Keegan 00 Soft Case (30 page)

My thought process, though at times excellent, gets me in more trouble than anything else. While on my way to Geiger, I ran a bunch of scenarios through my mind as to what would happen when I got there. I thought he might be all smiles, then do something to the camera so I wouldn’t be able to use it. As hard as it was to believe Geiger would be in cahoots with Agnelli, I kept thinking that might be the case. After all, he had continued a bullshit investigation while I was gone. Another scenario included me beating the crap out of Rick, who I hoped would not be there. It was an entertaining scenario, as unrealistic as it was. Well, it wasn’t that unrealistic.

Here’s the thing with the tape. You see, even though I hated Agnelli and Chapman for what they had done to me and the countless other people who had gotten in their way, using the tape was a tricky thing. Once the tape got around, a lot of upheaval would follow, and I would become the focus of some major attention. No matter how good my intentions would be, many people would consider me nothing more than a troublemaker, someone whose only goal is to bring chaos. Not everyone would side with me and, as much as I could give a rat’s ass about what people think, I didn’t want my life to change so drastically. And it would, real fast.

Geiger would also be aware of such consequences. He might have told me to lay low with the tape and hope everything else works out. By doing so, he would raise more suspicions about himself in my mind, and I would be worse off than I already was. I’ll tell you, these things are never easy.

I was no more than four blocks away from the precinct when I decided to abort the mission. Meeting Geiger was the wrong idea, I had convinced myself, and even though it would cause chaos beyond my wildest dreams, the best thing to do was put the tape in the hands of someone who could bring it to the public, without anyone ever knowing it was me who did it.

From living in the city for so long, I knew where all the major networks were. I am no fan of network television, so I had no preference as to who got the tape. I made the decision based on location, and the closest network was NBC. I pulled up to the building where the fabled Rainbow Room was located, walked in the front door, and was greeted with yet another security guard.

“Can I help you?” the middle-aged man with a thick moustache said.

“Yeah, I need to speak to someone at NBC news.”

“You do, do you?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No.”

“Do you know who it is you need to see?”

“No.”

“Then I cannot help you.”

I was getting tired of this routine. Everywhere I went, I was getting some form of attitude.

“Listen, get on your phone there, and tell whoever it is that runs NBC news that someone is down here with substantial information regarding two very powerful people in this city. I’m no maniac or nut job, I just want to get this over with, okay?”

He looked at me sort of sideways, but I saw that he realized I meant business. After all, it wasn’t like I said I wanted to go upstairs or anything.

“Give me a minute.”

He got on the phone, and I walked around the entrance for a few minutes, figuring that he was going to tell me he was unsuccessful. It took a while, and I was outside smoking a cigarette when a guy in a white oxford shirt came to greet me. “Sir?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, extinguishing my cigarette on the sidewalk. “I’m told you have some information for NBC news?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Donald Mustac, assistant producer for NBC. I was on my way downstairs when the guy called up.”

“You know who Harold Chapman is?”

“Of course.”

“What about Richard Agnelli?”

“Heard of him.”

Mustac was playing this off smoothly.

I pulled the camera out of the case.

“This camera contains a conversation between the two which I think you and the rest of the city would find very interesting.” “Okay. And who are you?”

“An interested party who is uninterested in having his name go public.”

“Does this involve Mullins?”

Good question. “Not exactly.”

“What’s on there?”

“I think it would be best if you viewed it yourself.”

“Do you have another copy of the tape?”

“It’s not a tape, it’s digital.”

“Can I borrow that camera?”

“No. I need you to make a copy of it yourself.”

“And you want me to bring this public?”

“If you feel the need to.”

He looked me over for a second, and I saw a look of recognition in his eyes. How stupid could I be? After being in the spotlight with the Mullins case, I should have known that anyone involved in the media would recognize my face.

“I can’t afford to have my name attached to this.”

“I understand.”

“Can you make a copy?”

