“Yeah it’s me,” he said into the phone. “Look we have a problem. Those two detectives. They are getting too close. You have to send more guys. This time they’ve got to get it right.”
He looked at the phone as it went dead in his hand. Whoever was on the other end had hung up. Quickly, Bennett closed the phone down and, after blowing out a lungful of air for confidence, he walked round the corner, wearing a huge smile as if nothing was wrong.
*
Steel and McCall stepped out into a cold breeze that was brought by the west wind, but the warmth of the sun made it bearable. The clear pure blue of the sky was slightly marred by the vapour trails from aircraft in the distance.
As Steel put his leather gloves on, a homeless man dropped to the ground in front of them. Steel knelt down to help him up. His raggedy long woollen coat looked as if it had once been green, and his filthy jeans were now nearly brown. McCall estimated his age to be mid-fifties, and he had a long grey beard, shot through with streaks of copper and brown.
“Are you okay, sir? Do you need any help?” John Steel asked.
The man coughed violently and waved as if to say he was okay. McCall’s face cringed as the man sounded off another bark as if he would cough up a lung.
“No, son, thank you, I am fine, just lost my footing is all.”
Steel helped the man to his feet, then reached into his own trouser pocket and pulled out some money. He gave the man a fifty and wished him well.
As the man shuffled off, McCall smiled smugly. “I guess you know that guy probably picked your pockets just then?”
Steel smiled as he brushed himself off. “Of course he did. I wouldn’t expect anything less from Crazy Gus.”
She looked down the street to see the man running off as though he was a marathon runner, then she looked back at Steel.
“You know that guy?” McCall said in amazement.
“Yes, of course I do. Remember that time when we first met? When I went undercover? Never mind, the fact is he’s a friend.”
McCall laughed quietly to herself, as if to say I am working with a madman.
John reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He read what was on it, smiled as if he had at last got something right, then stuck it back away again.
“Do you want to share?” she asked him.
Steel thought for a moment then shook his head. “Ask me again later. For now we have a witness to talk to.”
McCall didn’t know whether to shoot him or just let his maddening behaviour go. After remembering the prospect of doing paperwork and the number of witnesses they had to talk to, she went for the latter.
“Okay, so where is this witness, the church?” McCall said, racing after Steel, who was heading for the parking lot. “And another thing, why do we always use my car?”
Steel felt pleased. He found her quite cute when she was angry, but he dared not tell her.
*
The church wasn’t far from the precinct but nevertheless McCall wanted to drive there. Besides being in a car was warmer and it shaded them from the biting wind that was starting to pick up the more the sun was disappearing. McCall parked just over the road from the old church. Its brickwork glistened as a result of a restoration project that Steel had funded.
Inside was quiet—even the noise from outside was muffled by the thick walls. McCall went in first with Steel opening the door for her. As he entered after her, Steel smiled at the sight of the priest kneeling down in the front row.
“Wait here for me, will you?” Steel whispered.
Sam gave him a puzzled look as he headed off towards the priest. “Where are you going?” she asked.
Steel nodded towards the priest. “I am off to see an old friend. Why?”
McCall could have screamed at him if they had been elsewhere. “Because I thought we were going to see a witness!”
The Steel stiffened up and adjusted his jacket, attempting to make himself presentable. “First things first, my dear McCall. Sometimes a little faith goes a long way.”
Sam bared her teeth in frustration. “Steel, we don’t have time for this!” she argued, but he had already made his way down the room. Sam waited for a few seconds before looking around to see that she was alone. She then started walking behind him—but leaving some distance between them.
The priest was in his mid-forties but wore it well: his tall broad-shouldered frame filled out his vestments nicely.
“I hope you’re not praying for my soul, Father?” Steel joked as he approached.
The priest turned his head slightly. “A bit late for that, don’t you think, you murderous bastard? Besides, one has got to have a soul in the first place.”
The priest stood up and the two men embraced like long-lost brothers. McCall’s jaw dropped, not quite understanding what had just happened.
She coughed politely as if to draw attention to herself, and the two men spun around to face a puzzled Samantha McCall.
“Oh forgive me,” Steel spoke politely. “Father Gabriel O’Donnell, this is—”
The priest stepped forwards and kissed the back of McCall’s hand. She looked up into his deep brown eyes but she didn’t see the trappings of the priest, just the man.
“So you are Samantha McCall,” Gabriel said. “Johnny has often spoken of you.”
Steel grabbed McCall’s hand and pulled her away, embarrassed. “Yeah, yeah. Okay, Mr Smooth, behave yourself, you’re meant to be a priest.”
Gabriel put his hands together as if to pray and smiled. “You look surprised he mentioned you,” Gabriel said, noticing the strange look she was giving Steel.
She shook her head and smiled. “No, I’m just surprised he has friends.”
They both laughed, leaving John crossing his arms in defiance. “Yeah, nice. Great to see you too, old friend,” Steel went on. “So where’s the girl? Locked in a dungeon, I hope?”
McCall shot Steel a shocked look, as she realised he must be referring to the girl from the courthouse who he had spoken to.
