The Compound: A Thriller

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The Compound: A Thriller Page 20

by Ben Follows


  The chief could hear murmurings behind him as he walked to the car. He knocked on the window, and the woman looked up at him. He recognized her as the server at the seventies diner down the street.

  “Janet," he said, "are you all right?”

  “He killed him!” she screamed through the closed window, loud enough to be heard. “He killed him.”

  “Ma’am, I’m going to open the door. I’m here to help you.”

  The chief reached forward and grabbed the door handle. It was unlocked, and the door opened without any difficulty. He squatted down beside the woman and she let him put his arm around her and lift her out of the car. She continued to sob as he did so. She was able to stand on her own, but she dragged her feet, and the chief had to put one arm under her armpits to keep her upright.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he said.

  He looked up at the silent crowd. To the right of the door stood Thompson, who nodded at the chief as he passed but said nothing. The chief pointed at the interrogation room, indicating that Thompson should interview Paul.

  The chief led the woman through the bullpen and into his office. He sat her down and got her a glass of water. He closed the door behind him, seeing Thompson pull out his phone and dial a number.

  He turned back to the woman, who sipped the water delicately. She seemed to have calmed down a bit.

  The chief sat beside her. “I don’t know if you know who I am, I’ve been by the restaurant a few times. I’m Chief Williams. You can call me Gordon. Whenever you’re ready, I need you to tell me what happened to you, is that all right?”

  She nodded. “I recognize you. Jake Lavelle killed the man I love.”

  “Do you mind if I record this?” the chief said.

  “Go ahead.”

  The chief took out his phone and turned on the recording function. “Janet, I’m going to need you to tell me everything you know about Jake Lavelle.”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  Chapter 37

  Jake looked at the caller ID of the incoming call before answering.

  “Hello?”

  “A woman just came in, says her name is Janet and you killed the man she loved,” said Agent Thompson. “She’s the one you called me about earlier?”

  Jake smiled. A part of him had worried that Janet would disobey his command. If Harold had given her an emergency number to call in case of emergency, he would have been out of luck. Yet the gamble had paid off.

  “That’s her," said Jake. "She’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

  “Stop stringing me along, Lavelle,” said Thompson. “What is it you want? Did you or did you not have something to do with the explosion at the factory? Was Frank Tanners there? What happened to Harold?”

  “I had nothing to do with the explosion, although I was probably an intended target. Frank Tanners was there. Harold is dead. As for what I want, well, I want to make your career. ”

  There was a moment of silence before Thompson said, “I’m listening.”

  “I want to set up a meeting. No surveillance. No recording devices. Just you, me, and a third man whose identity I won’t reveal yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I haven’t told him about my plan yet. We don’t have the best relationship right now.”

  “And if he doesn’t come around?”

  “He’ll come around.”

  Thompson paused again. “Two days from now. The FBI offices in Boston.”

  “I’m not an idiot, Thompson. I’ll set up the location. You have the leverage, so we are meeting on my terms. I’ll call you with the details. Make sure Janet tells you everything she knows. That’s your background research.”

  “This is ridiculous.”

  “Be ready for my call, Agent. It will be worth your time.”

  He hung up before the federal agent could say anything else, and he didn’t answer when Thompson tried to call him back. Jake knew that the phone was untraceable. He put it back into his pocket and climbed out of the car. A search would be out for the car shortly. He stepped out into the alleyway, around a puddle that was leaking from a nearby dumpster, put on a baseball cap and glasses, grabbed his bag, and walked out onto the street.

  A thin sprinkling of rain was coming down. The street was empty except for people pulling up their collars as they ran between stores and restaurants.

  Jake took a sharp right turn out of the alleyway toward a tavern sign hanging out over the nearby corner. He walked through the door to Pete’s Pub and was greeted by the stale smell of cigars and whiskey. He almost immediately found who he was looking for, hunkered down at the bar and sipping on a beer, watching the LA Clippers game on the television above the bar. They were down by twenty in the fourth quarter, and the man was shaking his head in disappointment.

  Jake walked up to the bar and put his bag on the ground. He took a seat beside the man.

  “Can I get a beer?” he said.

  The man looked up, but his expression was blank. “Well, fuck,” he muttered.

  “What do you want?” said the bartender, coming over to get his order.

  “Whatever’s the best lager you’ve got on tap.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  The bartender brought his beer, and Jake sipped it. As the bartender receded, Keelan Ochre looked forward and laughed. “You’re the last person I ever expected to see again, Jake Lavelle. If we weren’t in a public place, I would have killed you by now.”

  “That’s the idea,” said Jake. “I didn’t kill your men. You know that.”

  “I don’t know what I know. I know you didn’t kill the ones you had a chance to kill, but I do know that your background is bullshit. That’s suspicious. You very well might have created that explosion. How did you find me?”

  “We have access to the FBI database. They had a trail on you six months ago, when you were working on a project here. They never found out the details. You frequented this bar three nights a week. I figured if you were back in town and had a shitty day, you’d come back to your favorite bar. Lucky guess, I suppose.”

