that
crime scene?”
“That’s kind of a moot point isn’t it?” I
shook my head as I asked the question.
“No. No it’s not,” he replied.
“But you said I was banned from the
investigation.”
“Officially you are.”
“Aye.” My wife cocked her head to the side
and raised an eyebrow. “What are you saying?”
“What I’m sayin’ is that if I’m gonna take a
chance on losin’ my badge, I need to know it’s gonna get us
somewhere.”
I never got a chance to answer my friend’s
question.
CHAPTER 4:
The muffled electronic wail of a pager began
sounding from somewhere across the table. By the time it had
completed its second demand for attention, it was joined by the
steadily rising trill of a cell phone vying for the same.
“Jeeeez…” Ben complained aloud as he pulled
the beeper from his belt and fumbled with it until he managed to
switch it off and then peered at the display while sending his
other hand to rustle through his coat pocket. “It’s Albright,” he
told us as he laid the pager on the table and withdrew the
screaming phone.
Before he could thumb the button on the
second device to answer the call, the beeper began pulsing once
more, prompting him to clumsily stab at it again.
“Yeah, Storm, hold on…” he barked into the
phone while struggling to mute the pager.
The device was swallowed by his large hand,
and his searching fingers were no match for its relatively
diminutive size. Felicity finally reached out, snatched the
noisemaker from his palm, and pressed the appropriate button. He
quickly mouthed the word “Thanks” in her direction before turning
his attention to the voice at the other end of the cell phone.
“Uh-huh, yeah, I’m here,” he said as he sent
his free hand on another fishing expedition, withdrawing it from
his pocket a moment later and laying his notepad on the table.
“Yeah… Yeah…”
My friend held his pen poised over the paper
as his eyes closed, and his face noticeably slackened. He dropped
the pen and sighed heavily.
“Yeah, okay. You’re sure? Uh-huh. Yeah,
great… No, I’ll take care of that. Jeez, I don’t fuckin’ need this…
Yeah, I know. Okay. Yeah.” He picked up the pen, and his hand began
moving as he scratched out a jumble of letters that were legible
only to him. “Can ya’ spell that? Yeah…Yeah…Uh-huh…t-i-g-k-e-i-t.
Yeah. Two S’s? Okay…Got it.
“Okay, yeah. You sendin’ someone?” He shook
his head as he spoke into the phone. “Yeah. Yeah. No problem. He’s
with me now. We’ll be there in about ten. Yeah. Later.”
He pulled the device away from his ear and
immediately began stabbing at buttons in an ordered fashion.
“What’s going on?” Felicity asked.
“Just a sec,” he told her as he tucked the
phone against the side of his head once again. “Yeah, Osthoff, it’s
Storm… Yeah, tell me about it. Listen, there’s a file folder in my
desk, middle drawer. Yeah…Yeah…Got it? Good. So there’s a list in
there. Yeah. So, I need you to call Ackman and feed him the
numbers. Yeah, yeah… It’s not good. No, he’s with me. Yeah, I know.
No, he’s on scene so call his cell. You got the number? Great.
Thanks. Yeah, I’ll tell him. Bye.”
The cell phone beeped as he pressed a button
to end the call and then stared across the table at us with an
eyebrow arched and a pained frown deepening the fatigue lines in
his face.
“What?” I finally asked.
“I’m thinkin’” was his reply.
“Uh-huh,” I returned. “Now tell me something
that isn’t obvious.”
“Chill, Row.” He reached up and rubbed his
forehead. “This ain’t good.”
“What is it, Ben?” Felicity asked, her voice
carrying far more concern than had mine.
“Well, that was Ackman back at the scene.
Albright had him call. Looks like she wants you there after
all.”
“Why the change of heart?”
“Seems Porter left you something.”
“What?”
“A note. But they aren’t sure quite