Chapter Twenty-Three: Danny
As I hit the sidewalk in front of the club, I glanced up at the windows of Hannah’s apartment. A dim light shone through the window shade. Four thirty in the morning and she was awake. Part of me wanted to go back inside and up those stairs. The other part said I had work to do and couldn’t allow distractions.
Work had always won out when in conflict with personal. Shit, if I were honest, I had no real personal, at least none I hadn’t grown up with. This level of personal, of truly caring for someone who wasn’t a Dutton, was a new thing for me. I began to wonder how any cop balanced work with a happy, normal life. Maybe they didn’t. Maybe that was why so many cops were divorced.
I waited until I was back in my stifling hellhole to make the call. The really hot temps had finally broken, but my apartment hadn’t gotten the weather report. It must have been a thousand degrees in there. I grabbed a bottle of tepid water out of the fridge and drank half of it before I sat on the ratty couch and dialed the number, the one that would signal the go.
“Domino’s Pizza,” the familiar voice said. “May I take your order?”
“Armored car hit,” I said. “Tomorrow, one o’clock.”
The line was silent for a second. “Money? Bearer bonds?”
“No, that’s the odd part. Our friend is branching out and breaking into jewel heists.” We never used Richie Silvestri’s name on cellphones. He was always “our friend”.
“Lots of value there. Could be hard to fence though. Our friend is one of the few criminal elements in the city without ties to import-export.”
“Maybe this is his way in. He likes his fingers in all sorts of pots. Great diversifier.”
“Still, though, he doesn’t have those contacts yet.”
“I got the vibe he was the logistics and the distribution was someone else’s problem. He is probably in on the action for a hefty cut, to get his name out there and cash in later. He’s a young guy. Plenty of time to get in the game.”
“So, what’s the target?”
“The Field Museum’s been showcasing unique diamonds and jewelry, and part of the collection is on loan. The exhibit ended last weekend. All of the local items are being returned to their owners.”
“Are we lucky enough to have that list?”
“No. But I expect you can get it from the museum.”
“Have any idea how many homes are involved, what neighborhoods?”
“No, though I’m pretty sure none of them are mine.”
My commander chuckled. “I’ll get the list.” I heard the click of a lighter over the line then a heavy breath as he exhaled. “Tell me you have the company name.”
“Our friend is being stingy with the actual details until it’s time to get into the van, but I have a guess.”
I filled my commander in on how I’d followed our friend’s sister to Armor Security. I only had to listen to several minutes about letting pussy distract me from my assignment, and I took it with grace. I knew I’d fucked up, but I also knew my fuck-up had led to some pretty good intel.
“I’ll get eyes on them as of right now,” he said. There was a pause, and I waited, knowing what was coming. “This girl part of it?”
“If you want to know if he used her, then yes. If you want to know if she was doing something illegal, then I don’t know the answer to that. A messenger doesn’t always know the message, but she looked pretty spooked. I think, though, I can guarantee she’s not directly involved and will play no other parts in the heist.”
“Are you requesting immunity for her?”
I sighed. “Not exactly. Not yet. Fuck, I don’t know. I’m just bringing it up for discussion.” I didn’t know the extent of Hannah’s involvement. Not really. “I guess I’m saying if she’s an innocent pawn being coerced, then yes.”
“There are a lot of ifs in your thought process.”
“WE don’t really discuss our friend’s business dealings.”
“I imagine not,” he murmured.
“But if things work in our favor, I might be able to convince her to testify.”
“How much do you think she knows?”
Jesus. How much did Hannah know?
Good question. I had no fucking idea. I suspected she knew more than Richie thought she did, but probably not enough to bring him down. If, however, we brought him down, any details Hannah had would just nail that fucking coffin shut.
“I can’t answer that for sure,” I said, “but I suspect as much as any one person knows with the exception of our friend’s right hand man.”
“Is he part of this plan?”
“Yes, because—”
I snapped my mouth shut. My blood started to boil. Here was that personal bullshit rising up. Damn. I drank the rest of the water in gulps.
“Because why?”
“I’m pretty sure our friend is offering up his little sister as incentive to his right hand, probably on a fucking silver platter.”
“She happy about that?”
“Of course not.”
“Should I guess how you feel about it?”
“Please don’t.”
“This is dangerous territory, you know that. You’ve seen it happen before. Cop falls for girl. Girl’s bad. Cop takes a fall—and that’s the lucky outcome. Sometimes he falls so hard he doesn’t get back up. My advice—don’t go there. It’s a been-there-done-that scenario you can’t win.”
“I’m already wearing the T-shirt, boss,” I muttered.
“Then you need to rip that fucker off,” he said forcefully. “I’ll have teams in place tomorrow. How many players involved in this?”
“Five including me.”
“Hopefully there won’t be more than a couple of drop-off locations and I can stack the deck in our favor at each scene. Our eyes on the armored car will be in contact with all teams in the event they detour. Think there’s a chance of that?”
I thought about it, trying to think like Richie. I thought he’d want as few witnesses as possible, as few potential problems as possible. He wanted this to be a slam-dunk. He’d want his first foray into the world of luxury commodities to be a rousing success. Richie Silvestri, the man who can get things done.
“I don’t think he’ll detour. I think the heist will be arranged for a neighborhood, possibly at a community gate or a private one.”
“I agree. Have any questions for me?”
“No, sir.”
“Then enjoy your pizza and thanks for calling Dominos.”
The line went dead. I had one more call to make before calling it a day, and Pops knew immediately why I was calling.
“Is the shit about to hit the fan?” he asked.
“Yeah, Pops. Just wanted to let you know because in a few minutes, this phone will be permanently dead.”
My dad hesitated for a minute. He always got quiet right before I made a bust. I couldn’t really imagine what went through his head, and he never told me, but my guess was his thoughts were never all that good.
“When we talk next, it will be over Sunday dinner,” he said, trying, and failing, to sound cheerful. “You’ve got this, Danny. Just be careful.”
“Always, Pops.”
“Night, kid. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
He clicked off first. I always let him do that.
I pulled the SIM card from the phone, tore it in half, and flushed it down the toilet. I stomped on the phone with my boot and tossed the pieces in the trash.
Then I sat down and tried to think of everything that could possibly go wrong tomorrow.
This was always the loneliest moment in any assignment.
It was going to be a very long night.