I jumped when a hand landed on my shoulder.
"Hi, Damien."
"You look worried. Are you okay?"
"Perpetually full of joy!" I squeaked.
"So... yes?" Damien frowned at me.
"Yes."
"Who were you talking to?"
"My mom."
He nodded knowingly. "I had a short talk with my buddy in gang enforcement and I have some information," he said. "Let's go back into your brother's office." He turned and walked ahead while I trailed after him. As I neared the door to the office, the large whiteboard standing in the corner grabbed my attention. Instead of following Damien, I walked over to the whiteboard and came to a stop in front of it. Folding my arms, I focused on the case information Garret's detectives had already gathered about Solomon's attack. Very little of it was new information but it was strange to see a photo of Solomon in the center and a photo of me on the side. Apparently, someone must’ve questioned if I had any motive to shoot Solomon and a large red cross nixed that idea.
"Lexi!"
I turned and nodded to Garrett as he beckoned me forwards. "Ignore all that," he said. "We have to brainstorm new ideas."
"It's normal to suspect the people who are closest to the victim," I said.
"Oh, I thought you saw the other thing."
"What other thing?" I turned back, searching for the offensive information Garrett assumed I'd read and found it in the top corner. "You suspected one of the agency guys too?"
"They all had the opportunity but we ruled out any motives."
"I'm so pleased."
"I'll let you off for the sarcasm since it's been a rough few days."
I peered at the whiteboard. "Is there anyone you don't suspect? Maddox is even on there!"
"He has a teeny, tiny motive," said Garrett, holding his thumb and forefinger an inch apart.
I didn't need to ask what that was. His motive was attached to his lips just hours ago, but he was not someone I could see as a killer. "You know anyone on this list could have killed him in a much quieter way. They wouldn't even need to knock on the door," I pointed out.
"It's just more ideas to throw around. We know now it's definitely gang-related, which narrows it down a little more."
"I should get Lucas in on this," I said. "He's really good at tracking people down."
"It wouldn't hurt."
"I'll call him and join you in a moment," I decided before tapping the agency's main number into Maddox's phone and asking to be put through to Lucas.
"Lexi? Is that you?"
"It's me."
"I tried calling you but Delgado answered your phone and said you weren't available."
"That was correct at the time."
"What do you need me to do? I finished running the rest of the names on that list and they're all dead. We've ruled out..."
"That line of inquiry is over. I don't have time to explain but I need for you to look into something else. There's a gang called the Niners based in Frederickstown. It looks like they are involved but we're not sure how Solomon got mixed up in it since he doesn’t have anything to do with them."
"I've heard of them before but we've never had any run-ins with them."
"Can you go through all the files in Solomon's office and check our database too? Any mention of them at all?"
"Done."
"Also speak with Delgado about making our files accessible to Garrett and any detective he decides to nominate."
"Okay. Solomon’s brother was on my case about that."
"He told me. Also, I want someone watching the Niner bar located on Ninth Street too."
"Also done."
"Find out everything you can about a guy named Timothy Mooch. He's connected to all of this too. He hired Mikey for the initial shooting but we don't know if he hired the second guy. Someone told him to act as a middleman. If we find out who that was, we could find out why."
"I'll know what he ate for breakfast every day during first grade by the end of the day," said Lucas.
"Great. Damien is working on the Niner connection with the Boston Police Department and it would be great if you could dig up something about that too. He transferred to Boston PD so he'll probably get much of the same information but it would be great if you could find out more. See if anyone at the agency has someone they can reach out to."
"I'll get everything."
"I know you will."
"Have you seen Solomon today?"
"No. Everyone thinks it's best if I lie low until last night's shooter is caught, so the faster you can find a connection, the faster I can get back there."
"I understand," said Lucas, his voice full of sympathy. "Leave it with me. How do I contact you?"
"Call Garrett. He'll know how to get in touch with me," I said, still avoiding the mention of my exact location. A little paranoia might have kept me safe until the answers became clear.
"Lucas is digging deeper," I said when I rejoined the three men in the office. They were watching the videotape of Mikey Gibb's confession on a small screen on Garrett's desk. Garrett waved me into a seat and I watched it with them. "What were you looking for?" I asked when it finished.
"Any hints that he knows something more," said Garrett, "but I'm pretty sure he's just as stupid as I first thought."
"Did you cut that deal with him?" I asked.
"The DA is still working on it. Anyway, we were waiting for you. Damien has some information about the Niners."
"Yeah," started Damien. "I spoke to my buddy who works in the gang taskforce unit and he says the Niners came onto their radar a few years ago; but if there was any connection to someone in Boston, it's long gone."
"How did they get on the radar?" asked Maddox.
"The unit was looking for any coalitions that might have been helping to move product. With Montgomery being one of the biggest cities near Boston, they naturally checked out this direction. The Niners came up but were discounted quickly as low-level thugs. They don't have any drug connection. I don't see how my brother is involved in anything to do with drugs anyway. Someone probably knew Mooch was a bad dude and could have set something up. It doesn't necessarily mean the Niners were directly involved."
