“We’re going nowhere,” Sam said. “The girl clammed up like somebody pulled out her tongue, and all she wants to do is go back to Alaska. Her family is getting her a ticket, and she’ll be gone tomorrow. Markowitz didn’t find anything at the Donut Shop. Nothing. And the two punks aren’t saying anything either. Markowitz says we’ll have to kick them loose tomorrow.”
The captain stood benevolently over them with his arms clasped behind his back. He rocked back and forth on his heels and toes and reminded Sam of his grade-school principal. Such a look usually meant he was going to get out of the office without much punishment.
“Well, that’s a shame. Although I disagreed with your procedures, it was still a good effort.”
“Can of worms,” Sam said. “Everything on that street turns out that way. You know,” Sam said, trying to recall the sincerity he used with the grade-school principal, “you kind of got me thinking. A change of scenery might not be such a bad idea. Maybe Queen Anne or Magnolia, someplace like that.”
“Well, you let me know if I can help,” the captain said, continuing his agreeable tone.
“Thanks,” Sam said. “Do you want to see the report when I finish?”
“Oh, just drop it in the box. It’ll get to me eventually.”
The captain smiled and walked away. For some moments neither Sam nor Markowitz said anything. When it seemed certain the captain would not return, Markowitz slowly twisted his neck so that he could see the door, then untwisted it.
“What the hell was that all about?” Markowitz asked.
“That was about your worst nightmare. ‘Big guy, slicked-back hair’ mean anything to you?”
“Captain Russell?” Markowitz asked.
After Sam told him what had happened in the captain’s office, they both slumped into their chairs. Sam could think of nothing more to do. His mind, blank and used up, refused to focus on the next step—refused, for a time, to even acknowledge that there must be a next step.
Markowitz reached into the wastebasket and pulled out the crumpled statement.
“You know, Wright, I think the captain might just have answered your question.”
“What question?” Sam asked.
“Whoever these people are, the captain included, might just be stupid enough to do that deal tonight. If he thinks we’re going to drop this, and I think that’s what he thinks, they might just have this little party after all. We have to find a way to crash it.”
“How?”
“Don’t know yet. I need to talk to the kid again.”
“If this kid knows so much, why doesn’t he know what happened to Alberta?” Sam asked.
“I don’t know.”
“What about Rutherford? Did you ask him?”
“I did, but he won’t talk. That kid is bad news.”
“So what do you think, Markowitz? We’ve got enough now to go to the Feds? What do we know about this stuff?”
“You’ve been watching too many movies, Wright. We don’t need them to screw this up. We’re quite able to do that ourselves. Besides, it is now 5:30 in the afternoon,” Markowitz said as he looked at his wristwatch with exaggerated motions, “and for all meaningful activity, the federal government is closed for the day. We don’t have time to get that show on the road.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“I guess I am. Hey, what is this? You don’t sound too enthusiastic all of a sudden.”
“I’m so excited I can’t see straight,” Sam said. “I just wish it were over.”
“Well, it isn’t over, and it’s not going to be over for a long time. You’d better get used to that. Even when it’s finished, it’s not going to be finished. You know what I mean?”
“I’m beginning to understand.”
“I hope so. You’re the one who got me into this mess. Now you write the report and give the captain some hocus-pocus about uncooperative witnesses and victims. I’ll go see how badly our Mr. Jack wants to walk. An hour enough time for you?”
“More than enough. Want me to meet you back here?”
“I don’t think so. How about A deck? I’ll check out a car and wait for you down there.”
“Where are we going?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“I already checked out a car,” Sam said.
“Turn it in,” Markowitz said. “I want everyone to think your day is over. I’ll get us another one and meet you on A deck.”
Sam sat at the typewriter in the patrol write-up room and banged out the report. The uncooperative victim did not wish to prosecute and declined to provide information about the conduct of the suspects. The suspects, who also wished not to be prosecuted, declined the invitation to confess. The suspects were booked into jail for “suspicion of assault.” The crime scene and the follow-up investigation were turned over to Detective Markowitz.
He was certain that within a few hours, sooner perhaps, the report would work its way up through the ranks and would find what everyone who read it would believe to be its final resting place. That was what he wanted. About that time Sam hoped there would be a good deal more to add. It had to happen soon. What if it didn’t happen? What if it did?
He took the report into the office and dropped it in front of the sergeant who had desk duty. Sam had worked for him years before. The sergeant picked up the report and tilted back in his swivel chair.
“Is this the assault at the Donut Shop?” he asked. He quickly scanned the report to see if he needed to pay attention.
“Yes,” Sam said. “But the victim won’t cooperate. We have probable cause, but without her help, we don’t have a case.”
The sergeant nodded his head and decided to read the report entirely. Sam sat down in the chair across from him and waited. When the sergeant finished the incident report, he picked up the officer’s statement. Before looking up again, the sergeant signed the report and pushed the pages across the desk to Sam.
“It was good work anyway. Got an overtime slip for me to sign?”
“I’m going to let this one go. The captain chewed me out already for busting into the basement without waiting for backup. I don’t think he wants to see an overtime slip.”