  “I guess so. Why are you here?” Ochre looked up at the television and shook his head, muttering, “Ref needs to get his head out his ass.”

  “You offered to make me a deal, back at the factory. I’d like to take you up on that offer.”

  “Deal’s off the table.”

  “Hear me out anyway.”

  “Whatever. I have nothing better to do."

  Jake began talking though his plan, telling him about The Compound, about what he had been doing in Crescent Point, about Frank Tanners, and about what he planned to do next. Keelan listened, even though he wasn’t interested until about halfway through.

  Chapter 38

  “So what do we know?” asked the chief, sitting down at his desk. Janet was sitting outside in the bullpen, speaking with an FBI agent. She would probably end up staying at the Bishop’s Inn for the night—there were already officers out there asking Agatha everything they knew about Jake Lavelle. It wouldn’t be anything worth investigating, but they had to cover all the bases.

  Thompson, sitting across the table, shrugged. “My interview with Paul was exactly as we predicted, same story, just as bulletproof. We don’t have enough to arrest them, but we have more than enough to hold them until the investigation is complete.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

  “Why?”

  The chief pointed through the window to a man walking into the bullpen. He was holding a briefcase, wore a tailored suit, and walked with a holier-than-thou attitude. “They lawyered up.”

  “Fuck,” said Thompson. “I hate lawyers. I know they’re involved in it.”

  “You know, or you think you know?”

  “I know.”

  “How?”

  “I have a source who corroborates it.”

  The chief nodded. “Thought so. Someday, when this is all through, you’ll have to bring me up to speed on all the det
ails. But what’s our next move?”

  “My source has a plan, allegedly, and wants me to meet him. So I’m going to hold out on confirming anything until then. I need to know what he’s planning.”

  “What if it’s a trap?”

  Thompson shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it. I have no doubt that he—my source, I mean, who may be a she—has a plan that I should at least listen to.”

  The chief nodded. “Do you think Janet’s story is true?”

  “It makes sense and fills in a lot of blanks. If there’s an organization capable of making criminals disappear into new lives when the heat gets too high, then who knows how many criminals we thought were dead that aren’t? My source said this could make my career, but it could do a lot more than that.”

  “Janet didn’t have any specifics, only broad strokes.”

  “She wanted to move on to a new life with Harold. It makes sense she wouldn’t pry too deeply.”

  The chief stood. “I suppose. Well, you have my number. I know I can’t make you do anything, but I would appreciate being kept in the loop on any new developments. I’ll keep you updated on what’s happening at the factory. Deal?”

  Thompson leaned back as the chief. “I’ll tell you what I can. Any progress on the search?”

  The chief sighed. “No, they found the subbasements where Obrasey and Emerson went down, but it’s mostly incinerated. They’re trying to identify the bodies they managed to recover.”

  “Okay.”

  Chapter 39

  Thompson walked through the station. The chief was standing at the front, giving a short statement to the reporters. Once he was finished, he gestured for Judith Frederickson to come forward. The woman, openly sobbing as she pushed through the crowd, came through the gate and into the bullpen. The chief put an arm around her and offered her something to drink as he led her to his office.

  Thompson could hear their conversation as they passed him.

  “Is it true? Is he…? Is Frank…?” said Judith.

  “We don’t know. I just need to ask you some questions.”

  “Yes, yes, of course. I just want my husband back.”

  “We’re doing everything we can.”

  The chief looked up and nodded at Thompson as he passed.

  There were a few people in the reception area Thompson recognized, including Carl Magnusson and Karen Janis, standing toward the back but wanting to be aware of new developments as soon as they happened.

  Thompson grabbed his jacket and readied himself before walking through the crowd, shoving aside questions and people as he went. He was almost to the door when he turned to look into Carl Magnusson’s face. He and Karen stepped back quickly but then steadied themselves, meeting his gaze.

  He took two business cards out of the inside of his jacket and held them out. “If you have anything to say about Jake Lavelle or Frank Tanners that you haven’t said yet, call this number.”

  They both nodded and took the cards. Thompson turned and walked out the door into the soft rain. He didn’t mind, although the cold chill on his bald spot was a reminder of his age. As he turned back, he saw that the media had converged on Karen and Carl. He shrugged. Better them than him.

  He sent a quick text to Chief Williams saying he’d be back in a few hours before pulling out of the parking lot, driving along the shoulder of the road past the traffic, and then pulling onto the highway and heading for Boston.

  He had a date with Dirk Davidson, the only person who could singlehandedly blow the entire case wide open.

  Chapter 40

  Nicholas Cuminskey was looking over New York City, smoking a cigarette and letting the smoke hang in the air in front of him. It was a terrible habit, and he had quit just a few months ago. However, the events of the last few days had triggered a relapse, and at that moment he didn’t care about the negative effects.

  He hadn’t heard from Keelan or any of the others who had been in Crescent Point.

  He could only assume the worst. The DVD with Frank’s video was still in the player, but he hadn’t watched it again. He just needed to know what had happened.

  He kept glancing at the phone, knowing there was a message there from Dimitri, a call he hadn’t dared to pick up. He had let it go to voicemail. He hadn’t had the guts to listen to it, not yet.

