by Jane Gorman
“Of course.” Adam didn’t need to think about his reply. “What do you need?”
White paused as he lowered himself into his leather chair, adjusting his jacket as he sat. “I got a call this morning. From the Kapoors. Do you know them?”
Adam blinked and took a breath. “Jay’s parents. No, I never met them. They must be devastated.”
White frowned down at the files on his desk. “You could say that, I suppose. I never know what to say to parents who have lost a child through senseless violence.”
Adam waited silently. There was nothing he could add to that sentiment. He fought back the memories that crept into his vision whenever he thought about the dead children. Three plain wooden coffins being lowered into the ground. Three fresh graves holding three victims. The children he was supposed to protect. The children he had failed.
The sound of sirens from the street below the window carried over the regular street traffic, reminding Adam that every day on this job could be another day dealing with murder. It was worth it, he knew, chasing justice for those who needed it. Justice for those who deserved it. But it was tough.
Finally, Deputy Commissioner White looked up again. “In some ways it’s worse for them… if it can be worse in a situation like this.”
He looked closely at Adam as he spoke, and Adam saw the light glinting off the hint of whiskers around his mouth that his razor had missed that morning. He must have shaved in a hurry.
“Their son is dead, but we’re looking for someone who wanted to kill the senator. Or the French ambassador. You see the problem? From what I know about you, Kaminski, this is the sort of problem that’s of interest to you.”
Adam nodded. “Who’s looking for the person who killed their son, you mean?”
“Exactly.” The deputy commissioner picked up a pen from the surface of his desk and starting tapping it gently, quietly.
“It’s the same thing, though, really, isn’t it?”
“Of course. Find the man who took a shot at the senator and you find the man who killed Jay Kapoor. They’re doing the right thing. The same investigation we would run.” He nodded, as if convincing himself.
Adam thought about the situation. The investigation had to focus on the likely intended victim. In this case, that was either Senator Marshall or Ambassador Saint-Amand. But Jay Kapoor was dead. He was the actual victim, if not the intended victim. And his parents needed to know that someone was paying attention to his death.
“You’re right, I want to help. What can I do?” Adam asked.
“They’re not just another family, you know?” White’s comment didn’t seem to be in response to his question, so Adam waited until White continued, “They’re influential, I mean. Here in Philly. He owns a chain of jewelry stores. Not national, at least not yet, but they’re a big business. And she’s used that money to establish herself in Philly society.”
“So they’re looking for extra help?”
White blew out his lips in frustration. “It’s hardly special treatment. Nothing like the senator and ambassador are getting. And their son is dead.” He looked at Adam once again. “They’ve asked for our help. And we have to help them. Because they’re influential here in Philly and can help the department. And because it’s the right thing to do.”
“How can I help the investigation, sir? I haven’t been invited to join. I’m closing out my report here, and my role in this is done.”
“I know, I made some calls. After I spoke with Mrs. Kapoor.”
Adam raised his eyebrows. “So I’m going to DC?”
“Just as an observer, technically.” White shrugged. “I called MPDC, a deputy commissioner there. He understood when I explained it to him. MPDC’s not really involved in the investigation, you understand?”
“Sure, it’s FBI and Diplomatic Security, right?”
“That’s right. Metropolitan Police in DC are asked to help, sometimes, when the feds need some on-the-ground footwork, people who know the area.”
“I don’t know the area,” Adam pointed out, but White waved his hand as if to wave away Adam’s concern.
“You’ll be there, assigned on a temporary detail to MPDC. That’s the best I can do, it will have to be enough.”
“Yes, sir.” Adam stood, then turned back to White. “I’ll do my best, sir. You know even with me there, this investigation is still going to focus on the senator. Not Jay.”
“Understood, Kaminski. Do what you can to watch out for the boy’s interest. For the family’s interest. And make sure you keep them informed of all progress. They need to know we’re there for them.”
“Yes, sir.” Adam headed back out to his desk to make a few more calls.
