39. Loose Ends
Loose Ends
The hangar was empty no more. It seemed as if the entire county police force had mobilized to one spot.
Forensics, detectives, other agencies, and even a cleaning crew had arrived not long after we did.
They expanded the interagency task force several days ago, and Belle didn’t even bother to tell me; to be expected if I’m being honest. She was still keeping me at an arm’s length.
Speaking of which, she’d been missing for about an hour now after her fall and unplanned lathering; I was starting to get worried about her.
“I hope she’s alright,” I mumbled as her partner walked over.
“Do you have any idea who John Doe is?” James said.
“None.”
James crouched by the body and lifted the man’s shirt with his pen. Then dug into his front jean pocket with a gloved hand and pulled out a bundle of items.
“I see a wallet, a hotel key, a Yellow Pages advert for Thai massage, and a pack of chewing tobacco,” James said as he carefully placed the items on a cart beside him. The forensic guys had grabbed the mystery man’s prints and snapped some pictures of the area before bringing the cart over.
“Wallet? Any ID inside?” I said.
The forensic guy, covered in eggshell-white coveralls, carefully removed the contents of the wallet onto the cart.
“Carl Bell,” James said as he picked up the ID. He hailed a detective over and handed him the ID. “Run this ID and see if you get any information on this guy.”
“What do you think?” James said. He walked to me while removing the latex gloves. “Deal gone bad?”
“Maybe. But these guys have a habit of cutting loose ends. Regardless of the deal,” I replied. The forensic guys were now busy moving some boxes near the victim. “He doesn’t look like any of them.”
“What do you mean?” James said.
“He doesn’t look like the men who were here. They looked Middle Eastern or North African but spoke French,” I said. “Algeria or Tunisia?”
“Or Morocco. But it looks like Carl was contracted help?” James replied. “They got what they needed and then killed him. No need to pay the help if he’s dead.”
“Ruthless,” I replied. “Hmm. Any information on the jet?”
“The flight logs show the plane is due to arrive at a regional airport east of Paris in three hours,” James said.
“Can we contact the French government and ask them to greet our friends at arrivals?” I quipped.
“Working on it,” James replied. He pulled out a folded paper and handed it to me.
“This is our legal attaché in France. Works at the Embassy for the FBI and coordinates international law enforcement for events like this. He assured me they would be there when they arrived; he’s putting together a team right now. ”
“Do you think they know we’re onto them?”
“They left pretty quickly. Didn’t even bother to clean up the place,” James replied as he waved the glove at the corpse.
“So?” I said and turned to him. “Do you really believe they will land at that airport or somewhere else?”
“I guess we’ll find out soon,” James said.
At that moment, the detective from earlier returned with the victim’s ID.
“I got a match on the ID, and there’s something you should know,” the detective said quickly. He paused and looked at me, and then at James.
“Well? Go on,” James replied.
“Mr. Carl has a warrant out for his arrest,” the detective said.
“Had,” I said.
“Right. Had,” the detective replied.
“What for? Get on with it,” James said, his voice echoing in the hangar.
“Computer-related offenses. He has an extensive history going back over a decade. He was even prosecuted by the DC field office some six years ago. Hacking, cyberstalking, ransomware, viruses, you name it, he’s done it.
Quite prolific, too. He’s wanted by Interpol and several European countries. His last known location was Morocco.”
“How did he get into the country undetected?” I said.
“I believe our friends had a hand in that,” James said.
“But it appears it was a one-way ticket,” the detective quipped.
“Why would they hire this hacker and bring him all the way here?” I said. “It looks like they planned the APOLLO robbery for some time before moving ahead with it.”
“We’re dealing with professionals,” James said. “They have extensive resources and connections across continents. And they might even have foreign government assistance to pull something like this off.”
I nodded in agreement and thanked the detective.
As he left, Belle came marching in. She was wearing a jacket with the words FBI emblazoned on the front, a pair of gym shorts, and what looked like a t-shirt from the airport gift shop.
That contemptuous look in her eyes had turned into something darker. And angrier.
“Grab what you need from the supply truck outside. We’re leaving in one hour,” Belle said.
“Huh? Leaving where?” I said and glanced at James.
“Don’t look at me,” James replied. “I’m needed here.”
“France. We’re going after them,” Belle said.
“I can’t. I don’t have jurisdiction in another country, and besides, the captain would never approve of it,” I replied passionately.
Truthfully, I had no interest in chasing them half across the world.
I was actually quite glad to find out they had escaped and were now the French government’s problem. Not mine.
“Huh?” Belle said, pulling out her phone.
“Captain Smith? This is Belle. I’m sorry for the late call, but I just wanted to let you know that I’m taking Alex to France. The men we were investigating left before we could apprehend them,” Belle said. She had purposefully left the phone on speaker so that I could hear the captain.
“Oh, is that so? Well, that’s fine. Just bring me back a souvenir,” Captain Smith said.
“What?” I said. “But we don’t have jurisdiction!”
“You’re part of a task force, Alex. Help them out and have some fun. Live it up! Think of it as a paid vacation. Who wouldn’t want to go to France on the taxpayer’s dime?”
“Me!” I replied.
“I’m not giving you a choice. It’s an order. Now get on that damn plane and go after them,” Captain Smith yelled.
“And if I refuse?”
“You’ll get suspended so fast, it’ll make your head spin! Now, go! And don’t forget my souvenir!” Captain Smith belched into the receiver.
Belle ended the call as the captain mumbled on.
“Get your shit ready. We’re leaving soon,” Belle ordered and stomped out of the hangar.
My sense of peace and happiness at the thought of leaving this to the French quickly withered away like a croissant on a hot summer’s day; it turned brittle and collapsed on itself. But hope persisted. In three hours I would learn where I was headed for my vacation.