  “Sir,” said Emma through the intercom, making him jump, “Keelan Ochre is here to see you. He brought a man named Jake Lavelle.”

  Nicholas frowned and pushed the talk button. “Who the hell is that?”

  “I don’t know, but Keelan said you’ll want to hear what he has to say.”

  Nicholas sighed. “All right, send them in.”

  A moment later the door opened and Keelan entered with a man Nicholas didn’t recognize.

  “Hello, Nicholas,” said Keelan in his usual monotone. His balance was slightly off, however. Not enough for a regular person to notice, but Nicholas knew the signs, the slight drooping of his eyelids, the slightly wide stance, hands in the pockets.

  “What happened?” said Nicholas, ignoring the newcomer. “Why didn’t you call me? You’ve been drinking.”

  “They’re all dead,” said Keelan. “Except for Vince and Matt. The FBI arrived. When they were inside the factory, it exploded. My men are dead, as well as about fifty FBI agents and police officers.”

  “What?” Nicholas felt as though he had misheard. “Are you serious?”

  “Very. Have you heard anything?”

  “Dimitri left me a message. I haven’t listened to it yet.” He nodded at Jake. “What’s he doing here?”

  “This is Jake Lavelle. Until recently he was involved with the people who faked Frank Tanners’s death. He has a plan to help us. I was skeptical about it at first, but he brought me around to his way of thinking.”

  Nicholas nodded. “Until recently?”

  Jake said, “They killed my family. This is revenge.”

  Nicholas chuckled. “Seems like a common theme recently. Keelan, you vouch for this man? He can be trusted?”

  Keelan hesitated for a moment and then nodded. “I think so. He’s our best chance to pull out of this nosedive.”

  “All right,” said Nicholas. “Both of you sit down. We’re going to listen to Dimitri’s message, and then you’re going to tell me everything you know and what this plan you sold Keelan is. Not many people have ever managed to change his mind. On anything.”

  Jake took his seat. “Thank you, Mr. Cuminskey.”

  “Call me Nicholas.”

  “Thank you, Nicholas.”

  “Ready to listen to this? I assume you know most of the story, Jake?”

  “Probably more than you.”

  “Fair enough. Then I won’t give any background on this.”

  Nicholas touched the “play” button on the answering machine, and after the computerized voice said he had one new message, Dimitri Kulovich’s voice came out of the machine.

  “Hello, Nicholas. By this time I’m sure you’ve heard about what took place at the factory this morning. I am aware of your attempt to send your men to kill me and get the video, and for that reason I had them killed. I don’t care what happened to them. I don’t care what happened to the FBI. I don’t care about what we did to Frank Tanners, and I don’t care what happened to my factory. All this was done with one purpose in mind: getting through to you the power I have. There is nothing I won’t do to you or your organization to get my way.

  “The factory was a decoy, meant to make a point. There was never a firearms factory there, there was never any plan for there to be. Crescent Point is a shithole—why would I ever set up a factory there?

  “I still have the video, and it was sent to dozens of sources who will release it at a moment’s notice. Consider this your only warning. I have many things planned for the future, including a true factory that you will buy from, and you are going to listen to me when I contact you. I won’t be telling you where I am any longer, because I’m not an idiot. I will se
nd you instructions on what I want you to do, and I will expect them fulfilled exactly. Otherwise, you can kiss your organization, your power, and possibly your life goodbye. Have a good day. I’m sure you have a lot to think about.”

  The message ended, and Nicholas looked up at Keelan and Jake, trying to gauge their reactions. “He never said his name.”

  Jake nodded. “He doesn’t want to give you any reverse blackmail material. Not that it would matter.”

  Nicholas took a deep inhale on his cigarette and let the smoke waft out of his mouth. “Is that really what this was all about? Proving he had control over me?”

  “It’s more than that,” said Jake. “It’s proving he has the resources to do that.”

  “He didn't say his name. We can’t prove it was him. He’ll release the video if we try.”

  “Maybe, but that doesn’t matter.”

  “What are you talking about? Keelan, you know what he’s talking about?”

  Keelan nodded. “Listen to him. The boy knows what he’s talking about.”

  Nicholas turned back to Jake. “So, Jake, what are we going to do?”

  “You’re going to release the video yourself.”

  Nicholas frowned. “You better start making sense really fast.”

  Jake grinned. “Dimitri only has power over you because of that video and the insinuations it will cause. I guessed, and Keelan confirmed, that there was some incriminating information concerning your rise to power in that video. So my plan is that we are going to release that video, but only after we’ve made what it reveals irrelevant.”

  “We?”

  “Yes, you’re listening to my plan, so it’s ‘we’ now.”

  “Hypothetically, if I accept the plan.”

  “Can I continue?”

  “By all means. Go ahead.”

  “Your fear is that if this video comes out, it will make your claim to the leadership of this organization illegitimate, and the people who are already suspicious of your ascension to the top will be proven right. However, if you reveal that information on your own terms, at the same time as the people who would have control over you have been eliminated, then it can strengthen your rule.”

 

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