Garrett relaxed into his seat and tapped his pen on the table. "Then where's the heroin coming from? We know its coming into town and the money in Mooch's house suggests he's the official treasurer."
"Not Boston," said Damien.
"Hmm, maybe not then, but it might be now," said Garrett.
"My buddy didn't have any new information on the Niners."
"What if it's coming in via New Hampshire or Rhode Island?" asked Maddox.
"New Hampshire doesn’t have much of a coastline and Rhode Island is too complicated."
"Connecticut then?"
"In that case, Springfield would be the most likely destination for any drug traffickers," I said. "Or they could skip Montgomery altogether and funnel it through New York State."
"We can theorize about this all day," said Garrett when an officer stuck his head around the door and said, "Timothy Mooch's lawyer wants to talk."
"Tell them I'll be right there," said Garrett. "I suggest you all watch the interview, but I don't think I'm going to get much. Why don't you wait here and work on some more theories?"
"I'll call my contacts," said Maddox.
We waited an hour for Garrett to return and by the time he did, we had several sheets of paper filled with new possibilities. It was a fruitless task, however, and my brother's return was more than welcome.
"Well," started Garrett. "That didn't go so well."
"Did you get anything?" asked Maddox.
"Anything at all?" added Damien.
"I got the usual story that he doesn't know where the drugs came from and some crap about the money being his life savings from under-the-table construction jobs that I'm fairly sure don't exist. He says Mikey is making up all the stuff about hiring him as a hit man. He asked me who in their right
mind would have hired Mikey to do a job like that anyway? He's got a valid point. I'm not sure the DA could make a strong argument that hiring Mikey was a clever decision for anyone to make."
"Is Mooch going to walk?" I asked.
"Unless I can get some solid evidence to implicate him. Now, it's turning into he said, he said. The good news is: he's definitely going down on possession and intent to distribute. He’ll be charged for the drugs and cash we found."
"Why wouldn't he talk if only to save himself?" I asked.
Garrett shrugged. "My guess is he's scared of whomever is above him on the ladder."
"We might never catch this guy," said Damien.
"Or we could wait for another attempt. Lay a trap?" suggested Garrett.
"I don't want to use Solomon as bait," I said as Garrett's phone rang. He answered it, then passed it to me.
"I have some information on Mooch," said Lucas. "He gets a lot of phone calls from a burner phone in Bedford Hills. I triangulated the location and compared it to the registered owners in the area and came up with one guy who has a connection to the Niners."
"That sounds like the boss! He lives in that area." I put Lucas on speaker so I wouldn't have to repeat the conversation play-by-play.
"Yeah? Okay, well Grant Copley called Mooch three times two days before Solomon was shot. They spoke for ten minutes, five minutes, then fifteen minutes. I also did a search on Mooch's vehicle. He bought an expensive motorcycle a year ago and he's been paying it off every month. At the same time he was getting those calls from the boss, his motorcycle loan was coincidentally paid off by a corporation, which I traced back to Copley Imports."
"That sounds like a payoff."
"That's what I thought too. There's more," said Lucas, excitement edging into his voice. "I looked for cameras in the area and all the times the calls were made. There's camera footage of Mooch giving a package to Mikey the day before the shooting. It's small and square."
"A gun?"
"That's my guess. I dug around a little bit into Mooch's background and he's not exactly a spontaneous creature. Mostly, he's at the bar or the auto bodyshop down the street, or he’s at home. He doesn't socialize very often but he definitely speaks to Grant Copley every few days, or to a Gerard Copley. I looked into Grant Copley and it turns out he owns the bar and the bodyshop as well as a bunch of other places around town. Officially, he's the landlord and all of his taxes look legit, but I noticed an anomaly on the financials regarding one building. It looks like it's fully leased, but I know the building has been empty for years. There're a ton of payments being put through every month, like rents and maintenance costs. I dug deeper. There's another building in Boston that has the same basic scenario."
"That could be how they’re laundering the drug money," I said, sitting up straighter. "That’s great work, Lucas."
"I have more on the buildings and the taxes, but I'm not the finance man. There're some photos too. Maybe you'll recognize one of them as the guy who shot at you. I think Special Agent Maddox should take a look at their financial papers. It's part of his his expertise."
"I'll get him to pick it up —" I paused as Garrett shook his head. "What's up?" I asked him.
"Maddox is in just as much danger now as you, since he's a witness too," said Garrett.
"I'll go," said Damien. "No one knows who I am."
"Damien Solomon is coming over to pick up the file," I said.
"Okay."
Garrett motioned with his head for Damien to go and he did, promising to return quickly.
"He's on his way." I looked up from the phone at the sound of a loud commotion before the same officer from earlier ducked his head into the office. "There's a delivery," he said, looking like he didn't know whether to laugh or apologize.
"Do I need to sign for it or something?" asked Garrett.
"Or something. It's in front of the building. You need to come and see it!"
Chapter Twenty
The parcel wasn't waiting in the lobby or the doorway. Instead, the delivery was suspended in front of the building by his ankles, which were duct-taped together. His wrists were behind his back, also duct-taped, and he wriggled and writhed like a caterpillar trying to emerge from a cocoon. A gun was in his hands and a large square of paper was taped to his chest.
