Rise of a Phoenix: Rise of a Phoenix (26 page)

BOOK: Rise of a Phoenix: Rise of a Phoenix
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“It’s not that. There was another shooting.” She explained some details of the weapon’s history, which came as a shock to Tony. The detective, having gone pale at the news, thanked her and slowly put down the receiver.

McCall was with the rest of the team in the briefing room. The Captain was giving a breakdown on the events as they had happened, to try and elucidate some clues from the other people involved. Tony knocked and slowly walked in, and the Captain stopped talking and looked at him.

“What’s up, Detective?” he asked, reading trouble in Tony’s pensive expression.

“Uhm, I got the report back from ballistics.” He fumbled with a piece of paper which he was grasping tightly.

“And what did they come up with?” asked the Captain, unable to figure out what was wrong.

Tony ignored him and looked across at McCall. “McCall, can I speak with you alone please?” he said.

The female detective wasn’t in the mood for messing around. “Tony, if you have something, spill it right now, will you?” She leant back in her chair and rubbed her eyes, feeling as if she hadn’t slept for a month.

“Okay. The weapon that was used in several of the shootings. One time it was used in the hotel room and the other was around eight years ago.”

Sam’s eyes lit up. At last they had a lead.

“Who was the target?” she asked excitedly.

“Detective Samuel Robson.” His heart sank as he watched her stagger slightly as if she had been shot herself. She looked across at him, feeling as if her legs wouldn’t support her.

“Are they sure?”

He nodded.

She took off, making for the ladies room. Meanwhile, Doctor Davidson and Thompson looked puzzled.

“Who the hell was he?” the doctor asked.

Captain Brant sat down and composed himself before he spoke: “About ten years ago I got partnered with this hothead; he wanted to save the world—a good guy, a good cop.”

His audience listened attentively.

“We kicked some serious ass back in the day, bustin up all sorts of shit. Anyway one day on a big raid we busted big: weapons, cash, and oh I mean serious stuff. Now one detective made it his mission to find who was shipping the stuff and he shut them down.”

Pausing only to take a sip from his coffee mug the Captain continued. “Around eight years ago he tells me he is close, he needs one final piece of the puzzle and he has everything. But he warned me it was bigger than we thought.” He coughed and loosened his tie. “We were called to a hotel room somewhere in the Bronx, disturbance and possible use of weapons, so we go in nice and quiet, not wanting to spook them so they can run, you know? Anyway we get to the room, the door is open, Samuel goes in to check his vitals.”

The Captain stood up and walked round, finding his admission of past events difficult.

“So what happened, Captain?” asked Doctor Davidson. He could see the pain in Brant’s face and sympathized with him.

“A bullet from God knows where landed in my partner’s chest, sending him across the room. I tried to do CPR but that was useless, he was gone.” He wiped his eyes, weeping at the memory .

“So who was he?” asked Thompson, still confused.

The room went silent as McCall re-entered the room. “He was my father,” she told them.

 

 

FIFTY-FOUR

 

 

 

 

Jerry, the homeless man who’d led them to the building, sat in Interrogation Room One. On the table in front of him sat a large plate of hamburger and fries. For a moment Detective McCall watched the man through the other side of the two-way mirror. She felt loathing for the man who sat calmly eating, while her partner had been vaporized by the blast. The Captain, who was standing next to her smiled.

“You okay going in there?” Alan Brant’s words were a comfort, but she knew she had to do it. As she stood outside the door of the interrogation room she blew out a lungful of air, readying herself for the ordeal.

As McCall entered, Jerry looked up at her, looking beyond where she was standing, expecting to see Detective Steel.

“Where’s the big guy?” he asked.

 She sat down slowly, not saying a word, not even looking at him. She sorted out some paperwork in front of him then she looked up and gave him a smile.

“Hello, Jerry, how is the food?”

He began to chew slowly, sensing that something was wrong.

“It’s real good. Thanks.” He suddenly became more nervous, looking at the door and hoping that Steel would enter. Then, when the realization hit him, the man began to tremble with fear.

