Authors: Simon Gould
Over the next fifteen minutes, I assigned all the available officers that the captain had allocated to this case to the various lots, as well as a couple of officers to review the CCTV footage of all cars arriving at the Staples Centre over the course of the day. Even though we’d been chasing Sarah Caldwell through the alleys of Wilton earlier today, for all we knew, this step could have been implemented by her anytime before or after that, so although we could probably rule out the time we had been chasing her, and maybe forty-five minutes either side, it was still a hell of a lot of footage to check in such a short space of time.
As always, Captain Williams kept me optimistic. ‘Patton, if the car is there, we’ll find it. It’s only a matter of time’. Although he was right, I just wondered how much time we actually had. I very much doubted we’d find Katie in the car, but part of me didn’t want that. There was no way, I thought, that if she’s in the car we’re supposed to find, that she would have been left alive. That wasn’t The Chemist’s style now, was it?
Aware that in McCrane and Burr, he still had a couple of very high profile individuals being detained, Captain Williams opted to remain at the station to oversee events there and also to work out what part, if any at all, Robert Farrington was playing in this ever-expanding web of deceit.
82
If any of the officers hadn’t realised the scale of the operation and thought that we’d find the car after a few minutes of casually searching the Staples Centre, their wake up call came as we pulled off Santa Monica Freeway, getting a view of the massive Staples Centre arena, and its surrounding complex for the first time.
There were hundreds of lines of cars surrounding the arena, split, as we knew, into twelve lots. Some of these lots were underground, which only compounded the sheer enormousness of the task in hand. We could see several latecomers to the gig, running towards the area, eager to catch as much as they could of the day of rock, no doubt wanting to get value for money for the hundred or so dollars tickets would probably have cost.
Each lot had been assigned a varying number of officers, depending on the size of the lot. One officer remarked that there may well be several British cars over the twelve lots and how would they know if it was the right car? Given my experiences with The Chemist, I could only answer that they would know if it was the right one when they found it. Something in or on the car would let us know; I was sure of that.
The officers split into their teams and I took my team to my assigned lot, which also happened to be one of the biggest; West Hall Parking. I had to put my faith in the other teams and that their searches would be thorough and efficient and that they would not miss anything they were supposed to find. Agent Balfer had rejoined me and was supervising another team in the second of the biggest car lots, South Hall Parking, so I was confident he would conduct his team with the required professionalism. I just had to trust that the other teams, who were made up out of a lot of officers I’d never worked with, would be similarly dedicated. Two officers were also dispatched to the Staples Centre security offices to try and review car park footage from earlier in the day to help narrow our search but I didn’t hold out any hope that they would find anything there. I’ve done my fair share of reviewing hours of CCTV footage, and it’s easy to miss vital clues as after a while, it all tends to blur into one continuous stream.
Whether the car we were looking for was British in make or whether it would simply have British plates attached, we had no idea, but we began the arduous and somewhat monotonous but necessary task of checking each car; splitting the lots into sections and each officer taking a section. Each team were under the clear instruction to radio me immediately if they found anything that looked like it was a possibility or saw anything suspicious. Was Sarah Caldwell here again, watching, just like she had at the house in Wilton? I didn’t think so personally, but it wasn’t something I could discount. She’d had her look this morning and I didn’t think she’d need a second one today. I was pretty sure I’d be seeing her again soon, in any case.
83
Paul McCrane and Jameson Burr had watched as Patton and Williams had left the interrogation room, giving them a chance to speak in private for the first time since they had been arrested earlier that morning, although they spoke at a level that would not be picked up by the interrogation room’s surveillance cameras.
‘Conway leaked the story’, McCrane spoke first, venomously, ‘and he knows that we tried to have him killed this morning’, he continued, bringing his friend up to speed. ‘But don’t ask me how he knows but he does’, he said, pre-empting Burr’s first question. ‘He also knows we know about him having an affair with your wife, Jameson’.
