“Where else can we get photos?”
“The girl who was in today-Lydia’s roommate,” Rocco said. “Mike’s right. Bring her back over here and nail down a description of the guy she saw fighting with Lydia. Drag her boyfriend in, too.”
“How come no one has mentioned the word ‘guns’?” I asked. “With NorthStar in his background, he’s bound to be armed.”
“That’s our worst nightmare, Alex. It’s on all of our minds,” the lieutenant said, wringing his hands. “But at this very moment, there’s not a thing we can do about it, except prepare all the details coming in on the search.”
“And clear the terminal,” I said. “For whatever good that will do.”
“Monday morning may be too late to pull all this information,” Rocco said. “I’ll get a man assigned to contact all the agencies and business links first thing tomorrow. Somebody has to be minding the store on weekends. Meanwhile, the stationmaster is trying to find out where Blunt’s mama is and to locate his siblings-see whether they’re still around.”
“Anybody check Match.com? ‘Likes track rabbits; likes to dance. Could be terminal.’ There are all kinds of selfies on those sites,” Mike said. “We can’t meet the feebs without a photo. They’re bound to have one they’ll want to shove down our throats to show how superior they are.”
This time I heard footsteps approaching the room.
A young woman entered, wearing a Metro-North police uniform, with the nameplate Y. FIGUEROA on her chest, below several merit decorations. She held up a hand to all of us. “Police Officer Yolanda Figueroa.”
The lieutenant introduced himself to her and to everyone else in the room.
“I’m your charge,” I said, eyeing the Glock holstered on her hip. She was shorter than I by two or three inches, with curly black hair and light brown skin. “I’m Alex Cooper.”
“Good to know you.”
“Same here. Nice of you to do this.”
“All right,” Rocco said. “Let’s get you guys going. Time’s running out on us.”
I shut down the computer and pushed back from the table, standing up between Pug and Mike.
“Not you, Alex,” Rocco said, pointing to the chair I’d been sitting in. “Commissioner Scully was firm about that.”
“He was what?”
“You’re to handle all the interagency contacts, if you want to stay here till we close the terminal. Do all the research you can for us online. Put your tail in that chair and Officer Figueroa here will make sure you’ve got everything you need.”
I couldn’t protest to Keith Scully if he wouldn’t give me an audience. “The district attorney is so not going to like this,” I said, doing a slow burn as I seated myself again. “You know how he hates to be the last to know what’s going on.”
“Yolanda just needs to make sure you’re boarded on the nine fifty-nine to Vickee’s house. See if she can teach you to scramble up some eggs for breakfast. Chances are Mercer and I will be there in the morning for a victory celebration,” Mike said, flashing a grin at me. “You’ve been grounded, Coop. Sit down and fasten your seat belt.”
THIRTY-SIX
“Are you in a safe place?” Paul Battaglia asked.
“Completely fine,” I said. “I’ve got a terrific policewoman keeping me company in the situation room, helping me surf the Internet for more info about Blunt. I wanted to tell you what’s going on here and give you the number for this landline.”
I was fiddling with my cell phone, which I’d placed on the tabletop, but it was showing no signs of life in this inner sanctum of the terminal.
“Thanks.”
“And that Scully has cut me out of the program, Paul. I was thinking maybe you could give him a call, let him know that you’d prefer I stay on the case, in the meetings with the FBI and all that, rather than sticking me up here in an isolation booth.”
“The commissioner’s in a better position than I am to know what’s going on. All I want from you is a steady flow of information. If Scully and his men get lucky, I need to be up to speed for the media. You understand that?”
“Of course I do.” I left out the observation that Battaglia was all about smoke and mirrors. The substance didn’t matter at all if he had the appropriate sound bites when the time came.
The team had been gone only about ten minutes when I heard footsteps again. I turned my head to look in the doorway and saw that Mike had returned.
“Hey, did you forget something?” I said, happy to see him. “Coming into the girls’ locker room without knocking? Scully wants us up here because Yolanda and I are such delicate-”
“Scully’s the man, Coop. You wanna step out here for a minute?”
“Is this my ticket to ride?”
Mike rolled his eyes and motioned to me. “Over here, please.”
Yolanda was on her feet. “Are you taking her somewhere, Detective? ’Cause I need to stay with her.”
“You sit tight. I just have some instructions to relay from the police commissioner. We’ll be right here in the hallway, and I’ll deliver her back to your capable hands.”
I got to my feet and walked toward Mike, talking to Yolanda. “Didn’t you ever see High Noon? The sheriff thinks he’s the only guy who can save his town. Has to put the little woman on the last train out of Hadleyville to keep her away from danger. There’s always a final speech with these guys when they suit up to meet the gunslinger,” I said. “I guess I’m headed for that train.”
Mike grabbed my arm and pulled me into the hallway, laughing at me. “Don’t flatter yourself, Coop. You’re no Grace Kelly.”
“You find the gunslinger?” I asked, as Mike closed the door behind me. “Is that what you’ve come to tell me?”
“I’ve got a confession to make.” He backed me against the wall, in between a pair of rusted steam pipes. “I have to tell-”
“Just don’t start with a ‘come to Jesus’ speech now, okay? I am so not in the mood for that.”
“I know.” He was running his fingers through his hair.
“You’ve got serious work to do. You’ve got to find this sick bastard before he hurts somebody else. So if you’re up here to feed me more bull-”
“I lied to you. That’s what I want you to know.”
“Somehow, I think I did know that, Detective. I can’t believe that I actually fell hook, line, and sinker for the old ‘sick mother’ bit.”
“Look, I did get the twenty-one-day rip, okay? That was all true. The commissioner wanted me publicly hung out to dry.”
“Thank you for that really pleasant reminder of your affair.”
“It’s not fair to call it that, Coop.”
“No, but it’s more tasteful than the alternative.”
“I went to Ireland first, okay? You know that part is real.”
“Phone calls from Dublin numbers. Postcards stamped and marked from Derry and from Ballydesmond. Brilliant tradecraft, Mr. Bond. Must be true then, mustn’t it?”
“You and that hair-trigger temper. If it wasn’t so annoying, it would be almost attractive.”
“But it’s not the least bit attractive. It’s just all I’ve got in me at this point. So why not step aside,” I said, pushing against Mike’s chest, “and go find Nikolay Blunt. Why does any of this matter right now?”
“’Cause it’s been eating at me, okay? I hate to see you this way, this wound up. You’ve been working like a dog on these murders, and you should be with us when we get this guy.”
I raised my eyes to see if Mike was joking. “For real?”
“Yeah. But I’m not in control of that. I’m working on Scully, Coop. I really am.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Okay, I’ll buy the part about the three-week rip in Ireland. And the lie?”
Mike leaned one hand against the wall, beside my right shoulder, while the other continued to brush back his hair. “You know about the ILP?”