by C A Devine
‘It proved all very lucrative as one shipment after another arrived without a hitch. Ever the entrepreneur, The Baron realised he was only using half his potential transport capacity. He needed to move into export. And in Afghanistan that means only one thing, heroin. The only thing he needed now was to convince his GI buddies to come in on it with him.’ And as if on cue I heard brisk sharp footsteps. I looked up as the two polished officers slowed to a crawl, their eyes shifting warily from me to Max, to Yolanda and back again. ‘Ah Major Hudson, Sergeant Mercer, I’m so glad you could join us.’
‘What is this all about?’ The major demanded.
‘What? Why?’ Yolanda frowned at me.
‘Michael left a …’ The major turned for the exit. Mom’s aide blocked his way.
‘Sorry for that little deception. I just wanted to confirm you knew Michael. From Afghanistan, right? How did Ariana talk you into it, Major? Was it easy? Did you hold out?’
‘I don’t know what you are talking about,’ Hudson said.
I glanced at Max; she was just watching the scene. ‘I think turning up at Michael’s request speaks for itself. So was it easy? And what about you, Mercer? Did you get into this under duress from your superior? You know we’d be happy to look at the old just- following-orders routine if you’d tell us what happened.’
‘What? I don’t know what,’ Mercer was shut down by a single glance from Hudson. I turned back to Max again and this time she swallowed hard and nodded. The military eyes kept shuffling from Max to Yolanda and back again.
I steepled my fingers, ‘Did he ever mention his niece Lucky to you?’ No-one answered. ‘Bring Ryan down. You’d be promoted to sergeant in no time. It was a good career advancement plan and it almost worked. It probably would have if it wasn’t for Max. You’d spin yourself as my saviour, have my parents’ and the department’s gratitude, was that the plan, Yolanda?’
‘What? What are you talking about, Mac? You think I’m involved in this?’ She scanned the room and earned a good few sympathetic nods. ‘I’m not sure what two and two you’ve put together, but you’ve made five.’
‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, Ryan’s mad. It’s a great cover for you.’
‘I admired you. Everyone knows that long-term undercover work can have terrible consequences for a cop’s mental health – depression or paranoia, or both. You had the right to some time to adapt. You deserved the chance to settle into homicide. You were angry and not a little difficult to work with. Unfortunately I wasn’t the only one who noticed, even with me going above and beyond to try to cover for you.’ She huffed out a breath, ‘Look, I know it was a tough adjustment. But no-one was surprised when you were signed unfit for duty. And by the sounds of things, you shouldn’t be back now because your paranoia seems to have advanced to delusional conspiracies.’
I smiled at her and shrugged, ‘I wasn’t really surprised myself that I was taken off the streets. I wasn’t fit. I didn’t exactly hold it together after the execution of four of my ex-girlfriends.’ I re-crossed my legs, ‘Which brings me to my third question. How exactly did The Baron know who my ex-girlfriends were? There were even fewer people who would have known that. In fact, there was only one person on the whole planet who would have known that all four of those women were tied to me in some way.’
Again I stopped and after a moment Yolanda lifted her face and met my eyes. ‘Crackstone? Surely not?’
‘It was something I didn’t want to – no, couldn’t – believe. That Marcus had something to do with it … I’ve known him since grade school and he has never once not been there for me. But it was something I had to consider. I got to talking to him regularly during my time at sea. Something we hadn’t done in a while. He told me he was gay. I know, don’t say it. How didn’t I know?’ I shook my head. ‘He also told me that he was in a relationship with a guy he worked with at the bank. A guy called Thomas. Thomas Brown, the brother of the delectable – his words, not mine – Detective Yolanda Brown.’ I looked straight at Yolanda, straight into her eyes. She frowned at me with a condescending smile. ‘That was when it all started to fall into place.’ I folded my arms across my chest. ‘Then, through a bizarre turn of events, I met the Assistant Commissioner of the London Metropolitan Police.’ I tilted my head, ‘You’re right, it does sound like a conspiracy. Anyway, it turns out he was running an investigation into The Baron for suspected liquor smuggling to Afghanistan. Strangely enough, he knew nothing about the inquiries the NYPD had made about the identity of The Baron, an English guy. Strange, because Charlie passed on his suspicion of The Baron’s nationality to the NYPD’s intelligence gathering unit. And my mom, the head of said unit, gave the task of contacting London to you.’
