Foreign Relations: A Finn O'Brien Thriller (Finn O'Brien Thriller Series Book 2)

by Rebecca Forster

  "But it's not fully three days and already I have enough to take it to the D.A." Finn said. "You saw the man we brought in. The woman's husband? Aman? He points the finger directly at Emanuel Dega Abu. The dead woman smuggled out video of her own torture. Torture ordered by Abu. I've got the producer of a film that is going to blow the lid off what's happening in Eritrea. She tells me that Abu would have stopped at nothing to silence the victim. I've just found out that one of his men, Rada, was at the bridge just this morning, flashing around a good bit of money and asking after the thumb drive Abu wants. Detective Anderson says Abu's other man was the one who assaulted her and—"

  "That's enough, O'Brien," Fowler said. "I read the report from last night. Anderson stated the man didn't speak, that it was dark and that she didn't get a great look at him."

  "She said that while she was being loaded into an ambulance," Finn said. "But this morning she was clear—"

  "Let Morrow do his job before you go accusing one of Abu's employees, O'Brien."

  "Ah, by the blessed mother, sir, those are no employees." Finn threw up his hands and shot out of his chair. "The one is a slave and the other is a mercenary. Rada wasn't down at that bridge at four this morning to be charitable.

  "I'll put it all together for you in a report if that's what you're needing, captain, but we have to move now, before Abu leaves this country. Sharon Stover, is going to premier that movie tomorrow night all over the world. Emanuel leaves the day after. If we don't at least put him on notice now, we might be putting that woman in harm's way. This isn't some jealous husband, this is a man who can order a hit any time on anybody…"

  Finn paused. He wasn't seeing the spark of interest he had hoped for in his captain's eyes. Instead, Finn saw the sublime patience of a man who knows the future and must bide his time before sharing such a burden with those who see only the mud they are mired in.

  "Captain?"

  "It's a done deal. I'm sorry."

  "And will you be telling me why?" Finn asked.

  "Because your investigation interferes with an international relationship that is important to this country," Fowler answered.

  "Politics is it, then? The mayor? He has no balls. Everyone knows that. Groveling to Abu is as low as a man can get." Finn grasped the back of his chair. "I thought you were better than that, captain."

  "I would like to pretend I didn't hear that, O'Brien."

  Fowler threw his pen on the desk, got up but didn't go far. He crossed his arms over his chest and put one foot over the other as he leaned back against the credenza.

  "The problem is that I did hear what you said, so let's have a little chat about how disappointed you are in the way this is going down.

  "You would prefer to keep investigating and take a case to the D.A. that implicates a foreign dignitary even though there isn't a snowball's chance in hell of indicting him on anything. The D.A. would hand it to the feds, Abu would claim diplomatic immunity, and he would be out of town before you could say the word coward. We would have thrown money at an investigation that went nowhere, caused a lot of political trouble and garnered press that would have every civil rights group hollering for our heads because we didn't do enough in a situation where every card was stacked against us."

  "Sure you lay out a challenging—"

  "I'm not done, detective," Fowler snapped. "You've impugned my personal integrity twice now, and I don't want to let that pass without comment. I have a responsibility to this division, the LAPD and the city of Los Angeles to delegate the resources at my disposal in a manner that will most benefit the citizens we serve. To throw those resources – including you, I might add – down a rabbit hole is not responsible. I looked at this incident closely. I cannot sanction it. That woman was not a citizen, the problems she had in her own country and the ones her very presence here posed to our government are well above my pay grade to understand much less address.

  "So, Detective O'Brien, you now have the same choice I did. You can pursue this matter against the wishes of some very powerful people – one of whom is a Congressional representative for our state – and you will find yourself blocked at every turn. It will begin here. I will ask you to hand me your badge because in pursuing this you will be insubordinate, and that is dangerous to all the men and women under my command.

  "Or, you can do your job, put your energy into your other work and know that there is often no justice in the world."

  "Is that all, then, Captain?" Finn asked.

  "I think that covers it." Fowler put the heels of his hands against the credenza.