‘I can’t believe Farrington has known about Caldwell. How the fuck could he know in the first place?’ Burr had been listening to McCrane address Patton and Williams intently and recalled Farrington looking more shocked than most at last week’s Animi meeting.
‘I don’t know’, McCrane mused. ‘I can only speculate that he must have intercepted an email or phone call or something between you and I that contained some specific details pertaining to her release and our plans for holding her at the safe house. One thing that puzzles me is why he would want to assist her in the first place. Any ideas?’
‘I cannot imagine’, Burr shook his head. ‘Are you positive Conway leaked the story? Could that not have come from anywhere else? Though I do agree with you that Farrington must have been responsible for helping Sarah Caldwell escape’.
‘Well Farrington is the only one that it could possibly be’, McCrane was also sure. ‘He was the only one of us, you and I aside of course, that knew how and where we were implanting the tracking device. None of the others knew this prior to us revealing it at the meeting the other day, so how could Brittles, Brindle, Hague or Conway have helped Sarah Caldwell if they had no knowledge of where the tracker was going to be implanted in the first place?'
‘Agreed’, Burr accepted. ‘And Conway leaking the story?’
‘Well I passed that motherfucker in the corridor, and trust me; he knows we tried to have him taken out and he insinuated very strongly that he was responsible for breaking the story. He knows that, well, certainly you have motive for wanting him killed. Maybe having us arrested for fraud was his way of trying to take us both out of the picture’.
‘Well I think we should certainly pay him a visit’, Burr suggested. ‘I think it’s time I finished this once and for all. What time do you think we’ll get out of here? I take it the deal you have in place entitles us to our freedom whilst Caldwell remains un-captured?’
‘Of course it does’, McCrane said. ‘Well they should just need to process us both out - couple of hours maybe. After which, my friend, I think you’re right; a little visit to Conrad Conway might be in order. Although I think maybe our first port of call should be Robert Farrington; assuming the police haven’t brought him in of course’.
‘There’s going to be a media shit storm when we get out’, Burr remarked. Their arrests were big news and every paper and TV channel in the state would be taking a major interest.
‘Leave that to me’, McCrane advised. ‘We’ll go out the front door like we have nothing to hide. I’m sure I can swing it so everyone believes we have been set up by an ambitious rival’.
‘I sincerely hope so McCrane’, Burr stated. ‘And you did the right thing by giving them Farrington, you had no choice’.
‘Indeed’, McCrane nodded. ‘I just pray that Farrington can give them nothing new on us once he
is
brought in. After all, we can avoid this housing fund thing if we handle it right, but who’s to say Farrington couldn’t give them something else? If he knew about Sarah Caldwell as he evidently did, then there’s every reason to suspect that he is privy to other certain operations we have conducted without his knowledge’.
‘If they arrest him, or bring him in for questioning, could we get to him in here? Have him taken out?’ Burr wanted to know. McCrane took a moment to mull the question over before answering.
‘I’m pretty sure we could’, he said. ‘And what’s more, that could be our only viable option’.
84
It took, as McCrane had suspected, another couple of hours for the necessary paperwork to be processed, allowing the release of himself and Burr whilst the LAPD’s investigation into Sarah Caldwell took its course. Officer Bridges kept himself apprised of the situation, which was a big talking point all over the station, so that hadn’t been particularly difficult. As Conway had requested, he kept him updated with the time he thought McCrane and Burr were being released.
During that time, both Captain Williams and Patton who was still searching the Staples Centre wondered how they could bring in Robert Farrington and justify holding him for questioning regarding the whereabouts of Sarah Caldwell. It was another career gamble if they brought him in for Captain Williams, so he had to tread carefully, mindful of Farrington’s ruthless reputation.
‘Find that car Patton’, Williams instructed, ‘I’ll see what else I can find out here. We’re going to need more than speculation and hearsay to bring Farrington in’.
