"Can I help you lady." The desk sergeant was a short African American woman, who must have weighed close on 250 pounds on a good day. She was sitting high on her stool behind the booking desk, peering over her gla.s.ses with a strange disgruntled intensity.
Karyn pulled her Department of Justice badge and said, " Friendly visit Ma"am. The chief in?"
The desk sergeant raised a wry eyebrow, "The chief is always in, less there"s some G.o.dd.a.m.n television cameras needing his opinion. You don"t happen to have any television cameras with you do you?"
"No Ma"am, not currently no." The wry eyebrow rose northwards once again. "That I can see, Ms. So, here"s what you do, you go all along the corridor here and take the lift to the fourth floor-less stairs is your thing?" The sergeant paused, stared disapprovingly over the tops of her gla.s.ses before continuing. " In which case, you can take either flight, left or right, out front of the lobby, don"t much matter which you choose, they all go the same place," again a pause, followed this time by a smile, " I take it the chief he knows you are coming?"
"Thought I would surprise him. It"s more fun that way," said Karyn.
This time both eyebrows rose northwards, "The chief ain"t the kind of man who likes surprises, I can attest to that right now honey," said the desk sergeant.
Karyn smiled, "I was kind of hoping he wouldn"t be," she said. "Lifts at the end of the corridor?"
"Uhuhhhhh," intoned the desk sergeant. "But I got to warn you, he"s got some big swinging cheese from the FBI in there with him right now and their ain"t no telling how long that meeting is going to take." She was leaning out over the edge of the booking desk now talking to Karyn"s back.
Karyn raised a hand, gave a casual wave of thanks, thinking, Good, two birds with one G.o.dd.a.m.n stone.
09.
Upstairs in Honolulu Police Department, the offices were a marginal improvement on those downstairs. Here, the nicotine browns gave way to a more functional open-plan office arrangement in neo- Stalinist gray. Not a single aloha garland or Tiki torch accessory anywhere. This was something of a disappointment. The disappointment continued as Karyn double-timed across the office floor to the headman"s hangout. The whole place was drabber than a Chicago coroner"s office, on a go-slow Tuesday. In fact the office was so dreary and impersonal, it could have been in just about any Federal building anywhere in the United States. Not even a potted plant or a personal photo anywhere.
This didn"t bode well.
As she pa.s.sed through the open plan offices, Karyn sensed curious eyes following her progress-squad room detectives going about their business day to the click-clack rhythm of the computer keyboard. She flipped a nod and the briefest of smiles where necessary-it was their turf after all. Almost at her destination now, she caught sight of a thin, haunted face looking her way. The face struck a chord, so familiar and yet-she made a double-take glance, to filter further details, but the face had already turned away-almost too quickly, as though it had something to hide. Karyn looked harder now-and saw long boney fingers scratching at the back of a straggly mane of raven colored hair. Where had she seen that face before?
Recognition avoidance was a trademark of the serial wrongdoer, thought Karyn. She filtered back the split second glance, running it repeatedly through her mind, hoping her memory would provide answers. The face was male, early thirties, peering at her over thick-framed gla.s.ses. Perhaps she had been recognized? You could run into all kinds of ghosts in this business, some malevolent, others less so. But if she had been spotted, her cover was as good as blown, and that could not be allowed, not at this stage.
Karyn flipped the face through her mind, again and again but came up blank. Maybe it was nothing, maybe not.
She rapped on the gla.s.s to the chief"s office, but he had already seen her coming. He rose out of his chair like a grey ghost, a wiry slight man, of advancing years, the chief was wearing a neatly pressed uniform and large hat that gave him the air of an aging commissionaire at the sort of hotel where that kind of look still mattered. As he came around his desk to greet her, his steady walnut eyes regarded her unflinchingly.
"This is quite an honor Ms. Kane, it is nice to know that our government thinks so highly of us out here in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, that they would send a representatives from their most esteemed departments-we are honored indeed."
A chair in front of the chief"s neatly ordered desk spun a half turn and tilted back ever so slightly. The chair contained a squat muscular looking guy sporting a pudding-cut head-shave that bugled him out as ex-military.
