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Authors: R.J. Ellory

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Parrish
was back in the office by four. Radick greeted him with, 'Valderas has taken
the paperwork to Haversaw. He says we should be able to get the help we need
from LA.'

'But no word
about a week or two for us in the sunshine?'

'Dreaming,'
Radick replied.

'Did you even
suggest it?'

Radick
didn't answer the question. He merely rolled his eyes and then asked after
Parrish's dental appointment.

'I don't floss
enough,' Parrish said.

They
waited for word back from Valderas but it didn't come before six. Radick said
he had a thing going on. Parrish let him go.

It
was in the silence of the office, Radick gone, the other detectives out doing
whatever they were doing, that Parrish's thoughts turned back to Caitlin. He
would have to rebuild the bridge. She wasn't going to do it. As far as she was
concerned time away from her father was time away from questions about where
she was going to wind up working. When was he going to accept that she was an
adult, she had her own life, that she was going to make her own decisions and
there was little he could do about it? Never, that's when. That was the thing
with fathers and daughters. That was just the way it was. The brightest of all
his days, the darkest of all his nights.

He
lifted the phone to call her, decided against it. Last
time
he'd seen her was six days prior. That
Thursday night, the
way
he
went for Radick, how he proceeded to kick take-out food
all
down the stairs. He closed his eyes as a
sense of quiet shame
came
over
him.

Parrish lifted the phone again
and
called a different number
This
time she picked up.

'Eve.'

'Frank. How are you?'

'I'm okay, Eve, I'm okay. I've
called a
few times.'

'I know, Frank, I've seen your
number. I've been busy, you know? Real busy. I have a thing tonight,
an
hour or so and I have to leave.'

'Could I come over?'

'You driving yet?'

'No.'

'You take the subway, Frank, and
by the time you get
here It'll
be
time for you to leave.'

'I can get a cab.'

'I have to get ready, Frank. I
need to take a shower, dry my hair, get changed.'

'Tomorrow?'

'Tomorrow I'm working, Frank, and
then Friday I'm going upstate to see my mom for a little while.'

'You're giving me the brush-off—'

'It sounds like it, Frank, but
I'm not. It'd be good to see you, but things have been a little crazy . . .'

'For me too, Eve, for me too.'

'But you're okay? Everything's
okay with you?'

'It's fine.'

'I know that tone, Frank.'

'Go to work, Eve. Call me when
you get back.'

'You're not going to give me
anything are you?'

'You don't want my hardships,
Eve. Jesus, I don't even understand why you put up with me.'

'Because I know you. I know what
you're trying to do. I saw what happened to you when Mike was killed—'

'Enough already. We're not having
this conversation again.'

'That's what you always say,
Frank, the point being that we never really
did
have that conversation in the first
place.'

'Go to work, Eve. Have a good
time with your mom. Call me when you get home.'

'Now
who's giving who the brush-off?' 'Take care, okay?'

Parrish leaned forward and hung
up the phone. He felt that pain in his lower gut. He knew what would kill that
feeling, and he knew exactly where to get it.

SIXTY-SI
X
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, 2008

 

'How
much did you drink?'

'Who
says I drank anything?'

'I'm
not a fool, Frank. Look at you. It's easy to see when you've had a bad night.'

'Half
a bottle maybe.'

'And
what started you off? You were doing better with that.'

'I
thought about calling Caitlin and I couldn't. I then called a friend who I was
hoping I could see and they had plans already.'

'Loneliness?'

'God
knows. Something. I got to thinking about my father. I got to thinking about
how many wrongs make a right. I got to wondering whether this case would ever
break.'

'Where
are you at now?'

'No
further forward really. We need to get inside his house, his bank account. We
need to get a helluva lot closer than we already have, that's for sure.'

'And
you have no leverage to do that?'

'No,
not yet.'

'Did
you do something you shouldn't have?'

'Like
what?'

'Did
you cross a line, Frank? Did you talk to someone you shouldn't have? Did you
get some information from someplace—'

'Everything
we talk about here is confidential, right?'

'Of
course it is. You know that.'

'Even
though you are a department counsellor?'

'Yes,
even though I'm a department counsellor.'

