Denouement (11 page)

“What did he say? How did it go down?” I asked.

“Well, I brought it to the attention of my captain, and he went straight to Blok to question him on the topic. When DeMartino, my captain, came back and talked to me, he just said that Blok acted as if he didn’t have a clue. We talked it over and kind of decided that maybe we should bring in Iris to talk about it. DeMartino goes to tell Blok that we’d like to ask her a couple of questions, and he’s gone.”

“Did anyone see him leave?” I asked.

“A few guys from the bullpen said he just got up from his desk and walked out the front doors. We sent a few guys over to his house to look for him. We’ll find him and get to the bottom of it.”

“Keep me in the loop,” I said.

“Will do.” He clicked off.

I hung up the phone.

“The sergeant ran?” Hank asked.

“Might have. They asked the guy about his girlfriend, and he vanished shortly after.”

Hank sniffed the air. “That smells like guilt.”

I nodded. “Go let Bostok know that Miami PD has a sergeant that might be connected to the Azarovs and in the wind. Maybe Bostok can request a little extra pressure in finding this guy. I’m going to give Faust a buzz and see if he’s ever heard of him.”

“Name again?” Hank asked.

“Sergeant Ivan Blok.” I spelled the last name.

“Got it.”

Hank left my office.

I dialed Faust, who answered within a couple rings.

“Faust.”

“It’s Kane. Have you ever heard of an Ivan Blok? He’s a police sergeant down in Miami.”

“Ivan Blok. The name doesn’t sound familiar.”

“So he’s never come up as any kind of person of interest?”

“No. Like I said, I’ve never heard of him. What did you find?”

“Well, I couldn’t get over the time-and-weather thing. There were too many of these guys calling it. It was just too odd. So I called an acquaintance down at the Miami PD that’s familiar with the Azarovs and asked if he’s ever heard of this woman that the phone number comes back to. He proceeded to tell me that it’s this Sergeant Blok’s girlfriend.”

“Hmm,” Faust said. “Interesting.”

“What’s more interesting is that it looks like the sergeant decided to run right after the topic was brought up to him by his captain.”

“I’ll put in for his phone records and have a couple of my guys do a little sniffing into the man himself.”

“Good idea,” I said. “Did you get anything on your end?”

“We’ve been trying to hunt down any video in the area of my house to see if we can get Azarov driving anywhere. So far, nothing. It’s tumbleweeds on that front. I have a couple guys that are out in undercover work with their ears to the streets. I’m their first contact if they hear the slightest peep of the name Azarov. It’s just eating at me that he got away. I had him, but I let him get to me. That’s why he got away. I should have just tuned him out and held his ass at gunpoint until my guys showed up.”

“I have to ask, why didn’t you just cuff him?”

“I damn well would have if I’d had a set.”

“You don’t have a pair of handcuffs?”

“Not at the house,” he said. “I guess you could say that I’m in the process of moving.”

I didn’t press the matter. I didn’t know enough about his personal life for it to be any of my business. “So how are you feeling?” I asked.

“Some bumps, bruises, and a couple of stitches. I’ll make it.”

“Good. I’ve had my share of brawls with him. He’s no joke.”

“Meh,” Faust said. “The guy is all power, no brains. If my hands weren’t wet, things would have gone down a little differently.”

I didn’t really know how to take his comment or how to respond, so I changed the topic. “Okay, well, let me know on those phone records, and I’ll let you know when I hear back from the Miami PD.”

“Sure thing,” Faust said.

I hung up and heard Bostok and Hank talking through the glass window separating Bostok’s office from mine. I pulled myself from my chair and walked next door.

Bostok looked up at me as I walked in. “I just got off the phone with Captain DeMartino at the Miami department.”

“And?” I asked.

“I gave him a little background on the situation. They are going to track Blok’s cell phone to see where he is.”

“Good,” I said. “Did you get anything else from the captain there as far as what was said between him and Blok?”

“He basically just told me the same story that you heard. They approached the topic of this guy’s girlfriend in connection with the time-and-weather phone number and website. The sergeant disappeared shortly after. The captain told me they sent a few guys to his house in search. They were also going to make a stop at this Iris Sanchez’s apartment.”

