The 3rd Victim (49 page)

Read The 3rd Victim Online

Authors: Sydney Bauer

‘Yes, and all of this prompted you to dig deeper – into Davenport's medical records, into the circumstances surrounding Walker's death. I told Sara, that night at Alibi, about Walker's trip to New York City, I dropped the name Markus Dudek, I did everything possible to influence your investigation without crossing the legal line that would make your findings as useless in a court of law as ours were.’

Carlson turned to Sara. ‘It was difficult for me to wrap the truths in so many lies, but it was necessary and I stuck to it. In fact, I only slipped up once – that night at the Fairmont, when you said that two people died on the night of Eliza's murder and that I was just taking longer to die.’

Sara looked at him, seeing it then. ‘You said I was right,’ she said.

Carlson nodded. ‘And you were,’ he said before falling into silence once again.

*

It was difficult, awkward, wanting –
needing
– to blame all that had happened on the people sitting across from them, especially considering all that Sienna and Carlson had lost. But David needed to call them on one last detail before this meeting was drawn to a close. It was something he, as a husband and father, needed to clarify if he was to feel the forgiveness necessary for him and Sara to move on.

‘Did you know about the Yorks?’ he asked, his question directed solely at Leo King.

Simba took a breath. ‘No, David, no. You know if I had … even after all the efforts we had made to protect this investigation, in the end I would have broken protocol to prevent what happened to Lauren.’

But David needed proof and so he said nothing, signifying he wanted more.

‘The order – it wasn't placed through Walker's normal channels. There was obviously no baby created, no new embryo on Davenport's books. We believe the order came in late, after Walker had staged his own death, and that the nature of the order – for a bi-racial female child with parents of certain appearance and possessing a skill base that fit you and Sara.’ Leo shook his head. ‘The Yorks did not know the child belonged to you, they committed a crime by ordering the child, but that was as far as their culpability in this went. But from Walker's perspective, taking Lauren … it was an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, a way of making one last chunk of money and hurting you and Sara at the very same time. You know I have two daughters.’ Simba's Adam's apple rose as he swallowed. ‘If I could have done anything to protect Lauren and her nanny and you and Sara, I would have done it in a heartbeat.’

David met his eye then, and knew that no matter what else, a least in this instance Leo was telling the truth. And so he turned to Carlson to finish it.

‘I need to know,’ he said. ‘What happened to Walker?’

It was the ultimate line-crossing question, the answer to which he knew would be placed in that folder stamped
high priority confidential
. David expected Carlson to glance at Leo but, to his credit, he did not.

‘The details of what happened that day – after Walker killed Davenport and took Sophia as his hostage, after the Yorks were located and Lauren safely secured – they are classified,’ said Carlson.

But David sensed Carlson had not finished, so he gave him the room to go on.

‘That moment, on that same afternoon, when we stood facing each other by the baggage carousel, I saw it in your eyes – you were ready and willing to kill me for taking your daughter.’

David did not hesitate. ‘Yes.’

‘And when you had the opportunity, even when you knew your daughter was safe, still you wanted to take my life.’

David nodded, knowing it was true.

‘Then perhaps we are as even as we are ever going to be,’ said Carlson.

David understood. ‘You settled a score for both of us,’ he replied.

‘I broke protocol for personal reasons.’

David hesitated. ‘Thank you,’ he said, not knowing what else to say to this.

But Carlson was shaking his head. ‘When you think about it … it was the least I could do.’

81

T
wo days later David and Sara and Joe were back in another conference room, but this time it belonged to District Attorney Roger Katz. It was here where they got to outline their side of the story – or rather, the version sculpted for them by Leo King and his dark-suited friends from DC.

It was the truth, at least in essence, but some significant variations were made in the interest of ‘justice’. And while it did not exactly sit well with them, they knew that their part in the strategic re-creation of events would mean the guilty could be charged with the crimes they had committed, that they would face a federal court and be judged by a jury who would finally get to hear the truth of it and, ideally, make them pay.

