernard’s wife, telling her he would help if she needed anything. She stood in front of him with questioning, wide eyes. A three-month-old baby slept peacefully in her arms—blissfully unaware that she would never know her father.
The same Thomas had comforted him when his wife died. He encouraged him to get back on his feet, reminded him he still had someone to live for… He closed his eyes as indescribable emotions gripped every fiber in his body.
If Thomas ordered the hit on his team, he was surely involved with Mary’s death. For the first time, Jason believed that it was Thomas who had ordered the hit on his own life.
Suddenly, Catherine flooded his mind. Was Thomas involved with her death, too?
“Where did you get these recordings?”
“Oh, um…” Beatrice tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “Are you OK?” She asked softly.
“Answer my question.” Jason snapped.
“Right.” She sighed, “From Walter’s laptop. He told me where to find it if anything ever happened to him.” Her eyes fell to the floor.
“I am sorry about your brother.”
“Thank you. Anyway, he uh—also told me to find you because you are trustworthy. So, here I am.” She smiled slightly, her eyes full of concern.
Jason hated it when people looked at him with pity. He knew they meant well, but he’d rather they act normally and spare everyone the awkwardness.
“Do you know where his phone is?” He asked sternly.
“No,” she shrugged apologetically, “the police said it was evidence.”
“I assume that’s all you have for me, then?” Jason pressed against his chair’s armrests and groaned as he lifted himself with more effort than he would have liked.
“That’s all for now, Detective.” Beatrice stood up too and smiled with an outstretched hand, “But I’ll be in touch as soon as I have more.”
Jason lifted an eyebrow at her confidence and took her hand for a quick shake, “Right… Bye.”
“Beatrice!” Jason called as she was about to close the door behind her.
She swung it open with hopeful eyes and a stunning smile, “Yes, Detective?” She said in an expectant tone.
Jason frowned and cleared his throat, “Did your brother mention anything about this Leo Martinez? Was there anything on his laptop about him?”
Her face fell, “Oh, yes.” She entered the office and walked closer, her face full of disappointment, “He suspected Leo is some underground big shot pulling a lot of strings, and that he might be involved with an organization called The Syndicate.” She lit up again, “Serious conspiracy theory stuff! But Walter had nothing concrete. Whoever he is, he leaves no traces.”
“Mm…” Jason slid a hand through his hair, “They all make mistakes, eventually.”
“I thought we are going to break you out, not arrange a suicide mission.” Badrick protested, “I told you, we need to do it with stealth, mon.”
“Are you being a coward?”
Badrick burst out in laughter, “No, I am concerned about getting my money. You’ll be no use to me dead.”
“It will work.” Carlos insisted.
“That prison has a tear gas system. If the guards get suspicious, they will activate it and you can forget about ever getting out of there. We have only one shot.”
“Let them activate it then! It’s only in the mess hall and the industry area, idiot.” Carlos said impatiently.
When a silence followed, Carlos added, “I’m willing to pay double what you asked for. But then we do this my way.”
Carlos knew that he could sway any person with the right amount. And he would gladly pay almost anything to get out of there. He could always make more money on the outside.
“You have yourself a deal, mon.” Badrick said in an elated tone.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Excuse me, Detective, you can’t…”
“I’ll just be a minute.” Jason waved off the secretary and barged through the door.
Tate Mike’s eyes shot up; he peered at Jason over a thick, black frame resting at the tip of his long nose. The glasses looked awfully large compared to his skinny face.
“Sir, I have information about Carlos Rodrigues’ associates.”
Tate seemed amused and shook his head with a smile, “Do you believe this guy?” He looked to the man sitting on a chair in the corner of his office and pointed to Jason, “Was he so tactless at the NYPD too?”
Jason froze.
“You have no idea.”
Thomas stood up and lightly tucked the ends of his jacket. Jason’s eyes fell to his cadaverous hands and immediately clenched his jaw. He thought about pinning the traitorous bastard to the floor as he approached him with a brilliantly deceitful smile.
“Jason,” He rested a hand on Jason’s shoulder, “How are you, son? You look much better than the last time I saw you.”
“Chief.” Jason said in a menacing tone and grimaced.
Thomas frowned, “Is there something on my face?”
It relieved Jason when he removed his filthy hand from his shoulder.
“No, sorry sir,” he composed himself, “I was just so focused on what I was about to tell Mister Mike, here. I am doing much better; thank you for your concern, Chief.” He forced a smile.
“Mister Tate, please accept my apology for barging in like this. I really should work on my… tact.” He took a breath, “I’ll wait until you’re done to give you this report.”
Jason nodded at Thomas and headed for the door.
“Not at all, you can give it to me now. Seems quite important.”
Jason turned around and eyed Thomas, “I don’t…”
“We’re all law enforcement, what’s the matter?” Tate said in a stern voice. He and Thomas started chuckling at Jason’s serious demeanor.
“Loosen up, Detective. Let us hear the report.” Tate gestured to the chair in front of his painfully tidy desk.
Jason approached the chair as slowly as he could. He would have to be careful about implicating Thomas for the moment. He sat down and clung to the file on his lap. He waited for Thomas to take his seat in the corner.
“As you know, the lead prosecutor on the Carlos Rodrigues and Mary Scott cases was murdered two months ago.”
“Yes, Walter Sidney. Sharp man, it’s a terrible loss
for law enforcement.” Tate added.
“Yes, sir.” Jason glanced at Thomas, who nodded with a serious face, “But a reliable source surfaced with concrete information about Walter’s murderer.”
“But we’ve interviewed every witness,” Thomas voiced his concern, “None of them could give us as much as a clue. Where does your supposed reliable source come from?”
“Are you OK, Chief? Why the sudden pale face and sweat on your forehead?” Jason challenged.
Tate eyed Thompson, “What information?” He asked. Thomas looked at Tate with a dubious expression. Tate ignored him.
“There’s a powerful figure in the underworld who was present when Walter was shot. His name is Leo Martinez. There are voice recordings.”
Tate stroked his chin, “Never heard of him. How powerful can he be?”
Thomas sat frozen like a statue.
“He covers his tracks well, sir. I have a CI who knew Thompson Federico well. When I asked if they knew about this Leo, I found out that Thompson was negotiating to become his NY drug distributer via a common acquaintance before his death.”
“Who was the acquaintance?”
“Carlos Rodrigues.”
“Carlos never mentioned a Leo during his preliminary trial.”
“And he never will, sir. He is either too loyal or too scared to do it. But my ex-partner knew about Carlos’ connection with Leo. She mentioned his name before she mysteriously died.”
“Mysteriously? Do you suspect foul play?”
“I do, sir. I lost my entire team who acted as a decoy when we moved Mary to a safe house two months ago. I believe Leo was responsible for the attack. And for Mary’s ultimate demise.”
“Interesting…” Tate said, still stroking his chin.
“Who is your CI?” Thomas came back to life.
“Chief?”
“Your CI, the one who knew Federico, who is he?”
“It’s not relevant.” Jason said sharply, “And you know very well that I am under no obligation to disclose such information.” Thomas and Jason shared an awkward but deadly stare.
“Watch your tone, Williams!” Tate scolded, “And he’s right, Thomas. You know better than to ask such questions. Jason, do you have proof that Mary was murdered?”
Stormy Inferno (Thriller Stories To Keep You up all Night) (In The Line of Fire Book 3) Page 2