“Judgment call. No right way. You make out an overtime slip, I’ll sign it.”
“I appreciate that. Next time.”
Sam gathered the paperwork and tapped it into a neat bundle. When he got up to leave, the sergeant resumed his tilted position.
“You still writing those poems?”
“Sort of,” Sam said. He was surprised that his old boss would remember. “They amount to about as much as this report.”
“I read some once. Seemed pretty good to me. Only time I ever had a poet work for me.”
Sam took the stairs down to A deck and opened the metal door into the garage. There was no activity on this level. The gray concrete walls absorbed most of the light from the sparsely placed light bulbs anchored over the center of the aisle. He couldn’t see Markowitz.
The headlights of a beige Dodge Dart flashed on and off at the far end of the floor, and Sam headed that way. He saw a reflection of light from Markowitz’s glasses as Markowitz reached over to the passenger door and pulled up the lock. There was barely enough room between cars for Sam to open the door and squeeze in. Two shotguns, with their stocks side by side on the floor, pointed toward the ceiling. Markowitz pulled aside a box of shells on the seat as Sam sat down.
“Going hunting?” Sam asked.
“Fishing. I thought these might come in handy.”
“They usually do. So what’s the plan?” he asked.
“That’s what we need to talk about. Young Jack may have earned himself his walking papers. He said five kilos of heroin are on board a ship here.”
“Five kilos. How much is that worth?”
“I don’t know. More than we’d ever make.”
“Which ship is it on?”
“Well, you see, he doesn’t know. Now don’t panic.” His raised hand
held down Sam’s expected response. “He said it’s Asian dope, so I called the Coast Guard. There’s only one ship here from Southeast Asia. The De la Cruz—Panamanian flag. It got here last night. Last stop was Thailand. It’s anchored off Harbor Island right now. That’s got to be it.”
“And if it isn’t? What about a Japanese ship? There have to be a bunch of them.”
“Do you want to listen to the rest of this?”
“I’m listening.”
“The kid says they have to do this deal tonight. He’s not sure why, but there has to be a reason. So I checked into it. The De la Cruz is scheduled to dock at Pier 43 in the morning. It has one day to unload, and then it’s out of here. I don’t think they want to bring the stuff onshore. The kid says that these deals always happen out in the Sound. Buyer and seller each have a boat and they meet out there. The kid says they do it in open water so they can spot anybody coming.”
“How does he know this?”
“He’s been in on three deals. This is supposed to be the biggest by far. They used Abbott’s boat before. Pierre is the buyer. The kid doesn’t know who the sellers are—he’s never seen them—but I think we have an idea who they might be. The deal goes down on the sellers’ boat, and Pierre is the only one who goes on it.”
“Here’s the tricky part. The kid says they never come back to Seattle. Last time, they landed in Bremerton. But they might go to Everett or Tacoma. We don’t know. We can’t take a chance on losing them. We’ve got to get close without spooking them. If they dump the stuff over the side, we’re dead in the water.”
“So how do we do that?” Sam asked.
“I figured we could use Harbor. They have a couple boats. We won’t tell them what’s going on until we get everybody together. Then nobody leaves. We follow the sellers’ boat out from the De la Cruz and sneak up on them when they meet.”
“You’re kidding, aren’t you?”
“No. If they take off, we’re out of luck. But the weather is so lousy we might have a chance.”
“How many bad guys do you think will be there?”
“I’d guess five or six,” Markowitz said.
“What happens if there are twenty?”
“There won’t be. Too many eyes. Too many mouths.”
“But if there are?”
“We call the Navy. Look, if you have a better idea, sing out.”
Sam thought and thought, but he didn’t sing.
“By the way, here’s an interesting bit of information. When the boat lands, guess who’s waiting for them with a car? Robert J. Morris—the same guy Diane talked about. The kid thinks Morris might be on board Pierre’s boat tonight instead of waiting on land. He thinks they might be a little shorthanded.”
“What about us?” Sam asked.
“We’ll have enough with the Harbor guys. We could call Murphy, too,” Markowitz said. “She ought to be part of this.”
“That’s the only good idea you’ve had so far. Stop at a phone when we get out of here. I’ll give her a call. She can meet us at Harbor.”
“Do you know her home number?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you might,” Markowitz said.
Sam let Markowitz’s thoughts pass without comment as they drove out of the garage. It was raining hard again. The wind, swirling around buildings, blew rain in all directions. With the windshield wipers at high speed, Markowitz headed up the steep hill on Cherry Street. His tires spun on the slick pavement until he eased off the gas pedal. It would take more than a day to wash away the dirt and oil accumulated since the last rain.
“No need to hurry yet,” Markowitz told himself aloud as though he might forget if he didn’t hear the words.
Chapter 37
Somberly the deep-throated engines of the two police boats murmured a low cadence as they pulled away from their dock on Lake Union. Katherine and Sam were in the first boat with the Harbor sergeant and two officers. Markowitz was in the second with the rest of the Harbor crew. A third, smaller boat, which usually patrolled Lake Washington, remained tied up at the Harbor dock. The Harbor sergeant had locked the office doors and left no one behind.
