Call Of The Witch (31 page)

“
I’m just telling you what
she told me,” I said.

He kept his eyes on the road. Lionel’s
Mercedes was three cars ahead of us. “I don’t care what she said,
Tony. The woman’s delusional.”

“
I don’t know about
delusional, Carlos. Maybe––”

“
Maybe nothing! She’s a
crack head. She hangs around with crack heads. If you ask me,
that’s her motive for kidnapping her own daughter. $300,000 can buy
a lot of crack you know.”

“
First of all, it’s not
crack. It’s coke.”

“
Oh, so now you’re
defending her?”

“
I’m not defending her,
and I’m not saying I disagree with you. She certainly isn’t the
most trustworthy witness.”

“
That’s right, she’s not.
But you know who is?”

“
Lionel
Brewbaker?”

“
Damn straight. I know
Lionel. I’m telling you, I know people. I know when they’re lying
and when they’re hiding something.”

“
Oh, like Lauri Shullit,”
I said, and immediately I wished I could take it back. I looked
over at Carlos. His jaw hung slack. Hell, my jaw hung slack.
“Carlos…I’m sorry. I didn’t––”

“
Screw you,
Tony.”

“
What?”

“
I said, screw you. You
call yourself a friend.”

“
Carlos. I am your friend.
That was wrong. I know it. It just came out. I’m sorry.”

“
You think sorry fixes
everything?”

“
No, but you know I
am.”

My phone rang, preventing me from further
groveling. I answered, “Yes.”

“
Tony.
Dominic.”

“
Yes, Dominic.”

“
I just got back-to-back
calls from the Essex and Danvers PDs.”

“
And?”

“
Russell Haywood wasn’t
home.”

“
What about Dmitry
Kovalchuk?”

“
Danvers checked on him
ten minutes ago. He’s also a no-show. Wasn’t at his
studio.”

“
Great. I don’t suppose
anyone’s seen Martinez then, have they?”

“
Raul?”

“
No Karina! Geezus,
Spinelli! Are you paying fuckin` attention? Was Karina Martinez at
the studio or wasn’t she?”

The phone went silent. I glanced over at
Carlos. His brows were hooked in perpetual surprise. I noticed then
my hands were shaking. My stomach was queasy and my head felt
light. Carlos reached over the consol and touched my arm.

“
Tony,” he shook his head
lightly. “Dominic doesn’t know about Karina and Dmitry. We didn’t
tell him.”

“
Shit.” I put the phone to
my ear and let out a pathetic sigh. “Dominic. Listen I’m…I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. Listen, thanks for the
update.”

“
Sure, Tony. No problem.
And uh…to answer your question. Nobody was at the
studio.”

“
All right. Are you in
position now?”

“
Yes. I got six guys out
here with me.”

“
Okay, Lionel is just
pulling up to the bank now. Our ETA is three minutes.”

“
Got it. We’ll be on the
radio.”

“
`Kay.”

I hung up and tucked the phone in my pocket.
Carlos pulled the car into a space along the curb a half block from
the bank. We watched Lionel Brewbaker hop out and go inside.

“
Tony.” I thought Carlos
was going to give me shit about the way I snapped at Dominic. I
guess that just goes to show how even after thirty years, you never
know a man. “I want to––”

“
Carlos, I told him I was
sorry.”

“
No. That’s not it. I was
going to say I was sorry.”

“
You? What do you have to
be sorry for?”

“
Well, for one, I know
you’ve been under a lot of stress lately, what with Lilith wanting
to have a baby and you not wanting a baby. Then you have Dominic,
who’s been a mini-basket case himself. He’s living this case
vicariously through the Brewbakers. Every time he thinks of Kelly
he imagines it’s his and Ursula’s kid.”

“
Aw, he’s not been so
bad.”

“
And then you have me. Ha,
what a chump I am, huh? If I introduced you to Lauri when I first
met her, maybe you’d have helped me see her for what she
was.”

“
Carlos, I never should
have said anything about her to you. You’re a grown man. You don’t
need babysitting. And hey, I really am sorry for that comment I
said a minute ago. I didn’t mean––”

“
Tony. It’s okay. You and
me. We go back a long way. We can say things to one another. It
doesn’t mean the end of the world.”

“
You know, you’re right.
Yesterday I––”

“
Whoa, whoa! Here he is.
Lionel’s got the money.”

We both straightened up in our seats. Carlos
started the car, dropped it into gear and pulled out into traffic
four cars behind Brewbaker. By the end of the three block tail we
were only two cars back. We slipped into a parking space in front
of a shoe store and shut off the engine. Brewbaker continued
another thirty yards, stopping just ten feet from the
yellow-striped barricades the DOT set up at the access road to the
bridge. We saw the white back-up lights blink as he ran the
gearshift up into park. His foot came off the brake. The door
opened. He stepped out. Carlos and I put in our earpieces and
turned on our radios.

“
This is TC Center One,” I
said. “Dominic, you got a visual?”

He came back, “Roger TC. I have visual.”

“
All units
reported?”

“
Yes, sir. All units
reported. All have visual.”

“
Roger that. Game’s on.
Wait for my word.”

“
Standing by.”

I turned to Carlos. He was looking at me,
smiling. I smiled back. “What?”

He gestured a nod at my hands. “You’re all
white knuckled, Tony. Relax.”

“
I’ll relax when we get
that kid back home safe where she belongs.”

He reached across my lap and popped open the
glove box. “There’s a pair of binoculars in there. Wanna
get`em?”

“
I don’t need
binoculars.”

“
Not for you. For
me!”

“
Oh.”

I handed him the binoculars and we both
watched as Lionel Brewbaker strolled up to the two-lane bridge
spanning Garfield Creek. He did just as instructed, walking
casually so as not to draw attention to himself, the flat leather
bag stuffed with money slung over his shoulder. He got on to the
bridge and crossed over to the south side. Then, with his elbows
perched on the top railing, he peered over the edge and spat into
the water.”