Yolanda shook her head, ‘You ungrateful bastard. I risked my own career, sacrificed my own principles.’ She stood up on all of her 5 feet 4 inches, her neck stretched, head forward, finger pointing. ‘And now you are throwing it all back in my face. I should have let you burn.’
‘That brings me to my fourth and final question. Max and I sailed back to New York from Spain on Marcus’s yacht. Only four people knew this: my mom and dad, the Assistant Commissioner of the Met, aka Max’s father, and, of course, Marcus, who explained to me, on another one of our cosy chats, how it was Thomas who suggested that I use the boat. He said that it would be good for me to get away from New York. Of course, Marcus thought it was a great idea. He would have done anything to help me.
‘You know, Yolanda, I think I’m finally starting to get a handle on this homicide detective, putting the pieces of the puzzle together, because I realised then that there was only one common denominator in this God forsaken state of affairs.’
I caught her out of the corner of my eye, striding confidently out of the captain’s office and heading straight down the centre of the room. A flash of instant recognition.
Yolanda shook her head in condescension once more, ‘Look, I know you want to believe Marcus. You’ve been under so much stress. I understand that. Everyone here understands that.’ She looked around, mustering support. ‘God knows how I would have reacted in your position. I can understand how you want to hold onto the things that you believe to be solid. But you need to look at the facts.’
Her long dark hair swung back and forth as she click, click, clicked forward on 4-inch heels.
‘I’m sure Thomas’ client list makes for interesting reading, I’d like to see the deposits in his cash funds,’ I said.
She was oblivious to the drama unfolding 15, then 10, then only 5 feet in front of her.
Hudson sprung, throwing his arm around the neck of Millie, our 5 foot 1 administrative assistant. He flicked a gun up into Millie’s ribs. Millie hiked in a sharp breath, but didn’t utter a sound.
Hudson smirked. ‘Now, I think this young lady and I are going to head out, preferably just the two of us.’
‘I don’t know where you think you are going to go, Major.’
‘That’s okay because I do. Now, out of my way,’ he waved the gun and started forward, pushing Millie in front of him. I stepped aside, my mind racing. ‘You too, Baron-girl,’ he said when Max didn’t move. I gave a tiny nod and Max stuck out her foot and took one slow step to the right. ‘Move,’ Hudson gave Millie a firm push and she stumbled on the 4-inch stilettos. ‘Don’t even think about it, I’m sure you can walk fine in those things, my dear,’ he said, sticking the gun in tighter to reinforce the point. Millie pulled herself up, pushing out a shallow wheezy breath and shuffled forward. ‘Faster,’ Hudson said. Millie tried to pick up the pace, but her tight skirt restricted her movement.
Hudson pushed her in the direction of the stairs. The crowd, guns outstretched, parted like the Red Sea. After Hudson passed, Mom drew her piece on Yolanda and Mercer, then scrunched up tightly to her aides, whispering in their ears. One gave a tiny nod and began a silent retreat towards the offices at the back. The other covered her.
‘Get a patrol car out front and running. Now!’ Hudson snapped at a young
officer at the top of the stairs. His eyes shot immediately to a nearby sergeant who gave a sharp nod. He turned and flew down, taking the stairs three at a time.
‘What the …’ I heard a voice echo on the stairwell, ‘watch where you’re going?’ A voice I recognised.
I stepped silently into the clear passage the crowd had created and took five long strides up behind Hudson. Some of the onlookers frowned, others fixed their gaze on me. All, I knew, were looking for instruction or opportunity or confirmation that I was just plain crazy.
Then I heard a second voice. ‘Marcus, whatever she wants, it better be important, I’m in the middle …’ Thomas Brown pulled up short on the top step, his eyes circling the scene, but coming to rest on Hudson. Marcus came to a faltering halt two steps below him, grabbing the banister for balance. ‘What’s going on?’ Thomas asked. I took two more steps and I was within touching distance of Hudson. Thomas glanced at me. It was now or never; I nodded to an officer to my left, wearing standard issue body armour. I swung my right arm back and brought it forward with all the force I could muster, sending Hudson’s right arm flying into the air. The officer dived for Millie, pushing her down on the floor, throwing himself on top of her. She hit the ground with a scream.
