The Concrete Pearl (17 page)

I ignored the call.

“I’ve got to go, Tommy,” I said.

“You watch your back, Spike. Who knows what kind of worm can you pried open. Think about it. You found a shell casing and Marino knows it. Someone had to have fired a gun that produced that shell, for whatever reason. Maybe I always thought of him as a stuck up preppy dumbass, but let’s hope that the reason behind Farrell’s disappearing act ain’t got nothing to do with that shell casing.”

“Now I think I know what I have to do,” I said.

“What’s that?”

“Something I should have done yesterday. Instead of handing the evidence over to Joel, I’m going to hand it over to the police.”

Chapter 37

I spotted him standing beside my Jeep the moment I walked out the door.

Damien Spain planted four-square in the dirt lot, arms crossed over his ample chest. He locked eyes on me. Didn’t matter that he was wearing sunglasses. I felt his high beams on me from all the way across the lot.

No choice but to approach him.

“Word is you’re going to surrender yourself to Santiago,” he said.

“Stop following me,” I said.

I unlocked the Jeep door, put my hand on the opener, pulled it open.

He reached out, pressed his hand against the door, closed it back up.

I turned to him.

“What do you want from me?”

“Two minutes of your time,” he said. “I knew that if I called, you wouldn’t answer.”

“You find anything interesting inside my project trailer?”

His face turned visibly red.

I stole a glance at my wristwatch.

“One minute, fifty seconds,” I said.

“I told you I’m under the employ of Albany County to look into Farrell’s business practices. I was called to that meeting this morning at the project trailer by Santiago himself. Now that Farrell is officially registered with missing persons, I’ve been instructed to shift the focus of my investigation on behalf of the county. They want me to see if I can find out what the hell happened to him.”

“You and me both…One minute forty.”

“Ms. Harrison, do you have any idea why I haven’t been able to nail Farrell with anything substantial since my investigation switched from Tina Farrell to Albany County a few weeks ago?”

“You’re pacing yourself,” I said like a question.

“Not exactly,” he said. “It’s because I can’t get anyone who’s ever worked for him or with him to talk with me, much less come forward as an expert witness.”

“You ever seen an asbestos removal in progress, Spain?”

He shook his head.

“It’s not brain surgery. Mostly just some taping and prepping. A couple, three people can handle the removals. Farrell hired only temporary help…Transients, probably uncertified, probably didn’t know the first thing about proper removal procedures. Maybe he paid them in cash then fixed the books. It’s a no-brainer even for a genius like Farrell.”

“Transients would give him control of the situation, keep people moving in and out of the revolving door before they had a chance to snitch on his act.”

“Especially if the act involved cheating in exchange for a little under the table cash…Keep your trap shut of course.”

He was quiet for a beat.

Then, “Still, temporary or not, employees have eyes and ears. You would think one of them might poke their heads out from the dirt pile.”

“Spain,” I said. “These men and women are ten dollar an hour unskilled labor. They don’t want any trouble. They go where the work is. There’s no work, they take off. Or there’s trouble sticking to the work, they don’t hang around very long. Now if you’ll excuse me, I—”

“Wait, please, Ms. Harrison.”

One more glance at my watch.

“Fifty-three seconds,” I said.

He cleared his throat.

“You’re about to be indicted by Santiago for asbestos removal negligence and conspiracy to falsify asbestos removal and testing procedures, both of which carry hefty state penalties including possible prison time.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “If I decide to work with you in every way possible, you’ll spare me the burden of a drawn-out state investigation. But of course, I’ll have to pay a severe penalty. Am I getting warm Spain?”

He shook his head.

“That’s what Santiago will offer,” he said. “What I can give you is better.”

A last look at my watch.

“Twenty-five ticks…How much better?”

“I need a person who’s worked with Farrell. A person who knows the ins and outs of the construction trade. On the other hand, you need someone with an in at the DA’s office. Someone with solid investigative skills; someone with friends on the inside and solid resources on the outside.”

