The Bricklayer

by Noah Boyd

  “What’s Kaulcrick doing with this?”

  “Like you said, surveillance, and I’m sure he’s getting search warrants. You’re the guy who came up with Pendaran. Now you don’t think it’s him?”

  “Pendaran was not the second guy in the Honda, remember?”

  “So maybe he’s part of the group. Is this just you being contrary or is it because an assistant director is calling the shots?”

  He smiled. “You read my file. Did it mention anything about me working well with others?”

  “Wait a minute. You’re not afraid of Kaulcrick beating you; you’re using Pendaran as a stalking horse.”

  “A stalking horse?”

  “You want it to look like the FBI is biting on Pendaran so you can look somewhere else.”

  “Next time I’m asking for a deputy assistant director who spends more time shoe shopping,” Vail said. “It has to appear to whoever’s left in this gang that the official FBI is buying the Pendaran strategy so we can sneak around and try to figure out who’s who. These people are too smart, too well informed, for us to try and fake that.”

  “We? Meaning I’m back to keeping things from my boss.”

  “If career is your choice, all you have to do is go see Kaulcrick and tell him that I’m sandbagging him. No hard feelings. It’s your call.”

  Kate considered the offer for a moment. “Tell me, what are you going to do next?”

  “Sorry, no hedging of bets. With every turn of this, there are fewer people to trust with information. What I need right now is some blind loyalty. Either you’re all the way in, or all the way out.”

  Kate sank back in her chair and sighed. “Why not? I’ve probably already been promoted beyond my level of incompetence.” She looked at her watch. “I’ve got to go. Don called a meeting that started five minutes ago. He told me to bring you along if you were done with your statement.”

  “Tell him I’m not done yet.”

  “And you’ll be—what—here brooding?”

  “I like to think of it as post-shoot-out quiet time.”

  “You sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Then I should go.”

  Vail went over to the small table he used as a desk and picked up his laptop.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the hotel. I’m going to reread the entire file.”

  “Why?”

  “The first time I read it, I was looking for Bertok. It’ll be interesting to see if I can find anything behind all the misdirection.”

  Kate said, “You’ve got to admit, it was pretty impressive how they set him up.”

  “It was, and it also gave them one very large additional benefit. Five million dollars all in one shot was a lot to expect the Bureau to pay, so they made it look like one of our own took off with two million. Then their request for three million to stop the killings didn’t seem all that unreasonable,” Vail said. “They definitely know what they’re doing. They don’t just come up with a scheme and stick to it. They continually tweak their plan, changing it on the fly. They find a chink in our armor and exploit it in the next step.”

  “I guess we’re pretty lucky to get the three million dollars back.”

  “Speaking of which, are you going to leave it there?” Vail asked.

  “Oh God, I forgot about it. A couple of the accountants were supposed to come up and count it, but they’re all on some fraud special, so it might be a day or two before they can get to it. That’s why they brought the safe up. I checked a few of the serial numbers and they are from the tunnel drop. I guess we shouldn’t leave that much money lying around.” Opening her desk drawer, she took out a piece of paper and handed it to him. “Here’s the combination. Would you mind?”

  He looked at the numbers and handed it back to her. “If it’s not here when you get back, promise you’ll give me a twenty-four-hour head start.”

  A strand of hair had fallen over her face. With a coffee cup in one hand and a notebook in the other, she tried to blow it to one side. “Only if you promise to send for me.”

  NINETEEN

  KATE QUIETLY CLOSED THE DOOR BEHIND HER AND LOOKED AROUND the SAC’s conference room. The briefing had begun and Kaulcrick shot her a deadpan glance in reaction to her tardiness. He was sitting at the head of the table, and the SAC, Mark Hildebrand, sat to his right. She was surprised to see Tye Delson there, who nodded and gave Kate a half smile. Kate also recognized a couple of the supervisors, one of which was Allen Sabine, who had the enduring misfortune of supervising not only Stan Bertok, but Vince Pendaran, the new focus of the extortion investigation. Also sitting at the table was an agent from the Evidence Recovery Team. Off in the corner, as far from the table as he could get, Tom Demick sat in a chair against the wall, trying to remain unnoticed.

