“Agent Trembley?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “Agent Eason. We don’t accept subpoenas here.” I nodded to the one in his hand.
“You just did,” I said.
“No, this has to be taken to the U.S. Attorney’s Office,” he said.
Lorna raised her cell phone and took a photo of Eason and the subpoena.
“Hey!” the agent cried. “No photos. Delete that now!”
“You’re served,” Cisco said.
Mission accomplished, I reached back and hit the elevator button. The doors opened right away. I looked back at Eason.
“My card’s there,” I said. “Tell Trembley he can call anytime.”
We left Eason standing there, holding the subpoena. As the elevator doors closed I saw him glance through the glass at the receptionist. He looked both angry and embarrassed.
Back down in the lobby I gave Lorna and Cisco the news about Bishop.
“I just hired a driver,” I said.
We walked through the glass doors to the flag plaza.
“Who?” Lorna asked. “I thought hiring someone was my job.”
“Bambadjan Bishop,” I said.
“What?” Lorna said. “Who?”
“Is that the guy who had your back in Twin Towers?” Cisco asked.
“Exactly,” I said. “He’s out and I’m trying him out as a driver. I sort of promised him the job when I was in there. The protection money to his girlfriend now stops and I’m paying him eight bills a week to drive.”
“And you trust him?” Lorna asked.
“Not exactly,” I said. “I need to make sure he’s legit. After the eavesdropping scam and now the wallet gone missing, I’m not going to be surprised by anything the other side pulls.”
“You think he’s wired up for them?” Lorna asked.
“No indication of that but I want to be sure,” I said. “That’s where you come in, Big Man.”
“Where is he?”
“Out in the lot somewhere. I’ll text him to come pick me up.”
“So you want me to bend him over the car or what?”
“I want you to search him for a wire but you don’t need to prone him out. I think he’ll cooperate. If he doesn’t, then we know.”
When we got to the parking lot, I texted the number Bishop had given me and we waited. When the Lincoln pulled up, Lorna and I got into the back and Cisco squeezed into the front for the meet and greet.
“Bishop, this is Lorna and Cisco,” I said. “Lorna manages the practice and she’ll get with you about any paperwork you need to set up the job. And Cisco’s my investigator and he needs to check you.”
“Check me for what?” Bishop said.
“A wire,” Cisco said. “Just a little pat-down.”
“That’s bullshit,” Bishop said. “I ain’t wearin’ no wire.”
“I don’t think you’re wearing one either,” I said. “But a lot of confidential conversations take place in this car. I need to be able to guarantee my clients that they are in fact confidential.”
“Whatever,” Bishop said. “I got nothing to hide.”
Cisco turned in his seat and reached his big hands toward Bishop’s chest. It took him less than a minute to make a determination.
“He’s clean,” Cisco said.
“Good,” I said. “Welcome to the team, Bishop.”
21
They came that night to my home. A knock so sharp that Kendall nearly shrieked. She was bingeing the last season of The Sopranos and was already on edge. I was sitting next to her on the couch, going through the files from the old Sam Scales cases I had handled.
I opened the door and a man and woman stood there. I knew they were feds before they said word one or showed their badges. They introduced themselves as agents Rick Aiello and Dawn Ruth. Over my shoulder they could see Kendall sitting on the couch and asked if there was a place we could speak privately. I stepped out through the front door and pointed to the table and chairs at the far end of the deck.
“Out here is good,” I said.
We moved toward the table, and the motion engaged the deck lights — two sconces on the wall and an overhead in the roof’s eave. That told me that the motion-activated camera attachment had engaged as well.
We stopped at the high-top table but no one sat down. I broke the ice.
“I suppose this is about the subpoena we dropped off for your boss today,” I asked.
“Yes, sir, it is,” said Aiello.
“We need to know why you believe that the bureau would have any information on the activities of Sam Scales,” Ruth said.
I smiled and spread my hands.
“Does it matter now?” I asked. “Aren’t the two of you confirming it by showing up here at my house at nine o’clock at night? I thought the subpoena might cause some commotion and consternation, but to be honest, I wasn’t expecting you guys till at least tomorrow, maybe Wednesday.”
“We’re glad you think it’s funny, Mr. Haller,” Aiello said. “We don’t.”
“No, what’s not funny is me being charged with the murder of a guy who was being watched by the FBI,” I said. “Maybe you can tell me — how did that happen?”
I was bluffing, hoping to get a confirmation or some indication I was on the right track with Sam Scales. But the agents were too smart for that.
“Good try,” Ruth said.
From the inside pocket of his standard-issue FBI blue blazer, Aiello pulled out a folded document and handed it to me.
“There’s your stupid little subpoena,” he said. “Wipe your ass with it.”
“What about my Freedom of Information Act petition?” I asked. “I guess I can wipe my ass with that too, huh?”
“We don’t expect to hear from you again,” Ruth said.
She nodded to Aiello and they turned back toward the steps. I watched them go and then, without thinking, I made a play for the camera.
“Or what?” I called after them. “You know it’s all going to come out at trial. I’m not going down so you can keep your BioGreen case secret.”
Ruth pirouetted perfectly and came back toward me. But Aiello passed her on the outside and got to me first.
“What did you say?” he asked.
“I think you heard me pretty good,” I said.
He brought both hands up and shoved me backward into the deck railing, then moved in and held me leaning back over it, the street twenty-five feet below.
“Haller, you’ve been told,” he said. “Any attempt by you to compromise a federal investigation that has zero to do with your... situation... is going to be met with a very harsh response.”
Ruth made an effort to pull her partner off me but she didn’t have the weight or muscle.
“What’s going on at that plant?” I asked. “What’s Opparizio got going? I exposed that guy for what he was nine years ago. You’re kind of late to the game.”
Aiello put his own weight into leaning me farther over. It was a wooden railing and I felt it hard against my backbone. I was afraid the rail might give way and we would both fall to the street.
“Rick!” Ruth yelled. “Let him go. Now!”
Aiello finally pulled me by the collar back onto steady ground and pointed at my face.
“You don’t know what you’re dealing with,” he said.
“Just barking up the wrong tree, huh?” I said. “Is that what—”
“You’re barking up the wrong planet, Haller,” Aiello said. “Stay away from it. Or you’ll bear witness to the power and might of the federal government.”
“Is that a threat?” I asked.
“It is what it is,” Aiello said.
Ruth yanked her partner away by the arm.
“Have a good evening,” she said.
She pulled him toward the steps. They passed Kendall, who now stood in the open doorway to the house, drawn from the television by the raised voices. I watched them go, this time deciding not to bother baiting them further. They descended the stairs to the street. I heard Ruth admonish Aiello in a tense whisper.