“Even if he shits all over you?”
I thought about Grisnik’s question, though I knew the answer. “Yeah, even if he shits all over me.”
Grisnik turned north. We were skirting around Marcellus’s block. The streets were quiet.
“I know why you pulled that scam with the fugitive warrant,” Grisnik said.
I didn’t answer. If he knew, he’d tell me. I’d learn more by letting him.
“You figure someone in my department was taking money from Marcellus. Could have been me. Could have been those two officers. Could have been the whole goddamn department. But you didn’t care who it was so long as word got back to Marcellus. That way he’d be ready for you when you showed up with that phony warrant. That’s why you wanted our cops to back you up. The more cops knew about the warrant, the more likely someone would tell Marcellus.”
We were doing the dance, giving a little to get a little, hoping to get a lot more. There was no reason not to play.
“I put a camera in the ceiling fan in the front room.”
“So you got the killer on tape?”
“Lights went out just before the shooting started.”
“That’s real handy. Makes you wonder if the killer knew about the camera.”
“That it does.”
“Anyone outside of your squad know about the camera?” Grisnik asked.
“Hard to say.”
“Looks like you and me might have the same problem.”
“And I didn’t think we had anything in common.”
He parked the car at the next corner.
“There it is,” he said. “That’s the corner where Oleta Phillips’s son got shot last week. Marcellus and Javy Ordonez have been fighting over that corner a long time.”
“We’re pretty certain Javy is responsible; he had one of his guys, Luis Alvarez, do it.”
“How certain?” Grisnik asked.
“Certain enough that I can’t tell you how certain without compromising my people. Marcellus sent the Winston brothers to balance the books. Alvarez is in the ICU at Providence. If he makes it, you can fight with the Justice Department over who gets him first.”
“Why are you telling me this when Troy Clark won’t give me the time of day?”
“I’m not Troy. The cash I found under the tree in Marcellus’s backyard-you think that’s the money Marcellus gave Oleta?”
“Seems likely,” Grisnik said. “Especially now that Oleta has disappeared.”
“Where does that leave you?”
“Leaves me with a missing mother and her murdered son. I think both of those cases are related to Marcellus and his people getting killed. If Javy ordered the hit, the murders could be the next round in a gang war. Maybe Oleta saw something she shouldn’t have seen. She could have run off or maybe we’ll find her body dumped out in the woods. Make my job a lot easier if the FBI would share some information with me, but they won’t because they don’t trust us.”
Grisnik put the car in drive, continuing his lazy tour. I thought about what he’d said, weighing my options.
“What do you want from me?”
“Help. If you suspect somebody in my department of being on Marcellus’s payroll, I want their names.”
I shook my head. “We weren’t investigating your department. We didn’t have any names.”
“You’ve got surveillance tapes. Let me see them. I may recognize someone.”
“Even if I wanted to, you forget that I’m on the disabled list.”
“You must have at least one friend left at the Bureau.”
“Like you said, they’ve forgotten my name.”
Grisnik squared around. “You’ve been there too long not to have someone who will talk to you.”
I thought of Ammara Iverson. She had said no the first time. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t change her mind.
“There may be one person.”
“Give it a try. And, remember, I may be able to help you.”
“How could you help me?”
“I don’t know why you’re touring our many fine attractions this morning, but I don’t think you’re looking to buy a new house. So I’d say you’re working the case on your own. As a general rule, that’s a bad idea. One of my detectives did that, I’d fire his ass.”
“But I’m not one of your detectives.”
“Which is a good thing for me. This gate can swing both ways, Jack. If I’m right about the death of Tony Phillips and the disappearance of his mother, I’m likely to learn things that will be helpful to you. Find out what you can, share it with me, and I’ll give you what I come up with.”
I looked away. I had defended Troy out of loyalty to him and the Bureau. That was more than the by-product of my training. It was the way I saw the world. I had never cheated on Joy even when our marriage existed in name only. I had taken a vow. She had released me from it when she left and filed for divorce. Troy was my colleague, the Bureau was my life. I wasn’t ready to turn my back on them, even if they could only see me over their shoulders. I turned toward Grisnik.
“I told you about Luis Alvarez. That’s the best I can do.”
Grisnik pulled to the curb again, this time in the middle of the block down the street from Marcellus’s house.
“Why? Because those people are your friends? Because the FBI is your mother, father, wife, and mistress who’d never treat you wrong so you can’t treat them wrong? I’m not asking you to do anything you’re not already doing.”
“What do you mean?”
“They cut you loose. Maybe because you’ve got the shakes. Maybe because you’re unstable. Or maybe because they blame you for those people getting killed. Hell, I don’t know. But I know this. You’re already acting like a free agent, working the case on your own, telling me about Luis Alvarez. What do you think the FBI is going to do if they find out what you’re doing? Give you a fucking medal and your job back? Give me a break.”
“I’ve got my reasons for being here.”
Grisnik let out a sigh. “I’m sure you do. Why don’t you tell them?” he said, pointing to a dark sedan that rounded the corner in the next block. A man and woman got out and walked up to the first house on the corner. Even at this distance, I recognized two members of my squad, Jim Day and Lani Heywood.
“Go on,” Grisnik said. “Get out of my car. Tell your friends that you’re snooping around on your day off and that you’ll let them know if you find out anything important.”
Kate’s words reverberated in my head: work the people. I had to work myself first. I had told myself that I wanted to avoid seeing the people on my squad because I didn’t want to put them in a difficult situation. That was only partly true. The rest of the truth gave me reason to shake. I didn’t want them to know what I was doing because I didn’t trust them.
“Maybe later. Let’s get out of here.”
Chapter Sixteen
My father was a salesman who preached that life was all about opening doors. The ones you could open yourself were the easiest, he said. All it took was guts. The hard ones were the ones someone else had to open for you because people won’t let you in if they don’t trust you. It didn’t matter what his product line was-plumbing supplies, corrugated boxes, or anything else he could buy right and sell smart-he always told me that he was selling the same thing. Trust.
That’s all I had to offer to Ammara Iverson. Troy Clark had told her not to trust me. That didn’t mean she didn’t, only that she was following orders by refusing to talk with me about the investigation. I had to give her a reason to disobey and open her door. I called her cell phone.
“Yes,” she said.
Her voice was quiet but hurried. I didn’t have to ask to know that I’d caught her at a bad time.
“It’s Jack. Call me on my cell when you can talk privately. It’s important.”
I had no place to go and nothing to do when I got there so I drove around, waiting for Ammara to call. I cruised south on Seventh Street, east on Central, winding my way across a bridge that took me back in to Kansas City, Missouri, past Kemper Arena, a modernistic white elephant relegated to tractor pulls after the Sprint Arena opened on the south edge of downtown.