  Kate pulled out a chair, and Kaulcrick asked, “Where’s Vail?”

  “He went back to the hotel. I think he just needed a little downtime.”

  “Just as well.” A young agent walked in and handed the SAC a sheet of paper, which he glanced at and then handed to the assistant director. Kaulcrick read it, setting it on the table in front of him. “Kate, we were just discussing where we wanted to go next. The evidence has become fairly strong that Pendaran is part of this.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way,” she said, “but I think we have to be careful. Remember how strong the evidence was against Stan Bertok.”

  “Okay,” Kaulcrick said, slightly annoyed, “let’s review, Kate. Pendaran had a grudge against the first victim, Connie Lysander—motive. Someone had to come up with Bertok’s name for the Pentad—opportunity. He purchased the gun barrel used in the murders with his undercover name, Galvin Gawl—means.” Kaulcrick held up the sheet of paper that had just been delivered. “And now this. Remember those documents you found hidden behind the vanity in Bertok’s bathroom, the Florida birth certificate with the whitened-out name? Well, the lab was able to remove the Wite-Out, and the Florida Bureau of Vital Statistics has confirmed the original document was applied for using the name Galvin Gawl—method. And there’s been a strong indication from the beginning that the Pentad has been operating with inside information. I think we’re safe in assuming that Pendaran is part of this.” He turned to the AUSA. “Miss Delson, I assume that’ll be enough to obtain search warrants for his apartment and car and anything else we’d like to get a peek at.”

  “It’s more than enough, but I’m not sure that the ‘inside information’ is legally quantifiable. It could be argued that everything the Pentad knew about this case, they could have gotten through criminal experience, books, movies, or newspapers. The defense could easily demonstrate that at trial. Let’s not give them any help. Everything else is very strong.”

  “As long as we can get a search warrant, you can leave out whatever you want,” Kaulcrick said. “Now, does anyone have any ideas how we can identify the one other member of the gang, the one driving the Honda?”

  Hildebrand said, “Salton and Pendaran are the only known connections to him. Since Salton’s dead, Pendaran is our only hope. Once we take him into custody, we can threaten him legitimately with the death penalty. If he didn’t commit any of the murders, we can offer him a deal to give him up.”

  Kaulcrick turned to Tye. “Which means we’re going to want those search warrants as soon as possible, but I’d like to give surveillance another twenty-four hours to see if he’ll lead us anywhere or to anyone. How’s this time tomorrow look?”

  She looked at her watch. It was almost 6 p.m. “We’ve got plenty of probable cause for nighttime entry. Have an agent in my office at four p.m. tomorrow to swear to the affidavits.”

  Kate leaned back in her chair. There seemed to be an undercurrent of self-congratulation in the room. The mood was almost giddy. Pendaran was going to be charged in the case even though the evidence had unfolded in a manner not unlike it had for Stan Bertok. Yet no one seemed wary of that. The FBI was finally about to win,
and everyone could claim to be part of the success. Kate suddenly realized that she was developing Vail’s need to look beyond the obvious. Because everything had fallen into place so neatly, Pendaran, she decided, was in all likelihood not involved.

  VICTOR RADEK SAT on the motel bed trying to ignore the room’s sour odor, which was made worse by a cheap, flowery deodorizer. A box containing the remaining two million dollars sat next to him. Two million dollars and he had to hide in this dump. He punched the box relentlessly until he noticed that his knuckles had started to bleed. Then he began pounding it harder.

