The Brothers Read online

  Chapter 14… Paranoia

  As Harry pulled into his driveway, he could see the sun going down in his rearview and its reflection cast an orange band across his eyes. He sat there for a second listening to the car tick away heat, wondering how to express what he’d been considering since they’d left Ducky and Monica in the Bronx.

  “Out with it,” Denise ordered. “I know you’ve been thinking about something since we left the restaurant, and from the look on your face it’s something you don’t want to tell me.”

  He tried to turn in his seat, but his aching ribs had something to say about that. “I think I’m going to take a few days off,” he said into the windshield. “And I think you should too.”

  Denise nodded. “I see.”

  He didn’t know what that meant, exactly, but he could see that she wasn’t about to let him off the hook. “I can give you my reasons.”

  “That would be nice.”

  Oh, so that’s the way it was going to be. “I’m worthless at work right now. It’s like my mind isn’t even there.”

  “That’s it?” she said, looking straight ahead.

  That sounded like strike one. “No, there’s more. I think I have to be closer to what’s going on with Hutch’s investigation—or lack of investigation is a better way of putting it. If I don’t push this forward in a bigger way, I think it will all blow over and Hutch’s murder will be swept under the rug never to be addressed again. There will be no justice.”

  “You mean there will be no vengeance.”

  She looked at him coldly and he figured that was strike two. “There’s another reason.”

  “I’m here, waiting, and listening, as I always am.”

  That hurt. “The truth is that I think I’m in danger, and I’m scared. I also think you’re in danger just by being with me, and if anything should ever happen to you, I might as well be dead too. I love you, Denise, and I’ve got to solve this thing for more than vengeance. I want us both to be around for a while longer, together... forever.” She looked at him oddly now, a look he didn’t recognize.

  “What’s wrong with vengeance?” she asked. Her lips curled into what looked more like a snarl than a smile. “Get them, Harry. The brothers called you Dirty Harry back in the day. Get ‘em, and get ‘em good, I won’t stand in your way.” She paused. “There’s just one thing.”

  He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “And what’s that?”

  “If you’re going off the grid, I’m going with you.”

  * * * * *

  They stepped out onto the back deck to have their conversation, not trusting that they were in complete privacy regardless of what Breckenridge said about the surveillance being deactivated. For now, they were prisoners in their own home.

  “Did you make the hotel reservations?” Denise asked

  “Well, sort of. Here’s your phone back.”

  “Sort of? What does that mean?”

  “It’s commencement weekend at all the colleges in the area and the Wallingham Inn is completely booked. So are the other four places I tried. The only thing I could find was outside Springfield.”

  “But we have a room, right?”

  “I think we do.”

  “Harry, we either have a room, or we don’t. Which is it?”

  “Well, the guy said they don’t take reservations but he said he’d hold a room for us if we got there by 6:00 p.m.”

  “What kind of hotel doesn’t take reservations?”

  “The kind that rents rooms by the hour, but don’t worry, he’s going to give us the day rate.”

  Denise came up to him and wrapped her leg around his. “By the hour, huh? That could be very interesting.”

  “Uh, honey, my ribs... uh....”

  “Not to worry,” she whispered in his ear. “I’ll do all the work.”

  Harry smiled and held her close. “Paradise Motor Lodge here we come.”

  Denise broke his embrace and said, “Don’t forget to take these,” and she handed him a heavy molded case containing his Sig Sauer P320 and her Walther PPK.

  “Do you know if Massachusetts honors Jersey concealed carry permits?” Harry asked.

  “They don’t, but in view of what’s been going on....” Her voice trailed off and that was that. “Did you get things squared away with Karen and Jack?”

  “Sort of,” Harry replied. “I called them both at home and said I’d be gone for a few days.”

  He left it there, but seeing the guilt plastered all over his face, Denise said, “You’re a good boss, Harry. They’ll live.”

  “Let’s go,” he said. “Beautiful day for a drive.”

  Indeed it was a gorgeous Sunday and they enjoyed themselves listening to Big Joe Henry on 101.5 while driving up the Garden State Parkway to the Tappan Zee Bridge. The water on the Hudson gleamed in the bright sun, and the hill country east of Bear Mountain was in full bloom as they motored toward the northeast on I-84. They made it to the ‘beautiful Paradise Motor Lodge’ by 4:00 p.m. and found it to be not so beautiful, but were pleased to find that their room had a huge round bed and that there was an ice machine across the hall. Dinner was fast and easy at the Clucky Chicken Diner, and dessert was a bottle of cheap champagne from Tom’s Package Store that they brought back to the room. They iced the champagne with the free ice and drank it from plastic cups, then made love with Denise doing all the work as she had promised. Giggling like teenagers, they both fell asleep with smiles on their faces while listening to the squeaky bed in the next room.