The Kat was lapping it up, of course, being at the head of the table in a room filled with some of the FBI's most influential DC-based brass. He even deigned to congratulate David and his defence team with uncovering a truth so cleverly disguised in a ‘legitimate criminal investigation’, before spending a good five minutes congratulating himself on his ‘assistance in uncovering evidence against the deceased Winter and Cameron’ and ‘negotiating the immediate release of Sienna Harrington with Judge Isaac Stein’. The Kat went on to offer his ‘unconditional support’ when it came to ‘helping the FBI and the US Attorney’ during their time at Boston's John Joseph Moakley Federal Courthouse where the cases against the clients would be held. He further promised that ‘despite the demands placed on him considering the proximity of the upcoming midterm elections’, he would make such assistance ‘an absolute priority’ and would even consider becoming ‘personally involved’ with the legal team that would launch the federal prosecution – an offer he suggested the FBI consider given his ‘extensive experience’ in dealing with ‘cases of elevated media interest’, as these matters were bound to be.

And after he stood at the door pressing his moisturised palm against those protruding from the crisp white cuffs of the Bureau's clone-like contingent, he ended things just as David knew he would – by turning his back on David and Sara and slamming the door in Joe's face.

And then a smiling Joe said something to David along the lines of, ‘
Do you think I should take that personally
?’

And David replied something like, ‘
You're just jealous because the Kat congratulated us and forgot to give you a mention.

And then Joe smiled again before uttering something like, ‘
You think he's in there washing his mouth out with soap right now
?’

And David said Katz was more likely to be using something with the strength of hydrogen peroxide, prompting Joe to laugh once again.

82

Six months later

‘O
kay,’ said Joe Mannix as he took in the snow-covered house before him. ‘I am officially impressed.’

David stood beside him taking in the home he still could not believe they owned – the cobblestone facade, the pitched shingle roof, the white painted windows, the Santa snowman sitting lopsided by the front path.

‘I still can't believe it myself,’ he said before turning to Joe. ‘It feels right.’

Joe nodded. ‘I know what you mean. You deserve it, David, a bit of distance from …’ Joe looked for the right word, ‘… work.’

David knew what his friend was saying. The suburb of Brookline was only fifteen minutes out, but David sensed this home would give him and Sara, and more importantly their now two-and-a-half-year-old daughter Lauren, a little distance from what David and Sara did for a living. ‘This place has five bedrooms, Joe, I'll probably get lost in it.’

‘You'll just have to fill them then,’ replied Joe, as David led him toward the house.

Seconds later David and Joe pushed through the front door, the heat from an open fire, the smell of a hot pre-Christmas lunch, the laughter coming from the living room, immediately engulfing them with warmth.

‘Your kids are out back with Susan. They're teaching Lauren how to pitch a snowball,’ said David.

‘Joe Jr is probably showing off in front of Hudson,’ said Joe. ‘It was nice of you to invite her,’ he added, referring to Joe Jr's girlfriend.

‘You said they were joined at the hip,’ said David.

‘As long as that's the only place they're –’

‘Joe!’ It was Sara. ‘Come on in. It's a shame you had to work but don't worry, lunch is still an hour away and the baseball is just getting started. I'll get you a drink,’ she said as David and Joe moved into the living room. ‘Marie's helping me out in the kitchen.’

‘Thanks, Sara,’ said Joe, as the rest of the group looked up to greet him.

Everyone was there – Nora, Arthur, Frank and his wife Kay, Leo ‘Simba’ King and his wife Janet and the newly married Sienna and Michael Carlson, who were monitoring the progress of their ‘just walking’ one-year-old son. Susan was out back with Madonna and her friends Carina and Sophia, and Leo and Janet King's twin girls Elena and Micaela. The four Mannix boys planned to take on the six girls in a game of ‘shatter the snowball’ rounders.

This had been David's idea. Sienna and Michael were due to leave for San Francisco later that evening, Michael Carlson finally having been cleared by the FBI of any wrongdoing. The post to the FBI's San Francisco Field Office was the FBI's way of distancing Carlson from events surrounding the death of Eliza Walker and the prosecution of the clients of the two deceased criminals James Winter and Richard Cameron – the truths associated with their criminal activities both exposed and cosseted depending on what the FBI thought ‘appropriate’.

