Неизвестный - 4. Justice In The Shadows

The words hit Sloan like a hammer blow. Her knees felt suddenly weak, and the next thing she was aware of was gasping for breath as tears poured down her cheeks. “Oh God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you were hurt. I love you so much.”

“Come here, love,” Michael murmured, tugging on Sloan’s hand.

Somehow, Sloan managed to get the bed rail down and very carefully stretched out next to Michael, curling on her side and pressing her face close to Michael’s on the pillow. “I’m such a mess without you.”

“Well, I’m here,” Michael soothed. “And you know I’ll never leave you, don’t you?”

Nodding, Sloan caressed Michael’s face as she slipped into sleep. I promise to take you home soon. And I promise, no matter what, that you’ll be safe from now on.

When Sloan was certain that Michael was asleep, she eased from the bed and slipped from the room. On her way through the hospital, she stopped at a payphone.

A female voice answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Sarah? It’s Sloan. Is Jason around?”

“He’s in the study. I’ll get him.”

A minute later, Jason said, “How’s Michael.”

“Good. There’s even a chance she’ll come home soon.” Saying the words made Sloan feel uncharacteristically superstitious, so she quickly moved on. “What are you doing?”

There was a beat of silence, then, “Phishing for addresses on our Internet ‘friends.’”

Sloan understood that to mean he was trying to pin down the on-line pedophiles the team had been tracking. Phishing referred to the practice of hijacking confidential information from on-line consumers by pretending to be a legitimate business updating a common account, such as AOL or Paypal. An individual would receive an e-mail claiming that there had been a problem with the billing of the consumer’s account and directing the consumer to click on a hyperlink in the body of the e-mail for the “Billing Center.” When the consumer clicked on the link they landed on a site that looked completely legitimate, but when they entered their confidential financial or personal data, it would be relayed back to the Internet thief.

“Finding anything?”

“Might be.”

Sloan caught her breath. “How about we discuss this at the office?”

“Sure. When?”

“Now.” Sloan hung up, her fatigue magically dissipating. She was ready to hunt.

At seven-thirty Rebecca settled into a plain office chair in the drab institutional room and nodded perfunctorily to the middle-aged man seated across from her.

“Good morning, Sergeant,” he said.

“Dr. Whitaker.”

“I was a bit surprised to find that you had scheduled more sessions with me.”

Rebecca shrugged. “My paperwork isn’t quite in order, and Captain Henry won’t assign me to any regular duty because of it.”

“Ahh…I see. So I’m the sticking point.”

“Yes.”

He asked the usual routine follow-up questions, to which she answered with the obligatory neutral responses. Near the end of the session, he asked, “And how is Dr. Rawlings?”

“She’s fine.” Rebecca held his gaze, refusing to reveal her surprise at the unanticipated turn in the conversation.

“How does she feel about your job?”

“Why does it matter?”

“One major source of stress in a police officer’s life is conflict at home. There is very often domestic discord stemming from the erratic work hours or complaints of…emotional absence.”

His words hit close to the mark, and Rebecca colored. “I’m not stressed.”

“Then you may be the only officer who isn’t.” Whitaker smiled slightly.

“What do you know about Catherine?” she asked abruptly. Never let the witness lead the discussion. Always take the offensive position.

Whitaker blinked. “Uh…I know you met during the serial rape case. I know that you saved her life.” A beat passed while he visibly regrouped. “And I suspect that you’re lovers.”

“Why?” Rebecca’s tone was laser-sharp.

“You haven’t denied a personal relationship, and every time her name comes up, you become defensive. No…not defensive. Protective.” He smiled. “Which is what you do, after all, isn’t it, Sergeant?”

“That’s the job description.”

“Does she mind what you do?”

“Her name does not belong in your report. If you want me to come back for another session, you had best see that it isn’t.” And you want me to come back, don’t you? You want something from me.

“You have my word.” He leaned forward. “Is she bothered by your job?”

“We’re not going to discuss Catherine Rawlings.” Rebecca glanced at her watch. “And it’s time for me to go.”

“We have another minute or two. Would you quit if she asked you to? Theoretically, of course.”

“What difference does that make, theoretically?”

“It says a lot about you.”

Rebecca stood and pointed to the gold shield exposed on the flap of the leather badge case which protruded from her breast pocket. “That says all you need to know about me.”

