Sutter stepped in. “What about the Klan surveillance? That was all bullshit, wasn’t it?”
Jimmy nodded. “It was designed to buy time for Wells to clear up some personal business so he could leave the area.”
“What personal business?” asked Tasker.
“Dunno.”
Sutter slid one shoulder out of his shirt.
Jimmy kept an even voice. “You can come down here and give me a blowjob, but I really don’t know. Now, have I earned that camera?”
“Did Bolini know he bombed the cruise ship?”
“Yeah. After. Wells said he wouldn’t do it again.”
Tasker was speechless. Too bad this moron wasn’t the responsible party.
Jimmy said again, “Do I get the camera?”
“One more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“We need you to call Bolini and set up a breakfast meeting.”
“Where?”
Tasker said, “Denny’s over off Thirty-sixth.”
Jimmy thought about it, then nodded.
Tasker looked at him. “And after I meet with him, you’ll get the camera to see the photos erased. I don’t want him warned.”
Jimmy said, “That’s bullshit. I want that camera or there’s no deal.”
Tasker looked at Camy. “All right, leave his ass locked up till morning.”
Jimmy said, “Shit, get me a phone.”
Camy added, “I’ll keep an eye on him tonight.” She winked at Jimmy, who brightened slightly.
Tasker saw the look Sutter gave the chained FBI man and thought it was best to get him out of there fast. Besides, if Tasker didn’t get off his feet and give his aching head, back, shoulder and hip a rest, he might faint.
Tasker watched Sal Bolini park his Bureau-issued Ford and walk into the Denny’s without a glance around the lot. A minute later, Tasker strolled in the front door and then right to Bolini’s table just as the waitress brought his coffee.
Bolini said, “What’re you doing here?”
“Filling in for Lail.”
Bolini took a second and then said, “Vanilla Ice spill his guts?”
Tasker just smiled. “He had reason to.”
“You didn’t hurt the little shit, did you?”
“I didn’t think you’d care about things like that.”
Bolini shrugged. “You got me all wrong. In fact, all I care about is the public good. Did you hurt Lail?”
“Not physically.” Tasker remembered the look on Camy’s face as they left her house and added, “He was all right when I last saw him.”
Bolini took a sip of his coffee and waved away the waitress when she wandered over. He looked at Tasker silently.
Finally, Tasker asked, “Why?”
“You wouldn’t understand. Cops never do.”
“Try me.”
“He was a good source. He knew how to keep his mouth shut.”
“But he bombed a ship. He killed a guy.”
“What? The baggage handler? He wasn’t even an American.”
Tasker stared at him with his mouth open.
“That’s what I’m saying. If it was up to cops, you guys would just arrest him without thinking of all the good he could do. He saved a lot of lives. He kept Turkey Point from getting blown up by Al-Soud and Jourdi.”
Tasker shook his head in frustration. “But they couldn’t have done it without Wells. He tricked them. The device Al-Soud described to me wouldn’t have worked.”
“Then they would’ve picked another target. The point is we stopped them.”
“I thought the point was to enforce the law.”
“I have enforced a lot more than you.” Bolini’s voice became sharper.
“Why’d he do the cruise ship?”
“I have no idea. We had a gentleman’s agreement not to discuss it.”
Tasker felt like drawing his Beretta and sticking it in the FBI agent’s face to bring him back to reality.
Bolini said, “If I had been there the day you morons arrested him, I could’ve put a stop to it right then. Thank God you’re persistent.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I saw you were trying to help him after you realized your mistake. Who do you think sent you that little intel photo?”
“You were in it from the beginning.” Tasker felt like a little kid.
“I’m tellin’ you, Tasker, he’s a great source. Look at me. He put me on top. You back off and we can work something out. Make you a star over there at FDLE.”
Tasker balled his fist but took a deep breath instead of throwing the punch.
“What about his next little act?”
“What next act?”
“Whatever he has planned for this afternoon. He told his wife to steer clear of downtown.”
“That whore. She’s not smart enough to know a warning if it bit her on that luscious ass of hers.”
“Can you contact him?”
“Not unless he calls me. I’m not worried.”
“Why not?”
“He’s on your dime now.”
Sal Bolini was a little shaken by his breakfast meeting with the serious state cop. He’d known about the cruise ship and let it slide. He had no idea why Wells had done it but knew the guy had a screw loose. He loved to see the shit stirred. It was obvious, the way he wanted to be at arrests as the undercover when he didn’t have to be. He once told Bolini how the only excitement he felt was in watching people run scared. And it seemed to have gotten worse in the past two years. Every time they had an arrest or search warrant, Wells had to be there. Still, Bolini had no idea he had anything else planned. He’d told the FBI agent he had to clear up some family matters. Bolini figured it was with that kooky wife of his, or some money issues. Not some kind of stunt to scare people.
Bolini dug in his inside suit pocket to find his secret address book. He had Wells’ pager, which only he was allowed to call. After all, the FBI had paid for it. He dialed the Miami number.
Five minutes later, Bolini’s cell phone rang. He said, “Talk to me, Daniel.”
“Hello, Sal.” Wells’ voice was clear, but there was wind noise and traffic in the background.
Bolini said, “What’s goin’ on?”
“Nothing, Sal.”
“When you leavin’ town?”
“Tonight.”
Bolini’s stomach turned a little. “Can we meet?”
“No time today, Sal.”
“Later, before you leave?”
A semi blasted its horn on the interstate. Bolini realized he heard the same horn over the phone. Wells was close.
“Naw, Sal. We’re done meeting. You always treated me right, so I’ll give you one last piece of info for free.”
“What’s that?”
“Stay out of downtown Miami today.” The phone went dead.
Bolini absently put it back in his coat pocket. He thought, Oh shit, what have I done? How was this going to make him look? He could always blame Tasker.
He reached for his phone book.
He dialed quickly, tapping his foot as it rang for a third, then a fourth time. Finally, he heard a male’s voice say, “Hello.”
Bolini said, “No bullshit. We gotta meet right now.”
thirty-one
Daniel Wells watched the dial of the old fuel pump roll up slowly. He put five gallons in the van itself. Why not, it wasn’t going anywhere after today. Then he started filling the tank he’d welded inside the van. He was careful not to let the clerk see he had the nozzle actually inside the beat-up step van. It probably didn’t matter because the guy never looked up from his perch inside the tiny building. There were sixty-five gallons in it already, and he intended to use at least eighty gallons. He looked at the tank. No leaks, and the bags of scrap metal fit on top and around the sides like moldable sandbags.
He looked at his watch. No, no, he wanted to wait at least two more hours. He looked up at the interstate a few blocks east. He’d put the van in place in an hour and a half. First he’d find someplace to eat. His stomach had been growling, but he was so excited he hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. He needed to clear his mind and think. After this he’d have to clear out, get the kids and be ready for anything.