‘I can’t say much more about that right now, I’m sorry.’
‘Tell us this,’ Cahill said. ‘Was Tim using an alias? The reason I ask is that his name was not on the passenger list.’
‘He died on that flight. That’s your answer.’
‘He was working undercover?’
Webb said nothing, inclined his chin and brought it back down. Logan wasn’t sure if it was a nod in confirmation and looked at Cahill.
‘Okay,’ Cahill said, apparently satisfied that it had been intended as an answer to his question.
‘Is that enough?’ Webb asked.
‘It’s enough for Tim’s wife.’
‘And for you?’
‘I always prefer to know more than less.’ Cahill smiled.
It was Webb’s turn to stand and go to the window, looking down at the late afternoon traffic starting to build.
‘We carry out background checks on all gun purchases in the country,’ Webb said, still facing the window. ‘I guess you know that.’
They took it for a rhetorical question and waited for Webb to continue.
‘Some time ago a man who had previously come to our attention due to some minor anti-government activities – letter writing, things like that – started to buy up legal weapons. A background check was done automatically each time and because he had a clean record the purchases were approved.’
‘But multiple purchases raised a red flag somewhere, right?’ Cahill asked.
Webb turned to face them again and nodded.
‘As you would expect it to,’ he said.
‘Then what?’
‘He stopped. I mean, after seven purchases in the space of six months he just stopped.’
‘So?’
‘He also sold his house. Didn’t buy another one that we’re aware of. No record of him renting either. At least, not under his real name.’
‘He was working?’
‘He quit. Didn’t take up another job.’
‘Gets you thinking what is he up to?’
‘Correct.’
‘Then what?’
‘We start working in the background to find out what he’s doing. He’s got our attention now. We start to look at some associates. Turns out a few of them have also given up steady, decent-paying jobs and don’t seem to have replaced them with anything.’
‘Associates?’ Logan asked.
‘All ex-military.’
‘They served together?’ Cahill asked.
‘Afghanistan.’ Webb nodded.
A thought occurred to Logan.
‘These activities you spoke about,’ he said. ‘The stuff that initially brought him to your attention. Was it related to the conduct of the war over there?’
‘Something like that.’
‘So,’ Cahill said. ‘You manufacture Tim Stark getting sacked. He has a legitimate anti-government gripe and can find a kindred spirit in this soldier. Ex-soldier.’
Webb nodded.
‘Stark was brought in to infiltrate the group.’
Another nod.
Logan frowned. ‘I don’t get it,’ he said. ‘I mean, if Stark was fired to give him a reason to be pissed off at the Government so he could use his real name and background, why was he using an alias when he got on the flight?’
‘To avoid detection,’ Cahill said. ‘Am I right?’
‘Yes,’ Webb said. ‘The alias was to send us a message. To let us know that he had been compromised and was coming home. The op was being run out of our headquarters in Washington. That’s where Tim was going.’
‘So you knew that they were on to him,’ Logan said. ‘Which is why you thought the plane crash might have been deliberate. To kill Stark?’
‘Correct.’
‘Turns out it was just his bad luck,’ Cahill said.
Webb sat down again. ‘You can see why this is sensitive,’ he said. ‘These people are still out there. Still planning whatever it is that they are going to do.’
‘Except now you’re blind because your man on the inside is gone.’
‘Yes.’
Cahill was quiet for a moment before he spoke again.
‘Do you need a replacement?’
10
‘You can’t be serious,’ Logan said to Cahill, sitting in the back of a taxi heading for their hotel.
‘Why not?’
‘Your life isn’t exciting enough already?’
‘Look, he said he’d think about it but he wasn’t really serious.’
‘Why not?’
‘I haven’t been in the States for a while and I’ve been out of any recognised agency for even longer. They don’t want someone like me. Someone they can’t control.’
‘So what was that all about? I mean, him saying he’d think about it.’
‘He was humouring me.’
‘But
we
’re done here, right?’
‘We’re booked in the hotel for three nights. Why don’t we make the most of it?’
