Do Not Go Gentle (36 page)

“You're like a bad penny, Griffin,” Hamilton groused as he approached. “You keep turning up where you shouldn't.”

“Pipe down, Len,” Sully ordered and walked up to Jamie and Eileen, now standing by her husband. “Are you two alright?” Genuine concern showed on Sully's face. If he thought Jamie was malingering, he had never showed it. He was always polite and friendly to Jamie, but firm when drawing the line about Jamie's involvement in police work.

“We're fine, Sully,” Eileen replied, reaching out and patting his arm. “Shaken up, but fine.”

“What the hell happened here?” Sully asked.

Jamie repeated the story he had told Thompson and Boyle. Standing to one side facing Jamie, Suzie rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

“Thompson, Boyle, you two head to either end of the street and keep the crowd back,” Sullivan ordered. Sullivan then walked to the burning building, which was now being doused by firefighters. Hamilton followed along deferentially.

Jamie had then sat back against the hood of the Honda and Eileen had snuggled beneath his arm. Jamie rubbed her shoulder. “It will be alright, my love, truly it will.” Eileen had said nothing. She had just watched the burning building in disbelief.

Now, after a troubled night's sleep, they had mechanically gone about their morning routine. They had spent the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon on the telephone—Jamie on the house phone, Eileen on her cell phone. Jamie had handled the police and the insurance company, while Eileen had called her students and staff. They squeezed lunch in between and around their calls. Now, it was drawing close to mid-afternoon and they were both tired, more from the emotional than the physical impact of the previous night's events—but tired nonetheless.

Jamie had just gone to the living room to rest on the sectional. Finn MacCool accompanied him and fussed around until Jamie covered the dog with an afghan. “You are the stupidest dog in Christendom,” he muttered.

“Why?” asked Eileen coming into the room with coffee for both of them. They knew they still had work to do, so they were taking a break and loading up on the caffeine. “Just because he likes being warm and cozy? So do I. Does that make me the stupidest female in Christendom?” she asked archly. She sat beside Jamie. The dog grumbled from beneath the afghan at being disturbed.

“No, that just makes you charming,” Jamie replied charmingly. Eileen snorted, but did not reply.

They had been sitting for about fifteen minutes when the house phone rang. Jamie still had the cordless handset with him and answered. “Hello?”

“Daddy.” Caitlin's voice was ragged and she was screaming. “Daddy! Someone took Riona!”

Jamie's heart froze as he heard his middle daughter crying. “What do you mean someone took Riona?” Eileen bolted up and slid closer to Jamie to hear.

“I mean someone grabbed her as she was coming out of school.”

“Slow down, darlin.' Slow down, take a deep breath and tell me what happened.”

They could hear Caitlin take two gulping breaths. “I was coming from the parking lot to the front of the school where I always pick her up. By the time I got there, most of the traffic had thinned out. I was looking around for Ri, then I saw her standing in front of a white van, talking to some woman. Next thing I know, the van door slides open, the woman grabs Ri by the arms, and a man leans out and grabs her legs and they haul her into the van. They pulled out and now I'm following them.” Caitlin was scared. “What do I do now, Daddy? What do I do now?”

“Get me that pen and paper,” Jamie said to Eileen. “Can you see the license plate on the van?”

“Yes,” Caitlin gulped, and then read off the plate identification.

“Okay, got it. Now, tell me where you are.” Jamie held the paper to Eileen. “Call 911 and use my officer ID—it will still get their attention.” Eileen snatched her cell phone off the ottoman and dialed. “Where are you, baby?”

Caitlin's voice, while calmer, still verged on panic. “We're on Gallivan, just passing Saint Brendan's,” she said breathlessly. “I almost lost them when they turned off Dot onto Gallivan, so I ran a light on yellow to stay behind them.”

Jamie smiled despite his fear. “Good girl. That was absolutely the right thing to do.” Eileen held her cell up for Jamie to take. “Hang on, honey,” he said, setting the cordless handset on the ottoman, putting it on speaker as he did so. “Just keep telling us where you're at,” he said.

“Okay, Daddy,” Caitlin replied shakily. “We're nearly at the 93.”

“This is former detective Jamie Griffin,” Jamie said into the cell phone.

“Jamie. I couldn't believe it when Eileen gave me your officer ID, especially since it's not active any longer. What's this about Riona being kidnapped?”

“Liam?” Jamie asked. “Damn, I'm glad we got someone who knows me.” Liam Foley was a cousin and Jamie had worked with him several times. “Caitlin just called us. Someone in a white, unmarked panel van grabbed Riona just as Caitlin was coming to pick her up outside Elizabeth Seton.” Jamie read off the license plate.

“Sonofabitch,” Liam cursed. “Where are they now?”

