Ambush

by Patterson, James

  I said, “You don’t like their tactics?”

  “No. They don’t pay me or recognize my value. Their existence should not affect me one way or the other. But if they try to kill a cop and then the cops crack down on everyone, it hurts my bottom line. My job is to keep things quiet and profitable.”

  “Do you have any information that might help me help you do your job?”

  The regulator chuckled. “I like your view of things. Sergeant Marcia said you were okay. What I’ve heard is that three Dominicans tried to shoot you in front of a church yesterday. You were too fast for them.”

  “Do you know any of the men?”

  He slid a small piece of paper across the table. “I believe these three men were involved. At least two of them are cousins. They’re not the kind of people to take a failure like this well.”

  “I appreciate the information.”

  “Use it well, and maybe we’ll both have an easier time of it. Good luck, Detective Bennett. You’re gonna need it.”

  Chapter 51

  Back at the office, I wasted no time running the names the regulator had given me, not seeking assistance from analysts and other detectives. This was a lead I wanted to follow up quickly, without input from anyone else.

  All three of the men whose names the regulator gave me had a past with narcotics violations. All three had done time at Rikers Island or upstate. Their photos looked familiar, but booking photos are notoriously difficult to match with faces you see on the street. In the photographs, all the men had facial hair. No one who tried to shoot me in front of Holy Name had any facial hair. But that meant little.

  What I found most interesting was that one man, named Julio Laza, had a car registered to him. A one-year-old Chevy Cruze. My guess was that the car was green.

  Usually someone trying to commit a crime like murder or even armed robbery goes to the trouble of stealing a car or using a rental. In this case, it seemed like the suspects were overconfident—thought they could pull off the hit with no issues and save the money they would have spent on a car.

  I considered grabbing someone to come with me as a partner. Then I thought about Antrole and decided that one dead partner was enough. This was something I was going to do on my own.

  When I had a couple of addresses and some information I could use, I scooped everything up and turned from my desk, then almost ran into Harry Grissom.

  My lieutenant said, “What have you got, Mike?”

  “Still trying to put some leads together.”

  “Just don’t do anything stupid by yourself.”

  “I haven’t since I was a teenager and discovered girls.”

  “Very funny. But I’m serious. I don’t want you to get all vigilante on me. You’ve got a job to do. That job should include finding out who killed Antrole. But I don’t want to have this talk with someone else working on your homicide. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Crystal.”

  Thirty seconds later, I was out the door. As the regulator had said, I do what I have to.

  Chapter 52

  Alex Martinez leaned in close over the elegant table next to a window at Central Park’s Tavern on the Green. The colossal windows provided a grand view. Mostly of tourists strolling in the park, but she appreciated that her new police officer friend, Tom McLaughlin, was trying to impress her. He’d used his connections to get them into the very busy tourist spot.

  He dressed well and had impeccable manners. That was hard to find anymore. Especially in New York. He opened doors for her and held her chair. All the things he’d been taught as a child.

  She never would’ve guessed she’d be on two dates in two nights with the same man in New York City. She wasn’t complaining. This was fun. A lot of fun. Tom had proved to be charming as well as attractive and energetic. And he loved the NYPD. He was almost an expert on its history.

  After their salads, Tom pulled out his cell phone and handed it to the young waiter. “Would you mind taking a quick photo of us with the window in the background?”

  Alex thought of all the issues a photograph of her might cause. She scrambled for a quick excuse. Finally she said, “Tom, can we take the photo later? A lady needs to put herself together before she’s photographed.”

  Tom laughed. “Spoken like a true professional photographer.”

  Crisis averted. For now.

  They chatted about horses and a little about their backgrounds. From force of habit in her professional life, Alex didn’t mention that she had two daughters.

  Intrigued by what Alex divulged about her frequent travel, Tom told her about the international reach of the NYPD intelligence office.

  Alex said, “How is that possible if they are New York police officers?”

  “I don’t know the terms, but the city decided they were tired of relying on the feds to give them a heads-up on terror threats. After 9/11, the NYPD started to open offices in countries that were tied to threats. Mainly in Europe. We even have some uniformed officers at the Vatican during special jubilee years. It’s a cool job for a cop.”

  Alex said, “Is that something you want to do someday?”

  “No. If I’m not going to stay in the Mounted Unit, I’d like to go to Homicide. That’s where the sharp detectives are.”

  “I saw an article somewhere about an NYPD homicide detective. I think his name was Michael Bennett. Have you ever heard of him?”

  Tom’s face lit up. “Everyone’s heard of Michael Bennett. He’s hot shit. He used to be on the hostage negotiation team, and he’s the one who solved the case where all the hostages were taken at the First Lady’s funeral.”

  “I remember that. Do you know him personally?”

  Tom shook his head. “I’ve seen him around a couple of times. He’s got a great reputation. And he’s kind of famous for having ten adopted children as well.”

  That was information Alex could use. She smiled and took a sip from her glass of Chardonnay. This was turning out to be a great date.