  Finn's tongue found its way to his cheek as a reminder to watch the words he spoke next. The seconds ticked by while he considered his captain's desk. Finn would drown in so much paper. He would hate being pulled this way and that. He could never walk the fine line Bob Fowler did. But Finn was not the captain and he had a decision to make. He threw back his shoulders and stood tall.

  "Thank you, Captain. I'm appreciating the honesty," he said, and took his leave.

  "O'Brien," Fowler called just as Finn's hand grasped the doorknob. Finn looked over his shoulder. Fowler asked, "What are you going to do?"

  "I think I'll be going to see after Detective Anderson."

  CHAPTER 33

  Matt jumped and his heart nearly stopped when a car horn blasted behind him. He twirled around, dropping his backpack, as Jason's muscle car pulled into the parking space next to him. Jason was laughing when he got out of his car; he was still laughing while he watched Matt pick up his pack.

  "Got you good, Stover."

  "You're an asshole," Matt muttered.

  "You must not have got enough sleep last night, buddy. Want to tell me who was keeping you up?" Jason asked but then changed the subject. "Where's your car?"

  "What?"

  "Your car, man. Did you have an accident? Your insurance should have given you a better loaner than this."

  Jason ran his hand over the trunk of the little red car and then looked at his fingers as if he were worried he had caught something.

  Matt looked at the little car and shook his head. "It's not mine. I don't know anything about it."

  "That's good because if that was a loaner, I'd make you change insurance companies," Jason laughed as he and Matt fell in step. "Where are you going?"

  "To study with Gordon," Matt said. "There's a physics test today."

  "I swear, man, you are going to be done with college before you ever get accepted," Jason laughed. "Don't let it go to your head though. They just want you to get the basics out of the way so you can play soccer fulltime when you are official."

  Jason talked on while they walked single file through the door and out of the garage. Suddenly he stopped and Matt had to sidestep to keep from running into him.

  "Don't you think, Stover?"

  "What?"

  "Those people. I can't believe they let them live there." Jason was glaring at the people on the bridge. "They're supposed to be gone by now. The cops are such friggin' wimps. I swear, we should bring the team down here and clean them out. Once we had at them, they'd never come back."

  "Yeah. Maybe. I don't know."

  Matt turned toward the campus. He didn't want to look at the overpass. He didn't want to step foot on it. Jason allowed himself one more hateful look and then he followed Matt.

  "You're right. They'll be out of there sooner than later anyway. That's what my dad says."

  Matt glanced at Jason. "How does he know?"

  "He was at his club and a cop came down to harass some bigwig about the woman who got tossed off the bridge. Yeah, can you believe it? She didn't jump, man, she got tossed," Jason said. "Anyway, my dad couldn't figure out why that cop was hassling this important dude because they've got the whole thing on security tapes and it wasn't him. That guy is too short. My dad says once they identify the guy, all those slackers will get run out of town so why bother the other guy? That's what my dad wants to know. He's going to talk to the mayor about it." />
  "If they've got video then wouldn't they have arrested the guy already?" Matt asked.

  "They're probably looking for more stuff. You have to have a ton of evidence to make anything stick these days," Jason said. "You put one of those homeless guys in court, clean him up, tell a hard luck story and the stupid jury starts thinking about reasonable doubt. Jury's are made up of saps; that's what my dad says. That's why they need hard evidence. Me? I'd say screw the warrants. I'd sweep that bridge and go through every shopping cart and bag 'till I found something that they couldn't explain away."

  "Like what?"

  "What do I look like? CSI? Evidence. Hey, there's Monica." Jason saw his girlfriend and gave Matt a slap on the shoulder. "Gotta go, buddy. Have a good one, Stover."

  He and Matt parted ways at Alumni Park. It was mid-afternoon by the time Matthew finished his study group and took the physics test. He hurried back to the parking garage. Jason's car was gone and so was the little red one that Matthew knew was registered to Sharon Stover.

  ***

  The door opened when Finn was halfway up the walk. He slowed his step and took off his sunglasses.