The guy had an edge. Karyn could see that from the get go, as the homunculus little p.r.i.c.k just leaned back in his chair and stared at her. She stared back at him, melted him out. He looked like the kind of knucklehead who could bench 220 for breakfast and wasn"t afraid to tell everyone-like it was some kind of achievement or something. Not only that, he was wearing an eye popping Hawaiian shirt covered in parrots and psychedelic foliage.
The chief shook Karyn"s hand. His grip was wet and limp, "This is Ted Congo from the Federal Bureau of Investigation."
Congo remained in his seat, arms folded, his jungle gym arms pulsing with irritation. "I didn"t get no kind of message you were coming sweetheart, perhaps the big stink Department of Justice thinks it can just elbow its way onto my island and muscle my investigations?"
"Nice shirt," deadpanned Karyn.
"Hey, this is style sweetheart, you better get yourself some and fast, because your fancy a.s.sed Capitol Hill power clothes ain"t going to win you no friends around here, let me tell you."
Karyn ignored him. She turned, sat on the edge of the chief"s desk and regarded the two men with the cold authority of career diplomat. "So, Tex Johnston shoots the Governor then takes a tumble out of his 48th floor apartment. Rather careless of him wouldn"t you say?"
"Careless h.e.l.l. That sonofab.i.t.c.h had it all planned out you ask me," growled Congo.
"Easy now Ted," said the chief. "We don"t have a definitive answer on that one, not until all the tests are back."
"What are you talking about Donald? We got a million dollars in ready cash, found at the scene of the crime no less. Now, you ask me, that is proof positive that Tex Johnston was trying to dirty up the Governor, like as not the Governor said no, him being a man of honor and all."
Karyn said, "This is as far as you have gotten gentlemen?"
Congo looked at the chief, then back at Karyn, his quick card-cheat eyes a.s.sessing the situation, sizing it up and computing just exactly what kind of line he was going to spin next.
The chief looked uncomfortable, an undercurrent of tension squeezing his face ever tighter. "We have got to handle this one by the book, utilize the services of Ms. Kane here. This is an election year for Christsake, we cannot afford to have any political snafus."
"Two days and this is all you got?" said Karyn, her voice quiet.
"We got a murder suicide is what we got, and I will be d.a.m.ned if the Federal Bureau of Investigation needs its hand holding to figure out just why a deadbeat like Tex Johnston turned his whisky addled brain to murdering one of the most respected politicians our community has ever seen."
"There was the girl too of course," said Karyn.
"Girl, h.e.l.l, she was a G.o.dd.a.m.n hooker, there ain"t no one going to cry tears over a dead hooker, specially when she"s a cozy little pal of that dirty Senator friend of yours-what was she-one of your Department of Justice insiders Agent Kane? Whoring herself out for the US Government, so she could feed you the inside dope on your senator friends dirty little business dealings?"
Was this p.r.i.c.k the guy? wondered Karyn. She looked in through his eyes and examined his soul. She didn"t like what she saw. Ted Congo was a good liar, bordering on excellent, but he was a liar nonetheless. The phony outrage and the tell all pantomime all tailing together, to prove just one thing-Special Agent Ted Congo, head honcho at FBI Honolulu was hiding something. But there was more than lies to this unpleasant little man-there was something else, something arrogant and deeply unpleasant. Karyn had met a lot of Federal Agents in the course of her career at the Agency, but she had never met one quite so relentlessly egomaniacal as Congo. What was it that Senegar had said? Use only the lightest of touches whilst dealing with local law enforcement-keep blue-collar casualties to an absolute minimum. Karyn sensed a grey area. Federal Agent Congo wasn"t strictly local law enforcement he was the station chief of a Federal Agency, a government man. Terminate with Extreme Prejudice. This was a Deep- Five operation, not a girl-scout fact-finding mission, if this little p.r.i.c.k wanted to play rough he was about to find out what it was like to be a casualty of his own stupidity.
