Wake the Devil (26 page)

O
n the way back from the morgue, Beth called Jack and told him they had picked up Leonard Walpole. She gave him a rundown of what he told them about Rick and the movie. He said he would meet them in the conference room of the Atlanta PD.

“Mr. Walpole, I’m Jack Kale with the FBI. I appreciate you coming here. Can you describe your friend Rick to me?”

“He’s a little shorter than you and in his early thirties, I guess, with light brown hair.”

“Any scars or tattoos?”

“I don’t think so, but I really wasn’t looking.”

“Detective Sturgis tells me you and Rick had dinner on Roswell Road last night. Is that the last time you saw him?”

“No, it was at the hotel.”

“Really? Is Rick staying there, too?” Jack asked.

“I’m not sure where he and the crew are staying. Probably at one of those big hotels downtown. I don’t understand all this about Rick. He’s a totally decent guy.”

Jack was continually astounded at the ability of some people to deny reality. Lenny had just been to the morgue and had seen the man who was flying models with him with a cut throat, and here he was defending the probable murderer.

“I’m sure he is,” Jack said. “I’m just a little confused. You say you didn’t get the drone at the restaurant.”

“Right.”

“And you were with Rick the entire time.”

“Until he dropped me off at the Clairmont with his car,” Lenny explained.

“So where did he get a new drone? The police still have the other two, and they’re not something you can buy in a store.”

A line of sweat had broken out on Lenny’s forehead and he had begun to rock back and forth in his seat.

“You’re trying to confuse me.”

“I’m really not,” Jack said. “Actually, I’m trying to help you. The last thing you want to do is lie right now. Concentrate a little harder.”

Several seconds passed. The only sound in the room came from air passing through the vents high up on the walls.

“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble,” Lenny said.

“And you won’t,” Beth told him. “We’re trying to save lives here. Yours as well. Just go slow and tell us what happened. I promise everything will be all right.”

Lenny looked from one to the other. They waited.

“After Rick dropped me off, Brooks came by and brought me the drone.”

“Brooks?” Jack said.

“He’s our director.”

“I see. Was this the first time you met him?”

“Uh-huh.”

A little tick of excitement started in the pit of Jack’s stomach. He was talking about the partner.

Jack, Beth, and Todd all exchanged glances.

“Okay, so Brooks came to your room. Is that correct?”

“Well, he met me in the staircase. It’s right next to my room.”

“I understand,” Jack said. “You’re doing great. Tell me what he looked like.”

“I’m not sure. He was wearing a hat and dark glasses and only stayed a few seconds.”

“Was he the same height as Rick?” Todd asked.

“Maybe a little taller.”

Todd turned to Jack and asked if he wanted a computer sketch artist. Jack nodded. The agent stepped out of the room to make the call. While they were waiting, Jack asked Beth to get her evidence
kit and go over Lenny’s clothes with the sticky roller. It took a few minutes to complete the task.

“Did Brooks say anything or touch you?” Jack asked.

“Touch me?”

“Like to shake your hand.”

“No, he just gave me the drone and said, ‘Here you go, man. I gotta run. Do a good job for us.’”

“Was there anything distinctive about his speech, like an accent or something like that?”

“Uh uh.”

They spoke for a while longer, but there wasn’t much more to be gained.

“Mr. Walpole, I’d like to thank you for your help and ask if you can stay with us for another hour or so. We’ll make you as comfortable as possible and get you something to eat if you like.”

“I don’t have much of an appetite right now,” Lenny said.

“Understandable. One last thing. May I borrow your shoes for a few minutes?”

*

Todd Milner met them outside and told them the bureau sketch artist would be there within the next three hours. He had tried the APD artist but learned she was out on a call. That was fine. Jack explained they were taking the samples Beth had collected to the lab for analysis.

“You worried he’ll run away?” Todd asked, pointing at the shoes Jack was holding.

Jack smiled. “Not really. When he and Shackleford were picked up the first time, the report mentioned Lenny was wearing running shoes. These are leather and look new. I’d like our techs to give them the once-over.”

“Sounds good. See you in a bit.”

*

At the lab, they found Dan Pappas waiting to pick up a report Ben Furman was working on. Jack handed Nelda the shoes and asked her to examine them while Beth brought Pappas up to speed on Lenny Walpole’s revelations.

Nelda put on a pair of magnifying glasses and went to work.

“We have one or two of the terra-cotta grains and a couple of new ones I haven’t seen before. They’re white.”

Ben Furman stopped what he was doing and went over to join her. After several seconds, he whispered something in her ear. She responded by whispering back in his, then announced the white grains were coral stone commonly found along the coast of Florida.

“Maybe he’s been to the beach,” Pappas said.

“The man’s a junkie who, until recently, was living under a bridge. What are the odds on that?” Jack said.

Nelda informed them, “These are Trek Striders. The company uses a proprietary rubber compound on a one piece heel and sole design. The rubber acts like a magnet.”

“Any chance of a mistake?” Jack asked.

