Authors: Daniel Palmer
“Sure. Call away.”
“In private,” Julie said.
Capshaw shut off the recorder and he and Spence left the room without protest.
Julie phoned Lucy on her new cell phone. The two talked at length until a decision was made. Julie invited Spence and Capshaw back into the room.
“If you can make it happen,” Julie said, “you’ve got yourselves a deal. But on one condition.”
Capshaw sighed. “We’re listening.”
“My friend Lucy is allowed to be with you as an observer.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to be scared out of my mind and, no offense, you two aren’t exactly a comforting presence.”
Again with the glances, and again the detectives reached a nonverbal agreement.
“Fine,” Spence said. “She’ll be in the equation. But we need the name of the guy we’re taking down.”
Julie said, “His name is Dr. Gerald Coffey.”
Thin clouds stretched across a slate gray sky and snow was in the forecast for this first day of December. Lucy had dressed for the weather in her warmest sweater, though the back of the surveillance van was plenty warm thanks to all the body heat. The full-size white cargo van had a decal on the outside panels advertising a company called JP Pest, but inside the van was crammed with high-tech surveillance equipment unlike anything Lucy had ever seen. There were wireless transmitters, sound recorders, sound amplifiers, a mixing board, cameras, various wires, even a working periscope and controller. It was all highly sophisticated, and when Lucy saw it she understood why they could not use new technology that had not been properly vetted and field-tested.
Detective Spence was in the back of the van, along with Lucy and two technicians from the Boston PD who knew how to operate the equipment. To increase usable space, the van’s seats had been removed and replaced with benches bolted to the floor. Detective Capshaw was seated up front, reading a copy of the
Boston Herald
and looking a lot like a guy from JP Pest enjoying his lunch break. Scattered around the hospital campus were a number of other undercover police officers, but Lucy did not know where they were positioned or how they had been disguised.
Detective Spence had made it clear that Lucy’s job was to keep Julie calm. Other than that, he expected her to stay out of the way. His prickly demeanor did not ruffle Lucy in the least. She respected it, in fact. This was his domain, his job, his operation to run, and his neck on the line if things went south. And things were going to head south. Lucy was sure of it.
Getting Julie inside White was not a problem, because she had Lucy’s badge. “The badge switch worked before, it can work again,” Julie had said during a late-night planning meeting with the lead detectives. All the warrants, including those for the wiretap, were in place, and steps had been taken to ensure Dr. Coffey would be at his desk. In fact, he was scheduled to meet with Lucy—only it would be Julie who walked through his office door.
“Okay, let’s do a mic check,” a technician said.
Spence gave Lucy a nudge. “You’re on,” he said.
Lucy wore a headset with an attached microphone. She got comfortable in her seat and took a deep breath. She was not one to get easily rattled, but this was her friend venturing into treacherous waters, and Lucy played a vital role in the mission’s success.
“Julie, it’s Lucy. Can you hear me?”
A crackle in the headset and then, “Yes, loud and clear.”
Julie’s voice was also being broadcast into earpieces worn by all the police. “What’s your—um, location?”
Lucy did not know the proper lingo. Spence had told her to just talk naturally. “Where are you?” Lucy asked.
“I’m inside the lobby of the Barstow Building,” Julie said. “I’m using my phone’s earpiece so it looks like I’m having a normal phone conversation, but I’m worried you can’t hear me. The microphone is pretty far from my mouth.”
“I hear you loud and clear,” Lucy said.
Spence gave a thumbs-up as well.
The miniaturization of the wire Julie wore had stunned Lucy. Gone were the days of bulky contraptions and sweat streaming down faces of worried snitches fearing the dreaded pat-down. “Wire” in the age of wireless meant cameras and recorders so small they could be hidden practically anywhere. The recording device Julie wore was hidden on the button of her white lab coat. The device captured audio only, because Julie insisted on wearing the smallest possible device that would meet the need.
Now was the moment of truth, and Lucy’s anxiety came on strong.
“Red Leader, this is Red One, I have Julie in our sights. Confirming her position in the lobby of the Barstow Building.”
“Roger, Red One,” Detective Capshaw responded.
“How’s the disguise working?” Lucy asked.