  How had this happened? He closed his eyes and could hear that agent’s voice on Salton’s cell phone, mocking him, telling him he’d now have to rename the Pentad because there was one less of them. He was the problem, Radek decided. He had failed to die in the railroad tunnel. And he had somehow killed Lee, taking back the three million dollars they had worked so hard for. There had to be a way to get that money back. He considered the possibility of another high-profile murder, but by now they had identified Salton, meaning they were one step closer to finding out who he was. There wasn’t enough time to plan another murder. And with Salton gone, he doubted that any of the remaining members of his gang could pull it off. Again he could hear that agent’s voice, so insulting, so defiant—he was the one who had brought the FBI one step closer to finding him. Before Radek could make any move to recover the three million dollars, he had to kill him.

  IT WAS A LITTLE after 5 a.m. when Kate was awakened by a knock on her hotel room door. Before she could get up, a second one came. She reached for her automatic on the nightstand. As quietly as possible she walked to the door, not wanting to alert whoever was on the other side. Through the peephole she saw Vail and unlocked the door.

  She sat down heavily on the bed and put her gun back on the side table. “Guess you were still sleeping,” he offered as an apology.

  She was wearing a short nightgown and noticed that Vail had discovered its thinness. “You should see me in this with my hair combed and some makeup.”

  A quick flash of red rose and disappeared from his face. Even the slightest embarrassment in him pleased her. “I’ve got time,” he said.

  “Is that why you came?”

  “If I say yes, what happens?”

  “Sorry, no hedging your bets.”

  “Ahhh, yes,” he offered.

  “Oooo, so close, but not quite sincere enough.”

  He walked over to a chair where she had left her robe and handed it to her. “In that case…”

  She pulled the robe on and tied the belt loosely. “You don’t look like you’ve been to bed.”

  Vail rubbed the stubble of his day-old growth. “Not yet. I just finished rereading the file.”

  “And?”

  “What’s the most logical way to investigate this case?”

  “It’s a little early for a pop quiz, but I don’t think it’s by going after Pendaran. I don’t know, I guess you have to dig into Salton’s history, see who he was tight with inside and look for anyone he might have hooked up with when he got out.”

  “That’s logical, but it’s one of those things where there are just too many possibilities. While he was in prison, thousands of prisoners came and went.”

  “I suppose then you have to go back to investigating the murders, separately and as a group.”

  “And that’s what the Bureau’s been doing. But it’s not working, because whoever is responsible was using that investigation to lead us to Bertok and Pendaran. The murders are not the key.”

  “Then what is?”

  “The drop locations. While the selection of the murder victims can be almost random, the drops are much more critical because they are the most vulnerable phase of the extortion. They’re the only time when the Bureau and the criminals have to be in the same place at the same time, so the Pentad has to be familiar and comfortable with them. There are three locations. The Arizona highway, which is just too long to reveal anything. And we know that the group is centered in Los Angeles, so for them to have knowledge of that railroad tunnel and the area in general doesn’t help us at all. But the naval prison in New Hampshire may be a way into this.”

  “Do you think that one of them was a prisoner there?”

  “It’s been closed for thirty years, so probably not. But that island is more than a prison. It’s a naval base with a lot of civilian employees as well. It has a hospital, a hotel, and everything in between. It’s a small city.”

  “How does that narrow it down?”

  “It doesn’t. But with Salton identified, it looks like there’s a reasonable chance we’re dealing with career criminals. Federal ex-cons. New Hampshire is a small state, less than a million people. Social Security numbers issued to residents begin with 001 to 003. Can you get ahold of someone at the Bureau of Prisons and get a list of everyone with a New Hampshire Social Security number who was released within the last year from Marion? Then two years, up to the last five years. Five lists.”

  “I assumed you checked Salton’s.”

  “New Jersey.”

  “That sounds like it still could be a lot of people. With just the two of us sneaking around, it could take forever,” Kate said. “I assume you’ve come to me with this because we are going to be sneaking around.”

  “I prefer ‘parallel investigation.’ It’ll sound better at your trial board.”

  “So what do we do with this list of people with New Hampshire Social Security numbers?”