  "Thomas? What are you doing here?" Finn asked.

  "Babysitting." Thomas opened the door wider. "Amber went to work since I was here. She picked up a short shift. Tucker's in his room sleeping and Detective Anderson finally went to bed to rest."

  "Amber trusted you with that little one?"

  "Detective Anderson vouched for me."

  "Then surely we need to get her back to the doctor to check her head once more," Finn laughed. He gave Thomas a slap on the shoulder. "'Tis a joke. I am duly impressed."

  "Finally," Thomas said as he closed the door.

  Once inside, Finn laughed again. "And the flowers. You've outdone yourself and made me look the villain."

  "Go big or go home is my motto, in case you haven't noticed."

  "Well done."

  Finn shrugged out of his jacket, feeling bad that he hadn't stopped for flowers. His only excuse was that he had a lot on his mind, not the least of which was how to tell his partner that they were shutting down the bridge investigation. The man who was responsible for Takrit's death, and now Cori's injuries, would get off Scott free because of politics. No posies would make that news better. Their only hope was that Morrow could put his hands on the Aussie for murder and assault. That wouldn't be as satisfying as getting Abut, but it was something.

  Finn put his jacket on the back of the easy chair and asked.

  "How is she?"

  "I won't lie. It's very hard seeing her this way. She's lucky to be alive."

  "That she is." Finn looked around. The house was neat as a pin. He could smell something cooking.

  "Chicken soup," Thomas said. "My grandmother's recipe."

  "Sure you've made a lovely home here, missus," Finn said. "You're just missing the apron."

  "Don't you start, Detective O'Brien," Thomas wagged his finger. "I'm almost sure I'm getting a few brownie points here. Do you want something to drink?"

  "If there's a beer in the fridge I won't be saying no." Finn tossed his jacket over the back of the easy chair. He looked at the coffee table, neatly laid out with all the things meant for a sick room. On the dining room table there was an open computer and Cori's briefcase. The computer was not Cori's.

  "Drinking in the middle of the day, Detective O'Brien?" Thomas called.

  "I've found myself with time on my hands," Finn called.

  Thomas was back with a beer in one hand and the baby monitor in the other. He gave Finn the beer and switched the monitor for a glass of ice tea that he had left on the table.

  "Sláinte." Finn leaned forward and touched the lip of his bottle to Thomas's glass before he took a long drink.

  Thomas drank a bit of his tea, put it on the table, sat back and rested his arms on the back of the sofa. "So, what's with the time on your hands?"

  Finn needed no other urging. He told Thomas everything: the details of Takrit's association with Sharon Stover, the movie, the worldwide premier of a hideous documentary that had been years in the planning and was targeting Emanuel Dega Abu. He told Thomas about Oliver who he knew had attacked Cori and Hali. He spoke of Rada who, Finn was sure, could be turned if given enough time. Finn talked about what he had learned about Emanuel and, for a moment, lost his objectivity because there was nothing Finn hated more in this world than the strong preying on the weak.

  He spoke bitterly of Emanuel's friends in high places and how they were able to stop the wheels of justice turning with one phone call. A snap of their fingers, Finn said, had disappeared Takrit. And for what? Money? Power? What of Hali's injuries and Cori's and the poor dead mother?

  "Disgusting, it is," Finn muttered and saw that his beer was gone. He set aside the empty bottle.

  "Yes. Yes, it is," Thomas agreed. "But such is the way of the world, isn't it? You have been swimming fast, my friend, but you have been gobbled up by a very much bigger fish that's been swimming behind you."

  "And who is the fish bigger than Emanuel? Who will gobble him up and spit out his carcass?" Finn groused.

  "Ah, isn't that always the question?"

  Thomas dropped one arm to the sofa cushion. He touched the afghan that was now neatly folded. With his other he touched the pillows he had fluffed in anticipation of Cori's return.

  "Detective O'Brien, I'm going to tell you the truth," Thomas said. "The truth is this: sometimes you just can't win."

