Parker 05 - The Darkness (15 page)

Gazette.
Can I ask you a few questions?"

Kaiser turned to glare at me, barely breaking stride. "I

have nothing to say to you," he sniffed.

"Can I ask you what you know about 718 Enterprises?

Do you know a man named Stephen Gaines?"

Kaiser stopped, turned to face me. His eyes were

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cobalt-blue, but there was an anger in them that went well

beyond that of a businessman annoyed at a prying reporter.

"Listen here, you little prick," he said. "I don't know

who the hell this Gaines fellow is, and I sure as hell am

not going to talk to you about anything else. I--"

"So you know about 718 Enterprises."

"That's not what I said."

"You denied knowing Stephen Gaines, but didn't

deny being aware of a company that was allegedly paying you for lease space in your office building. Why not

deny that as well?"

"Like I said, I have nothing to say to you."

"One question," I said. "One question and I'll leave."

Kaiser held a moment. I could tell that this man hated

being shackled by a "no comment," didn't believe he had

to bow to anybody or pretend his nose was clean. He ran

his business the way he chose, and he'd be damned if

anybody else told him that he might have erred on the

wrong side of the law.

"One question," he said, "and then if I ever see you

again I'll have your job taken away faster than you can

clean all this mud off of you."

Cute line, I thought. It never ceased to amaze me that

men like Kaiser could so calmly keep potentially devastating and illegal secrets, yet somehow I was the bad guy.

"Why?" I said. "Why take their money? Your practice

seems to be thriving. Why take the risk?"

Kaiser opened his mouth, but just as I expected a

lengthy response, a beautiful gem that would perhaps

unravel the spool just a little more, his cell phone rang.

When Kaiser looked at it, I could have sworn his face

went pale. He shoved it back into his pocket, looked at

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Jason Pinter

me and said, "Goodbye, Mr. Parker," and walked inside

the building and disappeared into the elevator.

I stood there, trembling, angry that I had felt so close

to getting him. Don came up to me and said, "Sweet

guy, ain't he?"

"Yeah, he's going on my Christmas list for sure." I

watched as the elevator light clicked, bringing Brett

Kaiser to the twentieth floor. I eyed the windows facing

the street. No doubt Kaiser had a great view. Then the

curtains were drawn closed, and I figured Brett Kaiser

was looking for a little privacy.

"Thanks, Don. I appreciate the help. Keep up the good

work, and thanks for being agreeable."

Don laughed. "Gotta tell my wife that one. 'Honey,

a reporter told me I was agreeable.' Not sure if that will

win me points at the dinner table, but it's a good conversation piece."

"The least I could do," I said. "Take it easy, Don."

I walked to the corner, thinking about my next move.

I wasn't going back quite empty-handed. Even in his

non-answer, Brett Kaiser had confirmed that he was well

aware of 718 Enterprises. I believed him when he said he

didn't know about Stephen Gaines. If my brother was

involved in some sort of drug trade, his work on the street

was twenty floors below Brett Kaiser's penthouse.

I was about to call Jack when I felt my cell phone vibrate.

Assuming it was Jack calling me, I took it out, looked at

the caller ID. I didn't recognize the number, but it was from

a 646 area code. It wasn't Jack; he had a 917. Might have

been somebody from Kaiser's firm calling to threaten me,

could have been a wrong number. Either way it seemed like

a good time to screen my calls. I didn't want to waste any

time on a conversation that wasn't vital to the investigation.

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121

When the phone stopped vibrating, I waited for the

little envelope to appear that signaled I had voice mail. I

called it, plugged in my security code and listened.

And at the first word, my blood ran cold. I knew that

voice. Hadn't heard it in a long time, but there was no way

I'd ever forget it. I hadn't spoken to her in almost a year,

when I was dragged kicking and screaming from her office

after she'd tried to ruin the life of the man I admired most.

It was Paulina Cole.

"Henry, this is Paulina. You know the last name, so I

won't keep you. We need to talk. Off the record. It's important. You know damn well it's important because you

can bet I don't like calling you any more than you like

hearing this message. But we need to talk."

She left her cell phone number and home phone number. Not her work number. I couldn't believe her audacity

in calling me, but the fact that she only left her private

lines clearly meant something was up. Something she

didn't want her bosses at the
Dispatch
involved in.

And while I was making my mind up whether to call

her back, Brett Kaiser's apartment exploded in a massive

orange fireball that shot flaming debris half a block and

cascaded smoke down upon Park Avenue.

16

"Who was that?" Morgan asked.

Chester closed the phone, putting it gently back into

his coat pocket. He looked at Morgan blankly and said,

"Just checking my voice mail." He then offered a smile.

"I didn't hear voice mail pick up," Morgan added.

"You one of those dogs, hear high-frequency pitches

and everything?" Chester asked.

The Town Car hit a bump, and Morgan gripped the

armrest. "No."

"Well, that's too bad. Because when dogs hear something, they don't ask questions. But if they start barking,

that's when their owner is bound to get upset. You get

me, Morgan?"

"I get you."

"Good," Chester said. He looked out the window. They

were heading toward the Queens-bound midtown tunnel.

Morgan could make out the East River, Roosevelt Island.

Morgan had never considered living outside of the

city. If he was going to be a power broker, a master of the

universe, he had to live within the castle walls. But now

the powers that be were trying to evict him, trying to get

him to leave the grounds he so desperately wanted to

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remain on. They'd taken his job, his livelihood, his dignity. It was up to him to figure out a way to stay.