'I
have your word on that?' 'You don't need my word, Frank, it's the law.'

'I
still want your word.'

'Then
you have it.'

'Then
the answer to your question is yes, I got some information.'

'From
someplace you shouldn't have been?'

'Yes.'

'You
shouldn't be doing that.'

'I
don't need to be reminded of that.'

'Your
father—'

'My
father and I are nothing alike, Marie. Let's get things into perspective here.'

'You
don't think he started down that route by doing something he shouldn't have?
Planting evidence. Shoot an unarmed guy and then stick a knife in his hand. You
don't think they all began that way.'

'You
think my father did something like that and then it got worse and worse?'

'That's
the way it starts, Frank.'

'Not
with my father. Like I told you, he was the worst you could imagine right from
the get-go.'

'Okay,
we're not talking about your father anymore—'

'He
and I are different, okay?'

'There's
no need for you to be defensive.'

'Say
it.'

'Say
what?'

'Say
that me and my father are different.'

'Of
course you're different. No two people—'

'You
know what I mean, Marie. Say it.'

'Okay,
Frank, okay. You and your father are different.'

'Good.
Okay. So what was your next question?'

'This
information you got - irrespective of where you got
it
from - did it make anything clearer?'

'Yes.'

'It
confirms your suspicions about this - what was his name?'

'McKee.
Richard McKee. And no, it doesn't confirm anything,
it
just gives me another lead to follow.'

'But
you still have nothing probative, nothing that tells you
he
is definitely your guy?' 'No, I
don't.'

'So how does that feel?'

'Feels like bullshit. That's what
it feels like. Feels like so many other situations I've been in. You know
something but you can't do anything about it.'

'Like your father.'

'Yes, like my father.'

'And if you
were
your father, what would you do?'

if I was my father . . . Jesus, I
don't know, maybe go over there, beat the crap out of the guy, tell him the
game was up and extort as much money out of him as I possibly could. Either
that, or kill him.'

'You think that's what he'd do?'

'Yes, more than likely.'

'But you're not him.'

'No.'

'So what are
you
going to do?'

'I'm going to follow the rules
and color inside the lines and say "Please" and "Thank you"
to everyone I meet—'

'Really, Frank. What are you
going to do.'

'I'm going to get him in again
and ask him some more questions. I'm going to put some more pressure on him
and see if we can't make some cracks show. That's what I'm going to do.'

'Today?'

'Yes, today.'

'What makes you think he'll
co-operate?'

'The simple fact that perps like
to be as close to the police as they can be. Either they're scared and they
want to see what we've got, or they're arrogant and they want to see how they
can continue to outwit us.'

'And which category does your guy
fall into?'

'Both. I think he's a good bit
scared and he's arrogant as well. I think he's done this before, many times,
and he's got away with it, and now he's wondering whether his lucky streak has
come to an end, or if we're just chasing everything we can in the hope that we
get something.'

'You think he'll crack?'

in here? No, I don't think so.
But you put enough pressure on these guys and they start to fuck up. They get
over-cautious and that's when things go wrong.'

'But
how will you know what he's doing if you're not following him? I presume you
have nothing that warrants surveillance.'

'That's
right.'

'So—'

'If
I happen to be over that side of the city, and I just happen to see him—'

'That's
illegal, Frank.'

'So
is abducting girls and strangling them on video.'

'I
don't know what to say.'

'You
don't have to say anything, and if you are good to your word then you
won't
say anything.'

'I'm
good for my word, Frank. That's not the problem here. The problem here is
whether you are.'

'My
oath as a police officer?'

'Exactly.'

'Let
me worry about that, Marie. Right now it seems to me that the end will justify
the means.'

'I
could apply that to the situation I have with you.'

'Sure
you could, but if you go blab your mouth off then I'll get suspended again, and
then McKee will do whatever the fuck he likes because no-one is really
interested in the guy but me.'

'Maybe
there's a reason for that.'

'He's
the guy, believe me. He
is
the guy.'

'I
hope you're right, Frank, I really do. But what I hope even more is that you
get him legally and legitimately, and you don't go dig an even deeper hole for
yourself than you already have.'

BOOK: Saints Of New York
2.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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