  Finn's stomach jumped with the laugh that never quite made it out of his mouth.

  "That is it, Thomas? That's all you have for me when we are looking at a man as vile as Abu? When we know he ordered those atrocities that are being shown in that movie, not to mention the trail of misery he has brought here."

  Thomas shrugged and said, "Pretty much”.

  "And I am telling you, Thomas, that is just wrong. Emanuel has a double dose of original sin, my man, and I could have handed him to my captain on a silver platter to be crucified. We could have sent him to hell in a hand basket."

  Thomas pulled his brows together. "I'm not sure you have all your metaphors in order, but I catch your drift. The problem is this: you're not that good."

  "So you say," Finn laughed.

  "So I know. You would need a whole lot more than to just connect dots to make people sit up and take notice. Abu is a very uncommon criminal and that makes your job nearly impossible. While I have a great deal of respect for you, Detective O'Brien, you are a common man. I'll give you the high end of the spectrum, but you do not have the stone that will slay Goliath," Thomas assured him. "All you have is a ton of people who hate Abu, but hate is not illegal nor is it actionable. That is point number one."

  He made a checkmark in the air.

  "Point number two. You have evidence that at least two people have had a very tough time in this world because of Abu: Aman's face and Takrit's, well, Takrit. What happened to them means nothing to the U.S. justice system. Frankly, I'm not even sure the world court would care. They like bigger problems like genocide, so that evidence of crime won't be acted upon. And, may I remind you, female genital mutilations is not even considered a crime in some countries."

  Thomas paused when he heard Tucker fuss. He listened and then went back to his checklist when the baby settled.

  "The thumb drive? Has anybody ever seen that? No. If you had the thumb drive I'd say wow, good job, detective, you've got an honest to god piece of evidence." Thomas opened his palms to show he sympathized but was also unimpressed. "All I hear is a lot of hysteria about something no one has seen. Ask yourself this: if Takrit had that DVD or thumb drive or whatever it is, and she was committed to this movie project, why didn't she give it to this Sharon woman two months ago, two years ago? What was she waiting for?"

  "Stover says Takrit was overly cautious. She wanted to see the film before handing over that drive. She didn't want it to be an exploitation piece. Then Aman came along and lobbied for her to pull
out altogether. They both knew there could be consequences to what she was going to do and Aman didn't want to continue fighting a losing battle. Takrit was waffling about giving it up."

  "Says who?" Thomas scoffed. "Certainly not Aman. He's not talking."

  "Says Sharon Stover and I believe her. She has a lot of money riding on this and Takrit's video was to be the showcase."

  "And maybe the woman's an actress, my friend." Thomas scooted up on the sofa, excited to make his case. "Maybe all of this is just a publicity stunt to get Stover's movie noticed. Great story, great drama, great tragic ending: sexually tortured dead girl, dictator being wined and dined from the west coast to the east, hearsay on the video of Takrit's actual circumcision, a horribly mutilated husband pursuing his wife halfway across the world." Thomas raised an eyebrow. "I'd see that movie, wouldn't you?"

  "No, Thomas." Finn shook his head. "A woman would not use another woman that way for her own gain. I've seen the film. I've listened to Sharon Stover. She's not passionate in the way one might expect, but she is outraged and driven."

  "You, my friend, have a heart too big for your badge to protect," Thomas sighed as he sat back again. "People use people any way they can when money and fame are on the line. I know from whence I speak. That's my job. I tell a tale, I convince people that my tale is the absolute truth and I get money."

  "I hear what you're saying, but it will be a cold day in hell before I accept that. There must be some way to bring that man to account."

  Surprisingly, Thomas didn't answer. Instead, he got up and walked to the window where he looked out onto the very ordinary street outside Cori's house.

  "I don't know, detective," he sighed. "Sometimes you just have to let things go."

  "I know I've been ranting, Thomas, but I can't help myself," Finn said. "'Tis not pleasant to feel so hamstrung. I've never known a situation where there isn't a backdoor but for the life of me, I can't find it."