“Where is the other detective?” he asked.

She shot him a look that was so evil he almost wet himself.

“Don’t you even speak his name, you do not have the right to ever speak his name, you piece of” A bang on the glass behind her shocked her back to reality.

After a lengthy period of questioning, all McCall could get out of Jerry was he didn’t know anything about the bombs or the fact that his friend George had been tied to a chair in the middle of it all. George was in hospital, guarded by four men; the Captain was not prepared to risk losing another witness.

“So, Jerry, tell me again about the deliveries?” The man she was questioning was tired and just wanted to sleep, but she figured that put her at an advantage.

“We would pick up the parcels and take them to wherever we were told to go.” He drank the coffee she had put in front of him. “We would get word through Eric where to be and we would just deliver the goods.”

“What sort of goods?” She leant back in the chair so it rocked backwards.

“I don’t know. Some big, some small—just parcels,” he said, taking another sip of coffee.

“Where to?” She could see he was breaking.
Just a little further
, she thought.

“All over the place. We would bring them to parks, disused places—all sorts.” He was so tired that his hands were shaking. His eyes widened as she opened the file and laid out the crime scene photos of the women. Tears ran down his face as he realized the locations.

“I had nothing to do with this,” he declared forcefully. “Really, this is wrong. As God is my witness, I didn’t know what was in the parcels.” He began to cry. “I was just told to bring the parcels there and leave them. That’s all. Please, you have to believe me.” He collapsed forwards on the table, the horrific images on the pictures burnt into his brain.

“Okay, Jerry, I believe you,” she said, putting the photos away. “So these parcels. How long has it been going on for?”

He looked up at her, surprised at the question.

“Months? Years? I really don’t know.” He had stopped sobbing and took another sip of his coffee.

McCall got up and went to the door and spoke with another officer outside the room. She sat back down and regarded Jerry. She had so many mixed emotions about this poor soul. Because he had led them into a trap, she would have liked to put a bullet into his brain. But on the other hand, this poor bastard was just being used.

Moments later there was a knock on the door and a hand appeared with a map and some pens. McCall got up and took them, returning to her chair.

“Jerry, can you show me on this map where you delivered to?” she asked, placing the map on the table in front of him.

Jerry looked round nervously, then nodded. “But, see, if I help you, I have to disappear.”

McCall leant back in her chair, and her cell phone buzzed. Taking it off the table she saw a text from the Captain, saying:
get the locations I will speak to witness protection.
She nodded to herself and put the phone back on the table.

“Okay Jerry, you show us and then you disappear. It’s being arranged as we speak.”

He looked back at her suspiciously. She picked up her cell phone and showed him the screen displaying the text from the Captain. She saw the beginnings of a smile of relief touch the corners of his lips. A moment later there was a knock on the window and she knew the deal was done. His head shot up, looking round desperately.

“Are you expecting someone, Jerry?” She noticed his fingers rasping on the table, beads of sweat pouring down his dirty brow. He grabbed the pens and started to mark spots on the map. She instructed him to put a red dot to signify where he’d delivered a large package and a blue mark for a small one.

“You never know, he could be here, couldn’t he?” Jerry’s nervous scribblings on the map continued frantically.

“Who could be here?” Sam asked, intrigued. Who was it who was terrorizing him?

“THE MAN, of course! That’s who! He is everywhere and everyone.” As he picked up his coffee mug she noticed that his hands were shaking violently.

“Who is he? Have you ever met this THE MAN?”

He shook his head still looking around anxiously.

“Listen Jerry,” she tried to reassure him. “You know you are safe here. Nobody can get to you here.”

He looked up at her, his eyes full of fear and remorse, before looking back at the map.

“No,” Jerry replied at last. “I have never met him. Nobody has. All we know is Eric gets a call and we go to wherever and move whatever.” He shrugged, and as he sipped his coffee McCall could see he had calmed slightly.