“Okay,” I said. “I just got off the phone with Faust. He’s going to do some digging into Sergeant Blok and see what he can come up with.”

“This guy was never on the FBI’s radar?” Bostok asked.

I shrugged. “Faust said he had never heard of him.”

“Well, if he is involved, which it appears as if he is, he’s obviously done a good job of covering his ass,” Hank said.

“We should find out soon,” I said.

“Hank said that Azarov was in Faust’s house last night?” Bostok asked.

“Yeah, I guess I didn’t get to tell you about Ray breaking into Faust’s house. Faust said he put a beating on him and then tied him up.” I paused. “But, apparently not good enough because Ray broke free, returned the beating on Faust, and got away. I got the story from Faust in the middle of the night while he was being stitched up.”

“Why wasn’t Azarov cuffed?” Bostok asked.

“That’s funny you mention that. I just asked Faust the exact same thing. He says he didn’t have a pair at home.”

“What?” Hank asked. “I probably have, like, five sets at my house.”

“He said he was in between moving or something. I don’t know.” I shrugged.

“Is he all right? You said that Ray took the fight back to him?” Bostok asked.

“He says he’s fine. And yeah, he described putting a pretty good licking on Azarov, so apparently, he can handle himself.”

The captain scrunched his face.

“What?” I asked.

“I just kind of always figured Faust for a desk jockey,” Bostok said.

“Who knows,” I said.

“Maybe he’s like a super spy or something. Or maybe a government assassin,” Hank said.

“I think a desk jockey that’s trained in martial arts is probably a little more realistic, Hank,” Bostok said.

“Yeah, maybe,” he said. “Or a super spy assassin.”

I shook my head at Hank then looked back at Bostok. “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something.”

“Yup,” the captain said.

I headed back to my office. At my desk, my voice-mail light was flashing though I hadn’t heard the phone ring. I clicked the button to play the message. It was from Harrington, letting me know they had a location on Blok. He said he’d call me as soon as he knew more.

Two hours had passed since Harrington left me that voicemail. I tried calling him twice. The last time, the person I spoke with said he was in an interview. All I could do was wait.

I filled the time with talking to Callie and every other family member I had at the hotel in hiding. Each asked if I knew how long they would be there. All I could tell them was that we were tracking down every lead we had.

My desk phone finally rang a few minutes after noon. I reached over and scooped it from the receiver. “Lieutenant Kane,” I said.

“Hey, it’s Harrington calling back.” He let out a big breath. “We just wrapped up round one of questioning with Blok.”

“And? Is he involved?” I asked.

“Yeah, he’s involved. We got a hit on his cell phone from Miami International before the signal went dead. Luckily, we had patrol guys in the area. They caught up with him and his girlfriend at a ticket counter, buying airfare to London.”

“What’s in London?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I think they were just trying to hop on the first flight anywhere out of the country.”

“Well, is he talking?”

“He’s singing. What do you want to know first? What he told us as good faith or what he’s trying to save his ass with as a bargaining chip?”

“Bargaining chip,” I said.

“He says he knows where Azarov is staying. He’ll give us the address for a deal.”

“How old is his information on Azarov?”

“He says Azarov is there now but won’t be for long.”

“What does he want for a deal?”

“Immunity.”

“Is that even on the table?” I asked.

“We have a district attorney en route to the station as we speak. He’s going to figure out something—maybe a deal contingent upon Azarov in custody. Immunity is a stretch, though. I’ll keep you updated on that and, obviously, call you the second we have an address. I’d probably get the wheels turning on your search warrants and getting your guys ready as soon as we get off the phone. That way, you can fill in an address for the warrants and go.”

“What makes you think it’s in my jurisdiction?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot that part. Blok says Azarov is in downtown Tampa. Like I said, I’d get everything going. I’m guessing we’ll have an address within the hour.”

I let out a breath. “I’ll make the arrangements as soon as we get off the phone. What was his good faith? Anything of use?”

“It was about the time-and-weather number. Did you ever call it?”

“Yeah. I called once,” I said.

“Did you notice that the time was off? Or the weather was off?”

