Page 75 of Paranoia

“I don’t need you to agree. We need help, but if you’re not the right person for it, I’ll find someone else.”

Wu considered it for a full ten seconds. Then he nodded his head and said, “You’re the one on the hook for this if things gobad. I guess I can go along for the ride.” He looked around the office, then turned back to me. “Why did you call me in? I’m just curious.”

“I called you because you’re an asshole. But you’re an asshole with no connection to the Land Sharks and I know you’re straight-up. All the time.”

Wu gave me a satisfied smile. “I appreciate all of that. Thank you.”

CHAPTER 111

DENNIS WU WAS rightfully skeptical about Kevin Doyle’s motives for helping us. Hell, I was too.

Wu took me aside in the office. “I’m a little concerned about the scope of this thing. This sort of operation should have a lot more detectives on it.”

“I’m worried about a bigger operation getting back to Inspector Cantor. Do you want to call in some more of your people from IA?”

Wu thought about it, then said, “Most of them are tied up on something else. Besides, I go by the old saying:The fewer men, the greater the glory.” He looked pleased with himself.

“Are you paraphrasing Shakespeare’sHenry V? Or just looking to score some points for the next promotional exams?”

“Why can’t it be both?”

I had to give him that one. I even chuckled out loud. Wu grinned.

Then he got serious. “You really think Inspector Cantor was out here having her cousin clean up her history just for a goddamn City Council job?”

“No, I don’t. I think she has higher aspirations. Something like mayor.”

Wu shrugged. “I guess it’s not that far-fetched. She’s smart, telegenic, and, apparently, ruthless.”

Wu wanted to interview Kevin Doyle himself to satisfy his concerns about Doyle’s credibility. I sat in the conference room while they spoke. I hated to admit it, but Wu was professional and efficient.

As they were wrapping up, Wu leaned in closer to Doyle. “This should go smoothly. But I want you to understand that I will do anything I have to if you try to escape. I’m not going to have a confessed murderer running around in public. I want to be straight with you right from the start.”

Doyle looked past Wu to me. He said in a calm voice, “I’ve already explained to Detective Bennett why I’m doing this.” Then he looked back at Wu. “You do what you think your duty dictates. I’m doing what I feel I need to do, to clear at least some of my conscience.”

Wu slapped the top of the conference table. “We’ve got a rodeo.”

That sounded like Wu approved of our plan.

CHAPTER 112

BEFORE WE GOT too excited about making a case, we needed Kevin Doyle to make a recorded phone call to his cousin, Celeste Cantor.

Dennis Wu, Rob Trilling, and I sat in the conference room with Doyle still handcuffed to his chair and shackled to the wooden chair next to him. We carefully cuffed his right hand to the chair as we released his left hand. We hooked a recorder to fit in Doyle’s ear, which would allow each of us to listen to the call as well. We gave Doyle back his cheap burner phone and he dialed the number to Cantor’s burner phone.

She answered after two rings, sounding concerned. “What’s up?”

We had already briefed Doyle on what to say. “All done. But I want to meet with you for a few minutes.”

“Why?”

“Need to clear a few things up. No big deal, but I’m leaving early in the morning. Can we just grab coffee or a bite somewhere?”

Cantor gave him the name of a family-owned Italian place in Williamsburg over in Brooklyn, Mama Rosa’s. We had an hour and half to scout it and set up. I hated doing things on such a constricted timeline, but there were really no other choices. I felt my lieutenant’s absence acutely. Normally, Harry Grissom would run interference with the brass, recruit others to help, and generally be a calming and insightful voice on an operation like this. I guess you don’t really appreciate people until they’re not around. When Harry got back from vacation, I intended to let him know how much I had missed him. For now, everyone was looking to me for guidance.

I rummaged around the storage closet where we kept extra equipment, recorders, transmitters, and anything else we didn’t use on a daily basis. After a moment, I found an off-white heavy T-shirt our tech unit had created for us. It had a concealed Kevlar patch covering the chest and most of the stomach. I also had one of our tech guys sew a tracker into the hem of it, something we used with informants. I’d be able to follow Doyle from a program on my phone if things went bad.

When Trilling and Wu stepped out of the conference room with Doyle, I explained about the shirt. I said, “It’s designed for protection against small- and medium-caliber pistols. It wouldn’t do much against a rifle. But I’m going to need you to wear it under your shirt just in case.”

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