“Caitlin's following them. She said they're almost to the 93 at Gallivan.”

“We're getting on the 93 headed toward downtown,” Caitlin said.

“Okay, darlin',” Jamie replied. “You're doin' great, sweetie. Now listen—I'm pretty sure I know where they're headed, so don't get too close. We don't want them to realize we're onto them.”

Caitlin exhaled heavily, letting a jagged breath out slowly. “Alright, Da. I'll keep you posted.”

“Did you catch that, Liam?” Jamie asked.

“Aye. 93 toward downtown. Where do you think they're headed? I've alerted all units in the vicinity to intercept.”

“Unless I'm way off base, they're headed toward a townhouse in the North End. It's on Hull Street across from Copp's Hill Cemetery.”

“How the hell do ya know that?” Liam asked.

Jamie exhaled loudly. “I don't know it for a fact, but I'm pretty damned sure it's related to the last case Cal and I were working. Caitlin, where are you now, love?”

Caitlin's voice was steadier. Now that her father was involved, her panic had started to subside. “We're almost to the JFK Library, Da.”

“Okay, good girl. Let me know if you get off on the frontage road to the Mass Avenue Connector or if you stay on 93.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

“What are you thinking, Jamie?” Liam asked. “I've got two patrol units responding. One unit just got on the 93 in Dorchester and is catching up. The other unit is by the Andrew T stop. He could get on 93 and we'd have one ahead and behind.”

“As long as they stay on 93,” Jamie replied. “There's a chance they could take the Mass Ave Connector.” Jamie paused for a moment to consult his mental map of Boston. “Okay, Liam, have the unit at Andrew Station get on 93. If they don't get off at the frontage road to the connector, then they're definitely headed to the North End.”

“We'll know shortly,” Liam said. He broke off to give instructions to the patrol units.

While Liam was away, Jamie reached over and grabbed Eileen's hands. “We will get her back, love. We
will
get her back.” Jamie spoke firmly and confidently—it would do no one any good for him to let his worry get the better of him.

Eileen nodded grimly. She desperately wanted to believe that Jamie was right, but every maternal instinct was screaming for her to get to her daughter, any way possible. She inhaled deeply, and then slowly released her breath.

Liam came back on the line. “Jamie, if they get off on the Mass Ave Connector, where do you think they'll be going? I have a unit in the North End heading toward Copp's Hill. I have another unit available to go wherever you want.”

“Have the other unit proceed to Newbury Street, near the Mass Avenue end.” Jamie gave them the address of the Disciples of Endor.

“Roger that,” Liam replied.

“We're almost to the frontage road exit, Daddy,” Caitlin said, her voice still trembling.

“Alright, baby girl, you're doing fine,” Jamie said. “Just let us know which way they go.” Jamie closed his eyes and said a brief prayer. He wasn't going to say it out loud, but if Riona's abductors knew they were made, experience told him that his daughter's chances for survival would plummet.
Dear Lord
—
I know I've been angry at you lately. If this is your way to make me appreciate the truly important things in life, I'm listening. Please just give me my daughter back safely.
Jamie opened his eyes as Eileen rubbed his neck. They clasped hands again and waited to hear where they were taking Riona.

Father Anthony O'Connor sat in his simple room in the Saint Brendan's rectory, wrapped up in his personal misery, unaware of the events unfolding around the Griffin family. He sat on his bed, looking out at the day and thanking God for last night's turn of events.

After ordering him to drive, Timmy O'Neill had him drive to a deserted portion of the parking lot at the north end of the Dorchester Yacht Club. Other than providing directions, O'Neill had not spoken since he got into the car. Once they parked, O'Neill reached over and killed the engine and lights.

O'Connor had waited nervously. O'Neill just sat looking into the darkness. Finally, unable to take the silence any longer, the priest spoke. “Timothy—” he began.

“Shut up.” O'Neill had whipped around in his seat so sharply that, for a moment, O'Connor had thought O'Neill was going to strike him, and he flinched involuntarily. O'Neill had chuckled mirthlessly. “I'm not going to hit you, Father.” He sighed deeply. “Not that you don't need someone to knock some sense into you.”

O'Connor hung his head and waited for O'Neill to continue. It seemed like forever before Timmy exhaled sharply and laid his hand gently on O'Connor's shoulder. “Father, I've known for some time now about your ‘indiscretions.'”

“You have?” O'Connor looked up, surprise and shock written upon his face, “but, Timothy, you've never—”

“I know,” O'Neill interrupted. “I've never said or done anything before now.”

“Exactly.” The priest now leaned toward O'Neill and put his hand on the detective's shoulder. “Why did you stay silent and why are you confronting me now?”

