The False Mirror

by Dana V. Moison

  “What about my money?”

  “You’ll get it when I see Max Webber alive and well.” She evaded a direct answer. After all, what would stop Helborgen from shooting her and Max on the spot once he knew that the money was waiting for him inside the trunk of her car?

  “All right,” he muttered, his eyes still focusing on her like a hawk tracking its prey. “Bring him outside,” he grunted at Richie.

  The young soldier opened the back door and yanked the scarecrow-like figure of Max Webber. His filthy hands were tied, and he limped so badly that Richie had to support him for his first steps – until he noticed his boss’s angry glare and paced back, letting Max continue on his own.

  The man looked drained. His face was pale and sunken as if someone had sucked the life out of it.

  Hold on, Max, she almost mumbled aloud but restrained herself just in time.

  “Now, where’s my money?” repeated Helborgen.

  If she had any chance to get out of this alive, she had to prove to Helborgen that she was a woman of her word. If not, he might shoot them both, thinking she had betrayed him.

  “The money is in the trunk,” she replied reluctantly. She had an instinctive urge to reach for her gun, stashed behind her back, but she immediately stopped herself. Helborgen might notice.

  “Bring it,” he commanded her.

  “First, send the dad over to me. He looks like he’s about to pass out any minute.” Sharon tried to regain some control. “I promise not to run away with your money. I had enough chances to do that before I drove all the way to Jersey,” she added in a teasing tone.

  Ray seemed to be considering the offer. “Start moving, scumbag,” he barked at Max.

  The exhausted man raised his head at once and blinked a few of times. He didn’t expect to get out of this place alive. As his gaze moved from Ray to Sharon, relief crept over his face. He began to stagger toward her without looking back.

  The light at the end of the tunnel.

  Sharon desperately wanted to walk over to him and support him as he walked, but she knew she had to maintain her composure. She didn’t want to give Ray any reason to become suspicious, not when they were so close to the end of this whole thing. She watched the exhausted Max draw closer to her side, one heavy, tiresome step after the other.

  This is it. Soon, it would all be over.

  But then, a bang smacked her ears.

  Max tumbled to the floor, a flow of blood streaming from the back of his head.

  Helborgen had shot him dead.

  CHAPTER 55

  September 22, 2013. Somewhere in New Jersey

  Even before Sharon had the chance to comprehend the horrifying vision before her, Ray Helborgen’s sinister words stabbed her like a knife in the chest.

  “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out the truth, Detective Sharon Davis?”

  Sharon froze. She felt as if her entire body were plummeting off a cliff and at the same time remaining in place.

  She was about to die. Just like Max Webber.

  She tried to take a long breath, but all her body allowed was a few short, interrupted gasps that barely managed to provide her lungs with the oxygen they needed so desperately.

  No, it couldn’t be. Jacob probably saw what had just happened and would come to her rescue. A glimmer of hope arose. Why hadn’t he come yet? It wasn’t like him. Jacob is the kind of person who acts fast. If he had seen Helborgen killing Max, he would have fired right away. Something must have gone wrong.

  Sharon’s survival instinct helped her realize very quickly that right now, the only person she could depend on was herself.

  “Very nice, Helborgen.” She tried to keep a calm voice although she feared that her face was surrendering her true feelings. “I hope you don’t think I was stupid enough to come here without backup.” She tried to convey confidence.

  “I seriously doubt that; otherwise, I’d be dead right now. I have ordered my men to scan the place and take care of any potential threat . . .”

  Oh no, Jacob.

  “That’s funny. My men received the same order,” she lied.

  “And here we are alone. And only one of us is holding a gun.”

  Sharon wanted to reach for her weapon, but she knew that Helborgen would beat her to it and shoot first. Her best chance was to stall.

  “So, how did you find out the truth? I thought I was pretty convincing as ‘Katie’.”

