The large man shook his head as he fought to get his breath. “I don’t know, I just know she had some evidence or something and that’s why her career was taking off so fast.”
At last things were beginning to slot into place slowly, but Steel knew that he needed those files. He knew that the cops he was working with wouldn’t know where they were, for if they had they would have found them by now.
John thought for a moment. He knew that the boys were searching for something to do with a painting. Maybe the painting concealed the location of a safe.
“What did you want with the reporter’s research material?” the detective asked them. “It was you two who took it, right? I remember the descriptions. Nice touch with the fake moustache by the way.” he joked.
The men were silent, but it didn’t really matter, he had what he needed. Taking the other can he soaked the ground surrounding the vehicle with more gasoline, then Steel lit the flare and stuck it into the big man’s mouth.
“You hold the flare tight. Only if he gets hurt, or you spit or drop it,” he warned, “and, well, happy Fourth of July.”
Steel walked off, leaving the two men screaming for help. His face was like stone, devoid of emotion.
The Englishman pulled out his cell phone and autodialled for Tooms, then waited for him to pick up.
“Tooms? It’s John,” he said. “Did you get anything in the office?”
There was a muffled response from the handset.
“Okay, Tooms. Meet me at the judge’s house. I think I know what we are looking for.” As he cut the call, Steel hailed a cab that was just passing by.
The driver stopped and looked at Steel as he approached.The cabbie waited until Steel had gotten to the window before asking, “Where you going to, man?”
Steel gave the judge’s address and sat back as the cabbie sped off.
As they turned the corner the night sky was illuminated by an orange glow. Steel just caught a brief glimpse of a reflection of the flames in a building’s window and he smiled top himself.
“Two less dirty cops to deal with,” he muttered with satisfaction, then rested his head on the cushioned headrest and sucked in a large breath.
He knew that this was just the beginning.
THIRTY-EIGHT
McCall followed the G wagon for what seemed like hours. At first she thought they were lost but she figured the roundabout route they were taking was a way of making sure they weren’t being tailed. The German 4x4 took turnings and directions that made no sense.
“Where are they going?” Megan asked, her voice sounding confused and excited.
“It’s a trick to see if you’re being followed,” McCall explained to the younger woman. “The challenge for us is not to be seen to be following them.”
Megan looked over at McCall with a childish grin, as if she were just hitching an illegal ride at Disneyland.
“Look, they’re parking!” Megan yelled, thrusting an arm forward, just in case nobody else had noticed. The other vehicle pulled up opposite a nightclub.
The bright lights from the club’s huge advertising monitor on the wall lit up the street.
Normally there would be the kind of queue of people that was only surpassed by a book signing from the author of that Harry Potter kid. Above the monitor the words ORION glared out in blue and red neon. Tonight it was closed, but the large screen had been left on for business reasons.
“That must be DC’s club,” McCall said as she pulled back the top slide of her gun enough to see the glint of a brass casing, then she re-holstered her weapon. As they watched, four men got out and headed down an alley. McCall figured that it led to the back entrance to the club.
“Okay, you guys stay here and wait for the cavalry,” McCall ordered as she sent a text to Tony and another to Tooms, saying: Suspects at the Orion club.
“What if the cavalry get here too late?” asked Gabriel as he looked at the girl sitting on the back seat.
“Take my car and get to the precinct and ask for Detective Bennett, he will take care of her,” McCall instructed him.
Gabriel repeated the detective’s name again, as if burning it into his memory. McCall opened the car door and got out. “Good luck, Detective. I am sure the cavalry won’t be too far behind.”
McCall looked back and winked at the priest, then shut the car door and ran across the street into the shadows.
As she leant against a doorway she tried to conceal herself at the same time as getting the best view of the club as possible.
She knew it wouldn’t be easy getting in. The place was locked up and she needed to get inside somehow. And when she got in, what then? She was alone. Damn! Where was Steel when you needed him, she wondered?