“Nobody has come over to ask me to lunch,” Julie said.
During the planning meeting, Julie had pushed for a simple disguise to wear to help conceal her identity. She was concerned that former colleagues might approach her and inadvertently tip off Dr. Coffey. A wig turned her from a brunette to a blonde, and the glasses she wore were intentionally oversized as well as tinted to hide her eyes and much of her face.
“Are you ready for this?” Lucy asked.
“I’m ready as I’ll ever be,” Julie said.
Lucy checked the time on the van’s digital clock. “Okay, you’re expected in Coffey’s office in five minutes.”
“Got it. Or Roger. Or whatever I’m supposed to say.”
Julie went quiet.
“Red Leader, Red One, she is on the move. Repeat, Julie is on the move, she’s past security and into the building. We have lost visual.”
A sudden numbing apprehension overcame Lucy.
Spence took notice of her pale complexion. “Do you need water?”
Lucy nodded. “Yes, please.”
Chatter in the van went silent. Everyone’s attention was focused on the equipment, listening to Julie’s footsteps, and then the ding of an elevator. She was on her way up. The crackle of a microphone in Lucy’s headset made her heart jump.
“Red One, are all teams in position?”
“Roger, Red Leader. All exits are covered. We’re prepared to take our target.”
The plan was to use overwhelming force. Dr. Coffey could be armed, and the biggest concern was that this mission not turn into a hostage crisis. They had coached Julie when to back off, and to stay near to the door so she could make a fast exit, and to make sure she knew how to find the stairwell. With luck Julie could get out of there with no problem, and later the police would make the arrest with no risk to public safety.
Lucy lowered her head and fixed her gaze to the floor of the van.
Come on, my friend … be okay … just be okay …
Lucy glanced at the digital clock. It was a minute past the designated meeting time. The microphone made a jumble of noise and suddenly stopped picking up any sound. Lucy flashed Spence an edgy look.
“Where is she?”
Spence was looking anxious himself. “Hey, Red One, we have any visual?”
“Negative, Red Leader.”
“All right. Hey, Dave, check the equipment.”
Dave, one of the two technicians in the van, ran through a series of checks. “Um, Detective Spence, we have an issue here.”
Spence went over to Dave. “And?”
“And I’m pinging her transmitter, but I’m not getting a response.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means the device is offline, sir.”
Spence went red in the face. “Oh, that’s just great. Just great!”
The sarcasm was biting. Lucy came over to them, her concern much more pronounced.
“We lost her,” Spence said.
“We lost her?” Lucy flashed anger. “Well, what does that mean?”
“It means her mic isn’t transmitting.”
From the front seat, Detective Capshaw slid open a partition so he could communicate with the team in the back of the van.
“I got nothing in my earpiece,” Capshaw added.
“Nobody does,” Spence said.
“What do we do?” Lucy asked.
“Give it a minute,” Spence said.
“What if he has her as a hostage, or something,” Capshaw said. “We’ve got no visual and no recording. That doesn’t fly. We gotta get in there.”
Spence did not disagree. “All right, Red One. This whole operation is a Charlie Foxtrot. We got to go in there. We got a warrant to search Dr. Coffey’s office so we’ll use that. Go! Go!”
Lucy bit her lip. This obviously was not how things were supposed to happen. She could hear the chatter in her headphones as the police swarmed into the Barstow Building.
“Red One, we are through the lobby,” came a voice.
Lucy imagined the scene as best she could: Boston Police in body armor with guns drawn racing through a hospital lobby, flashing badges and shouting orders to gain entry. The sound of echoing footsteps marching up concrete stairs blasted in Lucy’s ears. She heard grunts and the issuing of various commands, most of them unintelligible.
Spence leaned forward in his chair. Lucy glanced at him. His jaw was set tight and he was grinding his teeth. The tension on his face produced deep creases across his brow. Lucy leaned forward in her seat, her eyes closed, concentrating on every word, every sound she could pick up.
“Red Leader, there’s a blond woman outside Dr. Coffey’s office. She appears to be fine. Go! Go!”
Lucy heard a door slam open, then shouting—a lot of shouting.
“Down! Get down on the floor! Hands behind your head! Don’t move! Do not move!”