Karyn closed her eyes momentarily, nightmare visions of the past flooding in. Hurting people could become an addiction-a pleasure even. There were so many ways to inflict pain. Karyn had been doing the job so long now she had invented very many of her own. Allowing a controlled burst of the horror that lurked within her, she imagined the face of Ted Congo, contorted screaming, his features distended beyond the normal limits of humanity. He was the kind of person she liked to make suffer. Jack Senegar had been right to send her out here, no doubt about that.
An epiphany hit.
Karyn opened her eyes.
"Are you suggesting that the girl was working for the Federal Government?" asked Karyn, her voice hard and even. Ted Congo and Chief Donald Mlama exchanged wary glances, "We have no evidence to support that theory," said the Chief uneasily.
"Yet," added Congo, his face oozing contempt.
10.
"I am going to need a detailed synopsis of your progress so far," said Karyn."
"You think I got time to be tippity-tapping out reports for the Department of Justice?" snapped Ted Congo nastily. "There ain"t no way in h.e.l.l sweetheart. I got myself an investigation to take care of, but soon as I am through, you can be a.s.sured that your superiors in Washington will get all the requisite paperwork, signed sealed and delivered." He sat back in his chair arms folded, and regarded her with a steady gaze.
A grimace caught at the edges of Chief Mlama"s, mouth and lingered there momentarily. "I happen to have an interim report right here on my desk, Special Agent Kane, if that would be of any help?"
Karyn smiled, then, nodded very slowly, "Thank you very much," she said.
"Not a problem," said the chief, "We are on the same side after all, are we not?"
Karyn"s smile became broader, "Absolutely," she said. "Anything I can do to further a.s.sist with the investigation, please let me know. Naturally, I will be reviewing the case files and making a few enquires of my own." Big chief Kahuna burger was trying to be nice, either through fear, or an inescapable compulsion to do his duty. More likely he knew that the big wheels at the Department of Justice would run both him and his jurisdiction flat in a New York second, if they thought he was trying to screw with them. Maybe, if he knew he was dealing with the CIA he would be even more cooperative. A happy thought. Karyn turned to Ted Congo, flipped him a wink.
Congo gave a derisive snort.
The chief said, "Anything further you need, just let us know, Special Agent, we have got to pull together on this one."
"I am sure I will think of something," said Karyn. Her tone was light, with a hard undercurrent of authority.
Ted Congo pulled a face. But Karyn was already out the room, the special police report nestling snugly in the top of her big black Gucci bag.
As Karyn headed back towards the lifts, with the a.n.a.lysis of the brief meeting tumbling through her mind, the neo-Stalinist decor looked somehow less austere than it had seemed on the way up. Karyn glanced over to the cubicle where she had spied the familiar face, but the chairs were now empty, the mysterious occupant and his police interrogator long gone.
Maybe she was losing it? There was a time when she would have snapped an ID on the guy she had seen, just as soon as look at him. Worse, Senegar had said this was a level-nine gig-threat level advanced and imminent. Now that little creep Ted Congo might be a p.r.i.c.k on wheels, with a mouth a yard wide, but there was no way that short-stop loser was a nine-not even if he was running down hill with the breaks off. As for big Chief Mlama, he looked and sounded for all the world like a straight arrow career cop just doing his job-right down to his stack of office sports trophies and the pictures of his grown up family hanging all over the walls. The idea that these two were running some kind of advanced level conspiracy against the United States just didn"t wash. As for the untimely deaths of Senator Tex Johnston and the governor, the events there still posed too many questions. Karyn glanced at her Rolex, almost five, nearly c.o.c.ktail hour. One of the few good things about having business at police headquarters was the guarantee that there would be a kick a.s.s bar near by. The sound of cold ice rattling into a hard gla.s.s, followed by a generous. .h.i.t of tequila and lime, made her taste buds jump- alive. It had been a h.e.l.l of a morning, and chances were the evening would pick up the pace from here.
With a rapidly forming plan racing her mind forwards, Karyn strode into the lift, as she did so, a quick figure darted after her, his thin fingers prizing at the rapidly closing doors. Karyn stood at the back of the lift and watched him come. It was the thin-faced guy with straggly black hair she had seen earlier, except this time he was up close and personal, squirming his thin little body through the half open doors.