Hudson got off a shot, firing upwards towards the head of Thomas. Thomas dived to the right. Marcus fled back down the stairs. The bullet exploded into the wall in a plume of dust.
I dived forward, covering Hudson and taking him down with me. Bang! He got another bullet off. Thomas let out an almighty screech. Yolanda yelled and darted for him. I grabbed Hudson’s right arm and began prying his fingers from the gun. Another detective dived to my side and grabbed his wrist, holding it steady as I released the remaining digits and pulled the weapon from his grasp.
Millie was crying, Thomas was screaming and Mom was shouting orders. I knelt up, straddling a wriggling Hudson and pulled his arms behind his back. Someone handed me a nylon cuff; I slipped it on, pulling it tight then scrambled to my feet, dragging the major with me.
‘Call the paramedics,’ Yolanda called out to whoever would listen. I looked over, dark red blood oozed from beneath Thomas’ shirt. She crouched by his side and gently pulled away his coat to look at the wound. Thomas let out another scream.
It was only then that I noticed Marcus, crouching in the stairwell a half dozen steps from the top, pale and shaking, tears rimming his eyes. Then I saw Max step over the legs of Millie, the detective and then Thomas and scuttle down to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. It was nice of Max to make the gesture, but he’d still blame her.
I read Hudson his rights, made sure the cuff was tight and handed him over to a uniform for processing. Then I stepped over Thomas and trotted down to join Max and Marcus. ‘Come on,’ I reached down and pulled Marcus to his feet. I led them up the stairs and back over Thomas’ legs. Marcus tried to stop, but I kept him moving, marching him across the bullpen. I turned to Max. ‘Do you want to see my office?’
‘You have an office?’ she said, smiling at me.
‘Hey, I’m an important guy around here,’ I said, stopping at a glass door and pushing it open. The name plate read Lieutenant M Ryan.
‘You do too,’ Max said.
I shoved Marcus into a seat and stepped to my desk, pulling open the bottom drawer. I extracted a hip flask and handed it to Marcus.
He took a swig and started to gag, ‘Yuck, it’s whisky.’
‘Really,’ Max grabbed the flask from him, taking a swig and gagging in equal abundance, ‘what is that?’
‘What?’
‘That has never been within 50 miles of Scotland.’
‘It’s Irish.’
‘What?’
‘I’m Irish.’
She shook her head, but took another swig. ‘Do you always sound that mentally deranged when you’re briefing the men on a case?’
‘I don’t know,’ I shrugged, ‘possibly, yeah, I guess I do. Public speaking never was really my thing.’
Mom stuck her head in the door, ‘I love it when a plan comes together.’
I rolled my eyes.
38
Siouxsie, Lainey, Lily and Lisa.
A half hour later, I stepped into interview room one. Yolanda sat at the grey table, a union lawyer perched beside her.
‘How is Thomas?’ she pounced.
I was trying to finalise in my head exactly how I wanted this to play out. I sat down. ‘How did you and The Baron hook up?’ I gave her a minute to respond to the question, but she only stared back at me. ‘Nothing to say, Yolanda?’ I waited one more minute before deciding to power ahead. ‘Well, let me tell you the theory that I threw together.
‘The Baron contacted you. He talked about your sister, Wilhelmina. You and a few other families had been particularly vocal about receiving only partial remains of your loved ones from the front line. I remember my mom telling me how distressing it was for you. The Baron told you he was someone who had suffered a similar tragedy. He wanted to help people like you. And you ran a family support group. You knew the people to reach out to.’
‘We wanted our families back,’ she looked up at me, meeting my eyes. ‘Washington doesn’t care, they never cared. We, the families, we were the only ones who cared. We had to bring them home. And that man understood. His children were killed. He didn’t even get to give them a decent burial. He didn’t want to see that happen to anyone else. More than that, he wanted to do something about it,’ her tone was soft, gentle even. ‘Now, find out how Thomas is.’