  * * * * *

  They had a couple of hours before checkout time and Harry began to make his calls.

  “And a good fuckin’ morning to you too,” Fighting Al barked into the phone.

  Most people would have been a little taken aback, but this was Fighting Al he was dealing with. “So who pissed in your corn flakes first thing on a Monday morning?”

  “Sorry, Harry. I just got notice that my client’s son decided he wasn’t in the mood to make his court date this morning and the old man is torqued off at me because he’s seeing thirty grand in bail money go up in smoke. Now we gotta go find the punk-ass little twerp.”

  “But you had nothing to do with that.”

  “Hey, what can I say? These guys ain’t the most sharpest knives in the drawer. I assume you’re calling about that matter we talked about last Thursday when you was in the hospital. How’s the ribs, by the way?”

  Harry noticed that Al specifically didn’t mention what their previous conversation might have been about. Al knew his way around a conversation, all right; wouldn’t want to go up against him in court. “Ribs are coming along, and, yeah, I was wondering how you made out.”

  “My guy says he’ll be taking a hell of a chance gettin’ that information, Harry. Touchy exercise these days with all the privacy laws and all.”

  Okay, thought Harry, he knew where this was going and he had to smile, even if it was to himself. “I see. Is there something we can do to make him feel more secure in this endeavor?”

  Al said, “I think there might be something we can do to ease his angst.”

  “How much easing do we need?” Harry went on.

  “Gee Harry, I’m not in a situation where I can talk about that over the phone right now.”

  “Then maybe we can discuss it over lunch or maybe over a couple of beers after work.”

  Al said, “Lunch? Where you calling from, Harry. Ain’t you in Jersey?”

  “Nope. I’m right here in Springfield.”

  “Takin’ a little vacation?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Can you meet me at 5:30 this afternoon at a place called the Tin Cat?”

  “I can. Hopefully we can settle this little matter.”

  “Good, good. Give me your cell number and I’ll text you the address.”

  “You don’t mind if Denise tags along, do you?”

  “Not at all. Hav
en’t seen the little woman in quite a while. Looking forward to it.”

  Harry ended the call and looked at Denise. “Okay, little woman. Who’s next?”

  “That would be Fish. Here’s the number.”

  Harry punched it up and had to leave a voicemail, but the phone vibrated in his hand seconds later.

  “Sorry,” said Fish. “I didn’t recognize the number and I thought it was a junk call. You got a new cell phone number?”

  “My phone is out of commission right now and I’m using Denise’s phone.” Fish didn’t question it and Harry was glad he didn’t have to explain about Breckenridge and the whole surveillance thing. “I was wondering if you ever checked out the possibility of getting the security recordings from that ATM machine on Newberry Street. Last time we talked about it you said it might have had a view of Hutch’s car on... you know... the night.”

  “I did better than check it out,” Fish said proudly. “I got the actual footage.”

  Harry’s heart skipped a beat. “How the hell did you manage that?”

  “Uh, I’d rather not say, and I’m pretty sure you’d rather not know.”

  “Have you looked at it?”

  “I have,” Fish replied.

  “Well?”

  “Maybe I should send you a copy and you can decide for yourself.”

  “Decide what?”

  “You should really see it for yourself.”

  “So bring it with you and we’ll watch it together. I’m in Springfield and I’m meeting Fighting Al at five-thirty at a place called the Tin Cat. Can you make it?”

  “I’ll bring my laptop,” Fish said.

  Harry ended the call and turned to Denise. “Who’s next on the list?”

  “Detective Pruitt.”

  Harry punched it up and Pruitt picked up just as he thought the call would go to voicemail. “Ah, let me call you back in five minutes,” she said when he identified himself.

  Ten minutes later, Harry heard his cell phone go off—his cell phone, not Denise’s cell phone, which was the one he was using. He picked it up, telling Pruitt to call him back on Denise’s number. “Why are you playing musical phones?” she asked when he picked up.