“I don’t agree, Sergeant,” he rejoined softly.

“Your prerogative.”

As Rebecca reached for the door, she heard the quiet words from behind her. “You didn’t answer my question.”

She turned the knob, pushed the door open, and stepped out into the hall. She didn’t want him to see her face, because she was afraid he’d realize that she didn’t know the answer.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Rebecca walked directly from Whitaker’s office to the vice squad division. As she had come to expect, even though it daily continued to shock her, Watts was already at his desk. “Anything new?”

“The computer cops want us to come over.”

Twenty minutes later, they were buzzed into Sloan’s building. Jason, Sloan, and, to Rebecca’s surprise, Mitchell as well, were all seated at computer stations, cups of coffee on the counters beside them.

Glancing at Sloan, Rebecca raised an eyebrow. “How are things at the hospital?”

Despite the creases of fatigue in her forehead and the shadows marring her cheeks, Sloan’s eyes were sparkling. “Much better. Thanks.”

“Glad to hear it. So, what’s up?”

“Jason,” Sloan said, “why don’t you bring them up to speed.”

“Yesterday afternoon,” Jason explained, “I made a list of all the e-mail addresses of people who used to chat with LongJohnXXX on a regular basis, figuring that some of them must be subscribers to the porn videos. Unfortunately, the list is long, and there’s no way of knowing at this point how many of the individuals are locals. There’s also no way to know if they really have anything at all to do with the porn ring.”

“But?” Rebecca could hear the excitement in his voice.

“But once I get names and addresses, it shouldn’t be that difficult to find out other things about these guys. I can put together profiles, and we can do the same thing we did with Long John. Maybe we’ll get another hit.”

Rebecca looked skeptical. “It’s a long shot.”

“It’s not like we have a lot else going on right now,” Jason responded, looking not the least bit deterred. “Once we have some probables, I thought Catherine might look at them. She can…sense things. She’s a great profiler.”

Rebecca opened her mouth to say no, and clamped her jaws tight instead. She rubbed the bridge of her nose where a headache was forming. There seemed to be no way at all that she could keep Catherine away from the investigation. “Yeah. That’s a good idea.”

“Anything new at the cop shop?” Sloan inquired.

“Let’s go back to the conference room for a briefing,” Rebecca suggested. “I’ve got some ideas.”

Once they were all settled around the table, Rebecca studied her team, knowing that she had to make a decision now as to how much she would share. Two people present were civilians, one was just a rookie cop, and what she had to say was beyond sensitive. But all of them were willing to walk on a high wire without a net in the name of justice. She owed them her trust.

“Sandy gave me a lead last night. It’s not much, but she thinks she might have seen the guy in the porn video at this sex club called Ziggies.”

“Whoa, that’s choice,” Watts exclaimed. “That place is supposed to be mobbed up.”

“Can Sandy work the place?” Sloan asked immediately. “It would be good to have someone on the inside there.”

Mitchell’s face turned white. “You want her to turn tricks in there for information? Why don’t you just shoot her instead? At least that would be quick and painless.”

Sloan jerked around in her seat to stare at Mitchell, shocked by the ourburst.

“Officer, you’re out of line,” Rebecca shot out, watching Mitchell carefully. The young officer stared straight ahead, her back ramrod stiff, her neck flushed. She was controlling her anger, but just barely. “Unfortunately, I think Sandy’s too well-known there. If she starts hanging out for no good reason, especially if she’s talking around, someone will notice.”

“What you need is someone undercover,” Jason observed mildly. “I agree that Sandy is a good source, but she’s at risk if she becomes too visible. You need someone who’s part of the club life.”

Watts spoke up. “Maybe we can put a female cop in Ziggies.”

“To do what?” Jason asked pointedly. “Dance topless? I think most of your detectives would consider that a little beyond the call.”

Sloan eyed Jason. “Do you have something in mind Jason?”

“I know someone who can get inside.” Jason smiled at Sloan.

Of course you do, Sloan thought. Jesus, Sarah is going to kill us.

Rebecca shook her head. “I can’t bring in another civilian. And I don’t want someone on the team I don’t know.”

“It’s not what you think,” Jason said.

“You want to explain?”

“Let me set something up for later,” he said, “and if you’re not happy with it, we’ll forget the idea.”

“Fine. At this point, I’ll consider any option.” Rebecca looked directly at Sloan. “We need to dig out the leak within the department. That’s going to be on you.”