The pavement under Sam’s feet vibrated with a passing bus. The rattles and groans of the cumbersome vehicle as it passed the World War II Memorial and turned onto the loop around DC’s famous Tidal Basin drowned out Officer Ramona Davis’ next words.
“What?” Sam asked, frowning and shaking his head.
“I said, who the hell do they think they are?” Ramona repeated without raising her voice.
Sam laughed. “They think they’re the FBI. Working for the good of the American people.” He kept his left arm draped over the roof of Ramona’s patrol vehicle, but bent lower to look at her as she leaned toward him from the driver’s seat. “I don’t have a problem with that. Why should you?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged, glancing past Sam at a couple of joggers making their way toward the path along the water. “You were there, Diplomatic Security has the lead for the ambassador’s security, it was at the ambassador’s residence.” She looked back at him, this time her voice rising. “Seems to me it should either be DS on the lead, or MPDC — this is our city, you know?”
Sam smiled and looked down at the serious young officer. He had known her father years before, when Sam was a rookie on the police force for the District of Columbia. Sam had since moved on to Diplomatic Security while his friend and mentor had retired to a quiet life, waiting to become a grandfather.
Ramona was the spitting image of her father in so many ways. From her broad cheekbones, wide smile, and perfect pearly white teeth to her overpowering sense of justice. Where her father’s face had accumulated ridges and valleys of experience and wisdom, Ramona’s was still smooth as molasses, clear and bright.
They both looked over when they heard the sirens of an approaching motorcade, a common enough occurrence in this part of the district. Blue flashes from the headlights and dashboard of the lead SUV identified it as the law enforcement detail protecting whichever dignitary followed in the black limo.
Sam’s eyes followed the limo, its tiny American flags whipping angrily in the wind as the car sailed past. He couldn’t see through the tinted windows, but didn’t particularly care which politician or VIP was going to what meeting or party.
He turned back to Ramona. “Do you still claim this is our city?” He nodded toward the back end of the motorcade. “It’s their city now, and you know it.”
She shook her head and tapped her hands on her steering wheel. “No way. It’s theirs when they want to drive through town without hitting traffic. It’s ours when some kid is killed or some hospital’s missing meds. And when any of that crime comes a little too close to those bigwigs, who do you think they blame? Hmm?”
She moved her arm in a broad sweep, indicating the scenery around them. The top of the Washington Monument peeked from over the trees to the north, while Thomas Jefferson kept a serene eye on them from his granite pedestal across the Tidal Basin to their south. People jogged, walked, and biked past, enjoying the majesty of history as only DC could provide.
“No, this is our city. These are our citizens. And we’re tasked with protecting them.” She looked back at Sam. “We’re the only ones who are. Who are actually thinking about them, and not the voting tendencies of some group of donors in Ohio.”
“Okay, okay, I’m not going to debate this with you.” Sam
laughed and put his hands up in surrender. “I am on this murder investigation, even if the FBI has the lead. And I wanted to ask you a favor.”
“I was wondering when you were going to get to that.”
“Come on, I can’t stop the daughter of an old friend for a casual chat?”
She smiled, and Sam couldn’t help but smile back. “Of course you can. I wish you would more.”
“I know, Ramona. I’m sorry. There’s always just so much going on.”
“Like this murder?” she prompted him.
“Right.” Sam tapped his hand twice on the roof of her vehicle, getting his mind back to the situation at hand. “I got a call that Philly PD is sending someone down.”
“What?” Ramona interrupted him, her voice incredulous. “It’s not enough that we have federal agencies jostling us out of the way. Now Philly PD wants to get in on the act?”
“I don’t think it’s like that.” Sam’s voice didn’t carry the conviction of his words, and she smirked and raised her eyebrows.
“I’ve been working with this guy for a few days on the Philly visit. He’s been my local liaison with their Dignitary Protection Unit. He’s a good guy. Seems like a good cop.” Sam nodded, his voice more firm now.
