Night Fall (28 page)

“I told you-I’m going to resign.”

“No, you’re not. And even if you do, would you leave New York and come with me to Dallas, or Cleveland, or Wichita?”

“I’d follow you anywhere. I’ve never been west of Eleventh Avenue. It could be fun.”

She looked at me to see if I was being serious, which I was not. I said, “I’ll get a security job in a department store. Or, here’s another choice-tell Koenig to go fuck himself.”

“That is not a good career choice. Look, I could file a grievance, or plead hardship, but the easier thing to do would be to take the temporary overseas assignment. It won’t be more than three months. Then, I come back, the slate is clean, and we go on with our lives and our jobs here.” She added, “I made Jack Koenig promise that you’d get a two-year contract renewal here in New York.”

“Please don’t negotiate my contract for me. I have a lawyer for that.”

“I’m your lawyer.”

“Then I’ll tell
you
what to do. Not vice versa.”

She took my hand and said, “John, let me take the overseas assignment. Please. That’s the only way this is going to work for us.”

I squeezed her hand and said, “What am I supposed to do all alone in New York?”

She forced a smile and said, “Do whatever you want. But keep in mind I’ll have ten agents watching you twenty-four/seven.”

I returned the smile, and thought about these interesting developments. Basically, Kate Mayfield and John Corey-two mere mortals-had offended the gods, who had now decided that we should be banished from the Acropolis restaurant to the nether regions of Africa and the Middle East. Or, we could lie down in front of a steamroller. I said to Kate, “Why don’t
you
resign?”

“I’m not resigning. And neither are you.”

“Well, then, I’ll volunteer to go to Tanzania with you.”

“Forget it. I already asked. That’s not happening.” She looked at me and said, “John. Please. Let me go and please don’t resign. At least wait until I get back.”

I made a snap and stupid decision and said, “I wouldn’t feel very good about you being in Africa while I was living here in the lap of luxury. So, I’m going to volunteer to go to Aden. That’s in Yemen.”

She looked at me a long time, then said, “That’s very sweet… very…” She was getting upset, and she let go of my hand and dabbed at her eyes with a paper napkin. She said, “I can’t let you do that. There’s no reason for you to… I mean, this was all my fault.”

“This is true. But, I knew what I was getting into. I just didn’t think they’d shut us down so soon. They should be so thorough with terrorists.”

She didn’t reply.

“So, we’ll take separate assignments, come home fit and tan, and pick up where we left off.”

She nodded slowly, then asked me, “How do you know they’ll accept your offer to go to Yemen?”

“They need to staff up there, and they’re having trouble finding people to volunteer.”

“How do you know this?”

“Stein mentioned it to me.”

“He… why…? Did he
ask
you to go…?”

“He suggested it. Which is a hell of a coincidence.”

“You jerk.” She actually kicked my shin under the table and said, “Why didn’t you tell me that-?”

“Hold on. Stein’s offer to send me to Yemen is irrelevant. I turned him down and told him I was resigning. But, now, since you’re intent on holding on to
your
job, I’ll go to Yemen and you go to Tanzania.”

Seemed logical to me, but I could tell she was still fuming. I reached for her hand, but she pulled it away and crossed her arms over her chest. That’s usually not a good sign.

The crockery crashed again, and an older couple who had just sat down in the booth across from us jumped. I hoped the Acropolis had a defibrillator.

Kate stewed awhile, then calmed down and said coolly, “All right, then. It’s settled. We take temporary assignments-which may actually do us some good-and we put this problem behind us.”

“Think of this as a positive career move for both of us,” I said. “And you’re right-two or three months separation might do us some good.”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“Neither did I.”

We held hands across the table, and she reminded me, “You have to see Jack.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“I have until Tuesday to get my affairs in order. How long will you need?”

“To get my affairs in order I’d need about ten years. But I’ll shoot for Tuesday.”

“I need to get a series of inoculations. And I have to call the travel office today.”

“Me, too.”

She said, “When I was single, I didn’t care where I was assigned or where I had temporary duty.”

“Me, neither.”

“You were a New York City cop.”

“Right. But I had to do two weeks in the Bronx once.”

“John, be serious.”

“Okay. I’m seriously pissed off. They’re using each of us to get rid of the other and to shut us up. This was a warning. The next time we won’t get off so easily.”

“There’s not going to be a next time. This case is closed. Closed.”

“I agree.”

“Say it again.”

If I said it again, I’d have to mean it. The thing that really pissed me off was that the marriage knot was being used by Jack Koenig to tie my hands. This was a new experience for me. I said, “I’m not a good loser.”

“Cut the macho shit. The case is closed. I opened it. I’m shutting it.”

“Okay. I’ll never mention it again.”

She changed the subject and asked me, “Do you think there’s anything new on the Cole case?”

“Not that I know of. I’ll be briefed over there.”

“They have some new leads on the embassy bombings in Tanzania and Kenya. There’s no doubt that this organization, Al Qaeda, was behind the bombings and we’ve captured two prime suspects who are talking. Al Qaeda, as you know, was also involved with the Cole attack.”

“Right.” I called the waitress over, ordered a toasted corn muffin with butter to go, and asked for the check.

Kate said, “These assignments may be punishment, but maybe we can do some good over there.”

“Right. We’ll wrap it up and get home early. You want more tea?”

“No. Are you listening to me?”

“I am.”

