Al Simmons reviewed everything that was going on in the hospital and the case. Cronin had Gina send him an email for him to find out if there was anything he needed to know. Madison thought about telling Simmons about having Gates make a couple calls and going to the hospital to speak with Rachelle, but Simmons was shaking his head sideways as if he was hoping she would not. She thought about the exact words he asked her because she did not want to lie to him. His question was, “Is there anything I need to know about this?” She decided that there wasn't anything he needed to know as of now, so she simply said no. Simmons started nodding his head up and down as if to say he agreed with her answer.
“Has the doctor helped with your nightmares?” the attorney asked.
“A little,” she replied. “He told me it will take a while, but I'm not going anywhere.” She had a smile on her face, which Simmons was happy to see when she cracked the joke.
“Are they the same?” he asked. “The nightmares?”
“Pretty much,” she answered. “The Ghost Face mask finds me in different locations, stabs me, then pulls off the mask, and it's me. It's frightening.” Her attorney put his hand on hers.
“Someone is killing with the mask, but this time they're leaving it behind as a calling card. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?”
Madison looked at Simmons. “I'm in here. I can't get out. It's not me.”
“OK,” he said, “we can talk again later in the week.” He was concerned she did not answer the question directly. Their conversation turned to the condition of Powers and Johnson at Stony Brook. It was felt that Powers would be up and around within twelve days, while everyone had Bud in their thoughts. The forty minutes was stretched to forty-five by the time Janet Gates opened the door to lead Madison back to her cell. Madison hugged Simmons good-bye and then Janet led Madison back to her private cell. When Madison got back in her cell she asked Janet to talk to her inside her area, out of view of the camera. The correction officer knew what it was about, so she complied. Janet Gates sat down so Madison would sit. With Gates height at 5'4” Madison towered over her when they were standing.
“How did it go with my sister?” she asked Janet.
“She's OK, Madison. She is emotionally stressed out over her worries about you, Paul, and Bud, and I get the feeling there is insecurity setting in over the relationship.”
Madison seemed puzzled as Janet continued. “The shooting at the mall was traumatizing for her, yet she is the one trying to be a source of support for everyone. I'm concerned about her. Don't forget she will be missing work for a few days, if not more.”
Madison Robinson stared at Janet Gates as the officer continued to explain to her about Rachelle. They talked for over an hour about everyone. In between even a few jokes were cracked, and Madison thought Janet had the most attractive laugh. The smile on her face disappeared as she looked at Janet totally differently, as their eyes focused on each other.
The correctional officer knew she was getting in over her head emotionally with Madison but couldn't help herself.
“I better get back to my post,” Janet said.
She got up to leave and didn't see the disappointment on Madison's face.
When she got back to her desk, she covered her face with her hands and spoke to herself. “Oh my God, what am I doing?” Her breathing got heavier as she spoke to herself again. “Get control.” She knew she had already crossed the line in her job with Madison, but she felt an overwhelming urge to help her even if she wasn't sure why.
Detective Lieutenant Cronin knew once he set foot in the hospital he would officially be alive. Rumors of his sighting were already taking effect. Suspicions rose even more once the escorts were assigned to Rachelle, Deborah, and Lindsey Wilkerson.
As Cronin and Lynagh stepped off the elevator on the eighteenth floor, heads started to turn. Police officers were not even sure how to react. It was so awkward that Cronin actually thought it was amusing. He went to Bud's room and saw Deborah Lance curled up on the chair trying to get some shut-eye. The officer standing guard at his room didn't know how to acknowledge the detective lieutenant so he decided not to say anything. Cronin stood outside the window looking at Bud Johnson lying with all the tubes inserted in his body. Deborah opened her eyes and glanced up to see the man she thought was dead. She tried to fix her hair but gave up since she figured she didn't have any makeup on anyway. She didn't bother to put on her shoes and came out into the hallway with bare feet. Cronin looked over at Lynagh and nodded toward the officer at the door.
Lynagh put his hand on Officer Phelan's arm. “Let's go get a cup of coffee.” Deborah was already standing there with her arms folded, waiting for an explanation of why he was standing there alive. Cronin turned his head to look at Bud lying there, and then turned back toward Deborah, who was still waiting for him to speak.
“You must be confused by this, but you will understand soon enough.” He looked back at Bud and added the word “unfortunately” to the end of his sentence.
“There was a bounty on you, Rachelle, and the Wilkerson girl. It was set up by Robert Simpson to get revenge on me for what happened during the Face of Fear investigation. Once I was pronounced dead there was no need for Simpson to spend the extra money. He wanted you for himself or he would have taken care of you. FBI Agent Sherman allowed him to do it as a distraction and an alibi for an insurance scam he had going on.”
Deborah did not say a word, but he could see the anger in her eyes as he spoke again. “The only way to resolve this was to have the freedom to go where I needed to go and keep you safe while they thought I was dead.”
Deborah just nodded her head as she backed away from him to go back in the room. Her face had disgust all over it as Cronin spoke before she entered the room.
“Nothing to say?”