“That’s great. What’s he going to do down here?”
“Well…” Sam hesitated briefly. “He’s going to be assigned to work with MPDC.”
“What?” Ramona’s voice rose to a level even Sam wasn’t expecting.
“Look.” He tried to speak calmly. “The senator is from Pennsylvania. Her aide was from Philly. And looks like his family has some pull locally, at least with Philly PD. They’ve been making a bit of a ruckus, saying they want someone to keep a focus on their son.”
“Hmph.” It was nothing more than a loud exhale, but Ramona managed to let the sarcasm carry on her breath. “That won’t be the FBI, then, will it?”
“No,” Sam admitted, “and it won’t be DS either, I’m afraid.”
She frowned. “Really, Sam, even you?”
Sam shook his head. “Look, Ramona, this isn’t a big deal. We’re all working together. FBI’s got some great agents on this. We’re a strong team and we’ll get this solved. But no, we won’t be focusing on Jay Kapoor.”
“So Philly PD will be the voice for Jay.” She looked back up at Sam, but he was staring off across the Tidal Basin, his attention caught by movement on the water. “And where do I fit into this little scene?”
Sam looked back at her. “Keep an eye on Kaminski, our friend from Philly.” He leaned into her car to put a hand on her shoulder. “He doesn’t know DC, doesn’t know how people work down here. He might need someone to hold his hand a little.”
“Gee, thanks. It’s babysitting, then?”
“Look, it won’t be so bad. He’s been good to work with. Plus I asked around a little, and I’ve heard good things about him.”
She shrugged. “Fine, then. I’ll keep an eye out for him. How do I know I’ll even be assigned to work with him?”
“I’ll have DS request your assistance on the case. That way you’ll be involved, you’ll be the one assigned to partner with Philly PD.”
“So I’ll be in on the investigation, even though I’m not a detective?” Ramona smiled and shook her head. “I don’t know how you do it, Sam, but you manage to annoy the hell out of me and give me exactly what I want all at the same time.”
“Hey, I may’ve left MPDC years ago, but I still have some pull, some favors to call in. And I’m always watching out for you. You’re not the lead on this, remember. This is an FBI case. You’re just there to serve as a liaison with MPDC when they need one. And to keep an eye on Kaminski.”
“Of course.” Ramona shrugged, but Sam recognized the look in her eye. Determination. Excitement. Ambition.
Sam shook his head as he stepped back from her patrol vehicle. He hoped Kaminski knew what he was getting himself into. “Right. Now get back to work, before someone notices you’re not on your assigned patrol.”
“Yes, sir.” Ramona gave a token salute, then pulled out into the 17th Street traffic.
5
Only the tips of Sylvia’s sandaled toes touched the sand below the swing as she tapped at the earth to get it to move her in the right direction. No one else could make sitting on a child’s swing seem elegant. Sexy.
Adam crossed the grass towards her, the Roundhouse looming behind him.
A swarm of children from a local daycare center darted among the swings and slides, slipping in the sand around the swing set. Sylvia watched them as they ran, laughing when they laughed, smiling back at them as they ducked around her. She tucked her hair behind her ear whenever the light breeze moved it in front of her face. Her skirt floated in the same breeze, but managed to stay just above the surface, never touching the sand below.
She looked cool and happy, and Adam envied her that as he felt a trickle of sweat working its way down between his shoulder blades. The daily uniform in dignitary protection was a dark suit, even in the summer months. And this was only early June — Adam hated to think what it would be like in the heat of August.
Approaching the swing set, Adam leaned around Sylvia, planting a kiss lightly on her cheek, then grabbed at the next swing over. It groaned as he squeezed his bulk into it, but it held his weight.
“You should be careful.” Sylvia smiled. “I don’t think this set can hold a large man like you.”
“No, I suppose not.” Adam laughed as he stood, then reached his hand out to her. She took it and he barely felt her weight as she pushed up off the swing with a little jump, almost floating down to the ground. “You look beautiful,” he said with simple honesty.