"What the..." began Garrett, trailing off in disbelief. "Put your weapons down," he said, waving to the semi-circle of officers surrounding the struggling, upside-down man.
"Can't do that, Lieutenant. He's armed," said one of the officers, training his gun on the human cocoon.
"What do you think he's going to do?" asked Garrett. He walked over to the man and removed the gun, dropping it into a plastic bag he pulled from his jacket pocket. He stopped the man from rotating any further and pulled off the paper and walked back to us. "Someone stuck a stamp on his forehead," he said, biting back a smile.
"Who is he?" I asked.
"According to this note, he's our wannabe syringe assassin and the hospital shooter," said Garrett. He looked back at the man. "He's more upside-down than I thought he would be."
"That's the man who shot at me?" I gasped.
"Yep. Seems someone took a dislike to him, or to his contract, and decided to hand him over to us, weapon and all. Wonder how they got him up the flagpole without anyone noticing?" he asked, in what I hoped was a rhetorical question. Several uniformed officers were sheathing their weapons and puzzling about what to do with the man, who was now rotating again. A few civilians had stopped to gawk and take photos. It couldn't be long before a reporter from the Montgomery Gazette would show up.
I looked around, noticing a car idling at the curb. The only thing interesting about it was the blackened out windows at the rear. As I stared, the window cracked a little bit and a finger beckoned me. With Garrett and Maddox both mesmerized by the duct-taped man, I walked over and the window lowered. "Get in," said Duncan O'Malley.
"I'm a little busy right now," I said. "Are you enjoying the show?"
"It's very entertaining. I don't often get to indulge in such spectacles."
"Sooner or later, someone is going to start looking around for the culprit," I answered. "Hi, Donny," I said to the driver.
"How’re you doing, Ms. Graves?" said Donny.
"My day just keeps getting better," I told him before turning back to O'Malley. "My point stands about everyone's attentions will be turning away from the spectacle soon."
"Let's hope they don't waste their time. I think you'll find you have everything you need here. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to help."
I was rarely thanked by criminals and I wasn't sure what to make of that, so I said, "My pleasure."
"I'm sure it's been very difficult to be separated from your husband-to-be," continued O'Malley. "Perhaps you'll feel more comfortable in returning to the hospital now?"
"I will, but there's still work to be done. Did you get a chance to talk with..." I nodded to the dangling man. Three officers now steadied him and someone was working on untying the flagpole rope.
"Not as much as I would have liked, since I prefer to present my gifts in good condition. I think you'll find he's quite chatty."
"Oh? Your previous gift wasn't."
"That's a shame. It often happens when there isn't sufficient leverage. This man has a family. Lovely-looking wife and a pair of charming boys. Apparently, he likes them and is strongly opposed to having his house burnt down."
Cold washed over me. I might have appreciated his efforts but there was no escaping what he was suggesting. "How do you know all this?" I asked. "How did you know who was involved?"
"I recognized a signature in his style and it appears I might have considered hiring him," he said, picking his words carefully. "I think it's best that he retires now. I don't want to alarm you, but he did mention the attempt was a warning. My intel tells me there is something to do with a very large payment that is past due and if it's not made, the third attempt won't be any warn
ing."
"A past due payment?"
"Since you asked, I don't believe it's a warning to you. However, there was some mention of it being involved with drugs. That's not my line of work so I'm not as informed as I'd like to be. You should be careful with whom you share this information. I've already seen one crooked cop stroll out of this building today."
"Who was it?" I asked.
"I'm not sure of his name but I recognized him from Boston. Maybe he transferred here. He's in deep with a gang up there and that gang has connections with the Niners here. Keep the card. You never know when you might need it. Let's go, Donny," The window rolled up and the car slid away, leaving me alone on the sidewalk. I turned away from the road and blew out the anxious breath I didn't realize I'd been holding before I walked back to Maddox and Garrett. Duncan O'Malley's warning weighed heavily on me and it worried me. He intimated about a worrying link within the MPD but not in the way I suspected it. Could that link have something to do with Mooch's reluctance to talk? Or was it about hiring this hit man?
"Garrett, do you know any cops who've recently transferred here from Boston PD?" I asked.
"No, don't think so."
"It might have been very recently."
"No, why?"
I drew him and Maddox to one side, away from the gathering gawkers as the officers still struggled with the rope. "Maddox and I were concerned how the hit man got a gun into the hospital last night. I just got a tip-off that a crooked cop was seen here today. A cop linked to Boston PD."
"There's only one cop I know from Boston and that's Damien," said Garrett. He stilled as I stared at him.
"Oh, no," I said, freezing. "No, no, no!"
"Lexi? You don't think..." started Maddox.
"Is Damien behind this?" I spluttered, hardly believing what I suspected. It couldn’t be true. "What if the warning was for him? That would account for why Solomon got targeted. Anastasia lives too far away but Solomon doesn't."
Rules of Engagement (Lexi Graves Mysteries, 11) Page 21