  “You almost got away with it,” he admitted. “Luckily for me, just today, a friend asked me for a favor, to take care of a little snooping cop who was giving him a hard time. And what a surprise it was when that very same cop falls into my lap, just like that,” he snapped his fingers, “in an empty and witness-free lot! I couldn’t have thought of a better opportunity than this: killing two birds with one stone – or one gun, to be exact.” An evil grin spread across his face.

  “But it’s not as subtle and refined as shooting atropine into a cocaine addict,” she retorted. “It was an ingenious idea. The perfect murder. And now you want to finish this whole thing with a gunshot? What a shame, Ray, I expected more from you.”

  The mobster looked at her, dumbfounded. The fact that the detective had been able to figure out that he was the one who had committed the high-profile murder – and how exactly he had done it – surprised him, but even more, it worried him. Who else knew this?

  This moment of pause was exactly what Sharon needed. She swiftly pulled out her gun but soon noticed Helborgen had already picked up on what was happening and intended to shoot. His finger was already pressing the trigger . . .

  An abrasive burst of gunshot deafened her ears, but she didn’t feel anything. Maybe it was all the adrenaline running through her body.

  Suddenly, she saw Helborgen on the floor, his arm bleeding, his gun a few inches away on the ground.

  Jacob had finally come to her rescue!

  “Lie face down on the ground,” she commanded. She approached him and kicked the gun further away. Sharon expected to see Jacob emerging from the gloom or at least hear his voice, but there was no sign of him. When she scanned the vicinity, she saw Richie standing behind Helborgen, holding a gun.

  She was about to call out to drop the weapon, but he threw it on the ground even before she had a chance to speak. He pressed his fingers to his lips as a sign to stay silent. Sharon noticed that Richie was trying to whisper something to her, but the blackness made it difficult to read his lips.

  After a few moments, her eyes widened in shock. She understood what he was trying to tell her.

  “I’m a cop.”

  CHAPTER 56

  September 22, 2013. Somewhere in New Jersey

  Jacob came running a few seconds after the shot, his left hand supporting his ribs while the other was holding a Colt pistol. A deep, blood-stained cut decorated his forehead above his right eyebrow.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, panting.

  “Yeah, but Max . . .” Sharon’s voice choked, “Helborgen killed him.” She gestured with her gaze toward Max’s lifeless body.

  “Dammit!” he called loudly. Then he noticed Helborgen lying on the ground in a surrender position. “You’re a monster,” he hissed at him, the sounds of the advancing sirens dampening his words. Officers in uniform ran from the police cars toward the scene. Jacob knelt and leaned over toward Ray, whispering so that only he and Sharon could hear the words: “I promise you’re going to pay for this,” he threatened. “For everything you’ve done to Emily, to Brandon, to Max . . . A marshal’s word.” Seething, vengeful hatred dripped from his voice and made Sharon realize this wasn’t just another case for the dedicated marshal. This was completely personal.

  Perhaps too personal.

  The police officers cuffed the mobster carefully so as not to hurt his injured arm. Sharon noticed that the bullet had only grazed his arm. Excellent, she thought, that meant he would get to her interrogation room soon. She watched the officers place handcuffs on Richie while Helborgen tried
to signal him with his eyes.

  “Make sure to put them in separate cars,” she said aloud so that Ray would also hear. “I don’t want them to match their stories.” Helborgen was yet to find out the truth, and this was her leverage. He must keep on believing that Richie was on his side. She approached one of the officers and whispered, “Helborgen needs medical attention, but make sure his soldier remains here. I need to have a word with him.”

  Afterwards, she turned to Jacob. “What happened to you?” she asked in a concerned voice.

  “Helborgen sent his men to scan the area. They caught me off guard.” He rubbed his hurt rib unconsciously. “I barely managed to get away from them. Then, I immediately called the local police. I couldn’t take the risk of leaving you here alone even if it meant that the operation would fail. When I heard the shot . . .” he looked into her eyes, “for a moment there, I thought it was over. But you managed to take him down.”