Now it was O'Neill's turn to feel ashamed. “It's complicated, Father.”

When O'Neill did not continue, O'Connor chuckled. “Trust me. I can understand complicated, Timothy. Since you know my secret, why don't you tell me yours? It will be privileged, like I'm hearing your confession.”

O'Neill blew out a long breath, and then nodded. “Okay, Father, deal. I've done a lot of bad things over the past few years, Father. Terrible things.”

“Everyone has done things they're not proud of. Just look at me.”

“Point taken, but you're not even in the same ballpark as me, Father—you're still a long train ride away from the parking lot.”

O'Connor paused for a moment, and then asked. “Are you a dirty cop, Timothy?”

O'Neill rubbed his face vigorously with both hands. “If only that was all. I'm way past just being dirty. I'm bought, paid for, and halfway down the road to Hell, and there's not a damned thing I can do about it.”

The priest reached across with his other hand and grasped both of the other man's shoulders. O'Neill looked at O'Connor. “There is
always
a chance for redemption, Timothy. God's love and mercy are infinite.”

“Do you really believe that, Father?”

“I do, with all my heart and soul, I do. We have to make a genuine effort to change our ways, but God does not expect perfection.”

O'Neill laughed. “I thought the road to Hell was paved with good intentions.”

“It is,” O'Connor agreed, “but only because intentions alone are not enough. You have to strive to
act
upon those good intentions—
that's
what leads us to salvation, even if we fail, as I often have. You have to pray for strength and keep fighting the good fight, as they say.”

Timmy did not speak for a while. “Father, I've been working for a very bad person for nearly seven years now. I've done terrible things at her orders, but that's no excuse—I've always known in my heart that I was sinning. It was just so damned tempting.”

“The wiles of Satan are always tempting.”

O'Neill looked intently at O'Connor. “Do you really believe in Satan?” he asked, great sadness tinting his voice like black ink dropped into clear water. “Do you think evil things exist separate from the evil that lives in our hearts?”

O'Connor reflected a moment, and then sighed. “Yes. I believe in Satan. I do believe that there are actual incarnations and agents of Evil in our world, walking the paths set before them by the Dark One, doing his work just as holy men do God's work.”

O'Neill shook his head. “Well, I've been working for just such an evil person, father. I've seen her power, up close and personal, and it is unlike anything I've ever seen before. I'm not a believer in the supernatural, but her abilities are not normal. She is frighteningly dangerous, and tonight I just violated one of her direct orders.”

“How so?”

“She ordered me to have you arrested before now and I've been dragging my feet, trying to find a way out. So tonight, she had another dirty cop, one of my lieutenants, ready to arrest you when you patronized one of our girls. I intercepted him and told him to back off, even though he had orders straight from her.”

“Thank you, Timothy,” O'Connor replied humbly. “I am ashamed that my weakness has now put you in danger.”

“That's okay, Father, really it is.” O'Neill's face was set in determination. “I got myself into this mess. I have to get myself out, but I need you to promise me that this is the end of your ‘indiscretions'.”

O'Connor sighed sadly. “I've tried, Timothy. I truly have.”

Now O'Neill grabbed the priest by the shoulders and shook him. “That's not good enough. You just said so yourself. I have to know that some good will come out of this—that my sacrifice is not wasted.”

The priest did not reply for a long time. “I can confess my sin to my superior. He will be disappointed, but he will also get me help. I've not done so before because I didn't want to shame myself. I added the sin of pride and vanity to my sins of the flesh.”

O'Neill nodded and pulled his hands back into his lap. “Okay. You do whatever it takes to stop this, and I'll feel like I've at least taken one small step toward redemption.”

“You can't stop there, Timothy, no more than I can. What are you going to do? What will happen to you now?”

“I wish I knew, padre. I'm going to have to think long and hard about what happens now.” After a moment's reflection, O'Neill shook his head. “Start the car. Drop me off at the Savin Hill T station. I'm going to go home and do some serious thinking about my options.”

O'Connor started the car, which had gotten cold during their conversation. “I will pray for you, Timothy. I will pray for both of us.”

“That'd be great,” O'Neill replied. “I think we're both gonna need all the help we can get.”

* * * *

“We're staying on the 93, Daddy,” Caitlin said after several moments' silence.

Jamie exhaled loudly. “Alright, then. Alright, I know where they're going.”

Eileen looked at Jamie fearfully. “Are you sure, love? Are you sure you know where they're going?”

Jamie nodded. “I know who's behind this, so I know where they're gonna take her. Liam, where are the units on the 93?”

“They've both got the van in sight, Jamie,” Liam replied. “The lead car saw them as they came up on him, and then watched them drop back after they saw him. Whoever these guys are, they're being very cautious. Our guy has now pulled ahead about a quarter mile. The trailing unit is about a half mile back. He spotted your van, and then backed off.”

