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Authors: P. T. Deutermann

Cam - 03 - The Moonpool (33 page)

BOOK: Cam - 03 - The Moonpool
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“Mmm-hnnh.”

Then the connection was broken. I made sure by punching off the speaker’s power button. I’d been nearly undone one time by a speakerphone I thought was off. I looked over at Ari.

“If that’s
not
Carl Trask’s body in that container,” I said, “then you’ve got to get an ID of some kind.”

“NRC nuclear medicine people are working on that,” he said. “We’re trying to find something in the physical security office which might have Trask’s DNA on it—coffee cup, a jacket with a hair or two, gloves, you know. If we can do that, they think they can get a core sample from the body.”

“A core sample.” I had visions of the major’s horse syringe on the end of a long broomstick.

“He won’t feel a thing,” he said with a shrug. “The bigger problem, for us, is the unauthorized access issue. I explained that to you, I think.”

I nodded. “Pardee here is a computer science expert,” I said. “If you’d care to walk him through your access system, maybe he could give you a fresh viewpoint. Tony and I have to go back to Southport to meet with the marina’s insurance agent.”

“Appreciate any help I can get,” he said to Pardee.

“Remember the redhead we brought with us that morning at your house?” I asked.

“Indeed.”

“She’s both a computer expert and someone who’s apparently well versed in penetrating federal security systems. I think the feds have her right now. Why don’t you suggest to Special Agent Caswell that they put her on the problem, too.”

“She’s back in custody?” he asked.

“Well, we think so,” I said, ducking a detailed answer. “If he gives you a categorical no, I’d be interested to know why not.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll pull that string for you.”

At that moment, his secretary knocked on the door to tell him that Dr. Petrowska and her assistant were waiting to see him. That was my cue to get gone.

I told Ari that once we got out from under the boat mess, maybe we could take a look at the people who could have gained access to the moonpool, other than Trask. I suggested a records search, not interviews, something we could do away from the limelight.

“I’ll see if I can arrange that,” he said. “The NRC reliability
program people are doing that, of course, and the Bureau types are looking over their shoulders.”

“I understand, and we don’t want to tread on any toes. Can’t hurt. I think.”

He barked a laugh. “What could possibly go wrong, as you are so fond of saying.”

As we went out, La Petrowska gave me an annoyed look.

“Just what we need,” she snapped. “More unqualified interference.”

“Seems like what you do need is some qualified American management up at the moonpool,” I said. “Isn’t all that stuff supposed to stay
in
the pool?”

Her eyes blazed and I thought she was going to take a swing at me. The man with her grabbed her forearm and pointed her into Ari’s office. I recognized him as the guy I’d seen on the ferryboat, coming back from Carolina Beach. He turned around as I left and gave me a perplexed look, as if he were surprised to see me there. What the hell was that about, I wondered. I asked the secretary what his name was, and she said it was Dr. Thomason, and he was a Ph.D., but that was all she knew.

 

Tony and I had lunch at the deli and, on the way out, ran into Sergeant McMichaels. He stopped to talk.

“Heard you had an excellent adventure last night,” he said.

“Word does get around,” I said. “We’re lucky to be standing here.”

“There was a river pilot on board the container ship,” he explained. “They all live around here. And it was deliberate?”

“We think so.”

“And it was Brother Trask at the helm of the other boat?”

“That’s who set up the rendezvous point, which was the point of all the number strings in the note you brought me. He arrived going at full speed, drove over the top of us, and kept going.”

“So if I happen to see him again, he is, what do the federals call them—a person of interest?”

“If I see him before you do, he’ll be ER-bound.”

“Tsk-tsk, Lieutenant,” he said with a grin. “That would be vigilante talk. We’ll have none of that in our happy little metropolis.”

“I’ll take him out into the county,” I said. “Then I’ll beat the shit out of him. The Bureau’s been cut in on what happened, by the way.”

His expression became serious. “I am hearing some truly strange stories coming out of the Helios power plant,” he said. “You would not be involved in any of those goings-on, would you?”

“Tangentially, but our focus is something else. Our Bureau has invited us to butt out of the other matter, as it were, and we’re obliging.”

“Our Bureau, indeed,” he said. “Oh, there’s something else.”

We took a few steps away from the busy entrance to the deli for some privacy. “There’s an impious young lad in this town who has been, as they say, talking trash in your direction.”

“Ah, that would be Billy,” I replied.

“Yes, it would. Billy Summers. Previously employed by the good colonel at Helios, and now back on the dole and unhappy with that situation.”

“Which he thinks I caused.”

“He does, indeed. Working himself up to doing something about that, apparently.”

“He have the moxie for it?” Tony asked.

McMichaels shrugged. “He’s like a fear-biter dog. You never quite know what Billy Summers will do. It sounds like all talk, but then he can strike out. He is known to us, and we don’t much care for the lad, truth be told.”

“I appreciate the heads-up,” I said. “Unless he’s the kind to take a rifle shot through a lighted window, I think we can handle Billy.”

“He was once accused of taking liberties with an underage child. Never proved, but he’s very, very sensitive about that. If it ever comes to fisticuffs, mention of that will perhaps cloud his judgment.”

It was my turn to grin. This was very useful information if I ever had to duke it out with Billy. If you could get your opponent to lose his temper, the fight became yours to lose. “I’ll remember that,” I said. “Say something like ‘short-eyes.’ ”

“That would probably do it,” he said. “And, Lieutenant: If you’re going to indulge in any more adventures, a word in advance to me would be greatly appreciated.”

“Will do, Sergeant,” I said. “Hopefully we’re done with adventures. At least in Southport. Where in Boston did you come from?”

“Chelsea,” he said. “Got tired of all those taxes.”