He nodded. “Come on upstairs.”

“I’d rather not. But I do need that back immediately.”

“Give me five minutes.”

I handed him the camera, knowing the risk I was taking by doing so, and lit up another cigarette. This guy could screw me royally, but I really had no other choice. I could have waited for Jacob to make me a copy, but I had made my decision, and had no other choice but to stick by it.

It took Mustac about twenty minutes, or three cigarettes if you want to count it that way. I had that burning feeling in the back of my throat from smoking too much in a short period of time.

Mustac came down with the camera and handed it to me. He had a strange look on his face, one of those looks that showed he was in deep thought.

“That was some interesting stuff,” he said.

“Told you.”

“I might catch hell for airing it.”

“That’s your call. I just want you to have it in your possession.”

“In case something happens?”

“Something like that.”

“I think I’m going to air it, so you know. Just in case that changes anything for you.”

“I appreciate the heads up.”

“No problem. Be careful.”

I put the camera back in the bag, shook Mustac’s hand, and went on my merry way. I knew he’d look at it while he copied it. It was impossible for someone in his business to pass up. Also, he might have thought I was full of shit, and just wanted to make sure I didn’t give him home movies of me porking my girlfriend. As interesting as those might have been, I don’t think they would have been of any use to him.

On the way to my car, I decided to call Geiger and give him an idea of what was going on. I wasn’t going to give my plans away, but, if he was actually on my side, I figured he could use the advance notice that something big might happen. I owed him at least that courtesy.

“Geiger,” he said when he picked up his line.

“Hey boss.”

“Where the Hell have you been?” he asked. He didn’t sound happy.

“Involved.”

“I’ve been catching shit because of you.”

“Nothing I could do about that. Sorry.”

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Listen, I don’t really know why what’s going on down there is so screwed up, but I have a good idea. And I have enough evidence to clear my name, but that’s not what is important right now.”

“What is important?”

“What’s important is that you know things might even get a bit worse. Well, a lot worse.”

“Really.” He sounded cool to me, almost as if I didn’t know him, and he didn’t know me.

“Really.”

“And why did you decide to tell me this?”

“Because I feel I owe it to you, and if you are involved in anything, you might want to prepare yourself.”

“Are you accusing me of something, Keegan?”

“Not at all. Let me put it to you this way. I know how department politics and all that go. I understand that honest men are put into compromising situations. If that’s the case with you, you better make sure your ass is clear of the fallout.”

There was a brief period of silence. I had put it in his lap. He knew I was aware of something, and if he was involved, he knew what to do. I really didn’t care either way.

“John, you’ve known me for years. You know how I operate. If you have something that will offer an explanation as to what happened to you, I’d like to know about it.”

“Keep your eyes glued to the news. You’ll find out soon enough. I’m counting on your trust.” Of course I wasn’t, but there was no need to let him know that.

“Okay. I hope you know what you are doing.”

“So do I, Boss, so do I.”

“Be careful, John. You’re already in enough trouble.”

“I will. And thank you.”

I hung up the phone, still having no idea where Geiger fit in to this whole thing. I didn’t give him enough to know what I was doing, but I had given him a warning. If he was in with Agnelli, then he would know what I was talking about, but wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

I didn’t want to be in his shoes, if that was the case.

I spent the next couple of hours running things through my mind. Steve Eckert would be waiting for me at Kasey’s, and if things went as I suspected they would, he’d finger Mullins’ killer, either by accident, or on purpose. I thought about the possibility of him lying to me, thus throwing my investigation, if that’s what you want to call it, completely off. I knew things about people, though, and I didn’t expect Steve to do that. Whatever he would tell me would be the truth.

Jacob met me an hour early, across the street, as planned. He had a slew of gadgets, including the microphone, a recorder, and several other pieces of small audio equipment. He came prepared. He looked nervous, and I felt the way he looked.

“Let’s get you ready,” he said, after we said our hellos.