‘You want to do something about this, don’t you? I can see it in your face. Even if Webb wasn’t serious about taking you on in some official capacity. You want to be involved.’
Cahill shrugged.
‘Christ. You are unbelievable, Alex. You know that?’
‘Calm down. I mean, Bruce still has to get back to us on the “D. Hunter” thing that Melanie found, so why don’t we at least check on that while we’re here?’
‘And we can feed whatever we find out into Webb, right?’
‘Sure.’
‘That was the single most unconvincing thing you have ever said to me. And that’s saying a lot.’
They got to the hotel after six. It was a modern four-star affair with a restaurant on the ground floor and a spacious reception and bar area on the next level. They checked in quickly and went to the room – a decent-sized space with two double beds.
‘Cosy,’ Cahill said when they walked in.
Logan found a TV concealed behind doors in a unit opposite the beds and turned to a local news channel. They unpacked their gear in a few minutes, storing the bags in the unit beneath the TV.
‘You going to call Melanie Stark?’ Logan asked.
Cahill looked at his watch. ‘Yeah, I guess I should.’
‘At least it’s good news.’
Cahill stared at him.
‘I mean, sort of.’
‘I suppose.’
‘I’ll go explore the hotel. Give you some time to make the call alone. Then we can grab some dinner.’
Logan went down to the ground floor and got a coffee to go from an outlet there. After that, he went to the reception level and saw signs for a shopping mall which he followed to a set of double doors that led directly on to the first floor of the mall. He wasn’t sure if the mall or the hotel was there first.
He wandered along looking at the shops and went down to the ground level where he found a rent-a-car desk. He figured they would be better off with a car than taking taxis or being on foot.
He sat on a bench outside a fast-food outlet and felt the nausea that Cahill had warned him about. It was low level, but still unpleasant. He couldn’t stand sitting there with the smell wafting out of the place so he walked back up the stairs, following the signs for the hotel. He pulled out his phone and saw that he had a voicemail message.
Ellie had left a short message telling him that she was fine and not to worry. That he could call her any time anyway. He smiled when he heard her voice.
Back in the room, Cahill was sombre.
‘Tough call?’ Logan asked, sitting on his bed.
Cahill nodded. ‘How did you get on?’ he asked.
‘Other than feeling sick …’
‘What did I tell you?’
‘… I found a car rental place. I figured we should get a car while we’re here.’
‘Good idea. You can do that tomorrow after breakfast.’
‘You mean
we
can do it?’
‘No.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’ve got an errand to run.’
‘Alex …’
‘It’s nothing. Just personal.’
Logan squinted at him, unsure if he was being lied to. He decided to leave it for now.
‘Oh, and Bruce sent me an e-mail.’
‘Anything interesting?’
‘Only four D. Hunters in the metro Denver area.’
‘Bruce get backgrounds on them?’
‘Of course. All pretty bland.’
‘We’re still going to give them to the FBI to check them out, though. Right?’
‘Not right now. I mean, we can do some preliminary digging around now that we’re here.’
Logan didn’t have the energy to argue with him any more.
‘Whatever. Look, I’m going to watch some TV and then get to sleep.’
Cahill looked at his watch.
‘It’s only gone seven. What about dinner?’
‘If I make it to nine I’ll be doing well enough. And I’m not in the mood to eat.’
‘Suit yourself. I’m going to go for a walk. I’ll grab a burger or something.’
Logan couldn’t muster the enthusiasm to ask him if that was a casual walk or something else altogether.
Cahill saw the look on his face.
‘Jesus, it’s just a walk.’
11
Thursday
Irvine logged on to her computer at Pitt Street and checked her e-mails. There was one from Armstrong timed at six-thirty the night before telling her about his visit to the agents who handled the lettings for the accountants. It was short and to the point:
Dead end. Speak tomorrow.
