FORGOTTEN (23 page)

Frankfurt, Germany

0630 Hours

T
he seven-and-a-half-hour flight to Frankfurt was smooth and uneventful. Both Pat and Mary slept a little, but they were kept awake somewhat by the constant pampering in business class. The food was incredible, and the big comfortable seats made the flight more relaxing. About an hour from Frankfurt, they completed customs declarations and German immigration forms. It was barely daylight as the big Airbus touched down at Frankfurt Airport.

Unlike most American airports, they exited down a flight of steps and got on a tram to the terminal. Once inside the terminal, they had to clear immigration, pick up their checked baggage, and go through German Customs. They were able to walk through without being stopped. The Frankfurt terminal was very modern with vintage German aircraft suspended from the ceiling. Most of the planes were early bi-planes with a few small jets, but there was a noticeable absence of anything from the Nazi era.

Pat spotted Herb Mueller talking on his cell phone. Herb was dressed in a black, leather blazer and a white shirt and tie. His blond hair made him look German. Herb quickly ended the phone call and smiled, reaching out to shake both their hands. He spoke with a slight German accent.

“Welcome to Germany, Chief O’Connor, and Mary, it’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s also nice to meet you, Herb, and we sure appreciate your help.” Mary said, with a smile.

“It’s my pleasure, and it’s good to talk to some NYPD folks in person.”

Pat got right to business.

“What’s the plan, Herb?”

“I have some business to take care of at the airport, but I’ll take you guys to the hotel and let you get some rest. I’ve already arranged for an early check-in. I’ll meet you back at the hotel around one o’clock, and we can go over the case and head down to Diedesfeldt. We can meet in your room, Chief. You should have a suite with a large table.”

“I’m impressed, Herb.”

“They look after us at this hotel. A lot of Americans stay here.”

“That sounds good, Herb. I appreciate you helping with the hotel.”

“It’s my pleasure, Chief.”

The hotel was close to the airport. Herb pulled into the circular drive in less than 10 minutes. Pat and Mary retrieved their luggage and walked into the hotel with Herb. The clerk immediately acknowledged them.

“You must be Mr. O’Connor and Miss McDonald. Your registration is already filled out, with Mr. Mueller’s help. I just need you to sign here, and we should be fixed.”

They quickly signed the registration, Pat gave a credit card for both rooms and they both had rooms on the third floor. Pat entered his suite. It was impressive. There was a large desk and a table. The bedroom was private with its own door leading to an American-style, king-sized bed. Pat sat down at the desk and pulled out his laptop. He had wireless service, so he sent a quick email to Maggie. “
I just checked into the hotel. The flight was great. We had Business Class! Love you, Pat.
”

Pat hung up his clothes and turned down the covers. A few
hours sleep would be good. He called for a wake-up call at noon. He could sleep four hours.

Chapter 64

Wednesday, March 30 - Day 71

Intercontinental Hotel

Frankfurt, Germany

1200 Hours

P
at woke up in a daze. The jet lag had kicked in, but the four hours of sleep in the big bed had been good. He quickly showered and got dressed. He decided to dress casually, since they might be involved in surveillance later in the day. He called Mary, and they agreed to meet in the lobby for a cup of strong, German coffee. They had their coffee and were headed back upstairs when Herb Mueller walked into the lobby. They shook hands with each other and headed to Pat’s room to tighten the net around Daniel Pellegrino. Pat knew that NYPD Detectives on foreign assignments had the primary responsibility of responding to terrorist incidents overseas, in order to better prepare the NYPD in case of parallel targets in New York. The second role was to funnel any intelligence to New York which might impact the city.

When they got into the room, Herb took his jacket off. Pat was surprised to see he was carrying a very large, semi-automatic in a shoulder holster. NYPD cops were not allowed to carry firearms on overseas assignments. Pat was baffled and asked the obvious question.

“How do you get away with carrying that hardware, Herb?”

“It’s a long story, but I knew you’d be interested. I was born in Germany. My mother is German and my father was in the U.S. Air Force. So I have dual citizenship. I went to the German
Polizei Academy for two and a half years. I worked for three years and when my father retired, they moved back to the United States. I eventually moved to New York to live with them, and I tested and joined the NYPD. After 9/11, the Anti-Terrorism Bureau was started and because of my language skills, I applied and was sent to Paris to work with the French police. However, Frankfurt is such a crossroads in Europe that thousands of people fly out of Frankfurt every week bound for New York. I moved here to Frankfurt, and my wife and I have been living with her parents. I have a special relationship with the Special Services Branch, and my German police powers were reinstated kind of ‘under the table’ although I technically work for the NYPD. There are guys in my unit who don’t even know that. It gives me great flexibility, and I don’t have to be distracted in my work by the frequent anti-American sentiment. I assure you, Chief, I’m 100 percent New York cop.”

“I’m certain of that, Herb. These are difficult times and we have to be creative at finding solutions that help us nail the bad guys. Well, let’s get to work.”

They sat down at the table and opened their files. Herb Mueller revealed what he had learned. “As best we can tell, Daniel Pellegrino has been in Germany for about 13 months. He’s going under the name of Daniel Zimmerman. He’s not employed that we can tell, and he owns the cottage he’s living in.”

Herb took out some photographs and showed them to Pat and Mary. They revealed a traditional German cottage with a beautifully tiled roof, stucco walls and a tiny yard. Pat shook his head.

“It looks like old Daniel is living the good life.”

“A very low-key one, I might add. I saw him on Tuesday morning after you called. He was standing in the yard. I’m sure it was him. He looked just like the pictures you sent me. Light sandy hair and wire rimmed glasses.”

