Ambush

by Patterson, James

  Unfortunately, my son Brian was one of the kids Stass had corrupted. That’s how it started, anyway. Later he had used terror tactics to keep the kids in line. My son was so scared that he ended up going to prison without revealing any information.

  Now this creep was a link to the person who was after me. Talking to him would also give me an idea who ordered the attack on my son in prison.

  I met a friend of mine, corrections lieutenant Vinnie Mintus, who came with me to a special interview room where Stass was waiting. I had to calm myself down before entering, because the idea of seeing Stass in person made me think about committing a crime of my own.

  When I was ready, I went in and sat down on a hard metal chair at a flat, scarred wooden table and looked across at Albert Stass. He was in his forties, and he really did have a fairly significant scar on his face. Other than that, there was nothing remarkable about the man.

  He looked back at me with flat brown eyes.

  I said, “Do you know who I am?”

  “I know.”

  “You know why I’m here to talk to you?”

  “It doesn’t matter, because I’m not telling you shit.”

  I shrugged and looked over my shoulder at my friend, who worked at Rikers Island every day.

  Lieutenant Mintus said, “You could help yourself out if you talked to us.”

  “I’ve got a lawyer for this case. I got nothing to say to you.”

  Lieutenant Mintus smiled and said, “I’m talking about the potential assault case for the guy you attacked in the cafeteria last week.”

  “You mean the black gangbanger? All I did was shove him.”

  “Shove, tried to choke—who could say?” The lieutenant gave him a grin that even made me nervous. “You know how things work around here. You could be isolated and secured until trial.”

  “That ain’t right, and you know it.”

  I said, “Is it right to lure kids into selling drugs?”

  “Allegedly lure kids into selling drugs.”

  It was my friend the lieutenant who said, “Cut the shit. If you want to avoid some additional charges, just listen to the questions Detective Bennett has for you. You may not even think they’re important.”

  Stass thought about it for a few seconds, then looked at me without much interest and said, “Go ahead.”

  I said, “Who put out the contract on me? And why?”

  “All I have is hearsay. It could never be used in court.”

  “No one will know we ever spoke to you.”

  He waited a bit longer, then finally said, “The mama of that kid you shot in the library. Diego something. She’s the one who pressured the cartel. I heard they even hired some hotshot killer from Bogotá. The killer is supposed to take care of some Canadians and I guess you, too. From what I hear, the killer is really good. You might not live long enough to talk about our conversation.” That made him grin, revealing yellowed, uneven teeth.

  I had a few more questions, but he didn’t know anything that could help me. At least I felt a level of satisfaction for having tied a lot of this case together. Now we had to figure a way to find the woman from Colombia who was committing these murders.

  That was always the toughest job: stopping the killer.

  Chapter 73

  The visit with Albert Stass had shaken me. Over the previous months, I had experienced a number of revenge fantasies about him. That was not the way I was raised or what my upbringing in the Catholic Church had taught me. It wasn’t how I operated as a police officer. But I still fantasized about killing the creep, and that scared me.

  I had to clear my head. Some people might call it centering myself. That meant I needed contact with my family. Some men rushed to alcohol, some men to drugs, but in times of trouble, I needed my family.

  I didn’t hesitate to head south toward Brooklyn. I hadn’t been to the set where Juliana was filming her TV show in several days. Just seeing her would make me feel better.

  As I parked near the nondescript warehouse in Brooklyn Heights, near the East River, the first person I saw was Juliana. She was standing outside the main door using her phone.

  As I walked up, she covered the mouthpiece of the phone and said, “I get lousy service inside. And by coming out here I get a little air and a few minutes away from Carter.”

  I waited a few seconds while she finished her call. She was trying to register for some acting class in Greenwich Village. Then Juliana slipped her phone into her purse and gave me a hug.

  She said, “What brings you down here?”

  I shrugged. “I just needed to see one of my kids. And I was curious about what was going on here on the set.”

  “You were curious how I was handling Carter since he dumped me.”

  “I’m more curious to know if you want me to do something to him.” I gave her a smile to let her know I was kidding.

  Juliana said, “Ugh, Carter. I don’t even want to think about that jerk.”

  I was glad to see that anger had replaced sadness—the natural progression in breakups.

  Just then, the front door opened and Carter popped his head out. He said, “C’mon, Jules, don’t be like that—” Then he saw me and went silent.

  I looked at him and said, “Like what?”

  He didn’t say a word as he slipped back inside.

  Juliana laughed, and it lifted my whole world.

  I turned to her and said, “What are you filming today?”

  “Just some scenes with the star of the show.”

  I liked the way she put air quotes around star. The woman was an older actress whose name I didn’t know.

  Juliana said, “Sometime this week I’m supposed to do three different interviews.”

  “That’s exciting. Maybe I can come and distract you during one of them. It will make you tougher.”

  She laughed and said, “Dad, thanks for worrying about me.”

  “Honestly, I don’t know why I do. You seem to have everything under control.”

  She hugged me.

