Vector (43 page)

"Paul and I had a momentary disagreement, " Jack said. "But thanks to you, I think it's ironed out, so to speak." Paul wagged his finger at Jack's face the way he had with Laurie.

"You're going to hear from me about this, " he snarled. "Mark my words!"

"I'll look forward to it, " Jack said.

"Paul, why don't you just leave? " Laurie said. "Unless you want to be arrested, please go! I've called security." Paul straightened his tie and tucked his matching pocket square back into his breast pocket.

The whole time, he kept his eyes glued to Jack.

"You've not seen the last of me, " he spat. Then turning to Laurie he said with equivalent venom, "And I'll talk to you later." After squaring his shoulders he started down the hallway toward the elevator.

Jack, Laurie, and Chet watched him go.

"What was this all about? " Chet asked.

Neither Jack nor Laurie responded.

"Did you really call security? " Jack asked.

"No, " Laurie said. "I was about to when I heard Chet's yell. It's better this way."

"Thanks for coming when you did, Chet, " Jack said.

"Glad to help, " Chet said. "Anybody want a potato chip? " He held the bag out for Jack and Laurie. Both shook their heads.

"Would you like to talk? " Jack asked Laurie.

Laurie nodded. "I would, actually."

"Chet, old sport, " Jack said, giving Chet a pat on the back. "Thanks for being the cavalry, and I'll see you back at the orifice in a few minutes."

"Orifice" was a comical malapropism for "office" that Jack and Chet frequently used when speaking with each other.

"I can sense when three's a crowd, " Chet said. He set off, happily munching his snack.

Laurie led the way back into her office. She closed the door behind Jack. "I hope you don't mind me shutting you in here like this."

"I can think of worse fates, " Jack said.

Laurie enveloped Jack in a sustained hug. Jack hugged her back.

"Thanks for being a friend once again, " she said after a full minute of silence. She released her grip, gave Jack a crooked smile, and then sat down. She got a tissue out of one of her drawers and dabbed at her eyes.

She shook her head. "I hate it when I cry, " she said.

"It seems to me to be rather an appropriate response after having to put up with that kind of behavior." Laurie shook her head in dismay.

"I can't believe it. I'm flabbergasted. Just three days ago it was sheer bliss."

"What happened? " Jack asked. He leaned against Laurie's desk.

"Last night at dinner I tried to have a conversation with him about what you and Lou told me, " Laurie said. "It didn't work. It immediately became confrontational."

"That's not a good sign, " Jack said.

"Don't I know, " Laurie said. She dabbed at her eyes again. "It made me feel he was hiding something, and that idea was bolstered by his behavior today. I shouldn't have let him in, but he called up from downstairs saying he wanted to apologize. Some apology! "

"What do you think he's hiding? " Jack asked.

"I'm not sure, " Laurie admitted. "But I think he might be selling illegal Bulgarian AK-47 assault rifles." Jack whistled. "That's bad news! "

"That's an understatement, " Laurie said. She shook her head.

"I suppose I could deal with his being an arms dealer if I understood it had some legitimate purpose for national defense. I certainly could forgive a past run-in with the law about cocaine possession, provided he wasn't still using the stuff. But I'd never tolerate his selling illegal assault rifles or guns of any sort to private people, particularly kids.

It turns out that skinhead, Brad Cassidy, who I posted on Monday, had also been involved as some sort of middleman with those Bulgarian guns."

"My word, what a coincidence, " Jack said.

"And you know my feelings about gun control, " Laurie added.

"Indeed, " Jack said. "So what does all this mean for Laurie Montgomery?"

"I don't know exactly, " Laurie said with a sigh. "I suppose I'll let things slide with Paul and try to talk to him again in a week or so.

Meanwhile, like I said this morning, I'll dive into my work. It'll take my mind off my disastrous personal life."

"I hope he leaves you alone, " Jack said. "He strikes me as a rather persistent sort."

"I know what you mean, " Laurie said. "Which brings me to the matter of asking you for a favor."

"Sure, what do you need? "

"I don't want to be sitting by the phone tonight, or tomorrow night for that matter.

I'd like to be with friends. Do you think there's any chance you and I could go with Chet and Colleen to that Monet show Chet mentioned yesterday? "

"I'd have to check with Chet, " Jack said. "But I'd be happy to go."