“So what is it you’re offering me, Spain? In exchange for my cooperation you’ll help me find Farrell, bring him back to Albany? Santiago know all about this?”

“Yes and no.”

“Which is it?”

“Santiago will approve my plan but not in public.”

“What do I get if I say yes?”

“Full immunity, no arrest, no fines. If we locate Farrell and uncover the people he’s been working with, you’ll be free of the heat…A clean slate.”

“What about Santiago? You trust him? What about the indictments? His pristine political future? His support of that PS 20 kid with mesothelioma?”

He smiled. For the first time.

“Santiago is a political peacock showing off his tail feathers. He saw opportunity for TV time and jumped at it.”

“Why?”

“Because now a woman construction project manager is involved and a woman is good press. A woman shows he’s an equal opportunity prosecutor.”

“What about those Albany County indictment wheels already set in motion?”

“My investigation will take precedence. Santiago will have to drop his indictment or else face obstruction of his own county investigated case. Farrell has performed removals in over ten different New York State towns and cities. He’s worked on public buildings, schools, libraries, restaurants, you name it. Who knows how many people could be infected with mesothelioma or asbestosis because of him?”

“Times up,” I said.

He uncrossed his arms, placed a hand on the Jeep door.

“Ms. Harrison,” he said, “in the end, you may very well be the only associate of Farrell’s I can persuade to come forward and testify. And in the end you’ll need someone who can prove on your behalf that you didn’t knowingly assist Farrell in contaminating that school.”

I rolled the car keys around in my hands.

“Have you presented this scenario to my lawyer?” I asked.

“I’m not that sneaky. I wanted to talk with you about it first.”

“That why you been following me?”

“Maybe it’s none of my business,” he said. “But far as I’m concerned, I would have fired Joel Clark, Esquire first chance I got after I found out about his cooperation with Santiago behind your back.”

I felt myself trying to bury my anger, but not succeeding.

He added, “Did you know Clark allowed Santiago to confiscate your bid files without a warrant? And that he claimed to be acting on his client’s behalf?” Shaking his head, disgusted. “Give me fucking break…if you’ll pardon my lingo, Ms. Harrison. But if I hadn’t convinced Santiago to give you a shot at working with me, you might be busted right now.”

I looked into his narrow face. I’m not sure what came over me, but I was beginning to like Spain. Rough spots and all. He seemed like a straight shooter. Something you don’t always come across in the construction industry. Or maybe he was just doing his job.

I opened the Jeep door, slipped behind the wheel.

“Give me a chance to think this all over,” I said.

“You always this stubborn?”

“I’d tell you to ask my dad, but he’s six feet under.”

“You don’t have much time,” he said. “You need me and I need you. You’re about to face a summons to appear in court before a grand jury. But I can spare you all of that if you agree to work with me.”

I fired up the Jeep.

“I’ll call you in one hour,” I said, pulling the door closed.

He backed away.

I burned some rubber.

Chapter 38

Spain had one very good point.

I should have fired Joel for acting without consulting me first.

But what Spain didn’t know was that, like Tommy, Joel had known me ever since I was a young pup. Back when he was a green lawyer just having passed the bar and newly employed at the firm for which he would one day become a partner.

Joel was used to acting on my behalf without my knowledge, especially considering I kept him on retainer. Just like my father had for years and years. Over the lifetime I’d known him, Joel hadn’t just gotten the Harrison Construction business out of a few scrapes. He’d also handled the occasional traffic violation including a DUI I managed to get nailed with back when I was still in college. When Joel managed to have the charges reduced to a speeding ticket, my father and I were elated. Since that time, I’d always looked up to him as a legal friend who would always be there if I needed him. So to fire him now was not exactly an easy decision for me.

There was also something else to consider.

