Chapter 42
Dylan responded to Mitch’s voice by ducking forward over the keyboard just as he clouted El Paso on the back of his head with his pistol.
He’d taken El Paso completely off guard, but, despite the blow, he reacted instantly by whipping around and taking a swipe at Mitch’s throat that missed his Adam’s apple by a hair’s breadth.
As El Paso made a second pass, Mitch caught him by the wrist, stretched his arm up as high as it would reach, backed him against the desk, and pinned him there with his body to render his legs useless. But he was a fighter. His free arm reached around to pound that fist against Mitch’s kidney.
Dylan grabbed that hand, opened the top drawer of her desk, and slammed it hard on his fingers, then held the drawer closed with her hip.
El Paso howled in pain, but he still had the knife and kept trying to make downward thrusting motions against Mitch’s resistance. Mitch aimed the bore of his pistol at El Paso’s fist. “Let go of the blade or I’ll shoot it out.”
El Paso scoffed. “Fuck if you will.”
“Right. Why bother with your hand when my objective is to kill you?” He poked the pistol into El Paso’s eye socket.
El Paso snorted. “You’re bluffing. You’re a cop.”
“A man first. A man whose wife was murdered by Malone. He was mine to kill.”
“Aww, too bad.”
“For you, definitely.”
“You won’t shoot me.”
“Say adiós, El Paso.”
“Go to hell, mother—”
Mitch pulled the trigger. El Paso shrieked. The switchblade fell from his opened fist and clattered to the floor.
“Dylan, let him go.”
She stepped away from the drawer immediately, which allowed Mitch to turn El Paso around. He bent his arm behind his back and shoved his empty knife hand up between his shoulder blades, then pushed him cheek down onto the edge of Dylan’s desk where his sneakers had left muddy smears.
John, Nix, and Lear rushed in, guns drawn. Nix didn’t even break stride as she continued toward them. Mitch yelled, “No, no, no! Don’t shoot. Under control, and he’s too valuable.”
She braked, and Mitch heard John order her to stand down.
Then, leaning over El Paso, who was struggling, he whispered into his ear, “I missed on purpose, you know. I really wanted to rob you of your knife hand.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Mitch chuckled. “I’ve heard that before.”
Count on Lear to produce the handcuffs. He gave them to Mitch, who secured El Paso’s hands behind his back.
John told Nix to get officers over there to cordon off the building. He instructed Lear to notify NOPD that El Paso was in custody and to alert whoever owned the building that it was now a crime scene and had a bullet fired from Mitch’s nine-millimeter in the ceiling of Dr. Reede’s office.
The two detectives rushed from the room to do his bidding.
John helped Mitch haul El Paso into the lobby, where they made him sit on the floor, then used another pair of cuffs to secure him to a radiator.
“Thanks for the backup,” Mitch said.
“When I saw you bolting down the stairs, I cornered Clarence and he explained. We were right behind you. Now go see to Dylan.”
During all the activity of the last sixty seconds, she had stayed out of their way and was now standing in the doorway between the lobby and her sessions room, wringing her hands.
Mitch left John to Mirandize El Paso, while he went over to her and backed her into the parlor, as he always thought of it. “First of all, are you all right?”
She nodded. “Shaky.”
“Me, too. I’m all aquiver.”
“Don’t joke.”
“Wasn’t joking.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Secondly, what the hell are you doing here? If I wasn’t so relieved to see that you’re okay, I’d tell you how mad I am at you for leaving the camp.”
“I came for Malone’s patient file. To help you.”
“Thanks, but, Jesus, Dylan. When I realized you were here—”
“How did you know? Beth wasn’t supposed to tell until after I got the file.”
“She didn’t.” He told her about Clarence’s stammering warning. “I was scared I’d be too late.” He pulled her to him, a little clumsily and roughly. They clung fast to each other but only for moments before he set her away and asked about Andrew and Beth.
“They’re at her house. He was a little clingy, wanting you. He’s bound to have sensed tension from all of us. But once he sees you, he’ll be fine.”
From the lobby, they could hear John asking El Paso routine questions that were answered not at all or with an obscenity. After a particularly loud profanity, Mitch glanced back at them, then asked Dylan if she thought there might be something useful in Malone’s file.
“I won’t know until I get into it.”
Mitch said, “Get to it. I’ve gotta deal with this.”
He gave her a quick squeeze, then she headed for her inner office. He rejoined El Paso and John, who said under his breath, “The honor is all yours.”
“Looking forward to it.” Mitch squatted down in front of the hostile young man and flashed a grin. “How you doin’ there, hotshot? Your drawers aired out yet?”