"Wonderful, " Laurie said. "And as for tonight, what do you think about going out for a bite with me and Lou. I think I owe you guys something for my behavior last night, so it will be my treat."

"You don't owe anybody anything, " Jack said. "I can't speak for Lou, but as for me, I'd be delighted to eat with you tonight. It will give me a chance to fill you in on what brought me here to your office a few minutes ago."

"And what was that? "

"Your suggestion about Connie Davydov was right on the money, " Jack said. "She died of botulinum toxin."

"No kidding! " Laurie said. Her flushed face lit up with a smile.

"Scout's honor, " Jack said. "Peter confirmed it this morning."

"Good grief! " Laurie exclaimed. "So what happened? Did you call Randolph Sanders? " Jack pushed off from the desk. "I'll tell you all about it tonight.

When and where shall it be for dinner? "

"Would eight be a good time?"

"Sounds fine, " Jack said. "Where? "

"How about Lou's favorite restaurant in Little Italy? " Laurie said. "I haven't been there in ages."

"What's the name? "

"It doesn't have a name, " Laurie explained.

"Okay, what's the address? "

"I can't remember."

"Wonderful! " Jack commented sarcastically.

"Pick me up on your way downtown, " Laurie said. "I'll be able to find it. It's on a little street off Mulberry. But come in a cab, not on your bike." After a halfhearted promise not to bicycle to her apartment that -evening, Jack went back to his office. As he walked in, Chet looked up from his microscope.

"So, " Chet said. "What was that all about? "

"It's all very complicated, " Jack replied plopping himself down in his chair.

Between the excitement with Paul and the long bike ride, he was suddenly feeling tired. "But one result is that Laurie has changed her mind about tomorrow night. So if you and Colleen still want some company, we're available."

"Great! " Chet said. He reached for his phone. "I'll give Colleen a call to see if she can get any more tickets."

"Wait a second, " Jack said. "What about the veterinarian epidemiologists? Were you able to get ahold of any of them? "

"I did, " Chet said. "I talked with a Dr. Clark Simsarian who chaired the seminar. I asked him if they'd come up with a diagnosis for the rats, but they haven't. They've also not come across any more anthrax ulcers."

"I've got a suggestion for them, " Jack said. "Call Dr. Simsarian back and suggest they check for botulinum toxin."

"Botulinum toxin! " Chet said. "Is that what Connie Davydov died of?"

"Apparently, " Jack said. "At least according to Peter Letterman."

"And you still think the rats and Connie might be related? " Chet questioned.

"It's a long shot, " Jack agreed. "But since the vets haven't come up with anything else, they might as well give it a try. I stopped by a veterinarian's office out in Brighton Beach today. He said that even some local cats have been dying mysteriously."

"I'll pass the tip along, " Chet said. "What about Randolph Sanders?"

Have you let him know about the botulinum toxin? "

"I did, " Jack said. "And I'm embarrassed to say I enjoyed making him writhe."

"I'll be curious to hear the fallout, " Chet said, shaking his head.

"Deciding not to do an autopsy and then finding out the patient died of botulism is a medical examiner's worst nightmare."

"I'm curious too, " Jack said. "In fact, while you make your calls, I think I'll see what I can find out." Jack phoned the Brooklyn office and asked for Dr. Sanders. Since the ME wasn't in his office, Jack had him paged. While he waited, Chet got through to Colleen and got a positive reaction. Chet gave Jack a thumbsup sign just as Randolph Sanders came on the line.

"Sorry to bother you, " Jack said into the phone with the same breezy style he'd used earlier when he'd spoken with the man. "Chet and I have been talking about the Davydov case. We're curious as to what's going on."

"It's a nightmare, " Randolph said.

"That's just how Chet characterized it a moment ago, " Jack said. He winked at Chet, who was waiting for Dr. Simsarian to pick up.

"I can't believe the luck, " Randolph said. "Right after I spoke with you this morning, I called the Strickland funeral home, and they gave me a bit of bad news."

"I'm sorry to hear that, " Jack said.

"The body has been cremated."

"Oh! " Jack moaned with feigned sympathy.

"There wasn't much I could do at that point other than turn the situation over to Jim Bennett."