When Sam had called an hour earlier, it was not the type of call Katherine had been expecting. A drug raid, tonight, Pierre and Captain Russell. Of course she wanted to come, but what about Maria? “Maria will be all right,” he said, thinking he knew what she would say. “No one knows she’s there.” He didn’t have a clue what she wanted to say.
Katherine explained to the girl as calmly and nonchalantly as she could that it would be a little longer before she could talk to her father. Maria seemed relieved rather than disappointed. Katherine found a blanket for her to use on the couch, opened the refrigerator and pointed out the food, and turned the television on to an old movie. She decided that everything else would be up to Sam and Maria.
Katherine looked at her watch as they cruised into the locks that connected the fresh water of Lake Union with the salt water of Puget Sound. It was almost nine o’clock. The latest rain squall had stopped, and she opened the cabin door and walked out on the rear deck. It was not long before Sam joined her. She felt strange to see him in a way that he did not yet understand. He would soon understand.
“I’ve seen boats lined up twenty deep to get through here,” Sam said. “Doesn’t seem to be a problem tonight.”
“No.”
“We’d go to the head of the line anyway. I get to do that with my kayak, too.”
“Do you think they’ll actually do this tonight?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I hope so. At least that’s what I think I hope.”
“They’re not very happy you haven’t told them what’s going on.”
“You mean the Harbor guys? They’ll be all right. They know the routine. They’ve all been on raids before.”
“You seem to know most of them.”
“Some of these guys are in Harbor to lie low for a while. You shoot somebody, you go to Harbor.”
“You mean they’re here because they shot somebody?”
“No. Not all of them anyway. Turner was in the paper about a year ago. Did you read about him?”
“No.”
“A few too many complaints about his martial arts talents—judo, or jujitsu, or something like that.”
“Not much judo you can do out here,” Katherine said as the boat edged slowly forward into the locks.
It was Sam’s idea to redock at Jefferson Street. It was close to the Panamanian ship, but still out of sight. None of the Harbor crew was aware of its virtues. The two boats pulled in carefully together and tied up at the dock. All hands crowded into the cabin of Harbor 1. Markowitz stood in the doorway.
“Gentlemen and lady,” Markowitz began as though he were in front of an academy class teaching Homicide Investigations, “it’s possible that a drug deal is going to go down tonight. We have an informant who told us that a substantial quantity of heroin has been smuggled onto a ship called the De la Cruz. She’s anchored off Pier 43. Wright and I scouted her out from Harbor Island. We think the heroin will be transferred to a small boat around midnight.
“Wright and Murphy stumbled across this mess investigating a homicide, and that’s how I got involved. Some of these people let a little baby starve to death in a hotel on First Avenue. We think they probably killed the mother, too. It all ties together with this drug deal. As you can see, we’ve kept this out of normal channels. There’s a reason for that. We think some of the bad guys might be cops.”
A hiss of profanity rose above the noise of the idling engine like escaping steam.
“How sure of this are you?” the sergeant asked.
“We’re not sure of anything. We’re not sure that heroin is on the De la Cruz; we’re not sure that even if it is, the deal will happen; we’re not sure that if the deal happens, we can get close enough to do anything about it. And we’re not giving out any names until we are sure.”
Again there was silence as
Markowitz let the sailors drag their reluctant minds up to the next level. Suddenly a ferry horn shrieked in the terminal next to them, and everyone, in varying degrees and attitudes, jumped. Shamefaced, each looked around to see how the others had reacted.
“Christ almighty,” the sergeant said in his dry voice, “must be some new guy on the horn.”
“I’d like to grab him by the horn, all right,” Turner said.
For a few moments they forgot the De la Cruz and all its uncertainties as they laughed at themselves and each other. It was not long, however, before the wake from the departing ferry made its way through the swells and rocked their boat so that the side bumpers rubbed against the dock and resonated a complaint.
“So what do you have in mind here, Markowitz?” the sergeant asked.
“Once they transfer the dope to the small boat, they’re supposed to meet up with the buyers out in Elliott Bay. We don’t know where, but somewhere in deep water. That’s where we want to surprise them.”
“How do we do that?” the sergeant asked.
“We thought with the weather as lousy as it is, we might be able to sneak up on them. If we run without lights, we could follow them without being seen until they meet. Then we’ll move in as quietly as possible. We think there will only be four or five suspects, and they’ll most likely be inside the cabin. They won’t stand outside with the money and dope in this weather.”
“We can follow them all right, and we don’t have to be very close. Radar,” the sergeant said and pointed to the oscillating screen above their heads. “But they’ve probably got it too, and they might be real curious when we start tagging along.”
Markowitz looked at Sam and then Katherine. Their plan seemed to be sinking underwater before they even started, and their silence was a sure sign that none of them had a life raft nearby.
“What about the dinghy?” Turner asked the Harbor crew. His eyes did not include the three who had already shown their incompetence. “If we could get close enough without spooking them, we could drop it over the side with a couple of guys in it and sneak up on them.”
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