  Chapter 53

  I struck out at the first couple of addresses for my potential suspects. I decided to call it a day and get home at a reasonable hour, though I wasn’t nearly as tired and sore as I had been. I was finally starting to heal.

  I wasn’t greeted by young children right at the front door. That rarely happened. As I stepped into the entryway that led to the living room, I was surprised by another man in the house. It took me a minute to register his face.

  He smiled, stuck out his hand, and said, “Hello, Mr. Bennett.”

  I stammered, “Carter, how nice to see you. I didn’t know you were coming over.” I could be polite, even to a twenty-six-year-old man dating my eighteen-year-old daughter. I was still surprised to see him in my home.

  Just then, Mary Catherine hustled around the corner and said, “You see we have a guest for dinner tonight. Your grandfather couldn’t make it, and Juliana thought it’d be nice for Carter to meet the family.”

  “Yeah, sure. It’s great.” I tried to put some enthusiasm in my voice but failed.

  The young man melted back into the living room to talk to Trent.

  Mary Catherine stepped into the hallway and gave me a look that simultaneously said, I’m sorry and Don’t say a single mean word to that boy.

  I nodded in acknowledgment. She seemed satisfied and disappeared to supervise the process of setting the table and getting dinner ready.

  Once we’d said grace and everyone had been served, Chrissy, who was sitting next to Carter, looked at him with her innocent eyes and said, “You are old.”

  I coughed up a little water trying to stifle a laugh. Mary Catherine looked horrified, and Juliana spoke up.

  “That’s not very polite, Chrissy.”

  Mary Catherine changed the subject and got Juliana talking about the production.

  She said, “We’re going to have our first media interviews in the next few days. Someone is supposed to come by the set and take some photographs and interview us for an e
ntertainment magazine.”

  Bridget perked up. “Like Entertainment Weekly?”

  “Something like that.”

  Fiona chimed in. “What’s the magazine called?”

  Juliana hesitated, but Carter said, “The Brooklyn Studio Newsletter.”

  Mary Catherine quickly said, “That’s wonderful. It’s so exciting. I could really see things coming together when I visited the set.”

  I listened to the evening unfold. I understood that I had to get used to the idea of the dating world. I mean, I have six daughters, for Christ’s sake. But the idea of this good-looking, midtwenties millennial dating my oldest daughter bothered me.

  It made me think of all the stories I’d heard from other cops who had chased off boyfriends for one reason or another. My favorite was from a sergeant in Queens who answered the door with no shirt on and a badge pinned through his bare chest. That was hard-core. I needed to take another route.

  I said, “Carter, what are your acting goals?”

  All actors, like writers, love to talk about their future. To most of them, that future doesn’t factor in family or romance.

  And off he went. “Oh, I’m moving to Los Angeles after the first season of Century’s End is complete. I’ve spoken to an agent out there about representing me.”

  The look on Juliana’s face told me this was nothing he had discussed with her.

  Chapter 54

  Alex Martinez was worn-out. In a good way. She sprawled in the king-size bed in the tiny lower Manhattan apartment of Officer Tom McLaughlin. Aerobic energy could be as useful in sex as it was on the job. She was still smiling, listening to the gentle snores of her new lover.

  The whole night had been wonderful. Dinner at the Tavern on the Green. The stroll through Central Park, which included a visit to the stables. He was really a special guy.

  But one thing stuck in her head. She had asked about Michael Bennett, which might have been a mistake. It probably wasn’t a big thing to Officer McLaughlin. He had gone on and on about the homicide detective.

  Now she tried to calculate all the ways that might come back to haunt her after Detective Bennett was dead. Would Officer McLaughlin remember the conversation and discuss it with the detectives investigating the murder? If so, did he know anything about her that could be useful? She never did let him have a photograph.

  She rolled it over and over in her brain. The sooner you handle a problem, the better things work out.

  She wondered if Officer Tom McLaughlin could be a loose end. A loose end that could expose her later.

  She rolled over and slipped out of bed silently. She got dressed in the cramped space between the edge of the bed and the wall.

  She looked down at the sleeping form of Officer McLaughlin and reached into her purse for her stiletto. She hit the button, and the blade popped straight out of the handle with just a little mechanical click.

  She ran through her options once again. This man had done nothing wrong and did not deserve to die because of the mistake she made. But she couldn’t risk someone coming to the ranch one day to arrest her and separate her from the girls.

  She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the city in the dark apartment. Sometimes she wished she was someone else.

  Chapter 55

  Alex stood in the dark room with the stiletto in her hand, ready to make a drastic decision. Then she was startled by Tom McLaughlin’s voice.

  “Do you have to go?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “I need to tell you something. Just so I feel good about where we are. And I don’t want you to think I’m keeping any secrets.”

  Alex just stood in the darkened room wondering if she should say something like, It doesn’t matter. Because it wouldn’t in just a few seconds.

  Tom kept talking anyway. “I didn’t tell you that I have a daughter.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t want you to think I was trying to hide something. I also don’t want to freak you out. But I have a three-year-old named Emily.”