McCall felt the phone’s vibration from her jacket pocket. She pulled out her phone and saw the text from Tony, saying:
I am en route with Agent Lloyd, Steel is with Tooms at the judge’s house.
McCall sighed, put the phone away, and then got ready for a long wait.
*
The cab carrying John Steel pulled up outside the home of the late Judge Mathews. He paid and got out, telling the cabbie to keep the change.
As the yellow cab sped off Steel turned to see a bright pair of headlights. As they grew closer he saw that they belonged to a black Dodge Charger driving towards him. Its paintwork glistened as the street lights reflected from its sleek body.
Tooms parked and got out of the car, and his stride towards Steel was heavy and strong.
“McCall has tailed the escapees to a club downtown,” Tooms told him without preamble. “It’s owned by Tyrell Williams’s brother, DC.”
Steel nodded as he took in the news. He knew that she would not go in alone, not without some sort of backup.
“You know we don’t have a warrant for this?” Tooms told him. “What makes you think he will go for it?”
The British detective turned and rested a reassuring hand on Tooms’s shoulder. “Have a little faith. He will go for it. Besides we don’t need a warrant if we have his consent.”
They walked up the front path of the house and Steel rang the doorbell. It took a while for someone to answer, and eventually what appeared to be one of the judge’s daughters answered. Her eyes were puffed up from crying.
“Hi,” Steel began. “I am Detective Steel and this is Detective Tooms. Is your dad there?” His words were soft and gentle, and he gave a small smile of understanding as she just stood there for a moment in hesitation.
The girl opened the door wider and let them in. Steel and Tooms thanked her and followed her to the judge’s study, where they found Mr Mathews sitting in the chair behind the desk.
Steel knocked on the glossy white door to attract his attention, a small double tap with his gloved knuckle. Mathews looked up at them, not really registering their presence at first.
“Mr Mathews, we are here from the NYPD,” John Steel began. “We are sorry for your loss.”
Mathews just sat there, holding a photograph of his wife. Fresh tears rolled down his face.
“Have you found my wife’s killer yet?” he demanded. “Have you found that bastard Armstrong?”
Steel stepped forwards and stood in front of the desk. “We are doing all we can to catch the people responsible for your wife’s death, sir. However, we need something from you.” Steel’s voice was soft but firm.
Mathews looked up at the stony features of the black-clad cop, this strange man who wore sunglasses during the night. He looked at the coldness emanating from this man who was standing in front of him and he had the instinctive feeling that he, too, had experienced the loss of a loved one.
“Have you ever lost someone, Detective?” he voiced his feelings.
Steel clenched a gloved fist as the memories started to come back—he could almost smell the gunpowder in the air on the day it all happened. Remembered the faint cry from his mother before she was taken. Then his eyes blurred as he could see his wife, her beautiful pale sk
in glistening in the sunlight of a cloudless summer’s day.
He wanted to reach out to touch her once more but the image grew dark and her eyes clouded over. Steel stumbled backwards slightly as he crashed back to reality. His hand was slightly outstretched, as if to grasp something.
Steel gathered his wits and pulled his arm back to his side. He noticed from the reflection in the window that Tooms was staring at him, puzzled at the display.
“Yes, my w...world was taken from me many years ago,” he answered the judge’s husband truthfully. Mathews could sense the man’s pain was possibly far worse than his own, and for a moment he almost felt grateful that someone was more bereft than he was.
“What do you need, Detective?” Mathews asked.
Steel pointed a thumb backwards towards the picture over the fireplace that he had noticed on entering the room.
“We need to see the contents of your wife’s safe.”
THIRTY-NINE
The club was in partial darkness as DC had only left a few lights on. He had closed the club forthe night, even though Tyrell had said not to. However, DC figured that a fire fight and people dying would be bad for business.
No, it was easier to put a sign on the door saying it was closed because of a private party which they catered for from time to time. The clubbers didn’t mind, as he would have a ‘happy hour’ the next day to make up for it.
