David Rosenfelt - One Dog Night

I think I know the real reason.

“Did Steven have any business dealings with people or companies in Philadelphia?”

She’s becoming annoyed with my questions. “Mr. Carpenter, Steven was an assayer. His job was to tell his company what was under the ground that they owned. There are sewers under Philadelphia.”

I thank her and apologize for bothering her. I start to dial Mulcahy’s number when I see that Laurie is calling me on the other line. I stop dialing and take her call.

“Andy, the world down here just exploded.”

“What are you talking about?”

“There was a huge explosion, maybe five miles from here. We could see the cloud go up, and our car shook.”

“What was it?”

“I can’t be sure, but it happened out here in the middle of nowhere, and it was on Milgram land. I don’t believe in coincidences; it might have been the place we’re looking for.”

“Okay, let me think for a minute,” I say, but then only use up ten seconds of my requested time. “We have to assume that they took whatever they needed to out of the ground, and the explosion was to destroy the mine and cover their tracks.”

“So it’s got to be on a truck,” she says. “There are no train tracks out here, and I haven’t seen any planes take off.”

“Right, and it’s got to be going south.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s a foreign connection here; that’s what Mulcahy said. Assuming it’s too large to get on a plane, then it’s going to leave by boat, and the nearest water is south. You should at least start heading in that direction.”

“Marcus and San are three hours south of us right now. They were driving around the Milgram land down there.”

“Then call them and tell them to head south, and wait for further instructions, in case we figure something out.”

Laurie promises to do so, and I call Mulcahy. He’s not there, so I tell them to have him call me, that’s it’s a matter of life and death.

There’s nothing I can do except wait for him to call, so I turn on the television and see that the first reports about the explosion are coming in. They are saying that a mine blew up, possibly from leaking natural gas, but that no people were believed to have been in the mine.

I have my doubts about the lack of casualties; starting with Loney, people with knowledge of the operation are being wiped out. But I have more than doubts about the “leaking natural gas.” That is pure bullshit.

It takes forty of the longest minutes I’ve ever experienced until Mulcahy calls me, and I don’t waste any time. “The mine explosion is what we were watching for. They’ve taken out what they need, and are covering up the evidence. Unless I’m wrong, they’ve covered up a bunch of people in the process.”

“Shit,” he says. “Do you have any idea where they’re going with it?”

“No, but they’ve got to get it out of the country, and…” It hits me as I’m talking, and I’m immediately angry with myself for not seeing it earlier. “Hold on a minute. I’ve got an idea.”

I put the phone down and grab the case files. I search for Sam’s report on Loney’s phone records, scanning down the list of files until I find what I’m looking for.

I grab the phone again and say, “Galveston. He’s heading for Galveston.”

“How do you know that?”

“One of the people on Loney’s phone records is a guy named Jason Young. He’s a customs official in Galveston. It all fits; they must be blackmailing Young to get him to do something for them. And that something is to pave the way for this shipment to get on a boat and out of the country.”

“I’m on it.”

“You want to know who you’re looking for?” I ask.

“Who’s that?”

“Unless I’m wrong, it’s Alex Bauer.”

“He’s dead,” Mulcahy points out.

“He might not be as dead as we think.”

I check the files again, and then call Sam to update him.

“We’re only about a half hour from Galveston,” he says. “But we’re going to die before we get there. Marcus is driving about four hundred miles an hour.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re ahead of Bauer,” I say. “And you both might be ahead of the FBI. Head for the port; I was there a bunch of years ago; I think there’s one main road in.”

“What are we looking for?”

“A large truck with Bauer in it.”

“And if we see it?”

“Stop it.”

“How the hell are we going to do that?” he asks.

“Marcus will figure it out.”

I call Laurie and brief her on what’s going on. She’s heading in that direction as well, but is pretty far behind. Whatever is going to happen will take place well before she gets there.

“It’ll be okay. They’ll have agents all over that place.”

“I know, but Bauer has been outsmarting everybody all along. Once he gets the material off the truck, there’s no telling where it could go.”

“Andy, what makes you think Bauer’s alive?”

“Steven Lockman made two secret trips to Philadelphia on the way back from Texas. According to his wife, he had been worried about money, with a baby on the way, and felt he was underpaid. My guess is he felt that if he reported to Milgram what he found, all he would have gotten would have been a pat on the back.”

“But if he sold the information to a competitor like Bauer, he would get a lot more,” she says.

“He thought it would make him rich, but it made him dead.”

“But how does that mean Bauer is alive?” she asks. “Maybe his partners in this killed him.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think so. Bauer has been lying to us all along, and in the process trying to find out what we know. Faking his death would make sense; after whatever this is goes down, no one would be looking for him.”

It’s incredibly frustrating sitting in New Jersey and wondering what is happening all those miles from here. For me the only thing worse than being far away when friends are in danger would be to be in danger myself.

As soon as I put the phone down it rings. I pick it up, assuming that it’s Mulcahy, or Sam, or someone that’s a part of the exploding events in Texas.

It isn’t. It’s Rita Gordon, the court clerk. “Andy, you need to be in court at ten A.M. tomorrow morning.”

“Why?” I ask, though I know the answer.

“There’s a verdict.”

Mulcahy’s first call was to the Houston bureau, the office closest to Galveston.

It was quickly put through to the bureau director, Ryan Van Pelt, who fortunately was in his office. The call was taken by Gary Summers, who served as Van Pelt’s executive assistant.

Mulcahy explained the urgent nature of the call to Summers, who quickly grasped the situation and put the call straight through to his boss.

It look less than sixty additional seconds for Mulcahy to make the situation clear to Van Pelt, who promised to get every agent under his command into the field, and in this case the field meant the Galveston port.

There are emergency procedures in place at every bureau office, and the moment Van Pelt got off the phone he set them into action. Everything worked smoothly and according to plan, and within ten minutes every agent within range was on the way to Galveston.

Van Pelt then notified his contact at the Department of Defense that assistance might be needed, and that he would keep them apprised of developments. After that, he left the office to go down and personally supervise the operation in Galveston.

He issued instructions with Summers to patch all calls regarding this crisis to him in the field, which Summers promised to do.

Once Van Pelt was out the door, Summers took out his cell phone and dialed a number. When the connection was made, he simply said, “They know.”