El Paso glared at him with malice. “You Haskell?”
“Good guess.”
“Figured you might be.”
“Who told you about me?”
“I forget.”
Mitch smiled. “Well, I haven’t forgotten you. You cut me the other night in front of Malone’s restaurant.”
For the first time, he displayed some wariness. “That was you?”
Mitch raised his eyebrows.
El Paso looked up at John, who said, “Nasty cut. He’s still pissed about it.”
To Mitch, El Paso mumbled, “You looked like a bum. How was I to know you were a cop?”
“Well, I am. I’m the cop you cut, and the one who is about to cut short your life span.”
He chuffed. “That’s a bluff. You could’ve shot me in there,” he said, chinning toward the other room. “You didn’t. And you won’t, ’cause of your badge.”
“No, I won’t. But I am putting you in jail, where I don’t think you’re gonna live too long.”
Despite his circumstance, the kid could still smirk. “You think I’m scared of this shit-bird town’s jail?”
“Oh, I don’t think you’re scared of that at all. No.” Mitch scooted a few inches closer. “But, see, that’s not where you’re going. You killed Malone in Orleans Parish. So you’ll be incarcerated there… along with your Caballero amigos who you turned your back on today.”
El Paso’s smirk collapsed. Mitch’s grin got wider. “You’re gettin’ my drift, aren’t you? Since you abandoned your cartel cronies and went over to Oz’s side, I don’t think it’s going to be a very warm reunion when y’all get together in the jail yard.
“And don’t delude yourself into thinking that anyone over there in the Big Easy’s jail is going to protect your skinny ass, because half the police force, sheriff’s office, and higher-ups in the justice system were getting generous monthly graft from Malone to turn a blind eye to his lucrative drug dealing.
You gutted their candy man. They’re not gonna take kindly to you, son. ”
The young man’s foxy eyes had begun to dart about as though looking for a means of escape. But he still put up an arrogant front. “I know how to take care of myself.”
“Well, that’ll be an interesting matchup to watch. I want a front row seat. What do I think? I think one of the Caballeros is gonna get creative on how to end you.”
He squirmed. He wet his lips. His eyes had become furtive and fearful. “What if I were to… you know.”
“Betray somebody to save your hide?” Mitch chuckled. “Good try, but I’m making no deals with you.”
“I could give you something good. Lots of good stuff.”
“I said no deal.”
“Really good.”
Squinting, Mitch pretended to think on it. He looked up at John. “What do you think?”
John shrugged as though bored with the conversation. “I don’t know. Maybe. Depends on how good it is.”
Mitch went back to El Paso. “Maybe I could help you out.”
“Okay, okay.”
“But only if you give me Oz. You have thirty seconds to tell me who he is.”
El Paso gaped. “That’s what you want from me? Look, man, I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Mitch laughed. “Do you think Lieutenant Bowie and I are stupid? Of course you know.”
“I’m telling you, I don’t even know what he looks like. I never saw him. I only heard his voice.”
“Where, when?”
“Last night. In that meat locker.”
“Where you slaughtered Malone?”
More eye darting. “I want a lawyer.”
“Fine, I’ll get you one. And, anyway, your time’s up.” Mitch made to stand, but El Paso cried, “Wait!” Mitch stayed as he was. “Who is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Malone never told you Oz’s true identity? Ten seconds.”
“No, no never.”
“Come on, David. Is that your real name? Never mind. I don’t give a shit. I just want Oz’s real name. Five seconds.”
“I don’t know!” he shouted. “That’s the truth! I swear I don’t. I swear on the soul of my mother.”
Mitch laughed again. “You swear on your mother’s soul?”
“Yes, yes.”
Mitch abruptly stopped laughing. His eyes went cold. “One last chance. In one second, tell me who Oz is.”
“I don’t know.”
The thing was, Mitch believed him. He looked up at John, who, with a subtle nod of his head, conveyed that he believed him, too.
Mitch turned back to David Rodriguez. “Then we can’t help each other.”
He patted El Paso on the knee as he stood up and turned him over to Lear, who had returned with two patrol officers. As they escorted him out, he resumed his chorus of obscenities.
Dylan came into the lobby, waving a sheaf of papers, her face alight. “I may have something.” He and John gave her their immediate attention. “I ran a word search through the entirety of Malone’s file and printed out every place that he referred to his evil twin or Oz.”
“Did he ever mention Busby by name?”
“No,” she said, her expression sharing his disappointment.