  He hesitated, wondering if it was wise to tell her about Breckenridge, FinCEN, and all the other juicy tidbits he’d discussed with Ducky and Monica at Quattro Fratelli. One part of him was thinking the situation was getting so complicated that he was having a hard time knowing who he could trust. Another part of him said that if he was in Pruitt’s shoes, going out on a limb like she was to find out who’d murdered Hutch and information like the CIA, FinCEN, and the possibility of international terrorists being involved was kept from her, he’d be pretty pissed, especially if it put him in danger. He guessed further that someone attempting to run him off the road, and Suzanne’s house being burglarized by unknown perpetrators looking for what Pruitt was now in possession of, both pretty much constituted dangerous situations. “I can tell you about the phone thing when we see each other in person.”

  “When is that going to be?” Pruitt asked. “New Jersey is a long way from Northampton.”

  “I’ll get to that,” Harry responded. “I understand that Suzanne Hutchinson turned over Hutch’s cell phone and laptop to you.”

  “She has,” Pruitt responded, keeping it cagey on her end as well.

  “Have you had a chance to examine either of those items?” Harry asked.

  “I’m not sure I can, legally,” Pruitt replied. “There a chance that my examining them without the proper search warrants could make any potential evidence inadmissible in court should this non-case ever get that far. The way I understand it, Mrs. Hutchinson is the rightful owner of the cell phone at this point, but one of the main uses for that phone was for Mister Hutchinson’s work at the bank. Ownership rights to what’s on that phone are blurred here, and probably require a judge to decide how we would need to proceed. I also understand that the laptop is indeed bank property, and as such we would need permission from the bank in order to legally examine it. Either that or we would have to serve a search warrant directly to the bank.”

  Harry continued, “Listen, I understand your reluctance, but what if I told you that both the CIA and the U.S. Treasury Department would be extremely interested in those items, and if either of those agencies got hold of them you’d never see them again. My guess is that if you’re really interested in doing justice for Suzanne Hutchinson and her family and finding Hutch’s killer, you’re going to need to know what’s on those devices.”

  “How do you know all this?” Pruitt asked.

  Denise suddenly got up and went to the window, peeking through the sliver of light between the glass and the curtain. A moment later, she went to the molded carrying case and extracted her Walther PPK. She looked at Harry and signaled for him to continue.

  “Listen,” he said, “about meeting in person. I’m in Springfield and I’m meeting with a couple of my fraternity brothers tonight at five-thirty at a place called the Tin Cat. They’ve got some information that might be important. Can you make it?”

  “I’ll be there,” said Pruitt.

  Harry ended the call and looked at Denise. “What’s out there?” he asked as she moved to the other side of the window.

  “Go ahead and call Ducky and Monica and then we can check out of here,” Denise replied. “It’s probably just my imagination.”

  * * * * *

  The drive to the Tin Cat took no more than fifteen minutes. Harry looked at the dashboard clock, seeing that it was just past noon. “What do you think?”

  Denise shook her head and said, “I don’t like it.”

  Well aware of his wife’s instincts, his stomach had been churning ever since they’d checked out of the beautiful Paradise Motor Lodge. “Do you want to check out the inside? Looks like they’re open for lunch.”

  “I guess,” she said. “We gotta eat someplace.”

  The Tin Cat was an old neighborhood joint that had obviously once been a shot-and-a-draft type place but had now been reinvented into a gastropub. Typical lawyer place, thought Harry, noting that the beer came in tulip glasses and the price of one approached double figures. They ordered a pricey burger and the trendy shepherd’s pie, neither of them enjoying their dish.

  “What’s your gut telling you?” Harry asked.

  Denise pushed her plate away. “It’s telling me this shepherd’s pie has too much thyme in it.”

  “You know what I mean.” She looked him straight in the eye and pulled her handbag close to her in the booth. Harry eyed the bag, knowing what was in it. “Denise?”

  “My gut is telling me we should not have made those phone calls using my phone. We should have known better.”

  Harry thought: Duh! They should have known better, and ten minutes later they were on their way to a cell phone store to take care of that little problem. The transaction was surprisingly easy and while they weren’t completely at ease that someone wasn’t monitoring their every move and every phone call, they felt better. Denise said Breckenridge was slimy and she was still going to be on the lookout for any car, or cars that repeatedly crossed their path. “How do we know he wasn’t using us as bait?” she asked. “How can we trust anybody?”

  Harry didn’t argue and mentally slapped himself that he hadn’t thought of that. Don’t get sloppy, he thought to himself, but then he turned to Denise and said, “We can trust the brothers.”

  “Then no one else should be involved in this,” she said back to him.

  Harry knew she was right. Sitting in the car, debating their next move, he noticed she was already on her new cell phone, comparing it to her old cell phone. “What are you doing?”

  “I want to make sure everything has been transferred properly. We need to turn these old phones off.”

