by G. K. Parks
I didn’t like this plan. It wasn’t a plan so much as wishful thinking. But the look on Lucien’s face made me wonder how many lines he’d cross in order to get the cop to confess. And after what I’d recently learned about him, I wasn’t sure if there were any lines he wouldn’t cross.
“Is this about payback?” I asked.
He let out an exhale. “That’s probably what the douchebag’s counting on. So no, we’re going to do this civilly. I didn’t become one of the country’s top security consultants by breaking laws or bones, if I can avoid it.”
Thirty-four
We found Gallo sitting on a bench near a food truck. His partner, Officer Swenson, had just gone into the café to get a couple of coffees when we arrived. Gallo finished his chicken sandwich, wiped his mouth, and tossed the napkin into the bag.
“Hey, man, I see they finally let you out. It’s about damn time,” Gallo said. Even though I couldn’t see his eyes behind his mirrored shades, I knew he was looking at me. “How are you doing, Lucien?”
“I’ve been better.” Cross took a seat on the bench beside him. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
Gallo swiped his tongue against his front teeth, making a sucking sound. “What do you mean?” He glanced at me.
“It’s safe to speak in front of her,” Cross said.
Gallo snorted. “I doubt that. She’s dating one of the detectives who’s trying to stick it to you.”
“Answer my question.”
“How would I know what’s going on?”
“You set me up. I want to know why.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The photos that surfaced of me visiting the bank, those came from you.”
“I didn’t take them. I didn’t know anything about them until yesterday.”
Cross’s voice went deadly. “You sure about that?”
“Shit, of course, I’m sure. I’d know.”
“What about the ledger you left in my apartment?”
Gallo turned to make sure Swenson wasn’t on his way back from the coffee shop, then he looked down to make sure his bodycam was turned off. “I’m glad you found it. I thought you’d find it useful.”
“Useful?” Cross’s tone remained neutral, but his hands balled into fists. “Why are you planting evidence on me?”
“That’s not what I’m doing. I’m helping you. I’ve been keeping up with the murder investigation. Someone’s framing you. I don’t know who. I’m guessing it could be Detective Heathcliff.” Again, his gaze went to me. “He’s Moretti’s lapdog, and you remember how badly Moretti wanted to put you in bracelets eight years ago.”
“Where’d you get the ledger?” I asked.
“I found it,” Gallo said.
“Where?” Cross asked.
“At Knox’s house. After he disappeared, I performed another walkthrough before we released the house to his half-sister. When I opened it, I knew it must be his, but I couldn’t make heads or tails out of it.”
“Why didn’t you hand it over to the detectives working the disappearance?” I asked.
“It was Knox’s property. We didn’t have grounds. Nothing inside the ledger told us where he’d gone or if he’d been abducted, but I held on to it anyway, thinking I could decipher it. But I never could. It was just a bunch of random numbers and letters. Everything was coded. I would have given it to you to look at years ago, but you told me to let it go.” Gallo adjusted his glasses, his gaze fixed on Cross. “Now that his body surfaced, I thought you might be able to use it to clear your name.”
Cross gave him a wicked grin. “I intend to.”
“Good.” Gallo moved to stand, but Cross grabbed his shoulder and shoved him back onto the bench.
“We’re not done yet. What can you tell me about the murder weapon?”
“It’s a forty-five. The serial number’s been filed off. The gun itself is in bad shape. It’s starting to rust. I’m surprised the lab was able to get it to test fire. The thing looks like it might have been in the ground too.”
“How’d it end up inside one of Cross Security’s armored vehicles?” Cross asked.
“Beats me.”
“That’s your answer for everything, isn’t it?” I asked.
“What do you want from me?” Gallo snapped. “I have nothing to do with this. I’m just doing my pal a favor, and you,” he pointed an accusatory finger at me, “keep trying to jam me up over it.”
Lucien cleared his throat. His tone friendlier, more conversational. “Did you kill Trey Knox?”
