KISS THE WITCH (27 page)

“
What about my Corvette?”
Carlos asked. “Who’s going to get the bastards that shot up my
Vette?”

“
The Feds.”

He hauled back and kicked the sandbag off
the edge of the roof. “Damnit. That sucks. You know they won’t do
anything about it, Tony. Hell, they’re the ones who shot it up in
the first place.”

I pointed over the edge. “You just disturbed
Federal evidence.”

“
Sue me,” he snarled, and
he walked away.

I looked at Spinelli. He seemed equally put
out. “You got a problem with this?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No, but it does
suck.”

I nodded my agreement as he, too, walked
away. “Yes,” I said under my breath. “It definitely sucks.”

The next morning, Carlos and I were at the
office organizing the paperwork we needed to file with our report
to the Feds. Carlos was still angry over the thought of turning the
case over to the same people he believed shot up his car. I tried
telling him that wasn’t the FBI.

“
I don’t care,” he said.
“FBI, CIA, NSA, T&A. Feds are Feds.”

“
T&A?”

“
You know what I
mean.”

“
Just so you know, the FBI
work under the jurisdiction of the Department of Justice, which has
nothing to do with those other agencies.”

Across the room, several workstations down,
someone called out, “Detective Marcella?”

I looked out over the expanse of desktop
monitors. “Here,” I said, only then spotting the stranger who
called for me.

He came over to us, an older man in a neatly
pressed suit with starched white collar and cuffs peeking out in
conspicuous flair. I pegged him at around fifty, so calling him
older is not exactly fair, especially since beneath my
twenty-something-year-old exterior lies a sixty-something-year-old
man.

“
Detective
Marcella?”

I stood and offered my handshake. “That’s
right. How can I help you?”

He flashed his badge and ID. “Special Agent
Bradley Driscoll, F.B.I. I’m here to assume the Biocrynetix
Laboratories case you’re working on.”

“
I didn’t call you guys
yet.” I looked to Carlos. “Did you call him?”

Carlos shook his head. “I didn’t call.”

“
Did Spinelli?”

“
No. He’s not here
yet.”

“
No one from your office
called me, Detective,” Driscoll said. “I’m here because of what
happened yesterday at the motel.”

“
How do you know what
happened at the motel?”

Carlos said, “Because he’s the one who
orchestrated it all. Don’t you see, Tony? Agent Dribble here is
probably the one who shot Howard Snow. Isn’t that right,
Dribble?”

“
It’s
Driscoll.”

“
Carlos.
Please.”

“
Tony. How else would he
know?”

Driscoll said, “J.P. Ferguson called me
yesterday when he heard about the shooting on the news.” He looked
directly at Carlos. “That’s how I know, Detective Rodriguez.”

I splayed my hands out over my desk. “Okay.
Fine. We expected you to show eventually. Here you have it. These
are the documents and photos from the case. Good luck.”

Carlos scoffed. “He doesn’t need luck. This
case is going nowhere after today. The government has what it wants
now. They have the research documents from Biocrynetix. They have
the compound. They killed everyone remotely related to the
development of the compound.” He tossed his hands into the air.
“They have everything they want.”

Agent Driscoll said nothing. He gathered the
papers from my desk into a neat pile and scooped them into his
arms. “Is this all of it?” he asked.

I turned my palms up empty. “That’s it.”

“
Thank you,” he said, and
without addressing Carlos, added, “have a nice day.”

He was halfway down the hall when Carlos
called out, “You have a nice day, too, Dribble dick.”

Bradley Driscoll did not acknowledge the
remark, though nearly every head in the room turned to see who said
it. Carlos simply waved to them all.

“
Can you believe that
guy?” he said to me after everyone had resumed work.

I shrugged uneasily. “Hey, I don’t like it
any more than you do, Carlos, but the man has a job to do.”

“
Doing our job, you
mean.”

“
Yeah maybe. Listen.
Where’s Spinelli?”

