Saboteur: A Novel (5 page)

Chapter 8

“Wait up, Detective!” the voice came from across the room.
Sullivan was headed for the door, manila folder under his arm. It was the
bulldog sergeant turned softy that had been railing at him earlier. “Let me give
you a lift over to impound. I can get Rita to knock half off the cost at least.
We dated in high school. Well, she let me play with her boobs once anyway.”
Tackett seemed an oversized teddy bear, but looked like a man who suffered from
permanent hypertension. A bit more than overweight and far too sweaty. “Lemme
get you a drink tonight and give you a real introduction to this city.”

“Uhh, that’s really tempting, but
you know I gotta get a place still, so I need to--”

“If you think you will find a place
to move into tonight or even in the next month sport, let me tell you ya’ got
another thing coming. This is Southern Cali, boss. Come on, I know a place you
can stay temporarily until good real estate becomes available.”

“Ok then, I’m with you I suppose,
sergeant.”

 
They jumped into Tackett’s black SUV.
They virtually filled the lot, seeming replicas lined up in perfect formation.

“You ever get in the wrong one by
mistake?” Sullivan mused.

“Nah, this one is always covered in
bird shit, because I’m too cheap to wash it.”

“Oh, ok.” He realized he might have
gotten Tackett all wrong. Perhaps they were kindred spirits after all. He also
realized they were leaving the lot.

“What about my car?” he said.

“Don’t worry about it we can get it
tomorrow; it couldn’t be in a safer place.”

He leaned back, accepting that
Tackett seemed to be in charge, and not just at the office.

“San Diego has a ton of really
classy bars, but that’s not where we’re headed.”

“Thank goodness,” he replied. “I’m
starting to get the feeling this is more of a planned date than a spontaneous
get together.”

Tackett drove in silence while
Sullivan surveyed the city-scape. He swerved the SUV suddenly onto a side
street, down a dark tree covered driveway.

“Or maybe a professional hit by the
looks of things,” he muttered nervously.

He peered squinting into the darkness before they finally
emerged onto a vast flat spot overlooking the ocean.

“Best view in town and not ten
people know about it,” Tackett said pointing out over the seemingly endless
ocean.

“Wow.”

“I pulled your file kid. It’s
impressive work you’ve done in Richmond. You know what though, Richmond is a
pretty small fishbowl. Out here you’re swimming in a whole ocean of it.”

The car finally pulled to a stop.
Tackett reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a flask.

“Open the glove box,” he said.
Sullivan complied and found a stack of paper cups and a small plastic bottle of
coca cola. “Jack and Coke ok with you?”

“Sure. You really know how to make
a gal feel special,” he said batting his eyelashes.

“What is it they call you, Ice
Cube?”

“No, actually Ice Man is the
correct pronunciation. After the actor, who is considered decadently handsome
by the way, or at least was.”

“Yeah, yeah I saw the fucking
movie,” Tackett said pouring. “Look Sullivan, if I might ask that our
conversation tonight stay just between the two of us. I know that’s asking a
lot since we just met, but I need to know that you and I are the only two
discussing this topic. If I find out you’ve told anyone I won’t be able to
offer my help again.”

“Please, sergeant, go on; this
sounds juicy.”

“That case you got from Tierney
today, case 1032, right?”

“Yeah?” he said looking down at the
folder in the floorboard.

“That’s an old case around here. You’re
not the first guy to be given a chance to crack that nut. How was your meeting
with Tierney by the way?”

“Fine, I guess.”

“Tell me what do you think of Bob
so far? Did he do that stupid routine where he asks you to analyze him?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, what
the hell was that? He does that to everybody?”

“Drink up.” Tackett said.

He slammed the jack and coke,
remembering its taste from the night at the lake with Caroline, the true
beginning of his trip in some ways.

“He seems like he does things by
the book. Maybe he tries a little too hard to seem human. I don’t know, I just
met him really.”