“What’s this about? What’s going on here?”
It was Dr. Coffey’s terrified voice, Lucy believed.
“I said down. Get facedown on the floor, hands behind your back!”
The commanding voice was so loud it distorted in Lucy’s headphones. The commotion continued for some time.
“Red Leader, we have a situation here.”
Spence uncoiled in his seat. “What situation?”
“Sir, it’s the blond woman.”
“What about her?”
“Well, she’s got the wig, all right. But it isn’t Julie Devereux. This girl here says her name is Becca Stinson and that she works for Dr. Lucy Abruzzo.”
“Where the hell is Julie?” Spence shouted.
“Sir, we don’t know.”
Julie strode past the desk of Marilyn Bates, where the gray-haired sentry kept watch, and burst unannounced into Roman Janowski’s spacious office. Of course Marilyn followed, a frantic look on her craggy countenance, bracing for a stern rebuke over her failure to guard.
Romey was hardly amused by the intrusion, but he displayed no outward signs of anger. He simply rose from his chair.
“Marilyn, would you leave us, please?” he asked. “And close the door behind you.”
Julie hovered near the door, her hands clenched into fists, electric currents racing through her body.
“What on earth are you doing here, Julie?” Romey’s tone revealed both puzzlement and annoyance.
“Surprised to see me, Roman?”
“How did you get into the building?”
“I used Lucy’s badge, same as I used Allyson’s badge to get into West.”
“Clever girl. We’ll have to address that security lapse, won’t we? What is it you want, Julie?”
“I want to cut a deal.”
“A deal about what?”
“A deal that will keep me and my son alive and you out of prison. I think we have a lot to discuss.”
Romey reclined in his high-back leather desk chair, folded his arms across his chest. Julie found his expression obnoxiously sanguine.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Romey said. “But I do know I’m busy and you’ve been fired from White, which means I’m going to have you forcibly removed.” Romey reached for his desk phone.
Julie approached with caution, ignoring the fear bubbling in her gut, the tremor in her heart. “I have proof,” she said. “Cetuximab and alpha-gal. I know how it works.”
Romey set the phone back on its cradle and returned his hands to his lap. He rolled his chair forward and leaned his elbows against his uncluttered desk.
Julie was intentionally vague, wondering how Romey would respond and what she would do if he attacked, if he pulled a gun on her. She inched forward and got to within a few feet of his desk, close enough so she could read the time on his brass clock. By now Spence and Capshaw would have a big surprise on their hands and the police would be grilling Lucy and Becca for information. With luck, it would all be sorted out soon enough.
Romey glared at Julie. “What do you want?”
“I told you, a deal.”
Romey’s face turned thoughtful. “How do I know you haven’t already cut one?” he asked. With his finger, Romey pointed up and down Julie’s body and then touched his ear.
This is it,
Julie thought.
This is the moment
. Her excitement began to build, but her fear remained. “Always be three to four moves ahead of your opponent,” Lucy had said.
“I see your point,” Julie said. She directed her gaze to a white lab coat hanging on a metal coat tree tucked in a corner—something she had noticed on her last visit to Janowski’s office.
“What if I put on that lab coat,” she said, “and wear nothing underneath?”
A slip of a smile came to Romey’s face, with a leer Julie found disgusting.
“I’d say it would work for me if it works for you.”
Romey rose from his chair, adjusted his suit, and then retrieved the lab coat.
“I’ll watch,” Romey said.
“What? You don’t trust me, Roman?”
“No. I don’t.”
Julie locked eyes with Romey and did not avert her gaze while she removed her car keys and phone from the pocket of her trench coat. She set those items on the corner of Romey’s desk and dropped the jacket to the floor by Romey’s feet. Underneath, she wore a blue blouse and black slacks. She had given Becca the wig and glasses in a bathroom exchange made in the lobby of the Barstow Building, but not the lab coat with the wire in the button. Julie had walked out of the building not wearing any disguise, while Becca stayed behind. On her way to Romey’s office, Julie kept up the ruse by conversing with Lucy in the surveillance van. When it was time, Julie ditched the bugged lab coat in a trash can after crushing the device under the heel of her shoe. Now she was here, about to get undressed, and everything was going according to plan.