I thought about that for a moment. “Honestly, I don’t think I even paid attention to that.”

“Well, I’m sure it was. Blok said that it was all a code.”

“Code?” I asked. “What do you mean?”

“Each minute ahead of the true time meant one thing. Each minute behind the true time meant something else. It’s the same thing with the weather. Sunny had a certain meaning. Partly cloudy, another. Rain, again, another meaning.”

“What did it mean?” I asked.

“Blok said he has a cipher at his house that has all the different meanings. When you would combine the time with the weather, it basically gave you a message in code. The members of Azarov’s organization, as well as Azarov himself, would call in to get the message and then go from there. It could be for a meeting, the status of a deal, or something as simple as requesting a call in.”

“That all sounds like a hell of a lot of an effort. Why not just call each other on burner phones or something?” I asked.

“Hell, I don’t know. I didn’t put the damn thing together,” Harrington said. “To me, it sounds like some old-school KGB kind of stuff. At least with them calling in to their little message board, it makes it hard for police to directly connect a lot of the people to each other.”

I thought about my hours spent staring at cell-phone records. I wondered how many others had been calling the time and weather for messages. We needed a list of all the incoming calls. “I’m going to call my contact over at the FBI and have him look into the incoming calls. Do you have anything else?” I asked.

“We’re in the process of getting search warrants for Blok’s and Iris Sanchez’s residences. Maybe we’ll find more there. But right now, we’re just waiting on the district attorney.”

“Okay. I’ll start getting things going here. Let me know the second Blok gives up that address.”

“Absolutely,” Harrington said.

“Here, let me give you my cell phone number in case I’m out of the office or on the other line,” I said.

“Sure.”

I rattled it off and hung up. Then I stood and headed next door to Bostok’s office.

He was sitting at his desk, plugging away at something on his computer.

“Cap,” I said.

He looked up and adjusted his glasses on his nose. “What’s the word?” he asked.

“I just got off the phone with Harrington. They caught up with Blok trying to get out of the country.”

“Is he talking?” Bostok asked.

“Yeah. He says Azarov is staying somewhere in downtown Tampa but won’t give up the address until he gets some kind of a deal.”

“What’s he asking for?”

“Harrington said immunity. They were going to try to put something together contingent upon Azarov in custody.” I shrugged. “All I know is that their DA is on his way to the station to work something out. Harrington seems to think we’ll have an address within the hour. Do you think we can get the wheels turning for a warrant?”

“You’re sure this is in our district?” Bostok asked.

“I’m just going off of what Harrington said. Downtown Tampa.”

“Okay. I’ll make a few calls. You’ll probably want to talk to Timmons and have him set aside a few guys to help if this pans out.”

“It’s my next stop,” I said.

Bostok nodded and picked up his desk phone. I left his office and headed over to Timmons’s desk. After a quick talk, with him agreeing to call in a couple of guys from SWAT, I headed back to my office, where I sat and dialed Faust.

He picked up right away. “Kane, I was just about to call you.”

“Find something?” I asked.

“We found video of him driving a few miles from my house.”

“What’s he driving?” I asked.

“We picked him up on an intersection camera, driving an old dark-colored Toyota. It looks like a mid-nineties Camry. Florida plate.”

“What’s that plate?” I asked.

Faust gave it to me. I jotted down “mid-nineties, dark, Toyota Camry” in my notepad along with the plate number.

“We already ran it,” Faust said. “It comes back as stolen. That’s the reason for my call. You guys have cars with the ALPR system, right?”

“Yeah. We have a couple of cars with it,” I said.

“Can we get them running around town?”

“Yeah, I’ll call the sergeant over in patrol as soon as we get off the phone.”

“Great. Did you pick up anything on your end?”

“Yeah, actually, I have something for you to look into if you can,” I said.

“What’s that?”

“Finding all the numbers that called into the time-and-weather place in Miami. It was being used as a form of communication between Azarov and his associates.”

“How do you know?”

“The guys at the Miami PD picked up the sergeant who tried to flee. He’s definitely connected to the Azarovs and talking for a deal. From what he said, they were using the time-and-weather phone recordings as a way of communicating.”