‘The only thing that bothered me about my theory was the gaping holes in it. Like, how did he find out about you?’ Yolanda rolled her eyes. ‘The more I thought about it, the more my whole timeline didn’t make sense. In fact, I realised this all started for you long, long before The Baron’s family were killed. So I ran my little hypothesis around in my head again, tried, like you always said, to focus on the evidence. And the evidence all pointed to this starting in a completely different way.’
Yolanda frowned. I let out a long dramatic sigh. Was I drawing this out? Was I revelling in the moment? Definitely, I deserved it. ‘You see, when I was recuperating in Spain – oh and I’d like to take this opportunity to thank you and your brother for organising that one – I visited that US military base I was telling you about. It’s a big old place, dates back to the 1950s. When I was there, I came across Sergeant Mercer. He seemed vaguely familiar, but there was a lot of chaos in my life at the time so I didn’t put much effort into trying to place him. It was only afterwards, with countless hours idling around on the Atlantic Ocean that it clicked.’ I sucked in a breath and looked at my audience, but I didn’t think they were on the edge of their seats waiting for the revelation.
*
‘You were the US Army military liaison to the DEA during The Baron investigation, the expert on the ground in Afghanistan.’ Interview two was much the same as interview one, but Mercer sat military straight, staring at the wall.
‘Lieutenant Jones was pissed that her aide and her superior were so cosy. And you know how chatty people get when they’re pissed. She let it slip she was sick of turning a blind eye to your insubordination. She said she hadn’t wanted to take you after your DEA assignment went to hell and your captain, Willie Brown, was killed.
‘Captain Wilhelmina Brown, now that was a name I was familiar with, a decorated officer, a career soldier, ambitious, well respected and the sister of my partner. So I asked Commissioner Ryan, that’s my dad by the way, to make a few discreet inquiries and do you know what I discovered?’
Sergeant Mercer continued to stare at the wall.
‘The captain had pleaded her case to get the assignment. The way I see it, The Baron got Willie on board with the offer of drink, money, and his legendary charm. And where was the harm? You guys worked hard, put your lives on the line. You deserved some R and R. The two official beers that were trotted out at infrequent intervals were an insult. And the money? Willie had a brother that
could help her with that.’ I was jumping with nervous energy, my legs shaking under the table. I pushed up out of my seat and began to pace.
‘If there was one thing I learned working undercover, it’s that deals like this are very easy to get into, but not nearly as simple to get out of. Is that what happened when The Baron approached Captain Brown with the heroin? Was she not so keen on that? It was one thing to smuggle in offensive substances to the country you’re trying to liberate; it’s another to smuggle others into the land of the free.
‘And Jones’ other little snippet of information,’ I turned to face Mercer. He didn’t meet my eyes. ‘Willie’s commanding officer was none other than our mutual friend Major Hudson.’
*
‘The Baron had Captain Brown over a barrel, no way out.’ Interview three: despite his high rank, Hudson radiated the most nervous energy. Someone had removed the nylon restraint and retied his hands in front with standard cuffs. ‘She was backed into a corner and if she had to carry on, well, she needed more protection. That was where her sister came in, wasn’t it? Who better to protect Willie than her loyal little NYPD sister?’ I tapped my feet, breathed in then out. ‘And you?’
Hudson’s eyes shot up to meet me, sweat beading on his forehead. I held my breath, waiting for him to speak. ‘I want a lawyer.’
‘The MPs are on their way.’
His seat jumped back a foot. Hudson opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. I paced back and forth for two whole minutes in case he wanted to change his mind. He didn’t. I opened the door. ‘I served with Michael in Afghanistan. He was the one that recruited Willie. He said the Brits had a significant supply line of contraband and that he could move some our way for a good price. With a spook embedded and enough military support, we managed to keep the DEA’s case all over the place. They really didn’t have a chance. They had to rely on the Afghanistan experts – the army. The DEA were pointed in the direction of Afghans and Pakistanis, when all the time they should have been looking a little closer to home. The gain was substantial and the risk low. What could possibly go wrong?