Gallo jumped up. “You’re insane.”
Cross climbed to his feet. His nose practically touching Gallo’s. “Cross Security isn’t just a name. It’s my specialty. I have cameras hidden everywhere. I know you slipped the gun into the armored vehicle when no one was looking, just like I know you broke into my apartment and hid the ledger on the top shelf. As we speak, my attorney is presenting the evidence to several key figures in the police department and the district attorney’s office. We’ll see what they have to say. I suggest you provide them with better answers.”
“How could you?” Gallo took a step back. “I stuck my neck out for you. I called your assistant with the news, and you turn around and do this to me. I’m your friend. Doesn’t that mean anything?”
“How fucking stupid do you think I am? You tried to choke me out inside a holding cell.”
“I never did that,” Gallo insisted.
“What’s a matter, Joe? You didn’t have the balls to kill me? Or did Alex scare you off before you could work up the nerve?”
“You’re fucking crazy.” He glanced at me. “The both of you are lunatics.”
By then, Officer Swenson had returned empty-handed. From the way he kept his hand poised near his holster, I figured his partner’s behavior regarding our presence had made him nervous to the point he thought he should intervene.
“Lucien,” I hissed, “we should go.”
Officer Swenson maneuvered around me, allowing his back to face me. “Joe, what’s going on here?”
“Nothing,” Gallo sighed, “these two need to get their facts straight.”
“What facts?” Swenson took a cautious step forward.
“It doesn’t matter. You ready to roll?” Gallo gave my boss another hard look.
“The watch commander called. He says we should head back to the precinct. We need to get some things straightened out,” Swenson said.
Gallo edged backward, the jitters starting. He’d run. I’d seen this behavior before.
“Take it easy, Joe. This isn’t a big deal,” Swenson said. “We’ll just get back in the car and see what the brass wants. It’s only the two of us. No one else needs to get involved, right?”
“You did this.” Gallo lunged at Lucien, knocking him into the bench and over the back. Cross grabbed for him, but Gallo shrugged out of his grip and took off down the sidewalk.
Swenson keyed his radio as he raced after his partner, requesting backup, and giving his location.
“You good?” I waited for Cross’s affirmative before taking off after the two men. I’d only gone half a block when gunshots rang out in front of me. From my position, I couldn’t tell who had fired. “Dammit.”
Palming my gun, I ran faster. Flashes of my recent altercation played through my mind. Gallo grabbed a homeless man’s shopping cart and tipped it over as he ran, spewing cans and the man’s other possessions all over the sidewalk. Swenson got tripped up in the mess, but I zipped around it, catching a glimpse of Gallo darting down a staircase to the subway.
“Watch out.” I pushed my way through the crowd. Gallo fired one shot, above my head. Everyone on the stairs ducked. A few screamed. But he kept moving.
With the crowd suddenly at a standstill, I watched him descend the final few steps and hurry toward the turnstiles. He’d be gone in seconds.
“Move.” But the frightened masses remained. I zigzagged down a few steps, but I couldn’t get thro
ugh the crowd, so I pressed against the railing and slid down, gasping when I reached the bottom and was jettisoned off the edge.
In a stumbling run, I shoved my way through the turnstile, searching in every direction for Joe Gallo. The police uniform should stick out, so I searched for the dark blue. Halfway down the platform, the crowds parted like the Red Sea. That had to be Gallo.
“Where’d he go?” Swenson asked, running up beside me.
“There.” I pointed.
He gave me a wary look, noticing the gun in my hand. “Stay here and wait for help to arrive.” He moved forward at a fast clip, scrambling from one cover position to another. Since waiting wasn’t in my vocabulary, I went after them.
When Gallo reached the end of the platform, Swenson called out to him, “End of the line, Joe. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“I didn’t do it,” Gallo called back.
“I’m sure you didn’t. We just need to clear this up. Put your weapon down. We’ll take this nice and easy, okay?”
