It was pretty clear what this meeting was about, even before I saw detectives Terri Hernandez from the Bronx and Javier Tunez from Brooklyn already at the table.
Hernandez smiled and said, “This must be important if they’re bringing in big guns like you.”
“Nah, can’t be that important. The FBI is here.”
That comment made Tunez bark out a laugh. Ever since an overzealous FBI agent had tried to charge him with workers’ compensation fraud, accusing him of overstating his injury claims from a car accident, Tunez had no use for the federal agency. He’d won his case easily, but he still suffered from the stress, as well as speculation in the press—the media never seemed to believe the FBI could be fallible and screw things up more often than local police.
NYPD inspector Lisa Udell was running the meeting. With her professional demeanor and terrifying reputation, I knew she’d make sure things didn’t get out of hand. She was known for chopping your nuts off if you did something stupid. I could get behind that kind of administrator. If you act stupid, you should face the consequences. The flip side of the equation was that if you were in the right, Udell always backed you up. Every time.
Inspector Udell said, “We all know why we’re here. We have three murder cases in Manhattan, the Bronx, and Brooklyn. The FBI has graciously offered their help to investigate the similarities in the crime scenes. I thought it would be best if we all sat down and talked about where we are in our investigations.”
The door to the conference room opened and two more FBI agents rushed in. One of them looked at me and smiled. I couldn’t help but smile back. Emily Parker had helped me out a dozen times over my career. And we’d once come within a moment of having a romantic relationship. That was before Mary Catherine and I had gotten serious. Now I just counted Emily as a good friend who happened to be a damn good cop. No matter who she worked for.
The other FBI agent who’d entered along with Emily was a sharply dressed, forty-something black man. He cleared his throat and said, “My name is Robert Lincoln. I’m the assistant special agent in charge of our New York office. The FBI is prepared to bring in resources and personnel to move this case along.”
Every veteran detective in every big city in the US has heard this song and dance before. And in my experience, the assistance flowed only one way: away from us. The FBI seemed to count the NYPD as a resource only to inflate their numbers. They rarely added to a case.
ASAC Lincoln said, “Let’s not waste any more time. If you tell us what you’ve got, maybe we can help.”
Harry Grissom said, “We’ve got three murders and a ton of work to do. What we don’t have is time to waste on pointless meetings. I’m sure you’ve seen our reports. All three known victims were young, white females. They all died from wounds from a sharp implement. But not the same one. Additionally, they each sustained a wound to the left eye. Assuming we’re dealing with the same killer in all three circumstances, I think we can safely note that as his signature. Also, each of the crime scenes was excessively, intentionally bloody. The killer’s clearly doing that on purpose. And his mutilation of their left eyes is a detail so distinctive that it must be kept from the media. You got some magical database that can point us in the right direction, that’s great. But if you’re just looking to make sure you’re at the podium during a press conference, we need to get back to work.”
I couldn’t keep my eyes from shifting over to Inspector Udell. I respected an administrator who would remain silent while someone expressed themselves so clearly and disrespectfully to the FBI.
Lincoln didn’t seem flustered by the pushback. He calmly straightened his tie and looked directly at Harry Grissom. “Look, Lieutenant, we know you’re overworked and understaffed. We think we can help. All we need to do is set up what we’re calling Task Force Halo. My people can report to me, and your people can report to you. It’s as simple as that.”
It hadn’t gone unobserved that the sharp ASAC had somehow used Lieutenant as if it was some kind of insult.
Grissom took a moment to gather his thoughts, then said, “I appreciate your interest in assisting the NYPD to be more efficient. But in my long experience, task forces tend to slow things down. We’re still running and gunning on this case. None of us has time for the extra administration and politics a task force would create. That doesn’t mean we can’t work together. But it does mean that this will be the last official meeting that takes time away from our actual investigations.” Harry stroked his mustache once, then looked at everyone around the table. “Am I clearly understood?”
Sometimes I just wanted to kiss my boss.
Chapter 10
Like any meeting attended by too many law-enforcement officials, this one didn’t end as quickly as I would’ve liked. I still didn’t mind taking a moment to chat with Emily.
“Are you in New York permanently?”
She nodded and said, “As permanently as any assignment with the federal government. I like working here and in Virginia. I don’t mind if they ship me between the two.”
“Tough on the social life.”
“It can be a challenge, sure. But we can’t all fall in love with someone we pay to watch our kids.” Before I could rise to my own defense, Emily said, “That came out a lot cattier than I meant. I’m probably just a little jealous of a beautiful girl with an Irish accent.”
“Well, to show you it wasn’t a fluke, Mary Catherine and I are getting married in a few weeks.”
“The kids must be over the moon.” She cut her eyes to the ASAC, who was now talking animatedly with Grissom. “Mike, don’t be too tough on Lincoln. In a way, he’s a throwback FBI agent. It’s not that he believes we’re smarter than everyone else. He just doesn’t like to be left out of the mix.” She looked at me and her face softened. “He’s a political animal. You and Harry wouldn’t last ten minutes with him.”
“I try not to get involved in anyone’s politics. But I appreciate the warning.” I made my good-byes and grabbed Hollis to head out the door. We had to wait another few minutes for Harry to break free.
I took one look at Hollis’s face and said, “Pop into the bathroom, take a look at your bandage.”
“Is it leaking?”
“Like the Titanic.” In just the couple of seconds we’d been talking, a red stain had spread across the entire front of the white gauze and tape covering his nose.
Hollis hurried off. A few minutes later, Harry Grissom stepped out of the meeting. The way the FBI agents turned sharply away from him and left as a unit told me the most recent discussions had not gone any better than the one during the meeting.
I didn’t even ask Harry about it. He’d tell me any information I needed to know.
He said, “Get together with Hernandez and Tunez and figure out if you have any common leads. I’ll get you any help you need. How’s Hollis handling himself?”
“He’s smart and not lazy. That usually works out.”
“Most guys would milk an injury like his and sit at home for a few weeks. I appreciate that he’s not whining about it. I’ll put him on background for now and then managing the crazy leads that’ll come in as we get more media coverage. We’ll have a couple of plainclothes help out as well.”