  I said to her, “I came here for me, not so much for you. You don’t have to thank me.”

  Juliana said, “Then I’ll just tell you that I think you’re a great dad.”

  Chapter 74

  Alex Martinez had a difficult time keeping up with Bennett’s car after he left Rikers Island. Surveillance was difficult, especially with only one person working it. But this was a part of the job she really enjoyed.

  Now she was definitely on her own. She didn’t want to involve anyone else or use any other accomplices. The Dominican gang had illustrated the problems of using local help. She had done it a few times over the years, but never again.

  Alex considered a simple drive-by shooting while conducting the surveillance. Everything would have to fall in place just right, and she’d have to worry about witnesses and security video if she did it that way. It was better to work out a plan and stick to it. That’s what she was good at.

  Her research on the Internet had told her a few things about Bennett the man, including his adoption of ten children. She still didn’t have a photo of any of them.

  She stayed back about six cars as Bennett crossed over the East River by way of the Brooklyn Bridge. A few blocks later, in Brooklyn Heights, she saw the Impala pull into a lot across from a warehouse.

  For a moment, she wondered if everything had lined up just right. When he came through the parking lot she could work it out so her car would not be far from him. But she remembered how quickly he reacted with the Dominican gunmen. They’d tried basically the same thing, and it didn’t work out for them.

  Still, just in case, Alex drew her semiautomatic pistol from her purse and slid it into its normal spot next to the driver’s seat. She kept her right hand wrapped around the grip.

  She rolled down her window so she’d be ready if she got the chance.

  Bennett walked across the street in front of her quickly and was greeted by someone at the front of the building.


  As she drove down the street slowly, Alex saw Bennett speaking with a young woman standing outside the front door. She was tall and pretty with long, dark hair. She gave him a quick hug as soon as she was done on her phone.

  Alex recalled that one of Bennett’s adopted children was named Juliana and was about eighteen years old. It was a pretty good bet that this young woman was Juliana. It looked like the oldest Bennett child had found a job on some kind of TV show.

  Now that Alex had a lead on one of the kids, she could explore it.

  It was sweet to see the father and daughter interact. Bennett was basically a good guy. But her profession didn’t give her the option to ignore contracts just because the targets seemed like good people. Sometimes she had to just do her job.

  Chapter 75

  Alex found a fancy coffee shop with Wi-Fi near Columbus Circle. She could’ve spent more time following Bennett around, but now she knew exactly what she was looking for.

  She had to discourage the young man working the counter, who wandered over to her in an effort to flirt. As soon as he said, “So where are you from?” Alex scared him off with a perfect Colombian glare.

  Alex had walked around to check out the warehouse where she had seen Bennett greet the young woman. A card on one of the doors said that it was a set for a TV show called Century’s End. A quick search on the IMDB database told her that the show was in production and scheduled to be released next year.

  The description said: “A drama set in the late 1990s, revolving around young people making life decisions as a new millennium approaches.”

  Didn’t sound promising from the description, but it might work if the writing and acting were good.

  It listed the director and a producer and six of the series stars. One of the photographs was the girl she had seen—listed as Jules Baez playing the role of Noreen Harwood. She looked up information for Jules Baez on several databases and found very little. It was interesting to note that she had received her Screen Actors Guild card very recently.

  Then she found an early description of Century’s End on a different website, a gossipy industry-insider newsletter. Alex pulled up the newsletter and found a short blurb about the TV show listing the actress hired to play Noreen Harwood as Juliana Bennett.

  Excellent.

  To Alex, finding something like this was nearly as important as the hit itself. Anyone could point a gun, but only a true professional delved deeper and figured out how to complete the hit and live to enjoy the rewards after it was all done.

  On the IMDB database, Jules Baez was listed as “not represented” in the section showing agent and management. That was one weakness all actors had: they lusted for good representation.

  Then she had a great idea.

  Tomorrow could be the turning point on this contract from hell.

  Chapter 76

  I didn’t know if it was the mounting stress of having someone trying to kill me, worrying about Brian in the hospital, or all the other little things a father has to keep track of, but I didn’t feel refreshed when I woke up. I’d tossed and turned all night, and now I really felt it.

  I’d also hit some dead ends in my investigation. We still didn’t have a clear photograph of the killer or anything that might identify her. Roddy Huerta had proved to be a better detective than I had originally thought. He also hadn’t ratted me out to anyone about my using Julio Laza as a snitch before he was killed. That told me something about the man.

  Cassie Max was her usual blur of activity, and I noticed that she sent me an e-mail every night around eleven o’clock, updating me on everything she had done. I was never that organized, even when I was her age.

  I had a little time this morning and wanted to show my family some support. First I was going to go by Holy Name and talk to Sister Agnes about Trent. I thought I might work in a visit to my grandfather as well. If I had time I wanted to shoot down to Brooklyn and visit Juliana again—I knew she was still smarting from the breakup.

  As I walked to my police car in the garage across the street from our apartment, I was paying a lot more attention to cars passing me on the street and other pedestrians. I don’t want to say that I was starting to get paranoid, but I definitely had my reasons.