“Don’t worry, she’s safe,” Gabriel reassured him. “Actually she is in the canteen with the babysitter you sent—” Gabriel’s words faltered as he saw Steel’s face crease with anger.
Steel reached behind him to draw his Glock 33.
“God help me! But of course, you didn’t send one. Did you?” Gabriel growled at his own stupidity.
Steel shook his head and got McCall to call for backup.
They all rushed for the canteen, which was designed for the use of the congregation, and which doubled as a soup kitchen for the homeless in the evenings. McCall put her cell phone away and pulled out her custom Glock and pulled back the top slide, chambering a round.
As they burst through the double swing doors they found a short, stocky, bald-headed man trying to drag the girl to a back door. The man turned, holding the girl as a human shield. Unfortunately they were around the same height, making it almost impossible for Steel or McCall to find a target.
With their weapons trained on the man McCall raised her shield to identify herself, just in case they were about to take out a cop. But then, she realised, no way would a cop use a human shield.
“This is the NYPD,” she yelled. “Put your gun down and let the girl go.”
The man had his Sig automatic pistol held against Megan’s head and clearly had no intention of giving up.
“Tell you what, Detective, why don’t you two put yours down and you let me get out of here? If not you’ll be picking bits of the girl off of the walls.” The man laughed cockily, as if he held all of the cards.
“That ain’t gonna happen,” Sam continued carefully. “So why don’t you just do the right thing so nobody gets hurt?”
The man stuck the weapon firmly against Megan’s head, as if to show that he meant business.
All the while Steel was looking for something to shoot at: he was hoping just to injure the guy so that he could be questioned, however his main priority was of course saving
Megan.
“The interesting thing about human shields is that the person who is holding them is counting on the others to need the shield alive or uninjured.” Steel shouted, attracting a shocked look from his colleague.
“Also one other flaw in your plan is what happens to you if you do shoot,” Steel went on in a slow steady voice. “You are then open to getting your head blown off. You see there is no win-win for you really. You’re not getting out with the girl and you’re sure as hell not leaving if she dies.” Steel’s tone turned to a growl as he finished the sentence.
“Stop, for the love of God! This is a place of peace, please put your guns away!” Gabriel shouted, rushing forwards to try and reason with the man. As he approached, the stocky man extended his arm to shoot at the priest.
His first mistake.
The noise of a loud explosion filled the room, followed by the gunman’s scream, as a .357 round from Steel’s Glock disintegrated the bones in his wrist. This had the effect of directing his gun hand away from its target and releasing the fingers. The Sig pistol fell to the ground in front of Gabriel, who quickly kicked it to one side as he watched the man holding what was left of his wrist. Blood flowed freely through his fingers and spilled onto the clean floor around him.
Steel and McCall rushed forwards towards the girl, to make sure she was okay.
“Are you hurt?” Steel asked softly as he checked for blood.
She shook her head. Her eyes were fixed on the man who was writhing in pain on the floor.
“Okay, Megan, you’re safe now, this is Detective Samantha McCall, and she will look after you.”
Megan’s large watery eyes looked over at Sam and eyed her up and down suspiciously. “You said I would be safe here. How did they find me?” Megan asked angrily.
Steel looked down at the injured man, and noticed there was a police shield on his belt. “I was wondering that myself actually.”
He turned back to McCall and the others as he suddenly realised something. “You all have to go now,” Steel announced. “This guy probably has backup either en route or waiting outside already. In the meantime we are going to have a little chat.”
Megan rushed forwards and hugged Steel. “Let me stay! I will be safer here with you.” She was clearly unwilling to trust any of the others.
Steel was touched by her gesture, but gently pushed her away. He crouched down so that they were on the same level, and she wished at that moment that she could see behind those sunglasses—to see into those eyes.
“Don’t worry,” he told her. “You will be safe with them, there is nobody I trust more. Besides McCall is a bit of a badass.”
Megan laughed and wiped her eyes, then she nodded and walked over to the waiting arms of McCall.
“Sure you don’t need any help?” McCall called across, already aware that he didn’t, but making the offer all the same.
Steel shook his head as he picked up one of the plastic canteen chairs and brought it closer to the man on the ground. “Just get yourselves to safety, I will be fine.”
Gabriel, McCall and Megan then burst out of the back door, leaving John with a scared, injured detective.
“Okay then,” Steel began. “Now we are all alone, what shall we talk about? Go on, I’ll let you pick the topic.”
The cop looked up at Steel as he sat down and took off his sunglasses. At first Steel’s eyes were closed, but then, as the smile faded from his face he opened them, revealing those cold, dead, emerald-green eyes.
As the back door to the kitchen closed, the scream of the injured man was abruptly shut off from the unsuspecting world.
Outside the room, McCall turned to Gabriel, hoping he had a suggestion for a safe place where they could go.
“We can go to my friend’s parish,” Gabriel told her. “It’s out of the city—nobody will find us there.”
McCall looked concerned for a moment, and looked back towards the kitchen.
“Don’t worry,” she reassured Megan. “He has a way of finding people. Besides he is a little busy.”