A long mirrored corridor brought the guests from the paying booth to the main dance floor. The nightclub was large with a huge bar that stretched along the left wall, and this had blue neon lights on the front and mirrors on the back wall. An assortment of different bottled spirits and liquors sat on glass shelving which filled the back wall and almost covered the mirrored wall space. The dance area was a glass floor that resembled something from the seventies, with its colour-changing panels. The seating area surrounded the dance floor like a coliseum, and the DJ booth, far at the back on the right-hand wall, sat high above, like a preacher’s pulpit, facing the bar. High above it all, heavy metal trusses held the lighting and speakers firmly in place.
Darius looked at his watch. It was at least an hour since they had entered the club and he was getting anxious.
“Okay, Tyrell, what now?” Darius grunted, still not convinced that bringing the teacher back with them was a brilliant idea.
“We lay low for a while,” Tyrell explained as he stood behind the bar and racked up some shot glasses. “We have another safe house. You’ll like this one, it’s out of town, in a quiet place. We bide our time, wait for things to cool down. We got money, passports and a plane out of here. All we need now is Lady Luck.”
“Sorry, boys, looks like you’re fresh out of that one.”
Everyone spun around to see McCall, Agent Lloyd and Tony, walking in with armoured vests on and their weapons drawn. McCall ushered Tyrell to get from behind the bar by waving her custom Glock towards the others.
“Okay, hands up where we can see them!” she instructed.
The four men raised them high, while Darius shot a distasteful look at Brian.
“This is all your goddam fault, man!” he growled, but Armstrong said nothing.
McCall walked over to Brian while the others covered her. Tony was holding his 12-gauge combat M870 shotgun aimed at them, while Lloyd used her 9mm Sig to do the same.
“Brian Armstrong, you are under arrest for murder and escaping police custody,” McCall said. She would read him his rights later when there was less of a crowd. She could not believe the charges herself but all the evidence pointed to him.
“I guess you know I am being set up, Detective?” Armstrong said. “What am I saying? Of course you do. You’re with them.”
McCall said nothing, she just used the handcuffs she’d taken earlier from Tony and Agent Lloyd to secure everyone’s hands. Once they were in the cuffs, McCall was able to breathe easily again, for she had been nervously anticipating trouble.
“Detective, you called for backup?”
Sam McCall looked over to see the newcomers, as her two colleagues were walking back towards her. Out of the shadows walked Officer Bennett and six of his men. The cavalry had certainly arrived, causing McCall to raise an eyebrow.
“Don’t you think you’re being a little over the top, Bennett?” she asked in surprise. “Are you expecting trouble?” She was joking, one effect of the release of tension.
“So how did you get your team together so fast?” Sam asked as she slipped her hand down slowly towards the drop-leg holster where her pistol normally sat. Bennett and the others were armed with shotguns.
“Uh, uh, Detective, step out where we can all see what you’re up to,” Bennett announced, smiling as he quickly aimed the 12-gauge. His team did the same thing.
Understanding what was happening, McCall and the others knew that they wouldn’t stand a chance against so much firepower. They would be liquidated before they could fire a shot.
“So it was you all along,” Sam said furiously. “Why? What has any of this got to do with you?”
McCall reflected bitterly that she had been betrayed by the very man she was going to send the girl to. Her heart froze. Had he gotten to the others as well, she wondered? She couldn’t say anything, for fear of letting the cat out the bag. If he didn’t mention anything about Steel and the others she knew they were safe. For now.
“So what’s the plan, Bennett?” she asked him. “We die in a shoot-out because you were too late to save us?”
Bennett smiled as he rocked his head back and forth. “Mmm, something like that, yes. But don’t worry, McCall, you and your team will get full honours.” He laughed as his team members disarmed McCall and the others, before returning to their posts around the room.