He laughed. “You kidding? He’s getting
married tonight. He’s probably at home shaking in his boots.”

“
Shit.”

“
What?”

“
I forgot.”

“
Forgot what?”

“
Dominic is worried about
the whole handfasting thing. I was supposed to ask Lilith about
it.”

“
Ouch. Hey, you don’t
suppose he and Ursula are bound by the hands already. Do
you?”

“
I don’t know. Lilith said
nothing about it this morning at breakfast. Maybe
they––”

“
Hey guys.” It was
Spinelli, a coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other.
“What’s up?”

Carlos and I looked at each other. “Well,” I
said. “Guess that answers that.”

“
Answers what?”

“
We thought you and Ursula
might be joined at the hands this morning.”

He laughed. “No. I talked to Ursula last
night. The handfasting thing is mostly symbolic. It’s just a small
part of the ceremony tonight. That’s all.”

Carlos said, “Bet that’s a relief for
you.”

“
You mean for Ursula,” he
said. “Poor girl. She’s too shy to spend the entire day bound to
me. She said she would not be able to pee with me standing next to
her. She is really modest that way you know.”

“
Modest?” He pointed at
me. “But she––”

“
Carlos.” I gave him the
eye. He wisely backed down. “So Dominic, are you nervous about
tonight?”

He smiled a boyish grin. “Petrified is more
like it. But excited, too. I don’t know what to expect.”

“
Relax. Don’t give it much
thought and it will all be over before you know it.”

“
Like a dentist
appointment,” remarked Carlos.

Spinelli just shook his head. “I know that.
That’s why I came to work today. I couldn’t stand hanging around
the house waiting.” He gave a quick look around. I knew straight
away what he was thinking. “Where’s the…. Where is all our research
for the case?”

“
There is no case,” said
Carlos. “Some dribble dick agent from the FBI came here and took it
all.”

“
Agent Bradley was here
already?”

“
You mean Agent Bradley
Driscoll.”

“
No. I mean Agent Tom
Bradley. I talked to him last night. He said he would be here….”
Dominic checked his watch. “Said he would be here about
now.”

“
Someone did come here,” I
said. “Only he said his name was––”

“
Yo. Spinelli.”

The three of us turned.

Dominic called out, “Tom. Over here.”

Carlos and I watched with dropped jaws as a
young man Spinelli’s age, wearing an off-the-rack J.C. Penny suit,
hurried over and shook Dominic’s hand. Spinelli introduced him to
us as an old friend now working for the FBI in Boston.

“
Tom and I were roommates
in college,” Spinelli said. He put his arm around Tom Bradley’s
shoulder. “We studied criminal investigation there. Can you believe
it? I was going to be FBI. He was going to be a
detective.”

“
That’s funny,” I said,
forcing a smile. “What happened? Get each other’s homework mixed
up?”

Tom Bradley thought that was funny. “No.
It’s just the way things worked out. Guess you never know
sometimes, eh?”

“
Yeah,” said Carlos. He
gave up a nervous laugh. “You never know.”

Bradley said, “So listen, Spin Man.
I’m––”

“
Spin Man?” I
said.

“
Oh, yeah. That’s what we
called him at school.”

“
But that doesn’t leave
this circle,” Spinelli warned. I rolled my eyes and left it at
that.

“
Anyway, Spin Man. I’m
sorry I can’t stay and reminisce, but I have to run. Got a plane to
catch out of Logan in an hour. I can barely make it as it is. You
have the files?”

Carlos and I both said, “Files?”

He looked at us queerly. “The case files on
Biocrynetix.” He looked to Spinelli. “Dominic. You told me you
would have them ready.”

“
I know. We had them.”
Spinelli turned to me. “Detective Marcella was just explaining what
happened to them. Detective?”

I swallowed back a growing lump in my
throat. “We gave them away already.”

Bradley said, “You gave them away?”

“
Just a while
ago.”

“
To who?”

“
This guy. He said his
named was Bradley.”