THIRTY-FIVE
Tony and Tooms arrived at the morgue. Tina had called them as she couldn’t reach McCall on her cell phone. As they entered the double doors Tina looked up from her latest customer: a twenty-two-year-old man with a hole where his brain used to be.
“Hi, Doc, what you got?” Tony asked.
Tina pointed with the scalpel she was holding to a filing tray on the worktop behind where Tony was leaning. He turned and picked up the evidence bag containing the judge’s cell phone.
“That was in the judge’s purse,” the ME told them. “The damn thing keeps going off every half hour, an alarm or something.”
Tony lifted the bag up to his face and looked at the black, empty screen. “Thanks, we will get Tech to look at it,” Tooms began. “Did you find anything on the body that may give us a clue as to where she may have been?” he went on hopefully, only to have Tina look down at him with a you have to be joking look.
“The acid compromised the body,” she told them. “The bad thing is that the family haven’t a body to bury, the poor woman was almost dissolved. The killer used hydrofluoric acid, which will eat through pretty much anything. But you can’t just pick it up from a hardware store, so your killer knew someone in the chemistry game.”
Tooms nodded, a sickened look on his face.
Tony put some gloves on and took the cell from the bag and press the power button. The screen came up with all the usual apps.
“It’s unlocked,” Tony said, raising up the cell’s screen to show Tooms.
“As if she wanted us to find it?” Tooms’s question only elicited a shrug from his partner.
“Well if there is something I am sure Tech will—” Tony stopped speaking and froze when the alarm went off again, revealing a photograph of a picture over a fireplace, with numbers written on the bottom of the screen.
“So, something tells me this is mega important,” Tony said, showing them the photograph.
“Oh great!” Tooms moaned. “I mean like, we have nothing else to do and it’s nearly five, man—."
Tony shook his head and headed out, laughing at Tooms’s complaints. “Thanks Tina, you just may have broken the case.” Tony waved her goodbye as they left, listening to Tooms still yapping on, all the way down the hallway.
*
Agent Lloyd sat looking through the files Steel had requested. When he had gone to go and see his witness he had passed the list to the desk sergeant to give to her. He Knew that her federal ‘fast pass’ would move things quicker than a detective’s shield and a smile.
The fifteen case files had been delivered within two hours, but she had a feeling that the speed of delivery was due to the fact that the male desk clerk had been turned on by her seductive voice, and wanted to rush them over personally. The man—who had been in his early twenties—had left with a smile on his face and a ruby red lipstick kiss on a napkin as a memento.
As she sifted through the case files something drew her attention. Two cases stood out as career makers: one was a hit-and-run case, which had nothing to do with the one they were working on, but the second was gold. Cassandra texted Steel with the information. After a minute she got a short reply that said: Check the main witness and who wrote the lead story...THX.
After a deeper search in the file she found the witness, and a web search revealed to her surprise the journalist’s name.
“Steel, you always were a clever bastard,” she muttered to herself as she read some of the clippings from the articles.
Cassandra Lloyd stood up and rushed over to the captain’s office, and she knocked and entered. As usual, Brant was on the phone with the Chief, and the conversation didn’t seem as pleasant as before.
“Yes, Chief,” Brant protested into the phone, “we are doing the best we can... Well if you can find someone else to make this run quicker, be my guest...”
He looked over towards Agent Cassandra Lloyd, who had a smile on her
face, and her firm grip on the file she was holding suggested she had some news.
“Look, Chief, Agent Lloyd may have something,” he went on. “I am putting you on speaker.” Brant pressed a button and placed the receiver down on the desk.
“Under the request of a certain Detective Steel we got all of the case records of the judge’s legal career for the years zero to three, through to zero to five,” she began. “What we found was a case that made her career and put her in the running for being appointed as a judge. A top judge who was going places was apparently knifed to death in an alley by her own husband. Witnesses at the restaurant saw them arguing and a fight broke out. She left and he followed soon after.”
After her statement, Brant thought for a moment. “Yeah, I remember that case. Was there anything to tie that to the escapees?”
Lloyd nodded slowly, as if what she had was the case cracker. “The husband was none other than Brian Armstrong, one of our escapees. Not only that, but the prosecution lawyer was Mathews, before she was made judge.”
Brant could feel the excitement of his chief on the end of the phone, imagining the reflected glory he’d be getting as a result of Cassandra’s discovery, and he was loving it.
“Great job, Agent Lloyd!” he said delightedly.
But Cassandra waved a finger. “There’s more. Steel asked me to check on witnesses and press articles. At first I didn’t know why, but soon it made sense. The main witness was a gym teacher who saw Armstrong enter the alley then come back out later, looking anxious. He got into a taxi and drove off. What’s more, during the trial one newspaper covered the story in depth. In fact some say that their articles may have swayed the jury. It looks like McCall was right: one of them had broken out, seeking revenge on someone for destroying his life.”
There was a silent moment before the Captain and Cassandra heard the Chief quietly clear his throat. “Well done on some fine detective work, Captain,” he congratulated them. “Brant? You find Armstrong and do what you have to, to bring him in.”
False Witness (John Steel series Book 3) Page 22