“So Herb, how do we keep his FBI buddies from interfering?”

“We’ll try to circumvent them. If he’s living under an assumed name, that’s a crime in Germany. We can arrest him for that. In the meantime, we contact the U. S. Marshals’ liaison with Interpol in Lyon, France. You send a request through the Marshals for him to be extradited, and by the time the Bureau finds out about it, we’ll have him locked down. Of course, we’ll drop the German charges, and allow him to return to the United States. They’ll be hard pressed to interfere.”

“That sounds like a plan that just might work.”

“Just for information, I have his cottage covered with cameras, front and back. They were put up last night. So far, he hasn’t been out of the house. So I suggest we take a ride and see if we can scoop him up. We’ll grab some lunch on the way. It could get busy later.”

Chapter 65

Wednesday, March 30 - Day 71

16 Ober Strasse

Dedesfeltd
, Germany

1500 Hours

H
erb stopped at a restaurant just outside of Frankfurt and the three of them enjoyed a hearty German meal of roast pork and potatoes. They talked about work and life in Germany for Herb, while Mary filled him in on the latest NYPD gossip, to a limited degree, so as not to upset the Chief of D’s.  After an hour, they were back on the road and shortly before 1500 hours, the steeple of the church in Dedesfeltd was visible in the distance. This small Renaissance-era town was surrounded by vineyards, being one of the largest wine producing areas in Europe.

As they entered the town, it all looked so familiar to Pat O’Connor.

“It’s just like I remembered, although I haven’t been here since the late 90’s.”

As Herb maneuvered the Mercedes through the tiny cobblestone streets, they passed the Fest Hall.

“If we went inside the Fest Hall there is probably a picture of me playing trumpet with a New Orleans jazz group. The last time I played here, it was hanging just inside the door.”

Finally, Herb slowed the Mercedes and Pat and Mary
nsensed they were getting close.

“When we turn the next corner, Pellegrino’s cottage will be about half a block up on the right. The address is 16
Ober Strasse. I won’t slow down much, but we’ll take a peek.”

They passed the cottage and saw nothing. Herb continued to the edge of the town and parked in a supermarket parking lot. He reached under the seat and flipped up a small laptop which was mounted to a swivel arm. He pressed a few buttons and a split screen appeared showing two views of 16
Ober Strasse. Now they would wait.

The supermarket was crowded with the town’s people. German women usually went to the market daily to buy food for dinner. Dinner was often the only hot meal of the day, with breakfast and lunch consisting of bread, cold cuts, and cheeses.

As darkness set, the cottage was still visible in the monitor, but there were no lights on. Pat thought of how much time he had spent in a car on surveillance when he was a detective in Queens. The smells were the same, cigarettes and black coffee. Pat and Mary didn’t smoke, but Herb Mueller, like many in Germany, smoked constantly. At 2230 hours, Herb received a call from another German detective. He was in position for the night. Herb fired up the Mercedes, and headed out of town. Pat was frustrated.

“What’s the plan, Herb?”

“Karl will watch the monitor until tomorrow around 1000. If Pellegrino is not spotted, we’ll pick it back up. Hopefully we’ll spot him in the next couple days.”

“Why don’t we just knock on the door?”

“I had rather catch him out of the house to avoid a stand-off.”

“It’s your call, Herb.” Pat assured him.

They headed back toward Frankfurt on the Autobahn. Mary was sleepy, but couldn’t sleep with Herb pushing the Mercedes at over 100 miles-per-hour. Pat, on the other hand, loved the adrenaline rush. 

Chapter 66

Thursday, March 31 - Day 72

16
Ober Strasse

Dedesfeltd
, Germany

1000 Hours

P
at slept like a rock and was up early. He checked his emails and called the office and updated Bryan Flannery. He met Mary in the lobby for a hearty breakfast buffet, and they were picked up by Herb Mueller at 0900 hours. They zipped down the Autobahn and were soon back in the familiar town of Diedesfeldt.

The night surveillance team had not spotted any sign of Daniel Pellegrino. There were no lights and no cars. Herb Mueller was insistent on continuing the surveillance. As Pat got restless, he began to ask a lot of questions.

“Does he have a land-line phone we could call and see if he answers?”

“Not that we know of.” Herb said, shaking his head.

“How about a car? Do we have any idea what he drives?”

“We haven’t seen a car. My guess is he would have a rental.”

“Is there any chance he’s not in there?”

“Of course it’s possible, but I think it’s unlikely. We put these cameras up in the middle of the night and we’ve had someone monitoring them continuously.”

“I’m just getting a knot in my gut that something has gone wrong.”

“I think it’ll be okay, Chief. Mary, do you want to weigh in on this?” Herb asked.

“I’m probably more patient than the Chief, but I’d like to have some more options. He only has the entire planet as a getaway plan.”

Herb tapped his cigarette pack on the dash. It was 1130 hours. Pat’s cell phone buzzed for the first time in Germany.

“Pat O’Connor.”

“Hello, Chief, have you had any luck?” Bryan Flannery asked.

“Not really, but we’re still on task.”

“Are you sitting down?”

“Why do I not like where this is going?”

“Daniel Pellegrino just withdrew $50,000 from a bank in Manhattan.”

“Are you sure it’s him?”

“I’ll send you the photos.”

“Hold on, Bryan.”

Pat handed the phone to Herb Mueller.

“Give Captain Flannery your email address.”

Herb gave him the address and handed the phone back to Pat. In a few seconds, Herb received a message from Bryan Flannery. He opened the message and then several photographs attached. It showed a clear picture of Daniel Pellegrino inside the bank. Herb reacted.