Gallo nodded. “I’m putting it down.” He held his gun out to the side, the barrel facing away from Swenson. Gallo crouched down, as if to put the gun on the ground. “See? I’m doing what you said.”
Swenson kept a bead on his partner, waiting. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you. Let’s just get this over with. Maybe we’ll get home in time for dinner. All right?”
“What are you having tonight?” Gallo asked.
“Meatloaf, I think. Why? You having something better? Want to invite me over?”
“Maybe next time.” Gallo turned his firearm upward and fired a shot at the ceiling, immediately dropped the gun, and ran for the tunnel.
A collective scream echoed and died as everyone waiting on the platform scattered in fear. In her haste to escape, a woman kicked Gallo’s discarded gun, causing it to discharge a second time through the crowd.
Swenson dove to retrieve it, just as Gallo escaped into the darkness. “He’s heading through here,” I yelled as I zigzagged through the crowd and along the narrow ledge that led into the tunnel.
Gallo had jumped down to the path beside the tracks, but he only made it a few feet before I was on him. We crashed to the ground. He tried to roll me off of his back, but I yanked one of his arms behind him. Before I could get my cuffs on him, he reared back, knocking me against the elbow-high concrete wall. Every nerve ending ignited where my back had collided with the precinct stairs. But I didn’t let go.
I wrapped my leg around his and pulled backward, opening my hips. He toppled backward, and I swung my body around, keeping a firm grip on his wrist as my legs pinned him down. He’d been through the same type of training, but I caught him off guard.
Sitting up, I tugged harder on his wrist, jerking him forward and kicking him in the jaw. His head lolled. While he was dazed, I flipped him over. But before I could cuff him, the ground beneath me began to vibrate. A blinding light headed directly for us.
“The train,” Gallo gasped.
The vibrations grew stronger, my teeth rattling. “Quick, get up.” I hauled him to his feet and practically shoved him onto the narrow ledge before scrambling up after him. The light was blinding, everything turned a yellowy-white.
Pressing my sore back against the wall, I couldn’t tell if I was shaking or if that was the ground. A horn blared, deafening me to everything but the rattling shriek. Turning away from the light, I stared at Gallo. Would he push me in front of the oncoming train?
My handcuffs remained in my hands, so I clicked one bracelet around his wrist and the other around mine. Then I pressed my back harder against the wall. If he slipped, so would I.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I held my breath as the hot, humid air whipped around me. The force made me slide a few inches closer to Gallo. He gripped my forearm as the train barreled past us. The light from the cars strobed in front of us as one car passed, followed by another, and another.
When it was over, he released my arm and sunk to the ledge. I sucked in a breath, lightheaded and dizzy. Cautiously, I unhooked the handcuff from my wrist. “Are you done?”
Gallo nodded. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’m a police officer. I never hurt anyone. I would never hurt anyone.”
“The bruises on my back say otherwise.” I clicked the other bracelet into place. “On your feet. Let’s go.”
By the time I dragged him out of the tunnel and back to the platform, Swenson and two other cops were waiting for us.
“You wanted him gift wrapped, right?” I shoved Gallo toward the waiting officers who took over.
Swenson spoke to me while the other officers took his partner into custody. “You were with Detective Heathcliff last night outside the apartment.”
“Is that a crime?”
“No, ma’am.” He led me up the stairs and back to the daylight. “Mind telling me why I got a phone call from the watch commander asking if I could bring my partner in for questioning? Does this have anything to do with that?”
“It’s not my story to tell.” When we made it to the surface, I spotted Cross waiting near my car. “Someone mentioned you noticed Gallo had been acting strangely lately. Would you mind elaborating on that?”
Swenson hesitated. “He’s my partner. We’re friends. He’s always had my back, until now. I shouldn’t say anything. He deserves the benefit of the doubt.”
“How long have you two worked together?”
“Almost three years.”
“Has he ever behaved erratically before this?”
Swenson shook his head. “I don’t understand what’s going on. This has to be a mistake.”