“Why did you do it, Bennett?” she asked him. “You used to be a good cop. What happened?”
Bennett thought about McCall’s question as he scratched his ear with the barrel of his service weapon. “I guess that things get done and careers get made. For years I have been bustin’ my balls doing my job and for what? Two failed marriages and nothin’ to show for it.”
She could see the bitterness in his eyes—he was a shadow of the man she once knew.
“Why did I do it you ask? Simple, Detective McCall. Because I want to have money in my pocket and I want to go places. What about you, McCall? Why did you stay whiter than white?”
She couldn’t answer. The possibility of compromising her integrity had never entered her mind. But now she considered the idea she realised she was content. She was where she wanted to be and if some day she moved up in rank, great.
“At least I’m not a dirty cop,” she told him. “You’ll go to jail for this and you know what they do to cops in there.”
Bennett laughed at the situation. “Who’s gonna report me? You, Sam? It’s me who’s got the firepower here.”
The bent cop and his team spun around as the front doors swung open and a six-man Strategic Response Unit, or SRU, came rushing in and surrounded him and his men.
“Nicely done, Detective, nicely done!”
The voice came from the shadows, and they heard the sound of clapping. McCall saw the man’s silhouette break from the darkness. It turned out to be the Chief of Detectives, Jack Doyle, in person. Sure, she was used to the Feds taking over but never One Police Plaza or 1PP.
The man was tall and well dressed in his thousand-dollar suit and had neatly styled hair. He was dressed more for a press conference than a bust. Was that why he was here, she wondered? So that when they walked out with the bad guys the press would be showing him on the front page and not them?
“Well, you and your team have done an excellent job, really,” Chief Doyle went on. “But rest assured we have got it from here.” The Chief was smiling, showing a lot of pearly white teeth. The only thing missing is the forked tongue, McCall thought to herself.
“Respectfully, sir,” she insisted, “I have some questions for Detective Bennett.”
The Chief rubb
ed his hands together, as if to calm himself. “And be assured, Detective, that we shall get those answers for you.”
Sam suddenly became uncomfortable with the situation.
Something was wrong.
Suddenly the lights went off and they were all plunged into darkness. The room became silent. Nobody dared to move, just in case scared people with guns decided to open up in panic.
The darkness was suddenly broken by a floodlight that shone in the centre of the room, engulfing them all, except for the support team in the wings. Everyone shielded their eyes from the blinding light.
A new voice rang out in the starkly lit gloom, booming out from a loudspeaker:
“The thing that I could not figure out about this whole case was why everyone was separated on the bus. Now we all thought it was planned out for an escape, but it wasn’t, was it?”
Bennett and the rest of them looked around, trying to pinpoint where the voice was coming from, all except for McCall and her team who had their eyes firmly fixed on the others. To McCall’s surprise, the Chief marched over to Bennett.
“You said it was done,” he said to the dirty cop. “You said that he had been taken care of, you idiot!” The Chief’s face was now red, betraying a mixture of anger and fear.
“Chief? It was you? You did all of this?” McCall shouted in astonishment, feeling physically ill at the thought. Chief Doyle ignored her, too busy looking around in the darkness for the newcomer.
“Who is that? For God’s sake identify yourself!” screamed the Chief.
McCall smiled and the Chief noticed. He ran forwards and grabbed her.
“You know who that is, don’t you?” he snapped. “Tell me who it is!”
The woman detective could see the panic in his eyes.
“Sure I know who it is. It’s a nightmare, a wraith, a pain in the ass!”
Doyle shoved her away from him, just as the voice boomed over the loudspeaker once more:
“It wasn’t an escape, it was an assassination. What better way of getting rid of all three men? Now if they were to be shanked in the prison courtyard it would have been too obvious and questions would have been asked, but an accident? Perfect.” The voice boomed out, making it impossible for them to get a fix on the man’s whereabouts in the shadows.
False Witness (John Steel series Book 3) Page 24