  Again, Harry gave himself a mental head slap. “No tower pinging,” he said.

  “Very good, dear. No
w, we need to use these new phones and rearrange tonight’s meeting.”

  Harry could see that she was way ahead of him. “What would you suggest, cupcake?”

  She gave him a snarl. “Why not go back to the original scene?”

  “Slick’s,” said Harry, smiling at her. “You’re a genius.”

  “I know.”

  * * * * *

  Fighting Al came from his office in Springfield and he walked into Slick’s carrying a single manila envelope. Toting a large carry bag containing the laptop and cell phone she’d obtained from Suzanne Hutchinson, Pruitt arrived from her detective unit headquarters in Northampton, while Monica came in from the DA’s office also in Northampton. Ducky came from a job site for a shopping mall his company was rehabbing in South Hadley, and Fish had the longest drive, coming from his job at Pratt & Whitney headquarters in East Hartford, Connecticut. He walked in at 6:35 p.m. with a Boston Celtics backpack slung over his shoulder.

  “You look a little tired,” Al said jokingly when Fish walked in. “What’s that dragging behind you? Oh, never mind, it’s your ass.” Al was doing his best to lighten the moment, but the suspense hung on them like an oil slick. He bought a pitcher and poured beers for everyone as they arrived except for Pruitt, who partook of some tonic water with lime. They all remembered Pruitt from the night Hutch died, of course, but only Monica buddied up to her. For the brothers, using the word Detective when addressing her seemed to be a disconnect.

  The change of time and location had been relatively easy to rearrange, and Harry and Denise had arrived early in order to secure a couple of tables for the seven of them in the back. The bartender was the same young goth chick who was on duty that ill-fated evening of Hutch’s death, her pierced nose, heavy black eye makeup, and blue-streaked hair looking exactly the same. She said her name was Indigo. She recognized all of them instantly and was quite courteous, making sure they got as much privacy as possible once Harry popped her a forty-dollar tip and explained what they were doing. She said she was sorry their friend had died and did a good job of keeping the other patrons relegated to the bar and the tables in the front.

  Harry said they’d wait until 6:45 until Denise was “done.”

  “Done with what?” Ducky asked.

  “I’ll explain when she joins us,” Harry replied, not revealing that she was parked across the street watching to see if any of them had been followed, or if any suspicious-looking vehicles suddenly showed up. Denise came in at 6:48 and gave Harry a nod, and he called the meeting to order.

  “We all know why we’re here,” he said. “I’d like to ask if we’re all here as private citizens.” He eyeballed Monica first and Pruitt next, as did the others.

  Monica looked at Ducky and shifted uncomfortably in her seat, but said nothing. It was the loudest thing she could have said. Likewise, Pruitt wasn’t about to declare herself a vigilante in public. “Mister Curlander,” she began, “up to now there is no hard evidence that a crime has taken place. If what you all are about to present proves otherwise, I will be forced to adhere to the laws and regulations surrounding criminal investigations to ensure that your information was obtained in a legal manner.”

  “Thanks for the company line,” Harry cracked back to her, “but do you really believe there’s no evidence?”

  Monica said, “If there is evidence, and you have it, we have to make sure it’s admissible in court, Harry.”

  Unexpectedly, it was Fighting Al who said, “Then maybe it would be best if you and the detective went to the nearest Starbucks and had a latte—no offense intended,” he added quickly.

  Monica speared Ducky with a look. “Is that what you want?” she asked sharply.

  Jumping in, Harry said, “Let’s not all get off on the wrong foot.”

  “Harry, it’s okay,” said Ducky, but he snapped a wicked glare at Al. “Just give it a chance,” he said to Monica. “You heard what Harry told us at the restaurant on Saturday.”

  “If any evidence that’s discovered becomes inadmissible for whatever reason,” Monica said tersely, looking at Al, “not only will all the work you’ve done have gone for naught, but you risk making the perpetrators unprosecutable.” She looked at Harry. “Is that what you want?” she repeated, emphasizing the words differently.

  “Maybe you and the detective can let them know when they’re going over the line legally,” said Denise, and all eyes turned to her. “They’re going to go through with this whether you agree with it or not,” she added. “Can’t you see that?”

  Monica just threw up her hands. “I think you’re already over the line, all of you. The more I hear, the crazier I think this is.”

  Pruitt just sipped her tonic water and asked Denise, “Were any of us followed?”

  “You saw me out there?” Denise questioned.

  “You’re not the only one who likes to check things out, especially about this situation.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Fish asked, speaking for the first time.