“Let’s.”

He attached the microphone underneath the collar of my shirt, and when he was done, you couldn’t see a thing.

“I assume you have a pack of cigarettes on you.”

“I do.”

“Okay,” he said, taking one of the small objects. It wasn’t even as big as a book of matches. “You’ll keep this inside your pack of cigarettes. Of course, you don’t want him to see it.”

“I doubt he smokes.”

“Yeah, well, don’t let him see the inside of your pack.”

“What does that thing do?”

“It’s a long distance transmitter. The microphone only transmits over a distance of fifteen feet. This,” he said, holding the object in his hand, “can transmit over 100 yards. I’ll have a receiver hooked up to the recorder.”

“Where are you going to be?”

He pointed to a white van parked a store away from Kasey’s. “In there.”

“It’ll go through the building?”

“Without a problem.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

He fumbled with the recorder for a second. “We’re going to have to test this out.”

“That might be a good idea.”

He handed me the object. It was heavier than I expected. It felt and looked like solid copper. “You see that small white switch on the side?”

“Yeah.”

“Flip it up when you are ready. You’ve got a battery life of almost an hour, so try and make your conversation as quick as possible.”

“Got it.”

“I can give you another one, but you’ll have to notify me somehow, and then go into the bathroom or something. That could get risky.”

“Maybe you should give me it anyway. I don’t know how long it will take to get anything out of him.”

Jacob shrugged. “If you think so.” He handed me another one, which I slipped into the breast pocket of my shirt. “Okay, go outside, flip the switch, and start talking.”

“Do I have to direct my voice toward my collar?”

He laughed. “That wouldn’t be too obvious, would it? It’ll pick up on the closest voices it senses.”

“Kasey’s can get pretty loud.”

“I’ll handle that. Don’t worry.”

I walked outside, flipped the switch on the device, and placed it into my pack of cigarettes, which I held in my left hand.

“You want me to say something specific?” I asked, then looked toward him through the window. He shrugged. I didn’t know if that meant he couldn’t hear me or I could say whatever I wanted. The street outside was fairly noisy, so I figured this would be a good test.

“You know, I read somewhere that men who listen to a lot of classical music have small balls.”

I could see Jacob laugh.

“The study also said that such men are prone to high estrogen levels, making them act like bitches at certain times of the month.” He laughed harder.

“So you know, I have very large genitals.”

He started to laugh uncontrollably, and because I didn’t want to attract too much attention, I walked back inside.

“Nice,” he said, still chuckling.

“What I said is true.”

“Of course. Just ask your girlfriend how I am built.”

Good one, Jacob. I didn’t think he was capable of humor.

“It worked?”

“Perfectly. I really didn’t hear much in the way of ambient sounds while you were talking.”

“What if there’s music playing in the bar?”

“You should be fine.”

“I hope so.”

“Let’s just hope you hear what it is you want.”

“Amen to that.”

It was crunch time. Jacob and I had gone through the motions one more time, and we had set up a series of codes, in case I got into trouble, or if the battery died on the transmitter. Now, all I had to do was go across the street and make the whole thing happen.

I walked across the street to Kasey’s and opened the door. Luckily, there were only three guys at the bar and, from what I could tell, two tables on the left side taken. It was quiet, something else I was thankful for, and the bartender, John again, was staring at the TV screen. When I walked in, he looked at me and nodded. “How are you?” I asked.

“Could be better. My stocks are taking a beating, as usual.” If that wasn’t a sign of the times, a bartender with a stock portfolio, then I don’t know what is.

“I have no luck in Vegas or Atlantic City, so I don’t mess with those things.”

“It’s easy.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“Meeting someone?” he asked.

“Yes, I am.” I checked my watch. “Should be here in about ten minutes.”

“Need a drink?”

“Yeah. Get me a Dewars and soda.” I made a mental note to watch the drinks. The last thing I needed was to be plastered while I was trying to get information from Steve.