Having given up their attempt to close, the lift doors swished open, allowing the dark-haired figure to burst inside, released abruptly from the metallic clutches of the doors, he staggered forward unsteadily, almost b.u.mping into Karyn.
She didn"t move, not even a fraction. "You got to help me," blurted the figure. Karyn raised her eyebrows in tandem, tilted her head very slightly to one side, to a.s.sess the newcomer more fully, but said nothing.
"You know the chief right?"
Again Karyn raised her eyebrows, gave the newcomer a disapproving twist of her mouth.
The newcomer stared, his soft brown eyes bugging fearfully behind his thick-framed gla.s.ses. He swallowed now, ran his fingers through his straggly black hair. He took a step closer, "They don"t believe me you see," he whispered, rather louder than was necessary. "I told them, but they don"t believe me-if I could only get to see the chief-make him understand."
Karyn raised an accusatory finger, wagged it in the newcomers face and said, "I have seen you somewhere before,"
The lift gave a jolt and started its slow descent.
The thin face grew tight, his anxiety peaking, "I don"t know, I mean, maybe-you are a lawyer or something, right-a friend of the chief?"
"What"s your name?"
The guy looked about desperately-Verner, I mean Brad-Brad Verner, that is. I came in here to tell the chief what has been happening. We are all in danger. You know that don"t you?"
"Yeah, that may well be so Verner, but you might want to ease down the stress level just a tad, and tell me what the h.e.l.l you are talking about." His eyes flickered nervously, as though he were looking for some kind of camera, or listening device. Suddenly, Karyn made the connections, remembering Verner"s face staring up at her from the pages of a CIA report, an e-file PDF Jack Senegar had given her before she split out for the Islands. It was always nice to meet the face behind the file and establish just how closely the intelligence matched up.
"They are going to blow the Island up. If my calculations are right, this thing is going to be as big as Pearl Harbor, maybe even bigger."
"Who exactly are we talking about here Verner, the j.a.panese?"
Brad Verner paused momentarily, his mouth hanging open, before scrunching his eyes.
His thin fingers drumming against the sides of head with frustration he said, "No, not the j.a.panese, of course not the j.a.panese, this is worse than that, much worse-a disaster bigger than Banda Aceh and the f.u.kushima Daiichi crisis at Thoku
combined."
"Wow, said Karyn, "That is going to be quite some event. Who did you say was going to be responsible for this?"
Brad Verner"s eyes popped wide behind his thick-rimmed spectacles, "The Federal Government of course, they are going to blow up Hawaii, and the rest of the world too, if they get chance." Brad Verner paused for breath and said, "I have to stop them. Will you help me? If only I can get in to see Chief Mlama, I can convince him, I am certain I
can."
Karyn nodded thoughtfully, "So tell me Verner-this is a h.e.l.l of a theory you got going, but where exactly did you first come across this information, the Internet?"
"You don"t believe me do you?"
"Oh, I believe you alright Verner. Trouble is, you have got to have evidence to back up those kind of theories-over and above the kind of c.r.a.pola you might have heard on talk radio a week last Tuesday. I don"t suppose you have any evidence to back up these claims do you?"
A soft ping rang out, as the lift reached the lobby.
Brad Verner looked indignant, "Of course I have evidence, plenty of evidence. I have my research."
"Your research?"
"Of course my research. You didn"t think I would be just making this up did you?"
Karyn gave Brad Verner a thin, sympathetic look, as the lift doors opened wide, revealing a small crowd making ready to board. "Tell me, where is this research Verner?"
Brad Verner looked immediately down cast. "Burnt. Gone-they destroyed it, didn"t they? You didn"t think they would allow the facts to come out did you, it would ruin their plans."
Stepping out into the lobby, Karyn turned to Brad Verner and said, "It is usually the way these things work Verner. The Government has people- facilitators who take care of such things, now if you will excuse me, I have business to attend to." And with that Karyn turned her back and headed out the door.