The Fallen

by David Baldacci

  Chapter 64

  SO WHAT’S UP, Decker?”

  Decker was sitting across from Agent Kemper at the Mercury Bar. Cindi Riley was not working tonight. She might be at the jail with Baron, Decker thought.

  Kemper’s hair was clipped with a barrette. Her sidearm was on a belt holster and her badge was pinned to her belt.

  “Just wanted to check in on a few things.”

  “Has everyone recovered from the gas attack?”

  “News travels fast, I take it?”

  “Lassiter phoned me.”

  “She put a patrol out front.”

  “Glad to hear that. I take it someone thinks you’re getting too close to things. Like when they tried to blow you and Jamison up in that trailer.”

  “Seems so.”

  “So, are you getting there? Because I see my case slipping away from me by the minute. I don’t know how much longer I can sit on this.”

  “I talked to the hospital where Fred Ross was taken on the day I found the bodies. He called 911 complaining of chest pains.”

  “Okay.”

  “The hospital checked him out and found absolutely nothing wrong. They released him the next day.”

  “Why the interest in Fred Ross?”

  “Because the bodies of your two agents were kept on ice before they were transported to the empty house. I think they were taken there in Ross’s van. Which means they were probably kept in a freezer shortly before then. And since Fred Ross lived on the street he might have been nervous about us thinking he knew something, or had seen something that night. His being in the emergency room at the time would provide him both an ironclad alibi and preclude us from asking him for details about that night.”

  “How do you know they were taken there in his van?”

  “I heard a vehicle start up after I saw the lights in the house flickering, which means they had already placed the bodies and poured the blood, which eventually caused the flickering. They must have gone to the house with the bodies before I went out on the deck. And the only car on the street that night was Ross’s.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “Yeah, I can. It’s a dead-end street. While I wouldn’t have seen the car, I would’ve seen the car lights if it had gotten to the stop sign at the end of the street. That means the vehicle didn’t leave the street. It dropped off the bodies and then it was driven back to Ross’s house, and the people who dumped the bodies probably left from there on foot.”

  “An old guy in a wheelchair is in the middle of this?”

  “I think he is, because his son is.”

  “Okay. I guess I can see that, but looping your octogenarian father into a major drug operation can seem pretty unbelievable.”

  “Well, it’s about to get more unbelievable, because Alice Martin, the former Sunday school teacher, is involved too.”

  “What! How do you figure that?”

  “Her damaged walking cane was the sound I heard that night. She was out there, probably checking on the transfer. And she told me she despises Fred Ross, but his phone number is up on her wall along with all her other frequently called numbers. But there’s something else.”

  “What?”

  “She was the one who told me that she had seen two men fitting the descriptions of Beatty and Smith enter the house next to where their bodies were found.”

  “So?”

  “So now we know those houses were used as pill press operations. Your guys would not have been going in there, which means Martin was lying.”

  “But if they were undercover they might have.”

  “Martin told me she had seen them go in there a couple of weeks before. If they had been in there as undercover agents, they would have reported the pill press operations to their agency contact.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Martin had to know that I would probably go check that out right after she told me. And I did. Now, why do I think a review of her phone records would show that she immediately phoned Fred Ross or somebody else? And the next thing you know, Brian Collins shows up pretending to be a cop next door and tries to kill me. See, I don’t think he was watching the place. Why would he be? There was nothing left there; they’d already cleared out. I think he was called there to kill me, because Martin had basically told me a lie to get me to investigate the place. This was all a setup. And it was prearranged to be initiated if I came to question Martin and seemed to be getting too close.”

  Kemper looked thoughtful for a few moments, then said, “We obviously know about Ted Ross and the drug ring. But is there something else?”

  “I think there’re a lot of things, and not all of them are drug-related. So maybe they’re of no interest to you.”

  She smiled. “Before I joined the DEA, I had an ambition to become an FBI agent. It was a last-minute change in my career path.”

  “Why?”

  “On a stupid bet my best friend in the world took a PCP cocktail and it fried her brain. I remember visiting her in the hospital, staring down at a beautiful young woman who no longer had a mind. And from that moment forward, my whole life was going to be about taking down the monsters who sell that poison.”

  “I can see how that would alter your career path,” said Decker.

  She leaned forward. “But my interest extends to taking down all bad guys.”

  “Glad to hear that.”

  She dropped her voice. “As an add-on to what we discussed before, we strongly suspect the presence of a major pill press operation in western Pennsylvania. That’s why a big-time operator like Brian Collins would be here too. If he was involved, you can take it to the bank that some heavyweights have descended on Baronville.”

  “And now we know that Ted Ross is supplying them with all the fentanyl they need.”

  Kemper straightened. “That’s right. But you already know all this. So why did you want to meet?”

  In answer, Decker slipped his badge off his belt and laid it on the table.

  She stared down at it before glancing back at him with a perplexed look.

  “What does your badge have to do with it?”

  “Not my badge,” replied Decker.

  “Then whose?”

  “You’ll see. But I need your help to get there.”