  Pruitt went on to describe the suspicious dark sedan she’d spotted at Suzanne Hutchinson’s house the previous Friday, and her feeling that she wasn’t the only one who went there to obtain the laptop and cell phone that was now in her carry bag. She described further her suspicion that Suzanne’s house might have been under surveillance. Pulling a plain white envelope from the carry bag, she handed it to Harry. “Mrs. Hutchinson found this among her husband’s belongings and she wanted me to give it to you.”

  “What is it?” Harry asked.

  “I don’t know,” Pruitt replied. “It’s sealed and I didn’t ask for permission to open it.”

  Harry noted the message scrawled on the outside of the envelope: “Harry, use precaution.” He carefully tore it open, extracting a single piece yellow legal pad paper.

  “What is it?” three people asked at the same time.

  Harry just shook his head. “Looks like a list.” He counted the letters on each line. “Each entry is composed of ten letters, but they’re not actual words. Looks like a code of some sort.”

  “Mean anything to you?” Al asked.

  Harry shook his head. “Not offhand.” He turned to Pruitt. “Did Suzanne indicate why Hutch wanted me to have this?”

  “She did not,” Pruitt answered. “I asked her if she’d found anything else in Mister Hutchinson’s belongings that seemed unusual, and she said no.”

  “Did she indicate where she found this?”

  “It was in his brief case. She found it when she went in there to get the laptop that the human resource impostors were after.”

  “What human resource impostors?” Al asked.

  “Too much to explain right now,” Harry replied. “Let’s stay on track and each of us talk specifically about why we’re here. Otherwise, we’ll never get through this.”

  “A compartmentalized operation,” Al observed. “Very cool.”

  “We’ll have to get back to this,” said Harry, putting the list aside. “Al, what d’ya got?”

  Al plopped the manila envelope he’d been holding onto the table. “I got what you asked for Harry, but are you sure you want to go through this now, here?” It was Al’s way of agreeing with Monica and Pruitt that whatever was in that envelope could very well become compromised as evidence should a defense attorney ever become aware of how it was obtained.

  Harry said, “If we want to solve this, I don’t think we have a choice.” Knowing why Fish was there, and knowing that Fish had probably also obtained the information he would present not exactly legally, Harry said, “What do you think, Fish?”

  Fish replied, “If we don’t use what we have, we have zero chance of discovering who killed Hutch.”

  “You know,” said Pruitt, causing everyone look in her direction. “We don’t necessarily have to be the ones to pursue an investigation.”

  “Then why the hell are we here?” Harry shot back aggressively, to which Denise put a han
d on his arm.

  “Didn’t you tell me Mister Hutchinson was contacted by the Treasury Department some months back?” Pruitt asked, and Harry nodded. “Do you think there’s a chance they were looking into some irregularities at his bank? Do you think further that there might be information on Mister Hutchinson’s laptop that supports that possibility, information that someone outside the bank went to great lengths to obtain by posing as human resources representatives and duping Mrs. Hutchinson into handing over that laptop to them so that the information would not be discovered?”

  Monica nearly came out of her chair. “Information that would cause some other law enforcement agency to open an investigation into laws broken under its jurisdiction.”

  “Watch what you say here, Monica,” Ducky admonished. “You can’t say anything that you can’t admit to saying under oath.”

  She stared at him for some moments, and then turned to Pruitt. “Go on,” she said curtly.

  “What I’m asking is this,” said Pruitt as she eyeballed each of the brothers in turn. “Is it important to you who, or which law enforcement agency, gets to the bottom of Mister Hutchinson’s death?”

  “Who gives a damn?” said Harry. “As long as there’s justice, I don’t care if it’s the man on the moon who solves this.” The other brothers nodded their agreement.

  Fish said, “You know, they got Al Capone on tax evasion, not murder, but he still went away for the rest of his life.”

  Monica picked up her beer and gave Harry a sly wink. Just to make sure they were all on the same page, she said, “You know, Detective, it’s interesting that you mention that there could be other law enforcement agencies interested in this situation. I was talking to a friend of mine recently and I found out that there’s an organization inside the Treasury Department called FinCEN that’s dedicated to uncovering financial crimes and it works with law enforcement to prosecute them. If there are irregularities at Hutch’s bank that violate federal laws, they might be interested in looking at that. Have you ever heard of FinCEN, Detective Pruitt?”

  “I have not,” Pruitt replied.

  “You might want to check it out when you get a chance.”