“And he never confessed to a crime. But the psychological interpretation of things he told me could be significant. During our sessions, I was thinking in conceptual terms, that Malone was subject to negative impulses that were in conflict with his conscience.”
“Doesn’t everybody struggle with their conscience?”
“Most everybody, of course,” she said. “But I believe now that Malone’s evil twin and Oz weren’t just right versus wrong concepts. They were literal.” She pointed to a sentence on the top sheet.
“Look. After our very first session, I wrote in my notes, ‘Patient has religious ambiguities. Referred to an evil twin (an alter ego) whom he described as handsome and charismatic, a “showman,” while Roland perceives himself to be ugly and off-putting.’ And here—”
Mitch interrupted her. “Hold the thought. My phone’s buzzing.” He removed it from his pocket, saw the readout, and his heart bumped. He looked at John. “This may be what we’ve been waiting for. Fingers crossed.”
Officer Clarence had been one of the first to respond to Nix’s call for backup. As soon as he’d arrived, he began boasting to any of the curious onlookers who’d been attracted to the police activity around the medical building that it was he who’d “cracked the case.”
Nix had thought he would never shut up.
However, by now the hubbub had died down, the gawkers had dispersed, and unnecessary first responders had left. Left without an audience, Clarence motioned toward EATS and said, “I’m going to get a piece of pie and a cup of coffee. Want to come?”
“No, I’ll stand sentry in case Bowie needs one of us.”
After she declined his offer to bring her back something, he started across the street, and she hoped the service in the diner was slow. The meeting in Bowie’s office prior to El Paso’s capture had yielded a lot of information that Oz needed to know, and this was her first opportunity to report it.
The rain had slackened to a drizzle, but she pulled the hood of her slicker over her head before making the call. He answered; she identified herself. “I have a lot to tell you, and I don’t know how long I’ll be alone. If I hang up suddenly—”
“I’ll understand. Start talking.”
“El Paso was captured about half an hour ago.”
“Where?”
“In Dr. Reede’s office. Haskell and Bowie are interrogating him now.”
“Haskell,” he said with distaste. “And the therapist’s condition?”
“Saved in the nick of time by Haskell. He fired a shot to subdue El Paso, but no one was injured.”
He said nothing for a moment, then, “Well, no real harm done. El Paso doesn’t know my identity.”
“There’s more. Right before all this, we had a meeting in Bowie’s office. Haskell reported that a big drug bust took place today. Drugs were seized. You and the Caballeros lost men.”
“Old news, Nix. The men I lost were more expendable than the product.”
“I’m sorry, sir. What’s worrisome is that Haskell knew about it ahead of time.”
“It was a DEA raid. How did he know?”
“I asked. He wouldn’t say.”
“He must have a friend inside that agency. I’d like to know who.”
“I’ll try to ferret that out. There’s also a snitch in the protective custody of the marshal’s service.” She gave him the skinny on that. “Haskell didn’t name him, either, but he wants to squeeze him for information on Malone, and, by extension, you.”
“He can try. But, again, it will be futile. Whoever that individual is, he doesn’t know who I am. Now that Malone has been silenced, no one does.”
“Haskell believes he knows.”
He took a sharp breath, but didn’t say anything.
She went on. “He claims he has a suspect, someone who is scheduled to fly out tonight in his private jet. Wheels up at six o’clock.”
She waited in anticipation of how he would respond. When he said nothing at all, she continued. “Haskell and Bowie had a shouting match over it. Haskell wanted to go after this suspect aggressively. Bowie was afraid of jumping the gun and being wrong. They went at each other.”
“Still having their tiff?”
“It’s expanded into more than a tiff. What gets me,” she said, “is that Bowie still tolerates Haskell, who, in my opinion, is becoming more erratic each day. Even Bowie said to his face that he’d lost his perspective and all reason.”
“If only that were the case.”
“Granted. Haskell is clever and motivated by his wife’s death. He’s also gutsy and unpredictable. He’s a problem Malone should have handled for you.”
There was another weighty silence, then a sinister chuckle. “It sounds as though you’re hoping to assume some of Roland’s responsibilities.”
“Give me the go-ahead, and I could take care of Haskell, and do it in a way that no one would suspect me.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“I’ve proven myself to be a valuable asset, sir.”
“You have indeed. A valuable asset to the wrong side.”
Suddenly she realized that the smooth voice coming to her through the phone was also coming from directly behind her. She turned to discover Bowie and Haskell standing a few feet away.
Haskell had a cell phone to his ear. Speaking in the voice he’d used this morning to convince her that she was communicating with Oz, he said, “You have the right to remain silent.”