“I’ve known Bob since the academy.
We went through together. Everybody called him Robby then, believe it or not.
By the time he was thirty though it was definitely Robert. He made Chief at 37
and then he made everyone at the precinct call him chief, even me, which is
funny because the job was mine actually. For 48 hours anyway. Then Bob dialed
in one of his big favors from Sacramento. Bob has the soul of a politician,
Sullivan, and to him using political favors to get what he wants is as natural
as breathing for most of us. I even went home and told my wife when I got it
and then of course had to un-tell her when they took it away. It’s been
twenty-two years and Bob has never once said a word to me about it. That’s his
style. To his credit he has given me the maximum raise every year and has given
me a ridiculous number of commendations. His way of paying penance or tribute
or whatever, I’m sure.” Tackett paused to refill their cups. “Don’t get me
wrong, Sullivan. I am not the type to hold grudges, but I want you to know that
Bob Tierney is a man who is always looking out for himself first, and usually
at the expense of others. “Case 1032,” Tackett said pointing, “the first guy to
get that case was Danny Fleming. Fleming was a great cop and a great friend.”
Tackett stopped pouring into his cup and turned up the flask before he spoke.
“He’s why I became a cop, frankly. He played a couple of years of NFL football actually,
before injuring his shoulder with the Raiders. Then joined the force so he
could stay around some action, I guess. Family man, two kids. He liked getting
a cat down from a tree as much as busting a crook though. Everyone in San Diego
loved the guy, in spite of his playing for the wrong team. He and Tierney never
got along. Tierney thought he was too old school and of course Bob hates anyone
who is naturally popular. It cuts into his theory that the wheels must be
greased for you to win in this world. Once Tierney became chief he purposely
gave Fleming the worst cases--1032 started out as a simple breaking and
entering actually. Someone called it in anonymously. But no one could explain
all the blood found at the scene and none of it showed up in the DNA databases,
then or now for that matter. There were two blood types for sure, but not a
shred of evidence for who it belonged to. Fleming only had the case for a
couple of months before he disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”

“Yeah, hasn’t been seen since, that
was twelve years ago now. Left for work on a Monday morning and just never
showed up. Never found his car or him, like the earth just fucking swallowed
him.”

“You think it was related to this
case?”

“I’m sure of it, though I don’t
know exactly how.”

“Have you looked through the files
yourself?”

“Numerous times. There’s nothing
much in there. I even had some of the initial suspects followed, tapped a
couple of phones. Nothing came of it.”

“Then maybe you’re wrong.”

“That’s always possible,” he said
handing over the flask. “But I don’t think so. Not this time. This case has
become very quietly, mind you, one that Bob Tierney has a personal stake in and
that’s what scares me the most. The pressure from Sacramento to squelch this
before it becomes a big story in the press is immense. What else did Bob tell
you about the case, if anything?”

“Only that it was ice cold and to
take my time. I figured I was getting a demotion right out of the gate.”

“Yeah, I figured as much, the son
of a bitch. It’s backwardass psychology. He knows a competitive guy like
yourself will get all over it so you can move on to bigger and better things.
Look Sullivan, after Fleming disappeared, the case got handed over to a guy
named Nicky Jensen, Fleming’s partner. Finish it,” Tackett said pointing to the
flask. “It’s only the fact that they disappeared four years apart that’s kept
this case from becoming a scandal already.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are the third detective who
has been given case 1032. The other two have never been heard from again.”

Chapter 9

Downy rounded the corner on third and he could feel
butterflies in his stomach. He hadn’t anticipated feeling so nervous and he
actually stopped walking so he could take a deep breath.
Ok, just go in
you
idiot.
This was your big idea.
When he entered
the room it was unusually bright, the late afternoon sun still pouring in from
outside. At the bar sat Samara. She had clearly changed for the evening. She
now wore a sleeveless black dress cut high at the thigh. Her shoes, black
stilettos, dangled from her toes. This was all a very bad idea he suddenly
realized. But it was too late. Samara smiled and rose to greet him as he walked
in. She already had a drink in hand.

“I’m so glad you came,” she said
hugging him tightly.

Her lips brushed just slightly
against his neck when they embraced and he almost lost it. He glanced down at
her shoulder and could see the tattoo’s dark ink against her skin. He opened
his mouth to speak, but Samara put her hand to it. She pointed at the bar.

“That’s a double shot of their
finest Scotch. Drink now, then meet me in the back,” she said pointing to the
far corner.