  So, Jacob also thought she was the one who had shot Helborgen. Great. This meant that no one had seen what had really happened. The secret was safe, at least for now; that is, until the results of the ballistics tests came back, showing that it wasn’t Sharon’s Glock that had fired on the mobster.

  “I wasn’t the one who shot him,” she said quietly.

  Jacob blinked a few times. “Then who was it?” he asked, completely confused.

  “It was Richie.”

  CHAPTER 57

  September 23, 2013. On the Garden State Parkway, back to Midtown South precinct, Manhattan

  00:12

  Sharon and Jacob chose to drive Richie to the police station themselves so they could talk to him in private.

  “I’m sorry for the cuffs,” said Sharon, “but until we can confirm your badge number, we’ll have to process you like any other suspect.”

  “There’s nothing to apologize for,” grinned Richie. “On the contrary, it will only add to my credibility with Helborgen. I was sure that once I shot him, my cover would be blown. But somehow it all worked out.”

  “Thank you for that, by the way.” Now it was Sharon’s turn to smile.

  “We cops have to watch each other’s backs.”

  “So, you knew I was a cop all along?”

  “Not at first. To tell you the truth, I wouldn’t have guessed it in a million years. You played your part too well – you got on my nerves.”

  A bitter chuckle escaped from her lips. “How did Helborgen find out the truth?”

  “I caught a glimpse of him searching the web for information about you,” he explained. “Not as Katie, but as Sharon Davis,” he clarified. “Only then did I realize who you were. But I don’t think Ray had a clue that you were, in fact, the same person.”

  Sharon revisited what Ray had told her just a moment before he intended to shoot: “Luckily for me, just today, a friend asked me for a favor, to take care of a snoopy little cop who was giving him a hard time.” He must have meant George Lisbon. That was why they had talked right after she’d left his office. Lisbon was afraid she was getting too close to the truth and decided, once again, to “take care” of the problem with the mobster’s help.

  “I figured that once Ray saw you, as much as you’d try to conceal your true identity, he’d put two and two together and understand that you tricked him,” continued Richie. “You’ve probably realized by now that Ray Helborgen is not the type of person who lets anyone who makes him look like an idiot get away with it.”

  Her thoughts immediately wandered to Max Webber, the image of his lifeless body flashing before her eyes. Even twenty years later, Helborgen was unable to let go of his need for revenge. In fact, if it weren’t for Richie, she would have definitely joined the possibly very long line of victims of the cruel mobster.

  “Well, he sure looked like an idiot when his own soldier shot him.” Sharon flashed a wide grin.

  “That’s why I signaled you not to call me to put down the gun and threw it on my own. If Helborgen had heard you, he would have guessed what had really happened, and it would have been the end of me – or at least of my career as an undercover cop.”

  “Don’t worry, my lips are sealed for now,” she promised. “However, once the ballistics report comes back, it will be beyond my control.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” reassured Richie. “We’ll take care of it. The DEA has no fewer resources than the Marshals Service . . .” he smiled.

  Jacob gave a you-have-no-idea-what-you’re-talking-about smirk and continued driving. Sharon presumed that his thoughts were dedicated to Becky – how was he going to break the terrible news to her and explain what had happened.

  “So, when did Helborgen get on the DEA’s radar?” she asked.

  “Ray’s organization is responsible for the distribution of half of the heroin and crystal meth in the entire state of New York. In the last few years, they have taken over a large chunk of the psychedelic drug market as well. I’m talking about astronomical amounts. These scumbags will stop at nothing.” His face scowled in disgust. “They even pay high school students to distribute their product at parties to increase the demand. It’s a well-oiled cash machine, their golden goose. If we succeed in our operation, it will hurt them where it counts, and we can bring down the entire organization.”

  “And how exactly are you planning to do that?”

  “In about two weeks from now, there’s supposed to be a big meeting between the suppliers and the distributers. We’re talking about a very large shipment,” he explained, “on a scale of hundreds of pounds. As a soldier in Helborgen’s organization, I’ll have access to the details of the meeting, and we can catch all these bastards with their pants down. A slam-dunk knockout. It would take them a long time to recover from a hit like that.”