“I'm worried we're going to spook them, Liam,” Jamie said.

“The patrolmen don't think they've been made, but obviously, we can't know that for sure.”

Jamie thought for a moment. “Okay, tell the lead car to floor it and head to Hull Street across from Copp's Hill—make sure he gets there before the van.”

“What if they take another exit?” asked Liam.

“We'll have to risk that. There's not many exits left at this point if they are headed toward the North End. Have the trailing car come up closer—just behind Caitlin.”

“Okay, hang on.” There was silence as Liam switched over and gave instructions to the lead unit. “What about the unit we sent to Newbury Street?”

“Good. Yeah, okay, let's have them make their way to the North End too.”

“Daddy, I'm going to follow them too.”

“Caitlin,” Jamie said, “you've done your part, honey. I'd like you to get off at the next exit and come back home.”

“No.” Caitlin was typically so quiet that people who did not know her well failed to see that an iron core lay beneath that sweet demeanor. “I'm not leaving Riona,” she said vehemently.

“You won't be leaving her, love,” Eileen said. “Let your Da and the police handle this.”

“No,” Caitlin insisted. “I'll stay out of their way, but I'm not leaving.”

After several moments of silence, Jamie agreed. “Okay, darlin', but you have to keep back and let them do their job.”

“I will.”

Jamie looked at Eileen. “She's
your
daughter,” he said, trying to ease the tension.

“She doesn't get that from me, boyo,” Eileen said, worry still clouding her face.

No one spoke for several minutes. Finally, Liam broke the silence. “Okay, Jamie, the van has left the 93 and so far, they seem to be heading toward Hull Street. The patrol unit has followed them onto Causeway Street.”

“You don't have an unmarked car that can pick them up now?” Jamie asked. “They're gonna make us if the patrol car follows them on these turns.”

“Sorry,” Liam replied. “No unmarked units have checked in.”

“Okay then,” Jamie said grimly. “Let's see how this plays out.”

* * * *

Lucky da Silva angrily shook his head again as he waited at a stoplight to turn the van onto Causeway. “Damn it all. Those cops
are
following us.” He glared at Sylvia Turner and Dale Miller.

“Don't blame me,” Turner replied. “I told you that we'd be better off try to snatch her from the next Sheret meeting.”

“The
Qedesh
grows impatient,” da Silva growled in response. “None of our actions against this man have succeeded.”

“I thought you blew up his wife's shop,” Miller said.

“Yes, but somehow she managed to escape unharmed. She was supposed to be inside when the bomb went off. Blowing up the store is one thing, but harming his family is far more effective. That's why I decided to accelerate this plan.”

“Look where it's gotten us,” Turner said. “The cops are going to catch us with this brat and we'll
all
go to jail.”

“Shut up and let me think,” da Silva ordered. As annoying as she was, he knew the Turner woman was right—they were about to get caught, which would be far worse than failing to harm the girl. “Hold tight,” he called to Miller and Turner, who were in the middle seats with Riona held between them.

da Silva was in the left lane and had been signaling a left turn. As he saw the light getting ready to change, he looked up Causeway, saw no oncoming cars, and then gunned the van, swerving to the right in front of the car beside him. The van shuddered as it clipped the front end of the car. The police cruiser was two cars back and unable to move, but it turned on its lights and sirens. da Silva accelerated as fast as possible, weaving in and out traffic as he went.

“Are you crazy?” Miller shouted. “You can't outrun them in this thing.”

“No,” da Silva shouted back, “but I can lose them. Get ready to open the side door on my signal.”

“What?” Sylvia Turned cried. “We'll fall out.”

“No we won't,” said Miller with a grim smile, understanding Lucky's plan. “You'd better hope this works.”

Lucky glanced back briefly in the rear view mirror at the smaller man. “So should you,
porco
. Just be ready when I tell you.”

* * * *

“Shit.” Liam's curse sounded loud over the cell phone's speaker.

“What?” Jamie asked.

“The trailing unit says the van just jumped the light at Causeway and Staniford and is running.”

“Crap. They made us. What are they doing?” Jamie wondered. “They can't get away, can they?”

Liam paused for a moment, and then replied. “No, but the unit was two cars back and is now pursuing down Staniford. The unit we sent ahead is on Hull Street, too far away. So's the unit coming in from Newbury Street—he's turning onto Storrow, but traffic is heavy. He's going lights and siren and will try to intercept.”

“Where are they going?” Jamie said.

“I dunno.”

“Daddy,” Caitlin shouted. “I'm too far back to keep up. “

“Don't worry about it, Cait.” Jamie replied. “Just come home.”