Deborah stopped and turned back toward Cronin with her arms still folded and finally spoke. “What about Bud? He thought he lost you. Did he know about this? I know the answer. It's no. Why do I know? Because I know this man, his heart, he would give up his life to bring your killers to justice. His whole way of thinking and his actions are based on his heart, whether it's right or wrong. He should have known.”
She started to walk away again as Cronin spoke.
“You will understand why he didn't know. The last case, both Powers and Johnson were so conflicted over you and Rachelle, I had to take the lead. This case is a direct link, and I was not going to have the conflict again. This case will be closed soon, and as for Bud it may have been me on his mind, but it's you that controls his heart. We have him on tape at the club telling Branca to put all the bounties on him to be the target. He wanted all of us safe, but it's you that dictates his heart.”
She looked back at Bud and wiped the tears from her face as Cronin spoke again.
“Now I need you to continue to support him emotionally and make him stronger so we don't lose him.”
She nodded as she went back to the room. She turned around and saw that Officer Phelan and Lynagh came back to Cronin. They spoke for a few seconds as she saw the detective pointing at Phelan before walking away with Lynagh. Her thoughts were simply, You’re a mysterious man, Kevin Cronin. She turned around and looked at Bud and bent over to kiss his forehead.
Paul Powers was talking to the doctor when Detective Cronin walked into his room. Rachelle was standing on the other side of the bed and grabbed ahold of Paul as soon as she saw it was either Detective Cronin or his ghost. Paul was dumbfounded as it became awkward with the doctor standing by the bedside.
“Well,” Doctor Ng spoke, “I will be back in a couple hours to discuss your rehabilitation when you are out of here. I'll be sending you to St. James Medical Center. I know the director there very well. You're in great shape, but you should have therapy and limited walking for at least another two weeks.”
Doctor Ng was an Asian American do
ctor from Hong Kong who studied at Stony Brook and ended up being one of the doctors on staff. He left the room as Lynagh poked his head in to acknowledge Paul. The injured detective nodded to him with a half smile before turning his attention to Detective Lieutenant Cronin. His boss gave him the same details he gave to Deborah, except he added one more thing.
“Paul, the work you did on this case as lead is outstanding. I'm beyond proud of you. Especially the work with the charts between the two cases.”
Powers looked at Rachelle as he tightened his grasp on her before he spoke.
“There was no other way, I suppose, but I don't agree keeping it away from Bud and myself. Ashley knew and yet we didn't.”
Cronin respected Paul's feelings but he was clear in his reply.
“I needed the freedom to roam as I saw fit. It was approved by the DA's office and the commissioner. As for you and Bud, you didn't need this on your plate. I didn't want what I was doing interfering with your decisions. With me dead and the bounty off the girls, it served a couple of purposes. With a dirty cop in the squad it could have been much worse.” He looked at Rachelle and he could see the anger in her eyes. “I'm a real hit with the ladies today.”
Paul looked at Rachelle and she could tell he wanted a few minutes alone with Cronin. She got up without saying a word to Cronin and joined Lynagh in the hallway.
“Good thing,” Paul said, “you missed Lindsey. She would have had a few things to say as well.” Cronin ignored the comment and spoke to Paul in detail about his chart. He told him about Sherman and the insurance premiums fraud and how it was all set up with the murders allowing Simpson his revenge on Priority 1 and giving Sherman the distraction he needed.
Paul nodded as he spoke.
“Am I still the lead on this case?”
“Yes,” Cronin replied. “It was your charts that made the connection to Sherman. It is likely that Tangretti and Branca are out of the state. I put holds on their passports, so unless they paid big bucks, they're in the country somewhere. There is one more thing. Someone is still killing with the Ghost Face mask, and we know it's not Madison Robinson. They are using a gun as well as a knife and have no problem leaving the mask as a calling card.”
There was no reaction from Paul, which bothered Cronin as he spoke again.
“Make no mistake, if it's someone from my team, I will take them down.”
Paul answered with a firm voice. “I don't know who it is, but aren't you the kettle calling the pot black? There are rules for all of us except for you.”
Cronin started to walk away but turned back.
“You may not like my style, Paul, and I know it seems I'm on the edge, but make no mistake, the law will be followed. You are the lead, but right now I'm more concerned about Bud. With Branca and Tangretti gone with the money, it will be an FBI case. Besides, we put an agent behind bars, and now with O'Malley killing the other, we are not exactly on everyone's favorite hits list. Hurry up and get out of here. My old cell number is back on.”
He got to the door when Paul called to him,
“Boss.” Cronin turned around as Paul said, “I may regret saying this, but I'm glad you're back.”
Cronin nodded as he entered the hallway where Rachelle and Lynagh were talking. Rachelle walked back into Paul's room, again without saying anything to Cronin.
“You're a popular guy,” Lynagh said with a smile. It quickly disappeared as the detective lieutenant stared at him.
“Sorry, Boss,” Lynagh said as they walked to the elevator. “Just bring me to Wyatt and Baker's rooms, please.” Cronin said.
They drove back to the precinct as Cronin rearranged some of the things that Paul had done while he was “dead.” He asked Gina to give him a list of all the officers borrowed from the Fourth Precinct that were now escorting Deborah Lance, Rachelle Robinson, Lindsey Wilkerson, Chapman, Healey, Baker, and now Powers and Johnson.