“You need to be careful over there. It’s a hostile country.”

“I’ll feel right at home. You be careful, too.”

“Tanzania is a friendly country. They’ve lost hundreds of their citizens in this embassy attack.”

“Right. Okay, you leave first. I’ll be along in ten minutes.”

She slid out of the booth, stood, kissed me, and said, “Don’t get into a pissing match with Jack.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She left, I finished my coffee, got the corn muffin, paid the bill, and got some loose change.

I was beyond pissed off-I was calm, cool, collected, and looking for revenge.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Out on Broadway, I went to a pay phone and called Dom Fanelli’s cell phone.

He answered, and I asked, “Can you talk?”

“I gotta get to a double homicide on West 35
^th
, but for you, I’ve got time. What’s up?”

I never know when this guy is jerking me around, and he’d have the same complaint about me. I said, “I need you to find three people.”

“I’ll find four for you.”

“First person, female, last name Scarangello, first name Roxanne. That’s S-C-A-”

“Hey, I’ve got four cousins named Roxanne Scarangello. What do you got on her?”

“College grad, maybe grad school, UPenn or Penn State-”

“What’s the difference?”

“How the fuck do I know? Just listen. Late twenties, came from the Philly area, and may still be down there. Born June, no date, no year.”

“That’s it?”

There was no reason to tell him about her summer employment, which would send him to the Bayview Hotel, which I didn’t want. I said, “That’s it. Check the universities first.”

“Duh. You think?”

“Second person, male, last name Brock.” I spelled it. “First name Christopher. He’d be about thirty-five. No DOB. Works or worked in the hotel industry. Last known address about five years ago was Long Island.”

“That’s not much.”

“He had a tattoo of a mouse peeking out of his asshole.”

“Oh,
that
Christopher Brock.”

“Third person, female, last name Gonzalez Perez, first name Lucita. I don’t have a spelling. Hispanic, obviously, country of origin El Salvador, immigration status unknown, age about twenty-three or — four, worked in the hotel industry.” I added, “You’re not going to have much luck with that one. Concentrate on the first two.”

“Okay. What’s this all about?”

“I can’t say, Dom.”

“Can I guess?”

I didn’t reply.

Fanelli said, “So, I called Harry Muller, just to say hello and how do you like working for the Feds. And we get around to John Corey, and he says you’ve been acting strange. And I say, ‘What’s so strange about Corey acting strange?’ And he says you’ve been AWOL the last few days, and he’s passing on verbal messages to your wife. Even stranger, you bought two kielbasa sandwiches for you and him, and you didn’t eat yours. Then he calls me this morning and says Stein spoke to you in his office, and now you’re AWOL again, and he’s waiting for a toasted muffin. So-”

“Don’t you have to get to a double homicide?”

“Nah. They’re not going anywhere. So, from all this, I conclude that you’re poking your nose into TWA 800.”

I was a little taken aback, but replied coolly, “How could you conclude that?”

“Easy. I just put it all together.”

“Put
what
together?”

“Oh, and you asked Muller if he worked the TWA case, and you told him you went to the memorial service, and I know Kate worked the case, and so did Marie Gubitosi. And now you want a make on a guy named Brock who lived on Long Island five years ago. Coincidence? I think not. I’m seeing a pattern here, John.”

Sometimes I forget that the Blue Network works both ways, and I forget that Dom Fanelli is a smart cop. I said to him, “You should be a detective. Okay, see what you can get me on those names.”

“How soon do you need this?”

“About two months.”

“I should know in about two weeks. Maybe two days. I’ll call you.”

“Take your time. I’m going to Yemen for a couple of months.”

“Where the fuck is Yemen?”

“It’s on the map.” I added, “I’m being shipped out to teach me a lesson about following orders.”

“That sucks. Maybe you should follow orders.”

“I am. I’m going to Yemen.”

“Is that like Staten Island?”

“Yeah, but the Feds have a bigger beat. Also, Kate’s going to Africa for the same lesson.”

“Mama mia. You guys got screwed. Hey, I’ll keep an eye on your apartment while you’re gone.”

“I’ll give you a key to keep an eye on it. But do not use it as a love nest.”

“A what? Hey, paisano, what happens to me if the Feds get wise that I’m looking for these people? Do I get a free trip to Yemen?”

“They’re not going to find out. You don’t have to question these people or make any contact with them. I just need to know where they are. I’ll take care of it when I get back.”

“You got it. Let’s have a beer before you leave.”

“Not a good idea. I’m hot at the moment. I’ll leave my apartment key in the building manager’s office.”

“Okay. Hey, is this worth it?”

I understood the question and replied, “I wasn’t sure at first. But I just got kicked in the balls by the system. So now I’ve got to kick back.”

He stayed uncharacteristically silent for a while, then said, “Yeah. That I understand. But sometimes you’ve just got to take the hit.”

“Sometimes. But not this time.”

“You got something new on that case?”

“What case?”

“Okay. When are you leaving?”

“Probably Tuesday.”

“Call me before you leave.”

“No, I’ll call you when I get back. Don’t contact me while I’m there.”

“I don’t even know where the fuck this place is. Tell Kate bon voyage. See you when you get back.”

“Thanks, Dom.” I hung up and walked back to 26 Federal Plaza.

The definition of insanity, as someone once said, is doing the same thing every time and expecting different results.

By that definition, I was really crazy.