 

We met with the insurance agent and the marina owner. The agent was wriggling hard to get out of paying the bill, but that full-value-replacement-cost clause was fairly self-explanatory. They wanted to see the results of the police investigation before writing a check, and there was nothing we could do about that. I asked if we could get another boat. The marina owner said sure; the insurance agent said absolutely not. For the moment, we were in a boat-free zone.

But not idle. I had the beginnings of an idea about where Trask might be hiding out, assuming he was still in the area. The problem was, Trask’s whereabouts did not relate, as best I knew, to what had happened to Allie. The man had tried to kill us, so we had a score to settle, but surely the Bureau was searching hard for Carl Trask, and didn’t need us interfering with that, either. Tony suggested I call Creeps and tell him my idea, but I decided to just lie low for the moment. We went back into town to get new cell phones, and then to the beach house to check messages and look at those Helios visitor logs again.

In the event, Tony had to go back to Triboro to close up two cases that were overdue. Pardee was helping Ari over at the plant, which meant I’d have at least one guy in the area as backup. I told Tony to call me once he got his stuff squared away; I wanted him to run down a couple of things in Triboro relating to Allie’s background. Then I took the
mutts out on the beach for a leisurely run. When I got back, I checked the portable computer for messages, but there were none. We hadn’t activated the house phone, so I was a bit surprised when it rang as I was getting out of the shower. No one I knew had this number; for that matter, I didn’t even know what the house number was.

I picked up, trying not to drip too much on the carpet. A familiar voice was on the line.

“Sorry we missed you the other night, Lieutenant,” Trask said. “In a manner of speaking, of course.”

“Actually, you didn’t miss at all,” I said. “You just failed to follow through.”

“Yeah, well, I was never all that good at completed staff work,” he said.

“I thought we were going to talk.”

“Well.”

“Who’s that in the moonpool, wearing your boots? Inquiring minds want desperately to know.”

“Nobody important,” he said. “I suppose you want to know why you went swimming in the ocean.”

“I figured we were starting to get in the way of something imminent,” I said. “Feel free to elaborate, of course.”

“You’re close. Tell you what: If you promise to back out, I’ll promise to leave you alone. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds like: Dream on, Trask. I think I know where you’re holed up, and I’m never going to leave you alone.”

He laughed. “You knock yourself out, then, Lieutenant, but you better bring some competent help.”

“Count on it,” I said, and then I had an idea. “Did you say ‘sorry
we
missed you’?”

There was just the slightest hesitation in his reply. “I might have,” he said.

“So who’s we? Not perchance that moonpool engineer, Petrowska’s number two? Dr. Thomason?”

“Hoo-aah,” he said.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I said. “Now: Why shouldn’t I call Creeps Caswell and fill him in on this conversation? You’re out there somewhere in the weeds like the snake you are, but
Thomason, he’s right there at Helios. And I’ll bet he’ll stand up under competent questioning for, what, a good fifteen seconds?”

“You would be wrong about that, because, one, he’s a lot tougher than he looks, and two, you still want to know what happened to your ace employee, Ms. Allison Gardner, don’t you? I can answer that for you, but not if you go running to tell teacher. Let’s talk. How’s tonight work for you?”

“Tonight’s just dandy,” I said. “But I’m not coming to talk.”

“Oh, hell, Lieutenant, we can talk and
then
we can rumble. I might even tell you what the fuck we’re up to, and why. You seem like the kind of guy who might appreciate it, even. Either way, whoever comes out on top can talk all he wants to, or not, as the case might be, right?”

“I believe I know what you’re up to, although I think that’s no longer possible, what with all the attention you’ve brought to Helios. So: How’s about the container junkyard, sometime after sundown?”

“Hah!” he said. “That was a pretty good guess.”

“The word among the ICE people is that you have a spider-hole over there,” I said. I wanted him to know we’d been there and that we were known to the operatives at the container port. He ignored me.

“And you’ll bring the shepherds?” he asked.

“You betchum, Red Rider.”

“Won’t that be interesting,” he said.

We exchanged cell numbers, and then I hung up. I went to find Creeps’s number. I knew Trask had been talking about one of those
High Noon
moments, just the two of us
mano a mano
, alone in the middle of the street, itchy fingers dangling over holstered Colts. Conceptually, I was fine with that notion. Practically speaking, I wanted three Bucars’ worth of heavily armed special agents lurking in the shadows on my side, plus a wire, plus a silenced helicopter with an operable death ray overhead. I sincerely doubted that Trask knew the first thing about Allie Gardner’s death. What he really wanted was me in the open long enough for a clean
.30-06 head shot, followed by a quiet splash in the Cape Fear River at max tidal current. The quip about the dogs was just more BS.

Special Agent Caswell was not available, and would I like to leave a message? I asked them to have him call me before 6:00
P.M.
Subject? Apprehension of Carl Trask. Spell Trask. I did. We’ll be sure to pass that on.

Then I called Pardee, who said he was up to his eyeballs in the inner workings and hidden mechanisms of the station’s security access system.

“Getting anywhere?” I asked.

“Anywhere I want to,” he said. “That’s the problem.”

“How so?”

“Somebody’s rigged the system to grant universal and unreported access to the right card. We’re assuming it was Trask’s card, which, of course, is missing.”

“Didn’t Ari suspend his access?”

“He thinks he has,” Pardee said. “I’m not so sure. I think Trask has some pretty competent help.”

I briefed him on my phone call from said Colonel Trask.

“Wow,” he said. “You tell the Bureau?”

“I did leave a message with Creeps’s office. As for Ari, you can tell him we think Trask is not only alive and well, but that he’s aiming some kind of shit at Helios. I’ll need you for this little op this evening.”

“Got it; the head NRC data-dink is a little miffed that I found some things they couldn’t.”

BOOK: Cam - 03 - The Moonpool
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