Authors: Kyle Mills
Besides, I'm dead-ended on the Collector until .. . Well, you know."
Unfortunately, she did. Until another woman disappeared and Stephan y Narwal's body showed up.
"Well, I can't say I'm not glad to see you. You're probably the onl y person on the force who's still willing to talk to me." She motione d toward the steel skeleton parked against the curb. "What's th e story?"
"Not much so far. Obviously, the car's seen better days."
"But it's definitely Fade's?"
"Fade?"
"Apparently that's what he calls himself."
"I heard that you'd talked to him, but I thought it was just anothe r rumor."
"No, it's true, but I didn't do a very good job. I couldn't ge t anything out of him that we could use."
He nodded thoughtfully, looking down and picking imaginary lint fro m his slacks, a mannerism she'd seen a thousand times but still didn'
t know how to read.
"Well, to answer your question, yes. It is definitely al Fayed's w e managed to get a serial number off one of the pieces that's left. I t looks like he dropped it off late last night but there are no securit y cameras in the area and, of course, no one saw a thing."
Karen motioned behind him and they retreated back to the barricade s where he could take some of the weight off his arthritic knees. "I d oubt anyone is going to be very anxious to talk to us. I'm guessin g they don't love cops around here and everyone will think we're tryin g to finger them for stripping the car or to get them to inform o n whoever did it."
"That's about the size of it," Wakefield agreed. "We're checking ca b companies to see if anyone was picked up here, but cabbies aren't fon d of coming into this area at night, so I'm guessing he hoofed it to th e closest metro or to another car he had stashed .. ."
"That seems a little risky in this neighborhood."
Wakefield smiled. "I'm going to go out on a limb and say that this gu y walks pretty much wherever he wants."
"So another dead end," she said, the frustration creeping into he r voice despite her effort to stay in control. "That's turning into th e story of our lives, John."
"It kind of is, isn't it... Uh-oh."
"What?" Karen said, noticing that he was staring over her lef t shoulder.
"Our fearless leader."
"Great."
"What the hell are you doing here?" she heard Captain Pickering say.
When she turned to respond it became clear that he wasn't talking t o her. In fact, he didn't even seem to be aware of her existence.
"I was in the neighborhood," Wakefield said.
"Well, get the hell out of the neighborhood. The goddamn press i s going to show up any minute."
Wakefield pushed himself off the barricade again and patted Karen o n the arm before wandering off. "Call me if you need anything. And kee p your chin up."
She watched him as he started to push his way through the peopl e surrounding the crime scene, feeling a slight pang of jealousy mixe d with her gratitude. It must be nice to be bulletproof.
"These people are trying to work," Pickering said. "I don't need yo u disrupting them."
A number of responses came to mind but she kept them to herself , instead brushing by him without a word. She'd only made it about te n feet before he called after her.
"Wait for me in my car, Karen."
His tone was both commanding and dismissive. Why wouldn't it be?
She just kept going along, not uttering a single meaningful protes t while he twisted the knife he'd put in her back. Always the loya l scapegoat.
He was parked right next to her and she considered just getting in he r car and driving away, but immediately dismissed the idea. A s satisfying as it would be, it was time for them to have this thin g out.
When she walked by the young cop watching the perimeter again, hi s expression had evolved into a superior smirk that she actually wasn'
t accustomed to.
"You have a problem?" she said before she could stop herself.
He apparently hadn't expected to be challenged and took a step back.
"No."
With that cleared up, Karen covered the rest of the distance t o Pickering's car and sat down on the immaculate hood, feeling the rivet s in her jeans subtly scrape the paint. Childish? Of course. But oddl y satisfying.
From her slightly elevated position, she could see him speaking to th e men dusting the car, arms crossed regally over his decorated chest.
What they were saying was impossible to know, but judging from his bod y language, it wasn't what he wanted to hear.
He circled the remains of the vehicle a few times, crouchin g occasionally to get a closer look, and then started back toward his ca r and her.
"Our psychologist thinks al Fayed might be developing a connection t o you," he said, when he came within earshot. "Ken thinks you shoul d call him. Try to build a rapport."
She remained silent, deducing that he must be fairly desperate t o forego ordering her the hell off his hood.
"I want you to follow me to the precinct and we're going to set up a call."
She looked past him at the faces of a group of small children playin g on the sidewalk. If Pickering managed to get Fade through using her , it seemed likely that he'd do everything he could to minimize her rol e and take all the credit.
"What's in it for me, Captain?"
"What?"
"You heard me."
"You get to help us find the person who killed your men."
"My men are dead and catching al Fayed isn't going to change that."
"What the hell are you talking about, Karen? You're a cop. This i s what you get paid for."
"What I'm talking about is the fact that I'm being crucified in th e press and you won't let me defend myself."
"I can't control what they're saying about you."
"No, but you could get on TV and make some supportive comments instea d of letting a couple of wives and anonymous sources do all the talking.
How would you have done things different, Captain? I haven't heard a lot about that. I also haven't heard that I recommended against goin g in like that. All anyone's talking about is how bad I screwed up an d how I'm not qualified to lead a SWAT team."
Pickering shrugged noncommittally. "I can't comment about an ongoin g investigation."
"I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to show the same support for m e as you do the men on the force. Or to un gag me and let me tell m y side of the story."