McCall looked at the map he was busy filling out, then she stood up and reached for it. “I think that should be more than enough, thank you, Jerry.” She headed for the door and knocked to be let out. The door clicked open slightly until the officer was satisfied that it was her and not the prisoner, then he let her through.

“Well, did we get anything?” asked the Captain.

“Sure,” she said, holding up the map.

“Wow, we are going to need more people,” said Tooms.

The map was almost full with red and blue dots, which all seemed to be located around particular areas.

“What about Jerry?” She sounded concerned about his welfare, which surprised her colleagues.

“Witness protection will be here in the morning,” the Captain assured her. “Until then he will be kept in a cell, with a guard.”

“Good.” She nodded.

“So what now?” asked Tony.

McCall headed for the computer room. “Now we try to narrow our search down.”

Once inside the IT centre, she met the computer tech, who was a man in his late twenties with spiky black hair and large black-rimmed glasses. His clothes were more street wear than NYPD but he was there for his brains not for his street cred.

“Hi, Louis, how are you today?” she greeted him with a smile.

He looked up at her from his monitor and returned the greeting. “How are you doing, Detective?”

She shrugged. “Guess I can’t complain.”

“So what have you got for me?”

She put the map down in front of him. “I need to know about all of these marked areas. Are there any warehouses or disused property nearby?”

He looked at the groups of multi-colored dots, and smiled a confident smile, which reassured her a little. “Sure I can help, but it may take some time,” he said, and got up and put the map onto a board so that he could get a better view.

McCall re-entered the interview room where Jerry sat nervously. She had brought him another coffee, which she placed in front of him as she sat down.

“Jerry,” she began. “My Captain has spoken with some people and by tomorrow you will have a new life and a new identity.”

He looked up and she could see the relief in his eyes. “So, Jerry, let’s talk more about THE MAN. How do you know he exists at all?”

He leant forwards and she moved forwards to hear him, as he was now talking in whispers.

“I have seen Eric on the phone with someone and he always called the guy ‘Sir’, then he would turn to the other man and say: ‘the man said we are still go’.”

McCall looked puzzled for a moment.

“This other man, what did he look like?”

“I don’t know. Tall, blond. Had some sort of black uniform on.”

McCall shot a look backwards towards the mirror. Pieces were falling into place.

Sam excused herself and left the room where the others were waiting for her. “The asshole at the bridge that got away,” said Tooms. She nodded but her thoughts were elsewhere.

The Captain looked through the two-way mirror at Jerry. “What the hell is going on here?” He was as puzzled as ever. He turned and faced the others. “OK, there’s nothing more we can do here till tomorrow.” He looked at his watch, realizing that the hours had just melted away. It was now nine o’clock in the evening and he needed to go home to his family. “Go home, get some rest and hopefully we’ll have some doors to kick in tomorrow. All of you go home.”

McCall watched as Jerry was taken to a quiet cell for the night and she smiled with relief. They had got through the day and no one else died. That was something to be grateful for.

 

 

FIFTY-FIVE

 

 

 

 

A wind blew across the remnants of the warehouse, taking with it pieces of small debris, while its scorched walls lay broken and scattered. Loose timbers where windows once stood now smoldered and released ash into the air on the wind. Metal beams lay bent and deformed where the blast had twisted them into angry-looking shapes. What had once been the large storage room that held the maze was now a scene of devastation, its appearance more like a scene from a war movie than a crime scene. Burnt shattered fragments lay strewn across the blackened floor. The wind howled through the carnage like a wounded beast that brought a chill to the bones of the two officers sent to watch over the crime scene.

Rats scurried across the pieces of broken timber and brick, hoping to score a meal, but the officers knew that if anything edible had been inside it would have been turned into ash instantly.

The beams of the officers’ flashlights cut through the night causing long haunting shadows as they swept past the gnarly looking ruins. The two men walked slowly through the areas they had been told to patrol.

“This place gives me the creeps,” announced Officer Timmins, who was a young man of around twenty five, the last five of which he had been working with his current partner. Timmins was tall and thin with mousy coloured hair.

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