I had three major lawsuits pending for the jobsite accidents that had occurred months ago, and that didn’t include the civil lawsuits that would surely arise out of the PS 20 asbestos contamination situation. Nor did it include the work that went into bonding the liens made against my bank accounts.

Who knew how many phone calls Joel had made or decisions he’d had acted upon on my behalf without my being the least bit aware of it?

Driving, I retrieved my new messages from my mobile.

Speak of the devil.

Joel, telling me what I already knew: that I could expect a summons to arrive via processor sometime that late afternoon. However, the sooner I turned myself in after receiving the summons, the more I would be perceived by Santiago as acting on good faith. Santiago would have no choice but to take my cooperation into consideration when it came time to dig up a deal.

But I wasn’t about to dig up a plea deal with Santiago. Without having to think about it anymore, I knew I was going to accept Spain’s offer to cooperate with his investigation. In a word, I was going to have to step out of my protective hardheaded shell and trust him. At this point, what the hell did I have to lose other than Santiago’s indictments? The way I looked at it, so long as I was working for the good guys, I could keep on searching for Farrell and my money.

Problem was, who the hell were the good guys?

Chapter 39

Back home I found a young man standing by the front entrance to my apartment building. Just an average looking college kid in jeans, sneakers and button-down, the tails hanging out. He was wearing those slim wraparound sunglasses you see a lot of construction workers wearing under their hardhats.

As I approached, he locked onto me with those alien sunglass-covered eyes.

“Ms. Ava Harrison,” he posed.

“Gee, that a yes or no question?”

He held out folded sheet of paper.

I took it in hand.

“You’ve been served,” he said.

He quickly pulled away from the door and  jogged across the green to the visitor’s parking lot.

I slipped the key into the lockset, let myself in through the front door, then down the short flight of stairs to my basement level unit. I let myself in, closed the door behind me, tossed the summons onto the living room desk, hard enough that it shot off the other side, crash landing on the wood floor. I pulled the Blackberry out, speed-dialed Joel’s office.

“Joel Clark,” I said when the receptionist answered.

He came on the line.

“I’ve been served,” I said.

“Standard operating procedure,” he said. “Meet me at my office in one hour. Santiago’s office is in the old county building slated for demotion later this year. It’s down a ways from mine on Pearl Street. We’ll head there together on foot.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” I said.

Dead air filled the connection.

Until Joel said, “I don’t understand.”

That’s when I told him about my meeting with Spain.

When I was through, Joel exhaled.

“I don’t know the guy.”

“You were with him this afternoon when they sequestered my files.”

“The hooligan in the black leather jacket?”

“That would be him.”

“I still don’t know him and I don’t know about any investigation on behalf of the county into Farrell’s business, secret or not. But I do know this: even if Spain’s polishing Santiago’s helmet head on a daily basis, it doesn’t mean he can protect you. It also doesn’t mean that Santiago still won’t come after you when all is said and done.”

“Spain gave me his word that the DA’s office would take a back seat to the county investigation,” I said, not sure I believed it myself.

“But it’s no guarantee they won’t prosecute you down the road. Especially if they feel certain you and Farrell were working together to cheat the system.”

“That’s not going to happen,” I said.

“Spike, listen to me—”

“No you listen to me, Joel. Since I’m getting nowhere trying to find Farrell on my own, Spain is going to help me find him, arrest him, put him in prison. Get it?”

“So you’re using Spain?”

“Damn straight. And Spain is using me. It was either that or go to the police with my side of the story and my evidence.”

“You were going to surrender the evidence to me, Spike.”

“Not anymore,” I said. “If anyone gets it, it’ll be Spain.

“Spike, you don’t know him.”

“No I don’t. But I do know we both need to find Farrell. And after the golden boy is busted I’m going straight to the
Times Union
and Channel 13 to expose precisely how I’ve been set up to take the blame for something I did not do.”

“I need to find out more about this Private Detective Spain character and if he’s really been meeting with Santiago and why I’m the last to know about it.”