"You know I can't let you "
"I don't know anything about the investigation into al Fayed or, fo r that matter, the investigation into my conduct. So I really have n o way of saying anything except my version of what happened."
"Jesus Christ, Karen! We've got a heavily armed lunatic running aroun d the streets and you're worried about some bad PR? You know what you'r e going to do? You're going to do exactly what I tell you. And that'
s get in your car and follow me back to the precinct where you're goin g to get on the phone and help us catch this asshole. Do yo u understand?"
He started around to the driver's side door but then stopped when sh e didn't move. "That's an order, Karen."
"And one I'm more than willing to follow. I just want a littl e something in return."
"You're determined to play politics with this, aren't you? You'r e willing to just let the psychopath who killed your men walk around fre e .. ."
"It might be better than helping you find him so you can throw anothe r SWAT team at him."
"Still trying to make this all my fault?" he shouted. "Let me tel l you what the difference will be. This time we'll have someon e competent in command."
She slid off the hood, scraping paint as she went, and spun toward hi m ready to shout back, but managed to stop herself. If there was an y time to keep her infamous temper in check, this was it.
"Look, Captain .. . You don't like me and I'm sorry for that. Th e truth is, though, I was and am a qualified SWAT leader and I followe d procedure to a T on this operation. The whole department is being mad e to look bad by all this I look like an idiot, our guys look poorl y trained, and you look like you can't run an effective organization. N
o matter how often you imply that I was forced down your throat by th e feminists, eventually the press is going to get bored hearing it an d they're going to turn on you."
He managed to unset his jaw and opened his mouth to say something bu t she cut him off.
"I'm not trying to portray myself as a hero here. Our guys died and I w as in charge. But the treatment I'm getting isn't fair. All I'
m asking is for you to tell the whole story of what happened. I'
m willing to take my lumps where I deserve them, but I won't stand silen t anymore while my name is dragged through the mud."
He opened his mouth again but no sound came out until he'd thoroughl y scanned the area to see if anyone was close enough to hear. "Cal l Fayed and I'll think about it."
"I'd also like to be taken off administrative leave and put back on th e Collector case. John needs me and it'll help show that I have th e department's confidence."
"But you don't have the department's confidence, Karen. Jesus, wha t are you going to ask for next? A fucking promotion? A raise? Wha t kind of other rewards do you feel you deserve for getting an entir e SWAT team wiped out? People are calling you the Widowmaker fo r Christ's sake. How would it look to the men if I start making excuse s for you?"
"I'm not asking for excuses," she said, still controlling her anger.
Her mother would be so proud. "I just want all the facts out there an d I want to be allowed to go back to working on catching a man who is , right now, torturing a woman to death."
He didn't answer for almost a minute. "We'll see how you do wit h Fayed."
Karen shook her head. "You first."
"You're overplaying your hand, Karen. How about instead I get on TV
a nd tell the press you're not cooperating with our investigation int o the deaths of your men?"
"Or you could just get on TV and tell the press that, based on th e facts you've gathered so far, I acted within department policy an d therefore you're reinstating me to active duty."
"I'm not prepared to do that. I don't know what the facts are."
"Come on, Captain!" she said, finally losing her meticulousl y constructed calm. "You know exactly what happened out there. You hav e a recording of everything that was said during the assault! You hav e craters from bomb blasts. You have a burned-out house. You hav e bodies. You have al Fayed's remote control and night vision cameras.
This isn't rocket science!"
Her outburst caused a barely perceptible smile to stretch his lips. "I s this an ultimatum?"
"I'm sorry. I thought I was being clear. Yes, it is."
"Then, no. I won't be dictated to."
She pulled her badge from her pocket again and this time threw it , hitting him hard in the chest. "Then let the games begin."
Chapter
Twenty-five.
Matt Egan squinted against the sun glaring off the cars lined up i n front of him and walked quickly across the lot to a freshly painte d trailer on the other side.
Billy and Lauren had done an inhuman amount of work over the las t forty-eight hours, helped along by the fact that they had decided t o relocate permanently to OSPA's office suite. Both were absolutel y convinced that Fade was hiding in their bushes with a piano wire i n just their neck size. Maybe Strand had been right so far thei r boundless motivation and long hours had been a serious plus.
Based on an exhaustive review of regional classified ads and a poll o f every used car dealer within five hundred miles, they'd determined tha t twenty-eight classic cars had changed hands in the relevant time frame.
Based on Fade's historical love of convertibles, as well as the rathe r noisy call he'd made to Strand, Egan had decided to focus first on th e three rag tops It turned out that one didn't run and was towed away b y its sixty-year-old purchaser. The second was in mint condition, bu t was purchased by a woman as a gift for her husband. The third, though , had been sold by this small Baltimore dealership to a male in his earl y thirties.
The man who stepped from the trailer and closed the distance to Ega n with his hand outstretched didn't fit the stereotype of a used ca r salesman. Barely forty, he had a relaxed smile and gait that fi t perfectly with his unpressed cotton dress shirt and khakis.
"Hi, my name's Troy Powell," he said. "Can I help you with somethin g or are you just browsing?"
Egan had run through a number of ways to introduce himself, but non e had been completely free of drawbacks. Normally, he'd just whip ou t his Homeland Security credentials and get whatever information h e wanted. Not his best option under the circumstances.
"I'm Matt. Nice to meet you. Actually, I wanted to talk to you abou t a guy who bought an old Caddy from you a couple of days ago."