  Chapter 65

  HE DIDN’T SHOW up this morning. I called his home but no one answered. I drove over there but his car was gone. I peeked in the window, but it was all dark. And a neighbor told me she saw Mr. Norris leaving in the middle of the night with a bunch of luggage. But he never told me he was going anywhere. I’m not sure what to do.”

  This had all come tumbling out of Jenny, Willie Norris’s assistant, as Decker and Jamison stood across from her in the front room of the man’s insurance office.

  “He had appointments this morning and he missed them all,” she added. “Do you think he’s all right?”

  “I seriously doubt it,” said Decker. He looked around. “And if I were you, I’d think about looking for another job.”

  Her face crumpled. “Hell, I had a hard enough time getting this one.”

  “And maybe hire a good lawyer,” added Decker.

  “What!? Why?”

  “Because you just never know.”

  He and Jamison walked out and Decker phoned Kemper.

  “We got a runner,” he said, filling her in. “I know this isn’t exactly your jurisdiction, but for all I know Norris is connected to all the other crap going down in this town. And you might want to have some people start digging through his business records.”

  “On it.”

  “And the other thing?” he asked.

  “Nearly done.” She clicked off.

  Decker put his phone away.

  “What other thing?” Jamison asked.

  “Something I tasked Kemper with. I’ll fill you in later.”

  “You think that asshole was part of the gas sabotage at my sister’s that nearly killed us?”

  “I would be
stunned if he wasn’t. It happened pretty quickly after we spooked him. And now he’s on the run.”

  “So what did he get out of all this?”

  “Money. His normal commission plus something on the back end. But we can find out for sure.”

  “How?”

  He glanced at her. “You up for another carrot cake muffin?”

  * * *

  Linda Drews called out to them as they walked into her café.

  “Couldn’t stay away, could you?” she said, smiling.

  “No, we couldn’t,” replied Decker. “We’ll take two more of the carrot cake muffins and some coffee.”

  “To go or you eating in?”

  “Better make it to go. And before you handle any hot coffee, can I ask you some questions?”

  She smiled, though her look was perplexed. “Sure.”

  Her smile vanished when Decker showed her his cred pack.

  “FBI? Am I in trouble?”

  “That depends. We met with Mr. Norris. He wasn’t very forthcoming. I’m hoping you’ll be better at that.”

  Drews put a hand on the counter to support herself.

  Decker leaned against the wall. “Your son never should have been able to get that life insurance policy; do you know that?”

  Drews lips started to tremble. “Guess I do now, mister.”

  “But Norris made it happen?” said Jamison.

  “It was his idea. I guess I should’ve told you before, but I didn’t know you were with the FBI. He came to me after Keith injured his back. I’ve known Willie a long time. Got my car insurance through him. And my house insurance, when I had a house. He said in crazy times like these, it’d be a good idea. I wanted to get me a policy too and have Keith the beneficiary, but Willie said with all the drugs I’d done they’d never approve me.”

  “I think that was a good thing for you,” said Decker ominously. “So, Norris filled out all the paperwork?”

  “Yeah, and he had a local paramedic do the medical exam.”

  “A paramedic?”

  “Yeah, they can do the exams, Willie said. He said the insurance companies contract out with them, and also with a local lab to do the blood work and such.”

  “So all local players. Interesting. Did Keith tell the paramedic about being injured and being on painkillers?”

  “I don’t know, ’cause I wasn’t there.”

  “Did Keith mention anything to you later?” asked Decker.

  “Do I need a lawyer, mister?”

  “That might depend on your answers.”

  “Look, Keith wasn’t really on them painkillers no more. And his back was a lot better when he got that policy.”

  “But a million bucks in life insurance? That’s a lot. He wasn’t even employed.”

  “Willie said Keith was so young that that would help. He wouldn’t die for a long time.”

  “Uh-huh, well that turned out to be wrong. How was he going to pay the premiums? Even if they weren’t that much, your son had no income.”

  “I was gonna help him, well, if I could. And…and Willie too.”

  “So Norris was giving Keith money to make the payments on the insurance policy that Norris sold him?”

  She nodded, her skin as pale as the napkin she was holding.

  “Did you know that was illegal?” said Decker.

  She shook her head. “No sir. I just thought Willie was being a good friend.”

  “And then Keith got hooked on opiates and died?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But you said he was off the painkillers,” Decker said in a dubious tone.

  “Well, he was mostly off ’em.”

  “You said he overdosed because he mistook fentanyl for heroin?” asked Jamison.

  “That’s right.”

  “And where did this happen?” asked Decker.

  “At a friend’s house.”

  “And the friend wasn’t there to give him Narcan?” said Decker.

  “No, he was alone. I didn’t find out till later. Cried my eyes out.”

  “Did the insurance company investigate the death?”

  “Yeah, they did. But Willie was on top of that too. He told me he wasn’t gonna let them cheat me outta my money. And he came through all right. They paid out a few months later.”

  “And then you got the million dollars?” said Decker.

  Drews didn’t answer right away. “Yeah, that’s right.”