Nelda stared at him as if he had lost his mind.

“Forgive me,” Jack said contritely.

She sniffed and tucked a strand of brown hair behind one ear and smoothed her skirt.

“Either he picked up the grains by being in direct contact with coral stone, or someone brought them up here and transferred them to him.”

After some speculation, they concluded that Lenny probably lacked the means to travel. According to his sheet, he had a spotty employment history and a vagrancy charge pending for the last three months.

“Okay,” Pappas said. “I’m officially fascinated. What good does knowing this do us?”

“Gabe Alonso,” Jack said.

“The murdered FBI agent?”

“Correct. Ben, do you have the forensic report from Alonso’s car here?”

Furman went to his computer and punched a few keys. A moment later, the FBI’s analysis appeared on the screen. Jack, Beth, and Pappas read it over his shoulder.

“There,” Jack said, pointing. Gabe Alonso had been staking out Borov’s factory in Duluth, an Atlanta suburb.

“It says the vehicle was thoroughly examined for any sign of foul play and nothing was found,” Pappas said.

“At the bottom, under ‘Trace Items,’” Jack said.

Pappas looked and pulled his head back in surprise, “Sonofabitch. ‘Several white grains of what appears to be coral stone residue were noted.’ Was Alonso in Florida?”

“I don’t know,” Jack said. “My focus hasn’t been on him at all. I remember reading that Borov has a warehouse there. Whatever he produces here travels by rail or truck and is eventually off-loaded for shipping overseas through Port Everglades in Fort Lauderdale.”

“I’ll ask Milner about Alonso’s travel record. Beth, would you check with Lenny and see if he’s been there recently? Maybe he couldn’t afford it, but someone else could have paid for him.”

“Like Rick or his friend, Brooks,” Beth said. “I’ll ask him when we get back.”

“I’m not getting the whole coral stone thing,” Pappas said.

Jack informed him, “You see a lot of it around South Florida, particularly in the older homes in Miami and up into Palm Beach. Before it was banned, an architect named Addison Mizner used to incorporate it into his designs. It’s probably harder than cement and a lot more attractive.”

Incredulous, Pappas stared at Jack. “You just know this shit?”

“I read a lot. I also had a case down there ten years ago.”

“Ten years?”

“Might be eleven.”

“Jesus, Kale.”

Jack shrugged and then went quiet for a moment. Another piece of the puzzle had just dropped into place. An important one. It was entirely possible Walpole was an innocent dupe. The ATF agents were convinced of it and they were no amateurs. The glaring fact was those grains had come from south Florida, and if Courtney had been in Ireland at the time the senator’s aide had been murdered, that left the partner.

Jack left to speak with Milner while Beth agreed to call the FBI’s travel desk to see if Gabe Alonso had been to Florida shortly before his death.

O
n exiting the conference room, they found Carmine Donofrio in a heated discussion with Jack, or to be more accurate, Jack was listening while the U.S. Attorney talked. Donofrio’s assistant, another U.S. Attorney, was hovering close by, as were Todd Milner and Dan Pappas.

“Kale, the grand jury meets in less than thirty-four hours and you’re no closer to catching the Sandman than you were three days ago.”

Jack said nothing.

“You can see I was right for wanting to put her in federal custody. After that fiasco in New York, there’s no way I’m allowing her to attend a funeral.”

“Seriously? You’re not going to let a wife attend her husband’s funeral? I don’t think you can stop her, Donofrio.”

“I can ask the judge to modify his order.”

“Get real.”

“The marshals will back me on this.”

“And I’ll overrule them. We’re not having this discussion.”

“It’s irresponsible. You told me yourself security arrangements would be difficult.”

“I told you they’d be a nightmare and they will. This is a matter of basic human decency. I understand your case is important, but not at the expense of Rachel’s soul. We’ll make sure she’s safe.”

“You’ve lost your fucking mind.”

“Watch your language, there’s a woman in the room.”

Donofrio finally noticed Beth and Milner standing there. “I apologize. I’m telling all of you now, if we lose this witness, I’ll do everything in my power to prosecute each of you.”

Milner leaned closer and whispered in Beth’s ear. “I’m terrified. Hold me.”

Donofrio continued to rant. Jack continued to listen. Ultimately, the attorney turned to Beth and asked if she agreed with Jack’s decision.

“I do. Rachel’s being a witness doesn’t mean she has to put her life on hold.”

“That’s exactly what it means until I decide to release her. She’s an important link to Borov.”

“Todd Milner and I picked up one of the drone operators a little while ago,” Beth said. “Maybe you should hear what he has to say about a man named Rick, who’s making a movie here in Atlanta.”

“What are you talking about?”

She began a capsule summary of what Lenny had told her. The U.S. Attorney folded his arms and leaned back against the edge of a desk to listen.

Pappas said, “So he plans to make a run at the feds’ safehouse?”

“Looks that way,” Beth said. “He’ll use the park across from the reservoir.”

Jack inquired where the drone was.

“It was delivered to Stan Kaufman on the way in.”