Irvine took her file of papers out and went through what they had so far. It might not lead her anywhere, but at least it would focus her mind on things. Maybe it would allow her to figure out where they went with the inquiry now. She jotted down some brief notes on a pad as she read. When she was done, she looked over the notes she had made:
Fentanyl/Heroin – Russia?
Overdoses – bad drugs
Lewski body dump – dealer did it?
Dealer and Lewski involved – sex
Cops and Lewski?
Accountants and Lewski?
Suzie Murray – is she lying + does she know the dealer?
She leaned back in her chair and thought about the last point. In the aftermath of the encounter with the man on the stairs she had kind of rushed through the interview with Murray. She looked in the file again for the notes she had made after the interview and re-read them.
Murray had said that Lewski moved into the flat about a month ago and she was the one who knew the dealer – the man who had assaulted Irvine. According to Murray’s story, Lewski had brought him to the flat a couple of weeks later. But Murray never used his gear. Lewski traded sex for her stuff. The stuff that had probably killed her.
A question nagged at Irvine’s mind – if she was right in thinking it was the dealer who had dumped Lewski’s body in the river, why had he gone back to see Murray the day after Lewski’s death? He would have known that the flat would be checked out by the police and that Murray would be questioned. So it was a risk for him to go there. A big risk.
Irvine couldn’t think what the reason might be. She looked down at the notes again. The only thing she could think of was drugs. That the dealer had left some of the bad gear at the flat and went to get it. But she couldn’t convince herself that a small stash of the stuff – only enough for personal use – would be worth the risk to him. And he had not been carrying any large package when she had encountered him.
She called Armstrong. It rang three times before he answered.
‘Kenny, I’ve been thinking about this Lewski thing again. It occurred to me that there might be something Suzie Murray hasn’t told us. About her relationship with the guy who gave Lewski the drugs.’
‘The guy who gave you the black eye?’
‘Yes.’
‘What about him?’
‘Well, I mean, why would he go back to the flat the next day and risk a confrontation with us? He would know that we would go to the flat and try to speak to Murray. What was so important to him that he would risk that?’
‘Drugs, probably.’
‘I thought of that. But he wouldn’t risk it for a small stash, would he?’
Armstrong was quiet for a while.
‘I wouldn’t do it if it was me. But I’m not him. These guys are not the smartest, you know.’
‘The top guys are.’
‘They
think
they are.’
‘I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense to me.’
Armstrong sighed.
‘Remind me what she said. Murray, I mean.’
Irvine went through it all again for him.
‘What do you think?’ she asked when she was finished.
‘I don’t know. Let me think about it some more and we can speak later.’
‘When are you coming here?’
‘I need to go to SCDEA in Paisley. Catch up on some other work. See you before lunch.’
Irvine hung up. She thought that Armstrong would be the best person to look for a discrepancy in the story. He knew the drugs scene and she did not. She blew out a breath and tapped her pen on the desk.
She decided that she would go and find Jim Murphy and press him again for progress on the blood results and the CCTV footage. They were the only live leads that were still to bear fruit.
‘I’m going through it now,’ Murphy said, pointing at the screen in front of him.
Irvine saw familiar images from the city centre cameras.
‘Anything so far?’
Murphy tapped on a notepad by his mouse mat where he had written what looked like some kind of code to Irvine. She picked it up and looked at the random numbers.
‘What’s this?’
‘Reference points on the film for where there might be something you want to look at. An individual or a vehicle. Something like that.’
‘How much more do you have to go?’
Murphy opened another window on his screen and pointed at it. Irvine was none the wiser.
‘Another file after this one. And I’m about halfway through it now.’
‘Can you send that other file to me and I’ll look at it. Speed things up.’
He nodded and clicked on the file, sending it to her e-mail address.
‘Anything from the lab yet?’ she asked.
He looked up at her from his seat.
‘You are a pain in the arse, you know that.’ He smiled.
He opened a drawer in his desk and handed her a report.
She scanned it quickly and saw the expected references to fentanyl and heroin.
Irvine thanked him again and went back downstairs to her desk, feeling a little more positive now that there was progress being made.