  The table was set. They were now building a case for the feds and they were going to hand it over all tied up with neat little bow. Harry thought: Breckenridge you jackass, this might be your lucky day. He looked at the envelope in the middle of the table. “Al?”

  Al polished off his beer and opened the envelope. “These are Hutch’s calls and texts from his cell phone for the last six months.”

  Monica couldn’t help herself. “Pretexting, I assume?”

  Her question was a direct inference that Al had obtained the records by pretending to be Hutch, which could be considered a serious crime in some situations. Al was much too sharp to answer her directly. He flashed a grin at Harry and said, “Sorry Ms. Prosecutor, I would have to cite attorney-client privilege before I could answer how I came across these records. By the way Harry, this cost us a grand, but I’ll split it with ya’.”

  Monica said, “Uh-huh.”

  “Monica...?” Ducky admonished.

  “Sorry,” she said. “Force of habit.” She signaled for Al to continue, but the look on her face indicated the conversation was giving her some severe stomach pain.

  Al just smiled and went on, “I took the liberty of segregating any numbers that couldn’t be identified. Those are highlighted in yellow. We also noted how many times Hutch corresponded with each number.”

  It didn’t really mean anything to anyone except Harry who took out his wallet and extracted a business card. It was the same card where he’d written down the phone number that Suzanne had recited to him over the phone five nights earlier, the same night someone had tried to run him off the road.

  “See this number,” he said, holding up the card. “Whoever owns this number was speaking to Hutch just before he died, even perhaps while he died. You’ll see this number listed at 5:02 p.m. on May 4th, the night of the reunion. I say this could be our killer.”

  “How do you know this?” Pruitt asked.

  “Do you have Hutch’s cell phone in that bag?” Harry asked.

  “I do,” Pruitt replied, and she reached in and pulled it out.

  “If you go into the call history you will see this number listed, and it might be the last call in or out on that phone. Hutch was on that call when he locked himself in his own car.”

  “From inside the car,” Pruitt added. “As if he was trying to get away from something, like someone was after him.”

  “Like someone was after me last Wednesday night,” Harry added.

  The room fell silent while Pruitt waited the agonizing thirty seconds for the phone to come on. She went into the call history, and sure enough there was the call just as Harry had described.

  “Badda-bing,” said Al.

  Fish added, “Yeah, good work, Harry.”

  “Now all we have to do is find out who owns that number.”

  “I hate to burst your bubble,” said Ducky, “but being on the phone with Hutch just before he died isn’t a crime, and it doesn’t make the person on the other end of that call a killer.”

  “Thank you!” Monica called out.

  “You’re right,” said Harry, “and maybe I’m jumping to conclusions, but it might put us one step closer.” He looked at Pruitt as he said it, but she could have been a statue. He turned to Fish. “Do you have something else for us?”

  Fish unzipped his Boston Celtics backpack and pulled out his laptop. It only took a few taps on the keyboard before a grainy image popped up on the screen. “This is the security footage from the ATM machine located at the Hampshire Bank branch located just up the street.”

  “It’s on the same side of the street as we are now, isn’t it?” Al asked as he poured Fish another beer.

  Fish pulled a legal pad out of the backpack and scrawled the location of the bank and the ATM. “This is Slick’s, this is the bank, and the ATM is located here, right next to the bank’s main entrance. Hutch’s car was parked on the other side of Newberry Street, just past the bank.” He drew the location of the car and drew a circle around it. “What you’re about to see—”

  Interrupting him, Monica said, “May I ask how you came to possess this surveillance material?”

  Fish said, “I’d rather not answer that right now, but you should know that it is still on its original server. If someone ever initiated an official investigation and they needed to subpoena this material, it should not be a problem.”

  Pruitt looked at Monica and said, “He probably hacked it.”

  “One hundred percent,” Monica shot back.

  “So do you want to see this or not?” Fish asked.

  Ducky made a face and said, “Go ahead Fish.”

  “What you’re about to see is from the afternoon of May 4th. I took the liberty of editing it down to the time period around the discovery of Hutch’s body, but there’s a whole lot of other action that happened on the street that afternoon that could be checked out.”

  Pruitt asked, “Such as?”

  “The most obvious are the license plate numbers of passing cars,” Fish replied. “I didn’t have the wherewithal to do that.”

  “You’d make a good detective,” said Pruitt. “Is there a time stamp on this footage?”