“One Gallo made.” Cross moved beside us. “Alex, give me your keys. I’ll call Almeada. We’ll meet you at the precinct.”
After handing Cross the car keys, I turned to Swenson. “Looks like you’re my ride.”
Thirty-five
Lt. Moretti hadn’t said a word to me since I arrived at the precinct. Instead, he remained behind his desk, reading my statement and grunting every few seconds. Whether that was disapproval was anyone’s guess. Finally, he signed off on the report and closed the folder.
“This is a shitfest. You realize the optics aren’t good, no matter the outcome.” He rocked back in his chair. “You work for Lucien Cross and you helped apprehend the cop who you and your boss have accused of framing him.”
“Gallo didn’t just frame Cross. He attacked me. He tampered with evidence. He violated chain of custody.”
“I’m sorry. Is this your office?” He held up his nameplate and glared daggers at me. “I didn’t think so.”
“Sorry, sir,” I muttered.
“Then shut up. I don’t want to hear it. I’m aware of the situation. The brass and IA have been riding my ass so hard, I have bruises.” He sighed. “I know you didn’t make this mess. I’m not sure who did. However, you’re the reason we’re sitting here right now, so don’t think you’re in the clear either.”
“No, sir.”
“Cross’s attorney presented us with surveillance footage which paints Gallo in a less than professional light. Detective Heathcliff has already spoken to me about his suspicions and yours. But Joe Gallo’s been on the force for a good fifteen years. He drove the commissioner around when his regular driver was on vacation. You understand why I’m having problems believing a man like that would take police insignia out of a superior’s car, raid my precinct, and assault a man he claims is one of his friends, let alone the commissioner’s son.”
“I don’t suppose you expected him to open fire in a subway station either.”
Moretti growled at me. “To be fair, he didn’t fire on Swenson or any civilian. He didn’t even shoot at Lucien, which is why I’m having a difficult time believing he tried to kill him.”
“Off the record, maybe Gallo didn’t want to kill him. Maybe he just wanted to scare him. Cross’s profession, along with his last name, makes him easy prey. The attack in the holding cell ensured the
bail hearing was moved up and encouraged the judge to sign off on it. Given Lucien’s capabilities and wealth, I’m surprised he didn’t get placed under house arrest with an ankle monitor instead.”
“You think Gallo was doing him a favor?”
“Not exactly, but I don’t think Gallo wants Cross dead. Honestly, I’m not sure he wants me dead either. I’ve fought him twice. He didn’t pull his punches, but he didn’t go in for the kill either. He could have.”
Moretti stared at me. “Spit it out, Parker.”
“I don’t think Gallo killed Trey Knox.”
“Do you think Cross did?”
“No.”
“Fuck.” Moretti scrubbed a hand over his face. “The entire reason this is happening is because I’m investigating Trey Knox’s murder. Now you’re telling me that despite the evidence and circumstances, we’re back to square one.”
“I’m not telling you anything. What I said is my opinion, and it was off the record. As you’ve pointed out a dozen times, Cross hired me. He didn’t kill Knox. We know Gallo broke into Cross’s apartment and planted the ledger. We also know Gallo went to Cross Security while the warrant was being served. Surveillance footage doesn’t show him planting the weapon, but Cross confronted him about that. If you push, I’m sure Gallo will admit to hiding the gun in Cross’s SUV. I don’t know where he got the murder weapon. Logic would dictate since it had been in his possession, he’s the killer.”
“But you’re not convinced.”
I shrugged. “What do I know?”
Moretti rolled his eyes and jerked his chin at the door. “Get out of my office. I have work to do.”
“What about Cross? Are the charges dropped?”
“That’ll depend on what Gallo says.” Moretti let out a huff. “But since the ledger points to Gallo emptying two of Knox’s bank accounts and you think we can get him to confess to planting the gun, it’d take a hell of a lot of evidence to shift the focus of the investigation back to Cross.”
“Thank you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he pointed at the door, “now get out.”