Sloan’s violet eyes flashed. This was the green light she’d been waiting for. “I need a list of everyone you can think of who might have known about the operation last weekend. Jason and I will need to trace financial records, employment histories, educational background, previous postings—anything that might tie into Zamora or point to some other criminal activity.”

“I know.” Rebecca made her decision. “For starters, there’s Capt. John Henry, commander of the Vice unit. Teri Cummings is the civilian clerk, and she probably handled the paperwork for the warrant. At this stage, I’m unaware of anyone else in the police department who might have known about it directly.”

“Are you suspicious of either one?” Jason’s question was placed mildly, but he knew by its very nature it was inflammatory.

“I wouldn’t have been suspicious of Henry if I hadn’t learned that he had previously been involved in shutting down the investigation into the murder of two cops. If he wasn’t part of the cover-up, he was at least aware of it and let it happen.” Her tone was bitter. “So that puts him high on the list. Cummings I don’t know at all, but it’s hard to believe it would be her.”

“Is there anyone who has access to your field reports or your files or anything that might have had information about what we were doing?” Sloan inquired.

Rebecca started to shake her head no, and then stopped abruptly. “Goddamn it. I was…injured…earlier this year and out of commission for a while. In order to be reinstated, I had to see the department shrink. He could have picked up something from me.”

“Are you still seeing him?” Jason asked directly, no apology in his voice. This wasn’t personal, this was business. Deadly business.

“Yes.” Rebecca gave no explanation, because the reasons didn’t matter. “Why?”

“He could have unrestricted access to any file he asked for,” Jason mused.

“It’s possible, I guess.” Rebecca’s expression was unmistakably skeptical.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” another voice interjected.

Rebecca looked at Mitchell and raised an eyebrow. “Officer?”

If possible, Mitchell sat even straighter. “I may have inadvertently revealed some information about the operation as well. In…uh…counseling.”

“Jesus, kid, you too?” Watts’s tone was disgusted. “Is everybody in the goddamned department getting shrunk?”

“You’re seeing Whitaker, also?” For the first time, Rebecca’s voice held an edge of excitement. Connections were what made a case—small things that seemed inconsequential at first often turned out to be the key that fit the lock that broke it wide open.

“No, ma’am, not Whitaker. Dr. Rawlings.”

Watts sucked in a breath and Rebecca went completely still. The conversation of last night came back to her. She’d been talking to Catherine about Mitchell and Sandy. How much does Catherine know?

“Well, I can guarantee that Catherine is not the source of the leak.” Rebecca’s voice was cool, even, her hands steady as they rested on the tabletop.

“What about her reports, her files?” Sloan stood and walked to the coffeemaker. “She must keep some kind of records. Maybe there’s something in there.”

“That will be difficult to ascertain.” Rebecca drew a long breath and settled herself. “Dr. Rawlings will not discuss her patients in any way.”

Mitchell interjected, “If it would help, I’ll give my permission for her to turn over my records.”

“If that becomes necessary, we may go that route. But let’s hold on that for now.” Rebecca had been down that road with Catherine before. It was not a trip she wanted to take again.

“What about getting me direct access to the police department’s computer system?” Sloan asked.

Rebecca nodded. “I think I can get you in. Dee Flanagan, the CSU chief, is mightily pissed off that someone raided her computer and stole the files of an ongoing investigation. I think she’ll let you tear her system apart.”

“I can work on it there?”

“Sure. If anyone asks, you’re just one of the IT people who came around to upgrade her system. No one will think twice about it.”

“Good enough.”

“We have to assume that whoever went after you, Sloan, knows about all of us.” Rebecca’s expression was serious, but her voice completely calm. “That means heads up for everybody. Make sure you’re not being followed anywhere and if something doesn’t look right, assume that it’s wrong.”

Sloan thought about the fact that Michael would be upstairs, possibly in a few hours. She nodded, her eyes as flat and dark as onyx. “Understood.”

“Mitchell,” Rebecca said as she stood. “I want you here with Jason and Sloan, working up background and tracing down those email addresses. Sloan, I’ll call you as soon as I clear things with the CSU chief, and if you’ve got time, I’ll take you over there to meet her.” She glanced at her watch. “Let’s say we meet back here around five this afternoon. Jason, does that give you enough time to contact your source?”