  “There is,” said Fish. “Let me show you.” Two taps later a video looking much like a YouTube video appeared on the screen with the date and time clearly emblazoned on the picture. It was 4:49 p.m. Fish froze the video and said, “The camera is designed to record people using the ATM so everything in the distance is somewhat distorted. If you look carefully, however, you will see a large Mercedes sedan passing the bank about a minute after I start the video again. Hutch drove a Mercedes model S500 which is a large car like the one you will see. I’ve looked at the footage a couple of different times for the one-hour time period before this, and
I only made out two other Mercedes cars pass by, and they looked quite different than the one Hutch drove.” Fish tapped the keyboard and sure enough a few seconds later they all saw a large Mercedes drive rather slowly down Newberry Street past the bank. “Given the time this car is cruising past Slick’s, which was our meet-up spot for the reunion activities, and given its appearance, I believe this to be Hutch’s car. We could confirm that by getting more detail on the license plate and verifying it with Hutch’s wife.”

  “Where is Hutch’s car now?” Al asked.

  Pruitt replied, “According to Mrs. Hutchinson, her son drove it back to Cambridge and it’s sitting in her garage. She said it hasn’t been used since this night.”

  “Now watch carefully in this area over here,” Fish said as he let the footage continue. They all huddled around the laptop and watched as the car moved down Newberry Street and disappeared out of the camera’s purview. Half a minute later, the car came back up Newberry Street from the opposite direction toward the camera, but again it disappeared out of the camera’s purview. Fish froze the action again and said, “I think that was Hutch looking for a parking spot.” The time stamp was now 4:57 p.m. “Keep paying attention to this area.” He let the footage roll again for a couple of minutes but outside of a few more cars rolling up and down the street, no one spotted anything of consequence.

  “Were we supposed to see something significant on that last segment?” Ducky asked.

  “I’ll play it again,” said Fish. “Keep focused right here, at the very edge of what the lens is able to capture. I was using a magnifying glass when I noticed it.”

  Al chuckled and said, “Old school.”

  Fish let it roll twice more before Harry said, “There, right at the very edge. Someone just came into the picture.” Fish froze the footage and Harry put his finger on the screen.

  “Oh yeah,” said Ducky.

  Al asked, “Is that Hutch?”

  “Keep watching,” Fish instructed. The figure took a couple of additional steps in the direction away from the camera, and stopped.

  “What’s he doing?” Al asked.

  “He’s just standing there,” said Ducky.

  “Standing where?” Harry questioned. “Where is this building he’s in front of?”

  “Hold that thought,” said Fish. “Keep watching.”

  They all made a collective move toward the screen as Fish let the footage continue.

  Suddenly, the figure did an about-face and was gone a second later, back out of the camera’s purview. “Did you see it?” Fish asked as he stopped the footage.

  “See what?” Al groaned. “All we saw was a guy on the sidewalk and then he was gone. What the hell does that prove?”

  “I guess you didn’t see it,” said Fish. “I’ll play it back again.”

  “Wait,” said Harry. “Don’t do anything for a second. What’s the time stamp on the footage right now, at the spot where the guy disappeared out of the picture?”

  Fish looked at him oddly. “Harry, the time stamp is right on—”

  “Read it, Fish. For the benefit of everyone here—read the time stamp out loud.”

  “5:04, Harry. The time stamp reads 5:04 p.m.”

  “And what time did that last call come into Hutch’s phone?”

  “5:02,” Pruitt replied, knowing exactly where he was going.

  “And do you think that person in the surveillance footage could have been on a cell phone, talking to someone who’d called him two minutes earlier?”

  “Shit, Harry, that’s what I wanted you all to see,” Fish shot back. “When the figure turns back and heads back the other way—in the direction that we last saw the Mercedes drive a few minutes earlier—if you observe closely, it looks like he has his hand up near his face—like he’s on a damned cell phone. Watch.” Fish replayed the last few minutes. “There, did you see it when he turned?”

  It was Pruitt who said, “ADA Brimton, if closer examination of this footage reveals that the car we saw belonged to Mister Hutchinson, and that the person we just observed was him talking on his cell phone, we might have probable cause to reconsider an investigation on the grounds that the topic of that phone call may have caused him to have that heart attack. Wouldn’t we at least want to talk to whoever was on the other end of that call?”

  Monica considered the statement carefully. “What about the hack?” she asked.

  “If the source of what we just saw stays in this room, and if this surveillance footage is still on the original server...” Pruitt looked at Fish now, but he was stone cold silent. “... then based upon my own findings and conversation with Mrs. Hutchinson as part of my ongoing curiosity about Mister Hutchinson’s death, I could make a phone call and ask the bank to voluntarily supply me with a copy of this footage.”