She smiled and placed a hand against his cheek, playfully tapping a finger against the dimples that Adam found so embarrassing. “And you look hot. And stressed. Why did we have to meet this morning?”
As they stepped out of the sand, a group of children ran towards them, one little girl reaching out to pull on Sylvia’s skirt.
“Hello, Sasha, how are you today?” Sylvia smiled as she bent down toward the girl.
The girl smiled shyly, one finger tucked carefully into the corner of her mouth, and stepped back into the group she was with. Sylvia laughed and looked over to the group’s caretaker, keeping an eye on them from the far side of the playground. Sylvia shared a wave with the woman, then patted the little girl on the shoulder. “I’ll see you again another day, okay?”
The group ran off, shouting and laughing. The little girl turned to give Sylvia a tiny wave before joining her friends.
Adam watched Sylvia with pride, in awe, as always, of her ability to make anyone, even children, feel comfortable with her. He chose a bench deep in the cool shade of a nearby tree. “Turns out I have to go to DC. Today. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”
“Is this about that shooting?” Sylvia’s face showed nothing but concern as she leaned forward and placed her hand over Adam’s as it lay in his lap. “Will you investigate that boy’s death?”
“Looks like it. At least I’ll be an observer, not an investigator.”
Sylvia made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a snort as she stood. “An observer? What does that mean?”
“Sylvia. It means I’m going to help out however I can. Why does it matter? Julia didn’t see a problem with it, why do you?”
“Julia?” The pink spots on Sylvia’s cheeks turned a darker shade of red. “You talked to Julia before you talked to me?”
“Honey, I didn’t mean anything by it. I wanted to see you, in person.”
“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest as she turned her back to him. “Sometimes, Adam… sometimes I think she’s more important to you than I am. She’s your sister. I’m… I don’t know what I am.”
“Sylvia, honey, please.” Adam put a hand out to touch her shoulder but she shrugged it off. “It doesn’t mean anything. I don’t have to choose between my family and you. I love you both. And Julia
really needs me.”
“And I don’t?” Sylvia turned back to him. The breeze caught her hair again. She didn’t catch it behind her ear, instead letting her hair and her skirt wave against her slender frame. The lavender scent that Adam had grown so accustomed to carried over the air to him and he felt a pang of loss so acute he had to look away. He knew what was going through her mind.
“I don’t want to fight if you are leaving,” Sylvia said, interrupting his thoughts. “This must be an important investigation, no?”
“The deputy commissioner himself asked me to do it.”
Sylvia sat down and again took his hand. “I do love you, Adam. And this will be good for your career.”
“I suppose… that’s not really why I’m going…” He shook his head as he spoke to her. “It may be true, I don’t know. In fact, it may not be true.” When Sylvia looked confused, he continued, “I’m going to protect the interests of the boy who was killed — Jay Kapoor.”
“The boy?” Sylvia’s frown deepened. “Surely you want to know who attacked Senator Marshall? Or the ambassador?”
“It’s all the same thing in the end, you see?” Adam explained. “We’re trying to find the man who fired the shot. Right now the FBI and Diplomatic Security are treating the VIPs as the victims. Deputy Commissioner White wants to make sure we have someone there who remembers that Jay was the victim. Intended or not.”
Sylvia frowned. “I see… that makes sense. And the deputy commissioner asked you to do this?”
Adam smiled as he saw what had changed her mind. Not the fate of the victim. The deputy commissioner. “Yes,” he said out loud, “and the boy’s family, the Kapoors. Quite influential in Philly society, apparently.”
“Really?” Now Sylvia was smiling again. “Then you must go and do your best.” She paused and examined him closely. “I know you, Adam Kaminski. I know you think I’m being selfish… that I don’t understand. I do. Better than you do, I think.”
“What do you mean, Sylvia?” Adam asked with a sigh, recognizing where this was going.