He went back to the interrogation room where McCrane and Burr had remained, and as much as it pained him to let them go, albeit temporarily, the deal had been engineered in such as a way as to ensure their freedom.
‘It goes without saying that if we fail to bring Sarah Caldwell in with the information you’ve given us, that I will be prosecuting you to the fullest extent’, Williams almost spat. McCrane was almost smiling.
‘I’m sure Robert Farrington will be able to provide you with the rest of the information you require to secure her capture’, he said. ‘I take it we’re free to go?’
Williams said nothing but held the door open and stood aside, indicating that they were. Nevertheless, he walked them down several corridors and two flights of stairs to the main entrance of the station, where a media-frenzy awaited. He didn’t see the need to offer either of them transport.
‘So you’re not giving us any phone call?’ Burr enquired, not overly keen to face what awaited outside, even with McCrane there to back him up. Figuring that just by bringing them in, he’d already made an enemy out of the pair of them, he had nothing else to lose by telling them exactly what he thought.
‘You guys like playing games don’t you?’ he smiled. ‘Well I can play too. No phone calls, no transport. But just like your deals state, gentlemen, you are free to leave this station’.
McCrane leant a little close to Williams, who was taller than him by a good three or four inches. ‘I’m sure when this little matter of The Chemist concludes, Captain, I can have a little chat to some friends of mine and well, maybe you won’t be Captain for too much longer?’
Williams simply opened the door, causing the awaiting reporters and journalists to surge forward. ‘Get the fuck out of my station you piece of shit’, he snarled. ‘Both of you’. That had felt good to say, at least.
Burr and McCrane eased themselves into the awaiting throng, with McCrane appealing for silence as he was happy to give a brief statement; an appeal that was largely ignored by the majority of reporters. Across the street, Leon Reno started walking towards them.
85
We’d been searching the various lots of the Staples Centre for around an hour, with no success. We hadn’t even had sight of a British car or British plates, never mind found the actual vehicle and I was beginning to think that we were completely misguided in our translation of the message.
A couple of the smaller lots had been fully checked, although my team and Balfer’s team were only about a third of the way through ours. I was urging my men to check faster, aware that time was ebbing away. Who knew though, if we were where The Chemist wanted us to be? Were we on the right track? Not for the first time since he’d sustained a knife injury earlier today, I wished Charlie was here to bounce some ideas off. I’d spoken to him briefly about half an hour ago and he was in the process of trying to convince the doctors to discharge him, swearing that if another hour passed, he would do that himself. My cell went off again.
‘Hey, Patton’.
‘Charlie boy’, I greeted him. ‘What’s the update partner, how you doing?’
‘Any luck finding that car yet, man?’ he wanted to know, ignoring my question.
‘Nothing yet, but we’ve still got a lot to check’, I told him. ‘How’s the wound?’
‘Well I’m on the way man, couple of hours max’, he sounded pretty well actually, all things considered. ‘It’s against their advice’, he told me, probably referring to the doctors, ‘but hell, it’s gonna take more than one knife wound from that psycho bitch to keep me down, man’.
‘Look, you take it easy’, I stressed. ‘There’s nothing you can do anyway until we find the car. If that’s what we’re supposed to find’.
‘I’ll leave you to it for now, but I’m call you when I’m on the way’, Charlie said. He wasn’t taking my advice, which didn’t surprise me in the least.
‘Ok man, only if you’re up to it’, I knew when I was beaten and when I was wasting my breath. Not that his help wouldn’t be more than welcome, but I didn’t want him to aggravate any injury.
‘We’ll find her Patton’, he assured me, before hanging up. I was trying to remain optimistic but as time marched on, I knew that every minute I didn’t find Katie tipped the game in Sarah Caldwell’s favour.
In the distance I could hear a muffled drone of music coming from the Staples Centre which began to grate on me as the search continued over the next half an hour or so. I stepped up my search team, double time, and we were nearing the completion of our search when my radio crackled into life.