 
He watched her walk away silently and
reached for the drink. As he lifted it, out of the corner of his eye, he could
see the second floor balcony, where he had sat so many times with Charlie. It
was empty and dark. The scotch went down smoothly and was warm in his stomach.
He looked for Samara, but he couldn’t see well into the darkness in back.
What the hell was she up to?
he thought.
In the corner, just out of view of the bar he saw her leaning against one of
those old fashioned red phone booths from downtown London. The booth was new,
or at least he didn’t remember it being there before. It
had
been awhile since he’d been in, too long. Samara stood posed
like someone out of a movie and used her finger to beckon him toward her.

“Man, the scotch is really good, I
can see why you two spent so much time here,” she said looking around. “Get
inside,” she said pointing with her head to the booth. His head was humming
now, from the shot, from everything.

“Ok,” he heard himself saying.

As he slid nervously inside, Samara
appeared without warning, pressing against him and without a word her mouth was
on his. They were trapped together in the booth and she squeezed the door
closed behind them. He had no space to move away, so instead surrendered
himself to the feeling of her lips against his, her body pressing against him.
Worse was that he could sense real emotion coming from her. This had been saved
up and planned for. The fear and exhilaration were impossible to disentangle.
Finally, when it seemed they’d both have to gasp for air she stopped. They both
froze. Her head slid down against his chest. She held it there for many
seconds. He was afraid to speak. Finally, she looked up at him; her eyes were
misty and her pupils dilated.

“I hope you enjoyed that as much as
I did, cause it’s the last time it can ever happen,” she said in a low voice.
“Let me look at you,” she said squinting. He could almost recognize the face of
the teenage girl she had been when he had last seen her. “Before we get out of
this booth I want you to know two things: one,” she said raising her finger, “I
will never tell another living soul what just happened, especially not your
wife. Two, if I ever decided to seduce you there is absolutely nothing you
could do but be seduced, so don’t ever preach to me about principles and doing
the right thing. I know all about a man’s principals and a woman’s for all
that. It’s good for the both of us that that’s not what I want. But we did have
to do this, so we can say it’s past us and so that you know where you stand and
I know where I stand.”

“Where is that exactly?” he said.

Samara smiled, “On even footing.
I’m not a little girl any more, Noah. I need us to be equals.” It startled him
to hear her use his name. “I need to talk to you about something very important
and if there is sexual tension between us, that will be impossible. We both
know you are married to a woman you love. You might even fall in love with me
too. That happens. But it won’t stop you from returning to her afterward. And
who could blame you? I’ve seen her pictures; and to keep your attention for all
these years, she must really be something. I’ve lost already. I’m not worried
you’ll tell her,” she said laughing playfully. “People are excellent at keeping
secrets of their own. It’s everybody else’s they can’t shut up about.”

“How old are you again?” he said
staring into her eyes.

“Twenty-five next year,” she said
pulling herself out of the booth and him with her.

They finally took a seat at the
table. The waiter appeared immediately.

“Since we have opened one of our
oldest and finest bottles of Macallum, shall I assume you will be having
another glass?”

“Of course.”

The waiter’s expression could not
betray the fact that he had seen all that had transpired; graciously he chose
not to make eye contact. He was overly polite.

“I will be right back with two
Macallums, an exceptional choice.”

“Thank you.”

Samara looked all around. “Man you
guys knew all the best spots didn’t you? This place is so great. Look at all
this stuff.”

The room looked like one giant
antique. At one end a giant boar’s head jutted from the wall, face forever
locked in a defiant grimace. An ancient, hulking jukebox still spun old 45’s.
Nat King Cole was crooning about his orange colored sky as she scanned the
room.

“It’s like--like Sherlock Holmes’
study,” she said wistfully.

“It’s exactly like that,” he said
looking around. He looked at her finally regaining some of his wits.

“What’s going on, Samara? What’s
this all about?”

“It just arrived,” she said looking
over his shoulder. The waiter placed the drinks in front of them.

“Thanks,” they both said in unison.

“It’s a long story, actually. What
did you tell Naomi?”

“I’m out drinking with the guys.”

“So you really were hoping we’d end
up at a hotel together?” she said arching her eyebrows.

His face flushed scarlet.

“It’s ok. I’m gonna be smart enough
for both of us, professor. Here’s to drinking with the boys,” she said raising
her glass.