So if Chester wanted to bullshit him about who he

was calling, that was fine. Morgan didn't need to know

everything. As long as the paychecks cleared, that's all

that mattered.

"We're almost there," Chester said. Morgan nodded,

looked out the window across the river.

Somewhere in the distance, he could hear fire trucks

screaming.

17

For at least a minute, I couldn't hear a thing. The ringing

in my ears pounded like I was being pummeled by a

hammer, and shutting my eyes and clasping my hands

over them didn't do a thing. A dozen of us had run to the

corner, under the scaffold of a construction site, to escape

the brick and ash that was dropping from the sky like

small mortar shells.

I looked up at the Park Avenue building, still shocked

to see the gaping hole where Brett Kaiser's apartment had

once been. Where just a moment ago I'd seen his blinds

close. Where just a moment ago I'd questioned the man

about his potentially illegal dealings with a company that

may or may not have been responsible for the death of

my brother.

Where a man and his wife once resided. Where at least

one of them was now dead.

As the world slowly came back into focus, I could hear

the sirens of police cars and fire trucks speeding to the

scene. Onlookers stared at the building with masks of

horror. Mouths open wide, hands covering them, tears

streaming down their faces.

Then I saw Donald, my new good friend, standing

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across the street, his face covered in soot, his lower lip

trembling as he watched flames lick at the open space

where there used to be a window.

Dozens of people were pouring out of the building,

screams and cries when they saw the devastation above

them. Some people wondered whether it was a terrorist

attack, or another prop plane accidentally banking into a

residential building. I wasn't sure if the truth, that Brett

Kaiser had undoubtedly been murdered, would comfort

them or make it worse.

When the first cop car pulled up, four officers exited

and stood outside of the building looking up. One of them

was barking into a walkie-talkie. I watched a small piece

of gray ash float down and nestle itself on his brown

mustache. He didn't notice. The other cops looked at it

for a moment, then turned back to the burning building.

A fire truck pulled up, and immediately nearly a dozen

of New York's finest went to work hooking the hose up

to a hydrant in front of the building. As they did this, I

walked over to the cop car. When he noticed me coming,

one of the officers turned to me.

"Sir, we're going to have to ask you to step back. We

don't know how much damage there's been to the structure of the building."

"I understand that," I said, taking my wallet from my

back pocket. I slid my business card out and handed it to

him. "My name is Henry Parker, and I'm with the
Gazette.
"

He rolled his eyes and prepared to hand the card back

to me. "Mr. Parker, I--"

"I spoke with Mr. Kaiser. Just minutes before this happened. I don't know if I was the last person to speak with

him but...I thought someone should have this in case they

need to get in touch with me. If there are any questions."

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Jason Pinter

The cop looked at my card, understanding. He nodded,

then slipped it into his uniform. "I'll give it to the lead

detective," he said.

"Thank you," I said. "And good luck."

He nodded, turning back to the gaping hole in the

brick building.

I walked a few blocks away, making sure I could hear

right again and was away from the commotion that would

surely envelop that area for the next few days. I took out my

phone and called Jack. He picked up on the second ring.

"Hey, Henry, good timing. Brett Kaiser left about

twenty minutes ago. I think he's headed toward you. I

didn't get much, but if you--"

"Brett Kaiser is dead," I said. There was a pause on

the other end.

"Wait...what did you say?"

"I said he's dead, Jack. I caught up with him about ten

minutes ago when he pulled up in front of the building.

I talked to him for about thirty seconds, then he went

upstairs. And less than a minute after that, somebody

turned his apartment into a gigantic barbecue pit."

"Wait a damn minute," Jack said. His voice was

uneven, shaky. I'd never heard Jack like this before.

Scared. It put a lump in my stomach, as the enormity of

it all began to sink in. "You're saying somebody killed

Brett Kaiser?"

"A few times over," I said. "Somebody wanted to make

sure he didn't have a chance to talk to anyone. But I do

know that he knows about 718 Enterprises, and if I'd had

him another minute he would have spilled everything."

"Jesus, be careful, Henry. It's possible somebody saw

him talking to you."

"Wait, no way, how could they..."

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127

"Don't be stupid," Jack said. "If someone knows he was

talking to you, they might think he told you something."

"But he didn't," I said, pleading my case with nobody.

"Whoever killed him doesn't know that," Jack said.

"Be careful. Meet me back at the office in half an hour."

"No can do," I said, unsure of why I was going to do

this but sure that I needed to.

"And why the hell not?"

I couldn't tell Jack. If he knew, it would toss our whole

relationship into jeopardy. But we had the same blood,

the same gene that refused to allow us a moment's breath,

that refused to give us rest if there was one unanswered

question. But Paulina had nearly ruined his career. And

he couldn't know.

"I have to meet someone," I said. "A source. I'll be

back in a couple hours. We'll catch up then."

"Fine, Henry. But watch your back."

"I will," I said, and then hung up to go meet the one

person I was absolutely sure would never have my back.

I opened the phone back up, and called Paulina Cole.

18

The diner smelled the same as I remembered it. Diners

never changed, but I had a history with this one.

Fried onions, eggs, hash browns, stale coffee. Today

was only the second time I'd ever set foot in here, and

once again my only companion would be Paulina Cole.

I wasn't a big fan of diner food in general, with the exception of Sunday mornings when a late breakfast consisting of a mushroom-and-Swiss omelet with a cup of