“
Yeah,” said Carlos. “He
told us he was FBI.”

“
Someone said he was
me?”

“
Yes. No. I mean he said
his first name was Bradley. He showed us a badge and ID. Didn’t he,
Tony?”

“
He did. He had a badge,
an ID and a nice suit.”

“
A very nice suit,” said
Carlos.

Agent Tom Bradley looked down at his suit,
pulled on his cuffs and stiffened his shoulders. “Well, this will
not look good for your department.” He turned to Spinelli. “I’m
sorry, Dominic.”

“
Tom, I’m sure we can get
to the bottom of this.”

Bradley checked his watch. “I’m running
late, Spin Man. I have to go.”

We waited until Agent Bradley was gone
before exchanging bewildered glances. Spinelli broke the awkward
silence. “Anyone want to explain to me what just happened
here?”

“
They got us,” Carlos
said. “Plain and simple. The bastards got us again. We have nothing
now.”

I concurred. “Looks like you’re right,
Carlos. I should have asked for papers or something.”

“
He showed us a badge and
ID.”

“
We still should have
asked for case transfer papers.”

“
So what now?”

“
What do you mean what?
That’s it. We’re done. That’s how it goes. Sometimes you win.
Sometimes you lose.”

“
And sometimes you choose
between the two,” said Dominic.

Carlos scoffed. “What is that supposed to
mean?”

“
I don’t know. It’s from a
song.”

“
Carol King,” I
said.

“
Yeah. That’s
right.”

“
Well, I have news for
you. There is no choosing here. This time we lose.”

“
Maybe not.” Spinelli’s
cheeks dimpled suspiciously.

“
Wait a minute.” I poked
him on the chest. “I know that shit-eating grin. What have you got
up your sleeve, Dominic?”

His full smile broke free. “Oh, I don’t
know, just an ace in the hole is all.”

“
What?” This from Carlos
and me both.

“
Okay,” he said. “You’re
gonna like this.” He paused for dramatic effect. Carlos and I
crowded him against the desk.

“
Tell us
already.”

He scooted aside, came around the desk and
pulled an airline ticket out from the top drawer. “Remember
this?”

I took the ticket. “This is Ferguson’s
boarding pass for the Toronto to Boston red eye.”

“
Exactly. Look at the
arrival time.”

I looked at it again, only then realizing I
had not paid particular attention before to the times on it. “It
says arriving in Boston 1:55 a.m. Monday morning.”

He smiled at that. “That’s right. Do you
know what time that train struck Rick Delaney’s car Monday
morning?”

“
No.”

“
3:10 a.m. Exactly one
hour fifteen minutes after J.P. Ferguson’s plane touched down.
Plenty of time for him to call Delaney at home, wake him up and
have him drive out to the Biocrynetix Laboratories for an emergency
meeting.”

“
You’re thinking Ferguson
pushed Delaney onto the tracks?”

“
Yup.”

I admit, my enthusiasm deflated sharply
then. “Dominic. Putting J.P. Ferguson on the ground at the same
time Delaney kissed the grill of a train does not prove he pushed
the man’s car onto the tracks.”

“
Oh?” His face soured
some. “I suppose you would like a confession then.”

“
Yes, Dominic. A
confession would be nice.”

His devious smile returned. I drew a
doubting bead upon him. “Dominic. Why are you smiling?”

Carlos said, “Oh no, Tony. He’s got a
confession.”

I shook my head. “No he doesn’t.”

Dominic nodded. “Yes I do.”

“
You have a
confession?”

“
Yup.”

“
From who?”

“
Ferguson.”

“
He confessed to
you?”

“
Well no, not to me, but
over the phone.”

“
I don’t
understand.”

He came back around to the front of the desk
and picked up the phone. “You remember how I told you I found
listening devices in our phones?”

“
Yes, of
course.”

“
Okay. See it got me
thinking. Whoever tapped our phones, assuming it wasn’t Biocrynetix
Laboratories, probably tapped Ferguson’s phone as well.”