"And what's he done? "

"Nothing yet, " Randolph said. "But I know he has a call in to Bingham.

This whole mess is going to have to be handled by top brass, specifically Harold Bingham."

"I guess you must feel pretty bad, " Jack said. In spite of his dislike for the man, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of true sympathy.

"Nothing like this has ever happened to me before, " Randolph said.

"You'll get through this, " Jack said. "In jobs like ours, it's impossible to catch everything. And you're doing the best you can at this point." Jack and Chet hung up from their respective calls almost simultaneously. They turned and faced each other.

"You first, " Chet said. "What did you learn? "

"There's no fallout, " Jack said. "At least not yet. Bingham's in the loop but hasn't been, told yet. The real problem is that the body's gone.

It was cremated." Jack shook his head. "It's a mess. The only thing I know is that it's out of my hands."

"I couldn't agree more, " Chet said. "And let it stay out of your hands!

As far as Dr. Simsarian is concerned, he wasn't excited about your suggestion, but he said that he'd give it a try." Jack threw up his hands. "Well, that's all we can do."

"Absolutely, " Chet said.

Jack turned to his desk. In the center of his blotter was a slide tray with a Post-it attached. On it was a note from Maureen. The slides were the skin samples from Connie Davydov.

After getting his microscope out, Jack slipped one of the slides under the objective and took a look. Now that he had the diagnosis of botulism, the slides were superfluous. He'd taken the slice of skin to make sure the woman's swollen eye was from trauma and not infection, and that was what he saw.

Putting Connie's slides aside, he reached for David Jefferson's folder.

He thought he'd polish off the case a day early and surprise Calvin.

While he worked, he happily anticipated the thought of spending an evening with Laurie and Lou after an invigorating pre-dinner run on the B-ball court.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 20

5:05 P.M.

"See you tomorrow! " Bob King called out as Curt emerged from the front of the firehouse.

Curt responded to the rookie with a wave that was more a wave of dismissal than acknowledgment. They were going in opposite directions on Duane Street after the shift change. "Come mid-morning tomorrow, I'll never have to see you again, " Curt mumbled under his breath.

As the afternoon progressed, Curt had grown increasingly excited about Operation Wolverine. At last, all the planning and all the effort was about to pay off, the operation was now on the launch pad in the final countdown for a blastoff in less than twenty-four hours! The only remaining skirmish involved Jack Stapleton, and that snag was to be dealt with in the next hour or so.

Curt glanced at his watch. Since it was after five, he fully expected the mission operatives would all be at the rendezvous in Pete's bar.

Steve had not called during the afternoon, a sure indication that everything had to have gone as planned.

As Curt rounded the corner he saw a plain, dark blue van parked in a loading zone close to the bar. On the driver's side door panel was stenciled the name of a Brooklyn plumber. Curt smiled. Undoubtedly it was the requisitioned vehicle.

The bar was practically empty. The whining country music that had provided the background earlier had been replaced with the harsh sounds of a group called Armageddon. Curt smiled again. It seemed so fitting The music was emanating from a boom box perched on a table in front of Carl Ryerson. In the smoky half-light of the bar, Carl's crooked grin and the swastika on his forehead gave him a particularly satanic aura.

"You like the sounds, Captain? " Carl asked. He'd caught Curt's smile.

Curt liked the troops to call him "captain", it was appropriately respectful, and it promoted discipline. He squeezed into the booth and eyed his squadron. Carl was sitting directly opposite. Next to him was the redhead, Kevin Smith. Then there was the diminutive Clark Ebersol, followed by Mike Compisano. Steve was to Curt's immediate right.

Every one was in T-shirts with their tattoos visible, except for Curt who was still in his class B fireman's uniform. The table was littered with a forest of beer bottles.

"Let's slow up on the drinking, " Curt said.

"Hey, what else is there to do in a bar? " Kevin said. "We've been here for a good half hour."

"I didn't want to be late, " Steve explained.

"Is that the van out front? " Curt asked.

"Yup, " Steve said. "Thanks to Clark."

"What about the ordnance? " Curt questioned.

Steve leaned forward and lowered his voice. "There's three Kalashnikovs and two Glocks in the truck. I figured that would be more than enough.