He nodded his approval. Kaufman was the Atlanta bomb squad’s chief technician.

Donofrio said, “I want to interview this man. Where is he?”

“Conference room three. Down the hall on the right,” Beth said.

The two attorneys left.

“Fun and games, kids,” Milner said. “I’d love to stay and listen, but I have to get back on surveillance. Borov’s set to meet with a recruiter for ISIS.”

“Who is he?” Pappas asked.

“He is a woman.”

The detective shook his head. “There are times I feel like I’m working in a nut house.”

“Good work on finding Lenny, Todd,” Jack said.

“Actually, Ms. Sturgis and I finished in a dead heat at the witness’s door.” Milner flashed a smile at Beth and left the room.

“Congratulations to you too, Detective. Let’s join Mr. Donofrio.”

*

Beth didn’t think it was possible for anyone to look more beaten down than Leonard Walpole. He was leaning back in his seat trying to put some distance between himself and Donofrio. The attorney bore in, firing off question after question. Lenny remained adamant about never having met or even hearing Sergei Borov’s name. Either Donofrio didn’t believe him or he thought he could browbeat him into changing his story. It was plain the little man was terrified, not so much at what he’d gotten himself into, but because he’d come to realize he was now the target of someone who intended to kill him once he had no further use for him. When threats and cajoling didn’t work, Donofrio changed tactics.

“Mr. Walpole, we may be able to help each other. I understand your reluctance to testify. A minute ago, you admitted to accepting money from Thomas Courtney because you want to get into a methadone clinic. That’s an admirable goal. It’s also an expensive one, as I’m sure you know. What about if we were to help?”

“Who’s we?”

“Your government. My office has access to certain funds for people who cooperate with us.”

“What good will that do me if I’m dead?”

“Have you ever heard of witness protection?”

“Uh-huh.”

“We can set you up with a new identity and place to live, a nice place. We might even furnish enough for you to go into that rehab program you’re talking about.”

“How much?”

Donofrio shrugged. “I’d have to look into the costs, but—”

“It’s nine thousand dollars,” Lenny said.

Donofrio turned to Pappas and asked, “How much can your department kick in?”

“I don’t know. We have a budget, but the final decision’s up to the bosses.”

“Check on it, okay?”

“Sure.”

“Now this is what I want to do,” Donofrio said, returning to Lenny. “I want to call in a court reporter and have your statement taken down.”

“Can I speak to a lawyer first?” Lenny asked.

“What for? You told us you have nothing to hide.”

“I don’t. I just think it’s . . . it’s a . . . a good idea,” Lenny stammered.

Beth and Jack remained off to one side listening to the exchange. What little resistance Lenny had was crumbling quicker than the Iraqi army. The second attorney followed his boss’s lead and moved in close. Donofrio continued the press. They reminded Beth of two grade school bullies trying to steal someone’s lunch money.

“Mr. Walpole, maybe you don’t understand the situation you’re in. Regardless of what anyone has told you or promised you, I make the decision whether to prosecute. No one else. Right now, I could put you away for a very long time. You’ve already admitted to being an accessory to a felony. How long do you think someone like you will last in a maximum security prison? You’ll be locked down twenty-four hours a day in an underground facility. The only visits you’ll ever receive will be over a closed circuit television. They won’t even give you a book to read for the first year. As far as seeing the sun again, forget about it. Some people are strong enough to survive that experience. I’m told others go insane.”

Tears started to fill Lenny Walpole’s eyes. Beth was disgusted at what she was hearing. Donofrio leaned over him; his aide followed suit.

“Listen to me you little maggot, this is a one-time offer. Either you take it—”

“That’s enough,” Beth said.

“Stay out of this,” Donofrio snapped.

She responded by interposing herself between Lenny and the U.S. Attorney. “I said that’s enough. First of all, this man came here voluntarily. That means I’m responsible for him. If he says he wants to speak to a lawyer, he’s goddamn well going to get one. Both of you back away right now.”

The attorney opened his mouth to reply. Beth cut him off.

“I mean it, Donofrio. Back off.”

The second attorney reached for Beth’s shoulder, only to find his hand suddenly twisted back toward himself and turned outward by Jack.

“Hi there,” Jack said to him.

The man’s face went red as he tried to break free. Jack responded by increasing the pressure, which sent the aide down to one knee.

“Let him go this instant,” Donofrio said. “You’re assaulting an officer of the court.”

Jack shrugged and released his grip. The aide went over sideways.

“In the hall,” Donofrio said and left the room.

Jack and the others followed.

“What the hell’s the matter with you people? That man was about to cave.”

“That’s not the way to do it,” Beth said.

Donofrio took a breath and let it out as his assistant joined him, rubbing his wrist.

“All right, maybe I came on too strong, but we’re nearly out of time. So far, the best you’ve been able to manage is keeping half the witnesses you were assigned to protect alive. I don’t call that a raving success. We need to bring this to a head.”

“How?” Beth asked.

“I have an idea.”