“
Why’d he do that?” Carlos
asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s probably what
I’d do. It looked natural.”

Dominic came over the radio. “TC Center One.
Does that mean anything?”

“
No,” I said. “It’s just
spit.”

“
Oh, I thought you guys
came up with a signal.”

“
It’d have been a good
signal,” said Carlos. “We should have thought of it.”

“
It wasn’t a signal. Now
clear the channel.”

About then, Lionel Brewbaker glanced down at
his watch, stripped the leather strap off his shoulder and let the
bag drop into the water. He then turned around, casually slipped
his hands into his pockets and headed back to his car.

“
That’s the drop. Stay on
your toes everyone.”

Carlos readjusted his rearview mirror to gain
sight of the delicatessen behind us where several high school kids
were hanging around out front.

“
I don’t see a
motorcycle,” he said.

I leaned to my right and stole a glimpse into
the side door mirror. “Maybe there is no motorcycle.”

“
Huh. Would-a-sworn
there’d be a motorcycle.”

I said over the radio. “Anyone got
anything?”

Seven replies came back negative.

“
All right. Hang
tight.”

We waited another three minutes, which seemed
like thirty. Neither Carlos nor I said a word. I kept hoping one of
our spotters would come over the radio and tell us he saw
something. Anything.

After five minutes, Carlos said, “They must
have spotted us.”

“
I don’t think so,” I
answered. “We’re pretty far back. Plus we got the sun behind
us.”

“
No.” He shook his head.
“I don’t mean us. I mean one of us.” He pointed to the theater
building south of the bridge. “I’ve been watching over there, up on
the rooftop. Whoever that is, he keeps poking his head up above the
marquee.”

“
You sure he’s one of
ours?”

“
He better be. He’s got a
sniper’s rifle.”

I keyed in the mic. “Dominic, who do we have
up on the roof of the theater?”

The radio clicked on, “That’s Nicholson, Sir.
Zone four.”

“
You want to tell him to
keep his head down?”

“
Uh, I think you just
did.”

We gave it another few minutes. When nothing
happened after that, I convinced myself something was definitely
wrong. I said to Carlos, “We blew it. They’re not coming for the
money. They must have seen us.”

“
Maybe they’re going to
wait until nightfall.”

“
No. If that were the
case, they would have had us make the drop at night. They wouldn’t
let the money sit here all day.”

Spinelli rang me on my phone then. “Tony, I
thought you’d like to know that Brittany just called. Lionel
Brewbaker’s home now. He wants to know if we have Kelly back. What
should I tell them?”

“
Tell them no. And then
tell them to stop calling. We’re in the middle of a fuckin` ransom
drop here.”

“
Tony,” said Carlos.
“Easy.”

I hung up on Dominic. “I’m sorry, Carlos, but
this damn thing is not going the way it’s supposed to. We should
have called in the FBI. I swear, if––”

“
Blame me!”

“
What?”

“
I said blame me. If
something happens to Kelly then you can pin it all on me. I’m the
one that talked you into shutting out the FBI. It’s what Lionel
wanted. I had to respect that. He’s my friend. It’s what you do
sometimes for friends.”

“
Yes, and sometimes you
don’t do what your friends want you to do; instead you do what’s
right.”

“
Still….” He put his hands
on the steering wheel and gripped it until his knuckles were white.
“If anything happens, I’ll accept full responsibility and resign
from the force.”

“
No, Carlos. You can’t do
that. If you resign. I’ll resign. And you know what that’ll
mean.”

“
What?”

“
It’ll mean Dominic will
become lead detective on the force. Do you think New Castle is
ready for that?”

He cracked a thin smile, one he tried to
disguise as a grimace, but I knew better. I keyed up my mic. “TC
Center One, Dominic?”

“
Dominic here.
Go.”

“
You got
anything?”

“
Negative, TC. All units
report.”

Six units keyed in negative. “All right then,
give it another minute, and then meet us on the bridge.”

“
Roger that.”

“
Giving up?” said
Carlos.

“
Yes. I think we have to
concede. I mean we blew it. They’re not coming.”

“
So what do we do
now?”

“
I guess we pick up the
money, wait for the next call and hope the kidnappers aren’t too
pissed.”

“
Maybe they weren’t able
to get here on time.”

“
You think we disrupted
their plans?”

“
If Santana and Martinez
are involved, we might have.”

“
What if it’s
Haywood?”

“
What if?”

“
He doesn’t strike me as a
person who makes too many mistakes. If he spotted us, I don’t think
he’d give us another chance.”

“
Let’s hope it ain’t him
then.” He checked his watch. “It’s been a minute. You
ready?”

I pointed out the windshield towards the
bridge. “Yeah, let’s roll.”

He started the car. “Hey by the way. What’s
the TC stand for, Tactical Command?”

“
No,” I said, but really,
it did. “It stands for Tony and Carlos.”

He gave me an approving nod. “Yeah, I like
it.”

A few minutes later, Carlos, Spinelli and I
were standing on the bridge, looking over the railing. The water
was only a foot and a half deep there and clear enough to see the
bottom. A gentle flow swept the occasional leaf and water bug
downstream at something less than walking speed.

“
It’s not there,” said
Dominic. “The bag’s not there. Where’d it go?”

I had made the same observation, but held my
tongue, anticipating a perfectly logical explanation. “I see that,”
I said, after realizing there wasn’t one.

“
But it couldn’t have been
swept downstream.”

“
No. The current’s to slow
for that.”

Carlos said, “Maybe Lionel didn’t drop
it.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s not that, either.
I saw him make the drop. We saw him make the drop.”