  “Are you married?”

  “No. I asked Emily’s mother to marry me when we found out she was pregnant, but she wasn’t interested. Now I have to fight hard to make sure I’m as involved in Emily’s life as I want to be.”

  Alex didn’t know what to say.

  Tom said, “I hope this doesn’t change anything. I had a great time, and I hope we can see each other again.”

  To Alex it did change something. It added something to her careful calculations. Suddenly she thought of a girl, not much younger than Gabriela, calling out for her absent father. Her father, who was a decent, hardworking man and didn’t do anything wrong.

  He sat up in bed and reached for the light on the nightstand.

  Alex quickly dropped the hand with the stiletto into her purse.

  Tom said, “Let me walk outside and get a cab with you.”

  “It’s really not necessary.”

  “I can’t let a defenseless woman stand alone on a street corner in New York.”

  A smile spread across her face. “I guarantee you won’t be letting a defenseless woman stand on the street. Go back to bed. Dream happy dreams.”

  Alex leaned down until she was just a few inches away, the stiletto still in her hand. He looked up at her from the bed, exposing the underside of his jaw.

  She hesitated for a moment, then kissed him on the lips. She didn’t say another word as she slipped out of the apartment.

  Chapter 56

  I was still looking for the men whose names the regulator had given me. I had an address on 129th Street for one of them, Julio Laza, on the second floor of a run-down apartment building.

  As I circled the block to get a feel for the area, I noticed a green Chevy Cruze parked by the side of the building. When I got out and looked the car over, I found a bullet hole just in front of the driver’s-side door. Jackpot.

  Normally I would call in assistance and arrest someone who tried to shoot me. In this instance, I thought it was more important to find out who had hired Julio.

  Not only would finding out who hired him be a bigger coup, I might also find some way to tie the information in with what Brian had told me earlier. Maybe that way, with a better lawyer, we could have his sentence reduced. I saw it happen all the time. That’s why I was willing to take a risk today.

  A few minutes later, as I headed up the raw concrete front steps, I saw someone coming out the sturdy metal door. Immediately I realized it was my man, Julio Laza. He looked up and recognized me, too. Why couldn’t all cases be this easy?

  He wasted no time. Julio leaped off the entryway, jumping down four feet to the spotty grass surrounding the building. He landed on his feet and started to run. And he ran fast.

  I yelled out to him, “I just want to talk.” But he didn’t believe me. Why should he? If I ran into someone I’d tried to shoot, I’d probably flee as well.

  When I was a rookie, I used to chase fleeing suspects on foot all the time. Then a veteran, not much older than I was but with four years on the job, showed me the wonders of patience. He said it was always better to let rookies chase on foot, while he preferred a patrol car.

  I knew how jerks like Julio thought. He was going to run away and come back for his car. Guys like this never wanted to leave their rides.

  I acted like I was chasing him. I even let him look over his shoulder and see me fading in the distance as he turned a corner. Then I casually walked back toward his building and sat down behind a tree not far from his car. The rough bark of the trunk was covered in dozens of carvings. Mostly hearts with names inside.

  I was not disappointed. About five minutes later, I saw Julio Laza jogging casually toward the Chevy.

  I waited until he was in an awkward position. He hadn’t stuck the key into the lock of the door yet. Then I stood up. He didn’t notice me.

  I stepped around the tree. He still didn’t notice me.

  I was starting to get a complex. Final
ly I cleared my throat and said, “I wondered how long it would take you to get back here.”

  It startled Julio so much that he dropped his keys under the car. He stood up, shaky from his run, hair plastered to his forehead.

  He said, “Whatchoo want, man?”

  “Exactly what I told you before you went on this marathon. I just want to talk.”

  He looked around nervously. No one wanted to be seen talking to a cop in this neighborhood.

  I said, “Come take a walk with me. We’ll get out of public view and have a little chat.”

  As he took a few steps with me, I put my arm around his shoulders as if I were comforting a child after he lost a football game.

  Julio said, “What do you want to talk about?”

  I stopped and looked at him. “You’re joking, right?”

  Julio just shrugged and walked along with me.

  Chapter 57

  Instead of taking Julio Laza to a comfortable café or a McDonald’s to sit and chat over a drink, I put him in the passenger seat of my police car.

  He was shaking and sweating as if he were working a coal furnace. We drove to a parking lot several blocks away so no one would notice us. But Julio didn’t care. He figured he was going to jail shortly—if I didn’t shoot him before that.

  Hell, he’s the one who pointed a machine gun at me. And at a priest! When I mentioned that, I thought his eyes would pop out of his head.

  He said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was just business. And I didn’t even realize the other guy was a priest. I never shot at him. I hope my mom doesn’t find out.”

  “Your mom is the least of your concerns. You shot at a New York City detective. And then you were stupid enough to be caught almost right away. Not only are you looking at a shitload of jail time, any kind of street cred you had is ruined.”