King approached Joe first. ‘Joe,’ he said, offering his hand.

‘Simba,’ said Joe, the pair having reached some form of truce over the past six months.

Simba turned to David before gesturing toward the yard. ‘After the kids have finished their game, they want us to give it a go.’

‘We're expected to play?’ asked Joe.

‘You afraid I'll kick your ass, Mannix?’ smiled Simba.

‘That a challenge, Simba?’

Joe looked at Frank. ‘McKay, you and me are going to kick the FBI's ass in a game of snowball baseball.’ And then Joe's eyes moved to Carlson, the first time Joe had seen him in months. ‘I warn you I pitch a mean curve ball, Carlson.’

David knew this was Joe's way of letting Carlson know they were all right.

‘You know we have Susan Leigh on our team,’ smiled Carlson, his gesture of reciprocation.

‘She was ours before she was yours, Carlson.’

And Carlson nodded, the two of them finally okay.

Ten minutes later they were on the back porch, David, Joe and Simba standing a little off to the side. The sun was breaking through the clouds turning the white snow even whiter.

‘The best part about it is,’ continued King, who was giving David and Joe a brief progress report on the FBI's prosecution of Walker and Davenport's clients, and the relocation of the children involved, ‘every single man and woman who had their genetic material stolen and used for criminal purposes has worked together to make sure their biological offspring are safe, looked after. Of course the custody issues continue but the kids are safe, and happy, and so far custody negotiations seem to be developing calmly.

‘As for the clients, we're confident we have separated those who knew how their children were conceived and those who didn't. Now we face months, years of legal action against close to fifty-eight individuals, which doesn't worry me – hell, if it takes a decade we'll make sure these people pay for the deals they entered into. My only regret is that both Winter and Cameron died before we had a chance to make them accountable for their crimes.’

‘They got what they deserved, Simba,’ said Joe.

Simba nodded before taking a sip of his eggnog and looking out into the yard.

‘You show ‘em Mickey,’ yelled King, as his daughter Micaela smashed a snowball to oblivion, enabling Madonna Carrera to make a home run.

‘The girls kick ass,’ said a jubilant Madonna as she rounded the home plate and made a side trip toward the porch. ‘You need some help, Sara?’ she called toward Sara who was offering her guests drinks.

‘No, but come and warm up, you must be frozen solid.’

Madonna bounded up the porch steps just as Sienna and Michael Carlson came out the back door, Michael holding their little boy William's hand as he negotiated the slight step down, Sienna cradling their six-month-old biological daughter Caitlin, who had been carried by Sophia.

‘Can I help?’ Madonna asked Sienna.

‘Actually,’ replied Sienna, ‘if you could take Caitlin for a spell, I can organise some lunch for William.’

Madonna smiled. ‘Of course, it's what I do,’ she said, taking the little girl before turning to Joe, David and Simba.

‘I was wrong about medicine and the law – I think I was born to be a nanny,’ she said, referring to her job as Sienna and Michael's full-time au pair.

Joe smiled. ‘It's my loss, Madonna. If Sienna hadn't snapped you up, I would have employed you down at HQ as my personal assistant.’

‘Look out for you and Frank?’ said Madonna, gesturing toward Frank, who was taking a big snowball from Joe's son Gabe, Frank losing half the snow through his fingers as he tried to negotiate the candy cane he was clutching in his left hand. ‘I doubt you guys could afford me,’ she smiled. ‘Besides, San Francisco sounds like my type of town. Carina said it's renowned for its street fashion – you know, people who know how to throw an outfit together at a moment's notice.’ She looked down at her winter garb, purple parka with faux leopard-skin collar, lycra leggings, Emu sheepskin boots.

‘I'll miss it here, though – miss seeing you guys.’ She looked at David and David knew she was referring to himself and Sara, and most of all Lauren.

David smiled.