  I was trying to change up my regular routine in case anyone was watching. I gave Mitch, the homeless man who always sat near the entrance to the garage, two dollars before I went in instead of handing it to him from the window of my car, as I did on most days.

  I engaged the sixty-five-year-old Vietnam veteran in some conversation.

  “Mitch, have you seen anyone unusual hanging out around here?”

  His voice was deep and raspy. “You gotta give me more than that. This is New York. Everyone is unusual.”

  “Any women you don’t usually see?”

  “It’s funny you ask. I see everyone, but only a few people see me. I appreciate that you even bothered to ask me. You always talk to me.”

  I said, “What about it? Have you seen anyone?”

  “Seen anyone do what?”

  I patted him on the shoulder and said, “Keep up the good work.”

  It was time to head over to Holy Name and make sure Trent never had an easy math assignment again. That thought made me chuckle like a villain in a Disney movie.

  Chapter 77

  I entered the Holy Name school through the main door and quickly found Sister Agnes in her office. She was busy grading tests at a comfortable-looking desk while balancing herself on a blue yoga ball.

  The NYPD had tried various chairs and desks in an effort to stop some of the back problems and health issues related to sedentary jobs, but I didn’t care for stand-up desks. Then again, my job involved a lot of activity—maybe too much.

  Sister Agnes was dressed casually by nuns’ standards, in a simple black shirt and skirt. She was a young-looking forty and taught advanced math classes. She also coached the girls’ basketball team.

  She was tougher than any cop I had ever met. Her brown eyes could make you wilt if you were in the wrong. She’d turned that look on me a couple of times over the years, the first time after I suggested a little less homework and a little more recess. More recently, there was a string of three days in a row with a late arrival by our entire family. I thought accepting full responsibility would save me. Instead she set those eyes on me and said, “Now I can tell how much influence Father Seamus has had on your life. We’ll see if we can fix that. Once a student at Holy Name, always a student.”

  Now she glanced up from her tests when I stood in the doorway and simply said, “Ah, Mr. Bennett. I thought my little note on Trent’s algebra test might bring you in quickly for a chat.”

  “You could have just asked me to come in for a parent conference.”

  “Based on the way you sometimes sneak the kids in when they’re tardy, and based on the behavior of your grandfather, I thought it was best to use a little subterfuge. Call it a fun game on my part.”

  I liked her.

  She motioned me to the seat, then twisted on her ball so she was sitting up straight. I could see the muscles in her forearm and wondered how much she could bench-press.

  She said, “I was hoping to talk to you about moving Trent forward quite quickly in some of the math classes. I also was wondering if perhaps we could pair him with Eddie in a special computer class we’re going to put together with Columbia University.”

  I just stared at her as if I didn’t understand. Truthfully, the information and request were a little overwhelming. She wanted my boys to take a class with Columbia students? They were just little boys in my eyes.

  Somehow I managed to mumble, “Yes, of course. Whatever you think is best.” After a moment, it all sank in, and I said, “I don’t think I realized Trent was so good with computers.”

  “Eddie is clearly a whiz with anything related to Windows-based and Linux-based computers. We feel our computer lab is no longer sufficient to support his interests. But it’s Trent’s mat
hematical ability that we think this computer class could really enhance. Often we find that an ability to work with computers is tied directly to mathematical comprehension.”

  “That all sounds great. What can I do to help?”

  “There may be some financial issues and costs, but nothing too extreme. If you need any kind of financial assistance, we feel this is important enough for the Church to provide it.”

  “Thank you. I think I’ll be able to come up with whatever we need. Is there anything else I could do to help?”

  She hesitated. That was unusual for Sister Agnes. Finally she said, “Perhaps it would be best if your grandfather didn’t know exactly what was going on. Sometimes he tends to get overinvolved in your children’s studies. I don’t think he would ever admit that he may not be up-to-date on the latest technology. And I know he’d be afraid we’re pushing the boys too quickly. Sometimes I think he would have each of your children held back just so he could see them every day here at school.”

  I smiled because it was true. I also smiled because apparently Trent wasn’t the only one hiding his abilities.

  Sister Agnes was much more astute and understood the subtleties of family relationships better than I had ever imagined.

  I said, “I’ll talk to Seamus.”

  Chapter 78

  I cut through the tidy courtyard from the school to the church administration building. I was beaming, at least on the inside. What parent doesn’t want to hear that not one but two of his children are gifted? And gifted in an area that’s so difficult?

  Clearly I hadn’t helped the boys with their computer or math skills as they grew up. I could go on about philosophers and their contributions to society, from the Greeks to the formation of the United States, but technology and math were not my strong suits.

  Holy Name had been such a big part of my life that sometimes I took the church and school for granted. Not only were my children going to school here, where we attended services every Sunday, but the church was also essentially harboring my grandfather and giving him a strong purpose late in life. The idea of Seamus living with us as a retired bar owner with no purpose in life was the stuff of nightmares.