: Chapter 3
IN HIS KEEPING: CLAIMED
Morretti was pale and shaken when he walked out of the office. He looked at Costano and shook his head. It wasnât good. He didnât know which to check first: his head, because it had just been bitten off by his Captain; or his ass, because his Lieutenant had both kicked and chewed it. Shit rolls downhill. 1PP, 1 Police Plaza, was on the warpath. Pressure was coming from everywhere: the Mayor, the Governor, the New York State and U.S. Attorney Generalsâ offices, members of the U.S. Congress and Senate, as well as State Senators and Legislators. Supposedly, even aides to the President and Vice President had made calls. It wasnât just the New York City cops that were catching hell for their handling of the case, but the New York State Police Bureau of Criminal Investigation and the Rockland County Sheriffâs office as well. Anyone involved in the investigation was now tarnished. Higher-ups called the investigation bungled, inept, mishandled, a fiasco. He knew who was behind it. It was that prick Connor Hudson! Heâd funded a lot of political campaigns over the years. It didnât matter whether the candidates were Republican and Democrat; heâd hedged his bets and gave them all money. The millions heâd poured into state and national elections had bought him influence. There were a lot of elected officials beholden to him and he was calling in his IOUs. It seemed like every politician in the country was pummeling the cops on his behalf. Morretti would be lucky if he didnât find himself back walking a beat after this.
Strangely enough, there hadnât been a peep out of any of Hudsonâs politician cronies the last three months. He hadnât pulled any strings to get the investigation slowed or stopped. Heâd let them do their jobs. Hudson had hired his own people to âhelpâ them: an army of bloodhounds: international criminologists, forensic experts, psychiatrists, psychologists, and some of the most world-renowned private investigators and detectives in the world. He hadnât tried to impede the investigation. In fact, heâd cooperated! But everything had changed. A reset button had been hit when that damn girl disappeared. All hell had broken loose. He was demanding action and anybody who stood in his way was going to get steamrolled. Instead of the cops running the show, the rich prick was giving the orders. Earlier this morning, at Hudsonâs behest, he and Costano had strong-armed the owner of Bookworm Press, the publishing company where the girl was now employed. Hudson hadnât been able to get any information out of the guy yesterday; even though they almost came to blows. The man refused to tell Hudson where she was. But with them he was more cooperative. Jameson Bryant didnât know her new address, but said Sylvie had told him she was living somewhere in Ulster County in the southern Catskills. Heâd demanded to know what was going on and vented about Hudson acting like a âcomplete assholeâ and being furious that Bookworm had stolen one of his best editors right out from under his nose. He was making threats to destroy both Bryant and his company. He told them Hudson was a control freak and that he was sure Miss Jenkins wanted nothing more to do with him. He said he was sure Sylvieâs ex-employer was stalking her and was worried for her safety. He kept calling his rival âpathological.â Why else would Hudson have tried to intimidate him into divulging where she was? He and Costano didnât tell him why everyone was so worried about the Jenkins woman or why it was so important that they locate her. You could see he was pissed that they werenât more forthcoming, but that was too bad. They werenât at liberty to say anything about the case. Before they left, they instructed him that if she contacted him again, he should try to get her address or location. And that under no circumstances should he tell her about their visit. They didnât want her taking off again and going deeper into hiding.
Hudson wasnât pleased with any of the investigators on the case right now. He thought they were all blithering idiots and was making noises like he wanted them replacedâ¦ASAP! He blamed them for the girl taking off. Heâd followed their advice and moved her to the city where the investigators felt sheâd be safer. First, because the building was an almost impenetrable fortress and second because it would keep her away from Hudson, the man they suspected of murder. Theyâd told him to stay away from her and to keep her in the dark about why. In light of what happened, it had been a bad move and now they all owned it and their careers would probably suffer for it. But Jesus Christ, who knew the Jenkins girl would take off like she did? Sheâd have to be either a wacko or have taken a vow of poverty to want to escape living in the lap of luxury in a Park Ave. penthouse. What sane woman does that?
âGrab your coat. Weâre going for a ride. Weâre heading north. Thereâs a chopper waiting for us.â
âA chopper?â Costano looked at him like heâd grown a second head. âAre you frigging serious? Where the hell are we going?â
âWeâre gonna talk to a two-bit lawyer who lives in the boonies upstate. It seems he came to visit our runaway a couple of weeks ago. When Hudson tried to call him several times yesterday to get him to tell him where she was, he hung up on him.â
âWhat the hell are we supposed to do about it? Hudson has security people up the ass. Let them talk to the lawyer. Weâve got no jurisdiction. Theyâre going to let us take a police helicopter upstate for this?â
âItâs not a police helicopter. Hudson is providing the chopper. Weâre accompanying him.â
âWho the fuck authorized that?â
âThe word came down from the top, and I mean the top: the Commissioner and the Mayor; that we are to assist Hudson in whatever way we can and to convey to said lawyer the seriousness of the situation and the need for his complete and total cooperation! Unlike you and I, the brass donât give a flying crap about jurisdiction. Technically, weâre just there as observers.â
âObservers to what?â
âWeâre there to make sure Hudson and his goons donât do anything theyâre not supposed to do. Hudson is irate that the man wonât speak to him. Heâs sure the lawyer knows where she is.â
âSo now were working for Connor Hudson?â Costano asked angrily.
âDo you like your job Bernie? More to the point, do you want to keep it? I sure as hell want to keep mine. I want to hang around long enough to put in my papers and retire on a nice pension. I canât retire anytime soon. So I need the damn job! Weâre supposed to play nice with the prick; so that is exactly what I intend to do. I advise you to do the same. Hudson wasnât too thrilled with us to begin with; and now, well now heâs trying to cut us off at the knees.â
âHow come weâre the ones getting stuck babysitting this dickwad? What about the deputies from Rockland County and McCoy from BCI? Why canât they do it? Why does it have to be us?â
âBecause we have the higher body count. There were three murders in Manhattanâ¦remember? And besides, they didnât get out of anything. Theyâre meeting us at some airfield upstate so we can present a united front and convince this jerk lawyer to tell us what he knows about the girlâs whereabouts. Come on. Grab you coat. Get a move on, â he directed, annoyed that Costano wasnât on board with the program. âHudson is waiting at the chopper. Iâm sure that cocksucker will blow a gasket if he has to cool his heels for the likes of us. I swear to Christ the manâs going to bust a blood vessel the way heâs going. Heâs acting like a lunatic.â
âYou do know this sucks, right? This is a police investigation. The manâs a civilian. Heâs got no business being involved. Heâs rich. So what! May I remind you he was the prime suspect in a series of murders? Hell, Iâm still not sure he didnât have something to do with them. And now weâre kissing his ass? Gimme a break! Heâs telling us where to go and what to do? I donât believe it!â
âBelieve it. Itâs happening. Now get your damn coat and letâs go.â
They were heading toward the door when someone yelled, âHey Morretti, pick up the phone. You got a call from a Sheriff Warburton. Heâs calling from Kingston and wants to talk to you. He says itâs important.â
Morretti didnât even look back. He waved his hand dismissively and told the officer to let it go to voicemail. A second later the door banged closed and they were gone.