“I’d like you to run a check on Pio’s background, his father’s, too, see if they’re connected, and if so, to whom.”
Harry was taking notes now. “What’s his father’s name?”
“I don’t know. Try the phone book.”
“I’ll see that it’s run down.”
“Harry, if Pellegrino isn’t running this thing, then he’s connected to whoever is, so don’t start walking all over this with your big FBI feet, okay? Don’t bring him in for questioning, and if you have him watched, for God’s sake don’t park an FBI van outside his door. Be subtle, Harry.”
“We’re always subtle,” Harry replied.
“Like the green SUV with the two agents inside that was parked at the Santa Maria church? Like the female agent you had following me when I was shopping for shoes? Please.”
“I’ll take special steps,” Harry said through clenched teeth.
“What’s Grant Early working on, Harry?”
“That’s not relevant.”
“So what happened to the two-way information highway, Harry?”
“It’s not relevant.”
“I should have known you’d do this. I spill everything I’ve got, saving you many man-hours of legwork, and you stonewall me.”
“Holly, I mean it, Grant’s case is not relevant to your investigation; it’s a whole separate thing.”
Holly sighed. “Harry, if I find out it isn’t, I’m going to come over to your house and shoot you in your sleep.”
“It’s a federal crime to threaten an FBI agent, Holly.”
“So, arrest me.”
Harry smirked at her. “Not yet.”
“Not while I’m doing your work for you, huh?”
“You’re not doing my work for me; this stuff is just frosting on the cake.”
“I want to hear about the Pellegrinos by lunchtime tomorrow,” Holly said, sliding her card across the table. “My cellphone number is on the card.”
Harry pocketed the card. “I’ll be in touch,” he said, getting up and tossing a five-dollar bill onto the table.
“The drink’s on me, Harry,” Holly said.
“Gee, thanks,” Harry replied, picking up the note. “Talk to you tomorrow.” He walked away.
Holly went back to her dinner, now cold. “You’d bloody well better talk to me tomorrow,” she said aloud to herself.
33
Holly got an early start for home the following morning. Once she was on I-95, she called Hurd Wallace.
“Good morning.”
“Morning, Holly.”
“Hurd, I’d like you to get ahold of our divers and do a search of the waters under and around the North Bridge.”
“What are we looking for?”
“A Heckler and Koch forty-caliber pistol with a silencer.”
“The weapon used on Carlos?”
“I think so. He owned such a gun, and it’s missing.”
“Okay.”
“Which side of the road was the van parked on?”
“The south side.”
“Then search the south side of the bridge first, to a distance that you could throw a semiautomatic pistol. Start at the center of the river and work outward.”
“I’m on it. When will you be back?”
“I’m on the way now; see you later this morning.”
“Right.” Hurd hung up.
Holly continued up I-95. An hour later, her phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hi, it’s Harry.”
“Good morning.”
“We’ve run a check on Pio and his old man, whose name is Ignacio.”
“Isn’t Ignacio a Spanish name?”
“Who knows? Anyway, they’ve both got a clean sheet, federal and state.”
“That doesn’t add up,” Holly said. “How far back did you go?”
“When they’ve got a clean sheet, it’s from childhood.”
“Harry, do a background check on both of them; this needs more than just a records check. Find out how long they’ve been in business, how long they’ve lived where they live, all that stuff.”
“This is looking like a dead end to me, Holly.”
“I don’t think it is, Harry. I mean, I think the trail is meant to end with Pellegrino, if somebody investigates, but I don’t think that’s where the trail ends.”
“All right, I’ll put a couple of men on it.”
“Thanks. My people are on the search for the forty-caliber. I’ll call you if they find something.”
“See you later.”
Holly had lunch at her desk and worked on administrative matters for most of the afternoon. A little after four, Hurd Wallace walked into her office, bearing two plastic-wrapped packages. He held them up for her to see.
“You found the forty-caliber.”
“With the silencer attached. You pegged where it would be. And there’s this,” Hurd said, setting the larger of the two packages on her desk.
“What is it?”
“Open it.”
Holly put on latex gloves, then unwrapped the plastic cover. Inside was a leather rifle case. Handling it carefully, she unzipped the sodden case, revealing a Winchester.22 rifle with a scope attached. In another zippered pocket was an eight-inch-long silencer. “Bingo,” she said. “Dust them, then collect a specimen bullet and a shell casing from both of them. When you’re finished with them, send a patrolman down to the Miami FBI office with them; deliver to Harry Crisp personally. Also, run ownership checks on both weapons. I know the pistol belonged to Carlos Alvarez; it’ll be interesting to see if we can trace an owner for the rifle.”
“Will do,” Hurd said. He took the weapons away.
Holly called Harry Crisp.
“Hello?”
“Harry, I’ve had a fruitful day. What about you?”
“Did you find the pistol?”
“You first.”
“Okay, neither of the Pellegrinos existed six years ago. I’m going to have them picked up and printed.”
“Harry, don’t do that. Have them photographed and see if you can get a match from your records. You have an optical matching system in Washington, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess that’s a better idea. Now what have you got?”
“A forty-caliber Heckler and Koch and silencer and a twenty-two Winchester rifle with a scope and a silencer.”
“Great.”
“They’ll be messengered down to you tonight.”
“Don’t do that, just overnight them directly to Washington.” He gave her the address and a case number. “I’ll send the bullet and shell casings we have, and they’ll have everything tomorrow morning. We should have the report by the close of business tomorrow.”
“That’s good.”
“Question: who was the connection between Carlos Alvarez and Pio Pellegrino?”
“Oh, I forgot to give you that. I think it was a guy named Trini Rodriguez; you should run a check on him, too. He was seen in the restaurant on one occasion, and he was one of a group of guys, including Carlos, who met weekly at the firing range.”
“You think the range is dirty?”
“No, the owner is ex-army, and he was very helpful. He’s straight.”
“Okay, if you say so. My check on Carlos turned up a clean sheet, too,” Holly said.
“Yeah, he was straight, until he got involved in this.”
“What turned him, money?”
“Yeah, and a lot of it. He bought his girl an expensive diamond ring, for one thing. I think he thought he’d do these jobs, then get out clean. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have used his own pistol in one of the murders. He thought nobody could ever connect him to any of his victims, and he was probably right, except he didn’t count on getting blown away by the people who hired him.”
“They never do, do they?” Harry said.
“Get back to me, Harry.” She hung up as Hurd walked into her office.
“The rifle had no prints on it,” he said. “I guess they were washed away by being underwater for a few days. But we picked up a pretty good thumbprint on the magazine of the pistol, and it isn’t Carlos’s print. I think the only reason we got it was because the magazine had some oil on it. We’re running it now.”