‘Kinda weird the things that bring people together, huh?’ she said, her eyes moving from David to Joe to Lauren, who was currently running around Arthur and Nora's feet at the other end of the patio.

‘You know, Deputy Superintendent,’ she said as her gaze returned to Joe, who she refused to call anything but Deputy Superintendent, ‘when I first met you, I thought you were an ass, but you and Frank are okay.’ She put her long fingernailed hand to her mouth as she looked down to see Lauren clutching at her leg. ‘Shit, I think I just said
ass
in front of a two year old.’


Shit
!’ said Lauren.

‘Shit, I said
shit
.’

Sara laughed as she pushed back through the door, their latest guests, Lisa Cavanaugh and her friend Lucas Cole, in tow. ‘It's okay, Madonna, I think she's heard worse.’

‘I curse in front of her all the time,’ said Lisa.

‘You gotta stop doing that,’ said Cole.

‘Jesus, Cole, I don't do it on purpose.’

Cole grabbed her and pulled her around to kiss her.

David rolled his eyes at Sara. ‘Apparently they're just friends,’ he said.

While they all laughed, Sienna turned her head sideways to look at David, indicating that if it was okay with him, she'd like to share a quick word in private.

‘You know we're leaving later tonight,’ she said.

‘Madonna's been packing all week,’ he smiled.

Sienna returned the smile. ‘David, I …’

‘It's okay, Sienna,’ he said.

But Sienna was shaking her head. ‘No. No it's not, and it probably never will be, but I need you to know that … that day in the courtroom, when you first introduced yourself, I knew my life and perhaps that of my children were in your hands and I … well, I just want you to know that you, and Sara … I expected a lot from you, but you went above and beyond what I … what I …’

David shook his head to silence her. ‘I'm just glad you found happiness, Sienna,’ he said, his eyes moving to Carlson, who was now feeding William his vegetables. ‘He's a good father, Sienna,’ said David.

‘Never thought I'd live to hear you say that,’ smiled Sienna before turning to take in Carlson as well. ‘I know they're not his kids, David, but it really doesn't make any difference to him.’

‘I think you're wrong,’ he said. ‘I think they are his kids.’

She nodded.

‘Before you go this evening,’ said David, ‘there's a package for William by the door. You can give it to him tomorrow.’

She met his eye. ‘You remembered.’

‘Not every day a kid turns one,’ he said, before lowering his voice a little. ‘I can only imagine what it was like for you – missing the first six months of William's life, unable to contact him, not sure how he was. You deserve to enjoy every birthday from here on in, Sienna.’

She went to smile but he could see the sadness in her eyes. ‘I miss her,’ she said. ‘Tomorrow will be hard.’

‘It will always be Eliza's birthday too,’ he said, ‘but one look at your little boy's smile will make it easier.’

She nodded before looking toward her husband and her son. ‘I know this is going to sound strange, but I consider myself incredibly lucky,’ she said.

‘You and me both,’ said David, as Sara moved across to join them, David reaching out to pull her close against the cold.

Sienna joined her husband then, as Arthur, Nora, Lauren and Madonna, carrying Caitlin, moved inside, and Joe and Simba made their way down to the yard to hit a snowball or two.

‘A penny for,’ said Sara after a time.

‘I was just thinking,’ said David, ‘how lucky we are.’

She smiled as she wrapped her arms around him and looked out at the group before them – laughing, joking, running red-faced around their new Brookline backyard. ‘You did this,’ she said.

‘What – turned my new backyard into a makeshift Fenway?’

‘You know what I mean,’ she said, as she reached up to kiss him softly on the cheek.

He hugged her tight. ‘Are you feeling okay?’ he asked.

She smiled. ‘A little tired, but it's a good tired,’ she said, her hands now resting on her swollen middle. ‘He's been kicking,’ she said.

David smiled.

‘He's gonna play rugby, just like his dad.’

‘He may not play rugby, but he will be just like his dad,’ she said.

He held her that much tighter then, as they enjoyed peace for a moment longer. And then the snow started to fall, the laughter began to rise and the voices of their friends drifted softly from the kitchen.

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