He shook his head at all the injuries and touched the names of those who were killed. The three girls as well as Dugan, Franks, Hansen, and that bastard Caulfield. He went over the Face of Fear case in his mind a few times and was starting to second-guess his actions with Simpson, which many believe resulted in the ramifications of the Music Club Murders. A voice interrupted his thoughts.
It was ADA Ashley. “Don't second-guess yourself, because if you have doubts you will not be good for anyone.”
The detective lieutenant looked up at his old friend Ashley. “John, we have to make sure Branca and Tangretti are caught.”
“And,” Ashley replied, “the same goes for whoever shot Phil Smith that night.”
Cronin nodded his head. “That too.” Ashley started to leave when Cronin spoke again. “You are never going to let me live that down are you?”
Ashley slapped the side of the doorway as he continued to walk.
“Don't make a promise that you can't keep. Have a nice evening.”
Cronin went back to the chart from Paul's folder and called Gina into his office. He wrote a name on a piece of paper.
“Give me every flight he has been on between July 1 and July 9 of 2013.” She looked at the name, nodded, and went back to her desk.
Cronin walked over to Gina's desk and looked like he was staring at the air behind Gina. She glanced up at him and finally turned around to see what he was looking at. When she turned around he was now tapping the tip of her desk, still staring into space. She had known him long enough to let him be and continue to entertain his thoughts until he was ready to speak. It was another ten seconds when he did begin to talk. He looked at Gina and said, “Have the tech man, Tillman, gather all the video in the surrounding blocks of the City nightclub when Stone was shot and Linda Tangretti got away. I want a six-block radius of the club fifteen minutes before, during, and after the shooting. Everything we got. I also want him to check all social media of the names I will give to you, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, all that shit, within the same time frame. If he needs help, fine, let's pull strings to get him the help.”
He started to walk away when Gina asked him if he was sure if that's all he wanted.
“No,” he answered, “I'm not, but I will get back to you.” Gina smiled as she picked up the phone.
OCTOBER 10
Janet Gates relieved John Bay and tried to stay at her location, but she couldn't. Her conflicted feeling on what she doing for Madison kept her from sleeping. She waited another five minutes and walked down to the cell and tried to keep a straight face when she saw Madison, but when she smiled at her, the correctional officer couldn't help but smile as well. In a trembling and unsteady voice, Janet began to speak, “Listen, I . . .”
Madison interrupted her before she could finish.
“It's OK, Janet, I understand you have a job that you can't lose. I don't know what is happening, but I want you to know I genuinely care about you. I'm sorry.”
The correctional officer nodded her head slightly as she spoke.
“I'm not sure if I'm sorry, and that is what scares me.”
She smiled as she walked back to her desk. Madison stood there not sure of what she just heard, but she too had a smile on her face as she prepared to get ready to turn in. The next day she would see the doctor again about her nightmares that were now only once a week instead of every other night. She looked forward to exercising again as well. Her thoughts turned to Janet as she put the blanket over her. She would never forget how kind she was to her during this time of having nightmares and risking her job for her. Madison was honest. It ached her when she told the petite guard that she really cared about her. She also knew that she did not want Janet to lose her job. Two things would happen. She would lose her job, and Madison would lose having her around almost every night.
She drifted off to sleep peacefully as Janet watched her from the monitor screen at her desk. It was a camera that did not record film but allowed the
officers to be sure everything was going OK. The entire cell was on camera except for the small space where Madison would shower, use the toilet, and the back wall where Janet would sit with Madison. She kept shaking her head with her thoughts running wild. You are a kind person, Madison. I can’t believe you could really kill all those people. She shook her head again, hoping to get her thoughts under control.
Ken Anker, Kevin Sysco, and a new inmate that had just arrived at the precinct on a unrelated charge by the name of Rob McDonagh were all in the three holding cells at Priority 1. Normally Sysco would have been moved by now, but he never asked for an attorney, and Branca never sent a new one in. Cronin decided to keep him in the holding area in case he was needed. The big man never complained as long as they were feeding him. The three of them never spoke to each other in the holding cells until now.
Ken Anker broke the silence and spoke through the bars. “Whoever is shitting their pants, please stop.”
“Sorry,” Sysco replied. “It must be the food they serve here.” Rob finally chimed in, “Man, you need to see a fucking doctor, seriously, you have issues.”
“Sorry,” Sysco said again. “I can't help it.”
“Not normal, guy,” Anker said. “Passing gas is one thing, but it literally smells like you dropped a load. Just go on a fast.”
Officer Walsh, who was standing at the end of the hallway, came over to speak to the three jailed men. “What's all the fuss about, boys?”
Anker spoke first. “Tell monkey scratch ass over there to stop the shitting. I can't breathe.”
Walsh looked at Sysco. “He's got a point. Get it under control, or I'll have you hosed down.” Walsh walked back to his post, where he was met by a young African American officer. “What's up?”
“Nothing,” Walsh answered. “Tell the cook we need to serve Sysco bread and water for a while. Either that or we will have to drop a fumigation bomb in here.”
No Mercy Page 31