If Angels Fall by Rick Mofina Read Free Book Online Page B

the time.
    She decided at his funeral to become a police officer.
    “I knew Don. He was a good cop,” Rust said.
    “From vice,” Ditmire said. “Then you don’t know the Donner file?”
    “I haven’t read it yet, I just—“
    Sydowski moved toe-to-toe with Ditmire. “What do you know about anything,
Special Agent Ditmire, three years out of Club Fed?”
    Ditmire stood his ground with Sydowski.
    “I know the press is outside, probably chanting your name.”
    Sydowski inventoried Ditmire top to bottom. “Picking up where you
left off, huh, voychik?”
    “Fuck him, Walter,” Rust said. “Lonnie, don’t irritate the
inspector. I told you he killed a man for doing that.”
    Killed a man. Turgeon looked at Sydowski. Mikelson and Tilly
chuckled. Rust sent a stream of brown tobacco juice down the garbage disposal.
“Now that we can feel the love here, let’s get humpin’:”
    Mikelson had arranged through Pacific Bell to run a tap on the
Beckers’ phone to immediately give them the address of any in-coming calls.
Mikelson’s crew would also record all conversations. A phone tap was also set
up at Nathan Becker’s Nor-Tec office in Mountain View where an FBI agent waited
to answer any calls. And Angela Donner, Tanita Marie’s mother, allowed police
to put a tap on her phone in Balboa, in case she received any suspicious calls.
    The security cameras on the BART system did not keep tapes, so
detectives were interviewing BART station workers and BART Police from every
stop from the Coliseum to Balboa. They had dozens of witness statements from
passengers to go through. The FBI was running down everybody at Nor-Tec, along
with family friends, acquaintances, checking histories, criminal records. They
had searched the house and yard three times using canine units. Alerts with
Danny’s picture went to Bay Area airports, bus and train depots, cab companies,
and police departments. U.S. Postal inspectors monitored the Beckers’ mail and
boxes in key areas. Bay Area courier services were alerted. Garbage pickup in
Balboa and Jordan Park was halted. Summaries of abductions around the Bay and
across America over the last year were ordered.
    After several separate interviews with Maggie and Nathan, they were
convinced Danny had been taken by a stranger.
    “Do you think Donner and Becker are linked?” Turgeon asked.
    “It’s too soon to think anything,” Sydowski said.
    “If nothing comes tonight,” Tilly said, “the Beckers will make a
plea for Danny in a news conference tomorrow. The mayor’s office is considering
a reward. So is Nathan’s company. We’ll give the TV people some recent
home-video footage of Danny. It may kick something out for us.
    The sketch artist arrived. Mikelson and Sydowski took him to the den
where Nathan was waiting. Sydowski sat at the edge of Nathan’s oak desk, next
to a small, gold-framed picture of Danny on his mother’s lap. Both were laughing.
Sydowski set it aside gently, then checked his watch. For more than an hour
Nathan Becker struggled for the sketch artist, trying to describe the face of
the man who kidnapped his son. So far, it had been fruitless. Nathan was
growing angry.
    “Try to relax, Mr. Becker,” Mikelson said.
    So many faces. They flowed together. Nathan remembered few details
other than the beard. The BART people hadn’t seen the man as clearly as Nathan
had. The kidnapper likely knew about BART’s security cameras and avoided them,
Sydowski reasoned. He suspected that he was a stalker who had waited for his
golden opportunity But why Danny Becker? From Nathan Becker’s account, everyone
concluded that his glimpse of his son’s kidnapping had lasted half a second. It
was a needle in a haystack. Nathan’s frustration and anguish increased.
    The phone in the study rang.
    “Okay, Mr. Becker, let’s go.”
    They rushed to the living room. Additional phone lines had been
installed. Two were new numbers, two were extensions. Pacific Bell would have
the