  “Wow. I hope that Helborgen’s arrest won’t sabotage your plans.”

  “Not at all. In fact, it might work in our favor.” His lips curled into a wily grin. “There’s no way this meeting will be postponed; it’s supposed to garner a profit of millions of dollars for the organization. If Helborgen is in prison, he’ll want another set of eyes overseeing the operation on his behalf. I wasn’t supposed to attend the meeting originally, but now this might just change.”

  “How did you manage to get so close to Helborgen?”

  “I’ve been working undercover in his organization for the past eight months,” explained Richie. “I managed to get in thanks to a recommendation from an older member we had moved to our side after Helborgen had ordered a hit on his nephew. After five months, we arranged for his protégée to be arrested. Helborgen needed a new right-hand man – a placeholder – who wouldn’t threaten the protégée’s rank, someone who could be brushed aside after his release.” Richie raised an eyebrow. “I made sure to be in the right place at the right time. I guess Helborgen figured it was the perfect solution,” he smirked.

  Sharon nodded in agreement. “Richie, I don’t know how to thank you.” She looked into his eyes. “If Helborgen had found out that you were a cop because you tried to save me, it would have ruined everything you’ve worked for this whole time.”

  Richie shrugged in modesty, “The moment every undercover cop dreads is when keeping their cover becomes more important than saving lives. I’m glad to prove to myself that I passed the test.”

  “One might even say ‘with flying colors,’” she quipped. “If there’s any way I can return the favor, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “Well, there is one thing that you could do . . .” A mischievous smile appeared on his face. “But you’re going to have to arrest me for it to work.”

  CHAPTER 58

  September 24, 2013. Manhattan, New York

  Sharon stood outside the interrogation room, watching Ray Helborgen through the one-way mirror. Two days had passed since the arrest, and he hadn’t uttered a word. The violent execution of Max and Emily – plus the attempted murder of a police officer – might promise him many years behind bars, but there was no evidence linking him t
o Tracy’s murder. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed Helborgen’s confession to nail Lisbon. It was the only way.

  Right now, however, there was another matter at hand. She promised to help Richie out, and for that purpose they had devised an elaborate plan. They just hoped Helborgen would take the bait.

  Sharon turned down the hallway to the adjacent room: Richie was waiting for her there, with his hands cuffed.

  “Are you ready?” she asked with a mischievous grin.

  “Let’s find out,” he replied with a sly smile and extended his cuffed hands.

  Sharon led Richie down the narrow hall, back to the interrogation room. Just before they entered, she whispered, “It’s show time.”

  Ray’s eyes widened when he noticed his soldier being led into the room. Still in handcuffs, he noted. This meant he hadn’t told them anything.

  “I’m giving you one last chance to talk,” the detective said to Richie. “Are you really willing to sacrifice everything for this man?”

  The soldier's eyes stared at the ceiling as if he couldn’t even hear her.

  “Listen to me, you’re going to be charged with aiding and abetting an attempted murder. I’m offering you immunity if you tell us what you know about Tracy Navarro’s murder. That’s a pretty good deal. If I were you, I’d take it.”

  Richie’s lips remained sealed.

  “Do you really think he would lift a finger to help you?” Sharon pointed furiously at Helborgen. “He would have thrown you to the dogs already if it had knocked off even a single day in prison!” she exclaimed. “Why do you insist on protecting him?”

  “Save yourself the trouble, Katie. He ain’t talking.”

  “Shut up, Helborgen.”

  “We both know you have nothing to charge him with. He didn’t know Jack shit.” The last two words rolled off Ray’s tongue with evident pleasure. “Hell, I didn’t even know I would try to kill you that night, so I didn’t really need anyone to ‘aid or abet’ me. You got nothing on him.” He flashed a smug smirk. “You’ll be releasing him by the end of the day.”