  “You’d be willing to take that chance?” Monica asked. “It could be real trouble for you.”

  “It could be real trouble for both of us just being here,” Pruitt said back.

  Pointing at Pruitt’s carry bag, “What about that laptop?” Monica asked. “It still officially belongs to the bank where Hutch worked, and we don’t have a search warrant for that.”

  “What laptop?” Pruitt asked. “Did anyone here see me take a laptop out of that bag?”

  Harry just smiled and gave Denise a look as he whispered something in her ear.

  “Detective Pruitt, weren’t you and Monica going to check out the location you just saw in the surveillance footage where the subject turned around?” Denise asked loudly, hoping they’d take the hint. “Do you think that might be important?”

  They got the hint, all right, and the brothers waited while all three women left the room. When they were gone Harry said, “Hey Ducky, did you ever get hold of the Zen Master after we met at Quattro Fratelli on Saturday?”

  “I did,” Ducky replied. “I figured I’d get to that when the time was right.”

  “When do you think that would be?”

  “Well, if you’re thinking about busting into that laptop Pruitt never brought and we didn’t see, I’d guess that would be now.”

  * * * * *

  It had taken a while to regain the trail. He’d lost them in a traffic jam on the Garden State Parkway on Saturday morning and it was only by chance that he’d spotted the Curlanders again later that day just as they were pulling into their cul-de-sac. Monitoring Mister Curlander by watching the house was proving to be ever more difficult as the neighbors were becoming increasingly conscious of him even though he varied his observation points. There were only so many spots from which he could observe, and he’d gotten his share of looks from residents as they’d noticed him. When a local police car passed him twice on Saturday afternoon, that was his cue to come up with another surveillance plan. Luckily, finding a competent private investigator to assist with the surveillance of Mister Curlander and his lovely wife was not difficult to accomplish, although quite expensive. Still, the man had been quite proficient, able to follow Mister Curlander all the way to that run-down motel in Massachusetts without being detected. Now, five thousand dollars in cash plus expenses later, he’d caught up with the evasive Mister Curlander, and he was quite positive that this location, the scene of the Hutchinson encounter, was not a coincidental gathering place.

  He watched carefully now, fully aware that the original plan of making Mister Curlander’s impending death be due to seemingly natural causes as they had done with Mister Hutchinson, was now in jeopardy. It had taken weeks for them to become aware of a situation and a location where Mister Hutchinson would be alone and where they could carry out their attack, and they had been able to assemble the assassination team and carry out the plan perfectly due to his lack of awareness of their presence. He chuckled to himself, thinking in retrospect how much Mister Hutchinson’s assassination was similar to that of President Kennedy more than four decades earlier, but it was almost exactly the same in that they, the assassins
, were aware of the place, time, and route beforehand and had ample time to prepare the operation. It seemed unlikely that such an opportunity would present itself for Mister Curlander, however. He and his wife were constant companions, and while the two of them dying together would not be a problem as far as the mission was concerned, their deaths still had to appear to be natural or accidental in order that there not be any investigation that could possibly lead back to the reason why Mister Curlander had to die, which was his knowledge of the accounts.

  At the time of Mister Hutchinson’s assassination, they were fairly convinced that the only two people at First International who were aware of the accounts were Misters Hutchinson and Phillips, both of whose assassinations had been relatively easy to accomplish using the same radio frequency technology they’d stolen from the Russians years ago, but only recently had weapons built by some rogue black market manufacturers in India. If there was enough money in it, those people could build anything. Wishing that he could observe what was happening inside this establishment called Slick’s, he had a strong suspicion that far more than two people were now aware of the accounts, or they would be soon. Entering the establishment was out of the question, however, for to enter a place of intoxicants was haraam, unlawful according to his interpretation of the Quran and an abomination of Satin’s doing. Perhaps he should have kept his private investigator employed a little longer, but even that carried its risks.

  No, he would have to find out who these other people were, and then he would have to contact the Mushir immediately. If those accounts could not be closed and reestablished somewhere else—which was highly unlikely seeing as it had taken years to establish the network of shell firms and secret accounts necessary to avoid scrutiny—then he was fairly sure of what the Mushir would have to say. Already the Mushir was not happy. While the failed attempt to obtain Mister Hutchinson’s laptop and cell phone was not his doing, the fact that Mister Curlander had survived his forced crash the previous Wednesday was entirely his doing. When the Mushir became aware of this newest obstacle, he was quite certain of what his new orders would be, which was that they would all have to die.