  “Our target extortionist is now living here, and if I’ve learned one thing about Los Angeles, it’s that you can’t live here without driving. When you get the list of the New Hampshire names, run them for current California driver’s licenses.”

  “That makes sense. I’ll get on it as soon as I can get dressed. What will you be doing?”

  “Well, I could stay and watch.” She started pushing him toward the door. “Then I’ll be sleeping.”

  EVEN THOUGH HALF AWAKE, Vail let the phone ring three times before he reached for it, hoping it would stop or go to voice mail. “Hello,” he said, trying not to reveal the sleep in his voice.

  “I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Kate said.

  “Funny.” Vail looked at his watch; it was 10:30. “What’s up?”

  “For one, the Bureau of Prisons. Fortunately, they’re three hours ahead of us, and I got them to run the New Hampshire numbers. Then I had those names checked for California driver’s licenses.”

  “How many?”

  “Fourteen.”

  “That’s more than I would have liked, but we can probably narrow it down by city, age, crime, anything like that.”

  She smiled to herself and hesitated a moment to enjoy what she was about to say. “No need.”

  Vail pulled himself up to a half-sitting position. “Aren’t you the little overachiever this morning?”

  “I called the agent in charge up in Portsmouth, where the first drop was. They’ve been quietly conducting an investigation up there since Dan West was murdered. The big employer there is the shipyard. I had them check their list of old employees, and guess what?”

  “One of your fourteen worked there.”

  “Worked there as a welder when he was eighteen. Before he went to prison the first time. Victor James Radek. White male, thirty-eight years old. Released from Marion nine months ago. Did fifteen years for robbing an armored car. Supposedly he was the brains behind a gang that actually hit eight different cars, but the government could prove only the one. None of the money was ever recovered. He was incarcerated in Marion at the same time as Salton.”

  “That’s nice work, Kate. For a—”

  “Woman?”

  “I was going to say deputy assistant director, but woman works equally well.”

  “Apparently your tongue is wide awake.”

  “We can start with the address on his driver’s license.”

  “I’ll pick you up in a half hour,” Kate said.

&nbs
p; WHEN VAIL GOT into the car, she handed him a container of coffee. “Thanks. Anyone going to miss you in the office?”

  “They’re too busy congratulating one another about Pendaran.” She handed Vail two different photos of Radek. “He was arrested three months ago by Alameda PD for DUI. They e-mailed that to me after I talked to you. The other’s from Marion.”

  Vail took a long look at the mug shots of Victor James Radek, memorizing the inner trapezoid of his features, from the outer corners of his eyebrows to the underline of his lower lip. In the local arrest photo, anger had reduced his eyes to slits and his lips were drawn back in defiance. His expression was that of an experienced criminal who didn’t like being caged no matter how briefly. His shoulders filled the frame, and his lean jawline suggested that he was not only fit, but capable of explosive brutal force.

  His prison photo was different. He had been in the system for a while when it was taken and had learned that invisibility was the surest path to early release. Prison officials referred to it as “Caspering” after the cartoon ghost who was almost invisibly transparent while just trying to be everyone’s friend. Radek’s expression was as neutral as humanly possible. And there was something about the production quality that left the photo generically stark, washed out not only in color but in depth, eliminating any other clues to the person behind the mask. Vail looked a little closer and thought he could detect the slightest smirk at the corner of the convict’s mouth, as if the world were about to end and he was the only one who knew about it. “Sounds like you don’t think Pendaran’s involved.”

  “At that meeting yesterday, I listened to the evidence against him, and it suddenly came to me that this is Stan Bertok all over again. Radek and his merry men put this in place just in case we saw through Stan and the suicide. I was surprised that Tye Delson didn’t question it. I thought she was a little smarter than that.”

  “Maybe she was embarrassed because she’s the one who first came up with Pendaran’s name.”

  “You’re making excuses for her? You know what that’s a sign of, don’t you?”