‘Welcome to my private hell,’ I said. ‘What am I doing here, by the way?’
Mahoney winked at me, and dropped down beside me.
‘You’re a rising star, or maybe a risen star. You know the drill. Get him talking. Keep him talking,’ said Mahoney. ‘We hear you’re real good at this.’
‘So what are you doing here?’ I asked.
‘What do you think? Watching, studying your technique. You’re the Director’s boy, right? He thinks you’re gifted.’
I took a sip of soda, then pressed the cold can to my forehead. Hell of an introduction to the FBI for the FNG.
‘Dennis, who wants to kill you?’ I spoke into the cell phone again. ‘Tell me all you can about what’s going on here. I also need to ask about your family. Is everybody all right in there?’
Coulter bristled. ‘Hey! Let’s not waste time on a lot of bullshit negotiation crap. I’m about to be executed. That’s what this is. Make no mistake. Look around you, man. It’s an execution.’
I couldn’t see Coulter, but I remembered him. No more than five eight, goatee, hip, always cracking a wise-ass joke, very tough. All in all, a small man’s complex. He began to tell his story, his side of things, and unfortunately, I had no idea what to make of what he was spilling out. According to Coulter, several detectives in the Baltimore P.D. had been involved in large drug pay-offs. Even he didn’t know how many, but the number was high. He’d blown the whistle! The next thing he knew, his house was surrounded by cops.
Then Coulter dropped the bomb. ‘I was getting kickbacks too. Somebody turned me in to Internal Affairs. One of my partners.’
‘Why would a partner do that?’
He laughed. ‘Because I got greedy. I went for a bigger piece of the pie. Thought I had my partners by the short hairs. They didn’t see it that way.’
‘How did you have them by the short hairs?’
‘I told my partners that I had copies of records – who had been paid what. A couple of years’ worth of records.’
Now we were getting somewhere. ‘Do you?’ I asked.
Coulter hesitated. Why was that? Either he did, or he didn’t.
‘I might,’ he finally said. ‘They sure think I do. So now they’re going to put me down. They were coming for me today… I’m not supposed to leave this house alive.’
I was trying to listen for other voices or sounds in the house while he kept talking. I didn’t hear any. Was anybody else still alive in there? What had Coulter done to his family? How desperate was he?
I looked at Ned Mahoney and shrugged my shoulders. I really wasn’t sure whether Coulter was telling the truth, or if he was just a street cop who’d gone loco. Mahoney looked skeptical too. He had a don’t ask me look on his face. I had to go somewhere else for guidance.
‘So what do we do now?’ I asked Coulter.
He sniffed out a laugh. ‘I was hoping you’d have an idea. You’re supposed to be the hotshot, right?’
That’s what everybody keeps saying.
Chapter Nine
The situation in Baltimore didn’t get any better during the next couple of hours. If anything, it got worse. It was impossible to keep the neighbors from wandering out on their porches to watch the stand-off in progress. Then the Baltimore P.D. began to evacuate the Coulters’ neighbors, many of whom were also the Coulters’ friends. A temporary shelter had been set up at the nearby Garrett Heights elementary school. It reminded everyone that there were probably children trapped inside Detective Coulter’s house. His family. Jesus!
I looked around and shook my head in dismay as I saw an awful lot of Baltimore police, including SWAT, and also the Hostage Rescue Team from Quantico. A swarm of crazy-eyed spectators was pushing and shoving outside the barricades, some of them rooting for cops to be shot – any cop would do.
I stood up and cautiously made my way over to a group of officers waiting behind an Emergency Rescue van. I didn’t need to be told that they didn’t appreciate interference from the Feds. I hadn’t either, when I was on the D.C. police force. I addressed Captain Stockton James Sheehan, whom I’d spoken to briefly when I arrived. ‘What do you think? Where do we go with this?’
‘Has he agreed to let anybody out?’ Sheehan asked. ‘That’s the first question.’
I shook my head. ‘He won’t even talk about his family. Won’t confirm or deny that they’re in the house.’
Sheehan asked, ‘Well, what is he talking about?’
I shared some of what I’d been told by Coulter, but not everything. How could I? I left out that he’d sworn Baltimore cops were involved in a large-scale drug scheme – and, more devastating, that he had records that would incriminate them.
Stockton Sheehan listened, and then he offered, ‘Either he lets go of some of the hostages, or we have to go in and get him. He’s not going to gun down his own family.’
‘He says he will. That’s the threat.’
Sheehan shook his head. ‘I’m willing to take the risk. We go in when it gets dark. You know this should be our call.’
I shrugged, without agreeing or disagreeing, then I walked away from the others. It looked like we might have another half-hour of light. I didn’t like to think about what would happen once darkness came.
I got back on the phone with Coulter. He picked up right away.
‘I have an idea,’ I told him. ‘I think it’s your best shot.’ I didn’t tell Coulter, but I also thought it was his only shot.
‘So tell me what you’re thinking,’ he said.
I told Dennis Coulter my plan…
Ten minutes later, Captain Sheehan was shouting in my face that I was ‘worse than any motherfucking FBI asshole’ he had ever dealt with. I guess I was a fast learner. Maybe I didn’t even need the orientation classes I was missing at Quantico. Not if I was already the ‘king of the FBI assholes’. Which was one way of saying that the Baltimore police didn’t approve of my plan to defuse the situation with Detective Coulter.
Even Mahoney had doubts. ‘I guess you’re not real big on social and political correctness,’ he sniffed when I told him Captain Sheehan’s reaction.
‘Thought I was, guess I’m not. Hope this works. It better work. I think they want to kill him, Ned.’
‘Yeah. So do I. I think we’re making the right call.’
‘We?’ I asked.
Mahoney nodded. ‘I’m in this with you, buddy – podjo. No guts, no glory. It’s a Bureau thing.’
Minutes later, Mahoney and I watched the Baltimore police very reluctantly pull back from the house. I had told Sheehan I didn’t want to see a single blue uniform or SWAT coverall anywhere around the Coulters’. The captain had his idea of what constituted acceptable risks, and I had mine. If they rushed the house, somebody would die for sure. If my idea failed, at least nobody would get hurt. Or, at least, nobody but me.
I got back on the phone with Coulter. ‘The Baltimore police are out of sight,’ I told him. ‘I want you to come out, Dennis. Do it now. Before they get a chance to think about what just happened.’
He didn’t answer at first, then said, ‘I’m looking around. All it takes is one sniper with a nightscope.’
I knew he was right. Didn’t matter. We had one chance.
‘Come on out with your hostages,’ I told him. ‘I’ll meet you on the front steps myself.’
He didn’t say anything more and I was pretty sure I’d lost him. I focused on the front door of the house and tried not to think about people dying here. C’mon, Coulter. Use your head. This is the best deal you’re going to get.