  “No, that’s not right.”

  “What?”

  “You didn’t get the full million. How much did Norris get?”

  “Well, um, he got his commission.”

  “Which was how much?”

  “Thirty percent.”

  “So he got three hundred thousand dollars?”

  “Yes sir, that’s what Willie said was standard with life insurance.”

  “And how was it paid?”

  “Willie took care of that. He just made sure my money got to my account.”

  “I’m sure he did.” Decker paused. “Ms. Drews, did you ever think it was strange that soon after your son took out a million-dollar life insurance policy, which was Norris’s idea, he overdosed and Norris got three hundred grand?”

  Drews’s lips started to tremble and the tears began to slide down her cheeks. “Mister, are you telling me that…”

  “Yeah, I am,” said Decker. “They set your son up. They got a big policy on him and then rigged it so he overdosed and died.”

  Drews put a shaky hand to her face and sobbed. “I never wanted my son to die, so help me God.”

  “But the fact is, he did die.”

  “And…and you really think Willie had something to do with that?”

  “I don’t think it, I know he did.”

  “Am I in trouble, mister?” she asked again.

  “I’d get that lawyer if I were you. And forget about the coffee and muffins. I just lost my appetite.”

  Decker and Jamison walked out.

  Back in their truck, Jamison said, “God, I can’t believe that. She had to know what was going on.”

  “Maybe she did and maybe she didn’t. If I’ve learned one thing in this business, it’s that people can justify anything they want to.”

  “So, insurance scams, drug dealers, and framing someone for a treasure. Who would have thought one town could have so much crap going on separately?”

  Decker put the truck in gear.

  “Only it’s not really separate, Alex. It’s all tied together with a not-so-neat little bow.”

  Chapter 66

  A PHONE CALL a while later brought Decker and Jamison to the Baronville police headquarters. They were met at the front door by a solemn Kate Kemper and three of her agents.

  When Decker and Jamison walked into the room where the homicide detectives worked, Lassiter was standing next to her desk. She looked up in surprise.

  “Hey, what are you guys doing here? I—”

  She abruptly stopped when she saw Kemper and her agents file into the room behind them.

  Decker said to Lassiter, “Can you have your partner join us?”

  “Marty? I think he’s around here. I’ll text him.”

  She did so, and about a minute later Detective Green came into the room.

  “Hey,” he said to Decker and Jamison.

  Decker nodded.

  Green glanced at Kemper before fixing his gaze on Lassiter. “Did you need me?”

  Lassiter pointed to Decker. “No, but he wanted to see you for something.” She paused. “You okay, Marty? You look out of sorts.”

  “Lose something maybe?” asked Decker.

  Green looked sheepish as he sat down behind his desk. “My damn badge. I usually put it in my locker at the gym, but I can’t find it. I play racquetball next door. It’s pissing me off. You lose your badge, that’s a ton of paperwork.”

  He started searching through one of his drawers.

  “One question,” said Decker. “The night Dan Bond was killed, someone sai
d they saw a squad car parked in front of his house.”

  “Who said that?” Green asked, quickly looking up.

  “It was an anonymous tip,” interjected Kemper.

  “Any idea who it could have been?” asked Green.

  “Well, you’ve been on that street a lot,” said Decker. “Could it have been you there that night?”

  Green quickly shook his head. “I don’t drive around in a squad car.”

  Decker nodded. “But you have met Dan Bond before, right?”

  Green shook his head. “No. I’ve never been to the man’s house. At least not while he was alive. I did go there after he was found murdered.”

  “You absolutely sure of that?” said Decker.

  Green looked at him curiously. “Yeah, why?”

  “What are you getting at, Decker?” interjected Lassiter. “I was the one who interviewed Dan Bond, not Marty.”

  Decker kept his gaze on Green. He said, “You can stop looking, because Agent Kemper has your badge.”

  Green shot Kemper a surprised glance. “You? Why?”

  Kemper pulled out a plastic evidence bag from her coat. There was a badge inside it.

  The blood slowly drained from Green’s face. “What is my badge doing in an evidence bag?”

  “Because it’s evidence,” said Kemper flatly. “In a murder investigation.”

  “What are you talking about? What murder?”

  “Dan Bond.”

  “I told you, I never even met the man.”

  Decker said, “Which raises the question of why Dan Bond’s fingerprints were found on your badge.”

  “What!?”

  Decker took out his own badge. “Dan Bond was a careful man. I knocked on his door after dark, and he wouldn’t let me in until I put my badge through his cat door. He told me he didn’t like to let strangers inside his house. He used his fingers to make sure the badge was legit before he let me in. And, really, who else besides a cop would he let in at that hour of the night?” He held up the badge. “So that was how his prints got on my badge. But you just said you never met him, and yet his prints are on your badge. So how do you explain that, Detective Green, unless you were the one who visited Bond that night and killed him?”

  “That’s bullcrap!”

  Green looked at Lassiter, who was staring at him openmouthed. “Those can’t be his prints on my badge. It’s impossible.”