Джеймс Паттерсон - The 18th Abduction

Conklin said, “Carly had wounds from a weapon like this. Adele had a throwing star in her back. I’m still new at this, but I think that’s enough probable cause for an indictment.”

“Ah, you are amateurs, you know. You’ve got nothing on me.”

What he was saying was just true enough.

We had nothing on him in San Francisco, USA. Nothing. I pushed past the faint but creeping doubt and said, “There is evidence against you. You can count on it.”

“ You can count on this, ” Petrović said. He looked puffed up and happy as he sat back in his chair.

“I’m working with your federal government. I have immunity.”

Chapter 107

I didn’t believe Petrović’s claim that he had made a deal with the Feds.

I said, “Yeah. Right.”

And that’s when Jacobi pushed the door open and came into the room with a man I didn’t know. But I knew the type. He was fortysomething, tailored, hair combed back, looking like he’d told his driver to wait.

Jacobi was holding a piece of paper with a government letterhead, and he looked disgusted. He said, “Petrović, your lawyer is here.”

The lawyer introduced himself as Richard Constable. He said to Petrović, “Tony, I’m here to take you home. Lieutenant, please say the magic words.”

Jacobi put his hands on the table, leaned down, and said to Petrović, “You’re free to go.” He stood up and said, “Inspector Conklin, please help Mr. Petrović check out.”

When Conklin had walked Petrović and his attorney out of the room, Jacobi said to me and Joe, “Look. I’m as rocked by this as you are. Joe, a special FBI task force out of DC delivered this letter in person.”

Jacobi slapped the paper down on the table so that we could read it. It was one paragraph long and stated that Slobodan Petrović, a.k.a. Tony Branko, was under protection of the FBI. It was signed by the director himself in a bold, unequivocal hand.

Jacobi said, “I’d guessed that Petrović was given protection in exchange for some deal he made with the ICC. It’s clean-record dependent. His deal is good if he doesn’t commit a crime.

“We know,” said Jacobi, “all of us know, that we can’t connect Petrović to any of those dead or missing women. We’re not going to get him deported on brandishing a weapon.”

“Wait a minute, Warren,” Joe cut in. “We have those two dopes we picked up in Vladic’s house today. They work for Tony. They have to know everything about him.”

Jacobi said, “I’ve left a voice mail for the DA. Until we have search warrants for Petrović’s house and business, and same for Vladic’s house, this case is suspended.

“Go home,” he said kindly. “And in case I haven’t been clear, Boxer, no off-duty surveillance. Joe, Steinmetz has the same instructions for you. Stay away from this guy. We’ve been given our orders. Let’s not screw up.”

He stared at our shocked faces for a second, then said, “Good job, everyone. Sorry about this.”

I was in a rage. I stood up fast, knocking over my chair, saying, “We can’t just drop this like it never happened, Jacobi. Susan and Anna—”

“Trust me, Boxer, it’s not over, but our hands are tied right now. Go home. Get some sleep. Tell Conklin the same.”

He had to be kidding.

Were those two women bound and gagged inside the trunk of a car? Were they going to get the night off ?

Jacobi shook his finger at me, emphasizing, I mean it. Then he walked out of the room.

Chapter 108

Joe and I took Martha for a nice long walk at dawn, both of us fuming and swearing for a good half hour.

Back home, we cooled off with a pint of ice cream, followed by chilled California Pinot. After that, our clothes came off and we leaned on each other under a hot shower. The sun was fully up when we dove into bed, and speaking for myself, I slept like I was in a coma.

Sometime later Joe gently shook my arm until I woke up. He was holding my phone. “Jacobi,” he said.

I grunted “Hey” into the speaker holes, and Jacobi said, “I’ve got news for both of you. I’m downstairs. I brought coffee cake.”

Joe filled the coffeepot. I put on jeans and a T-shirt and was ready for Jacobi when the doorbell rang.

Back then, I’d known Jacobi for ten years. Some of that time I worked for him. Some of that time he worked for me. But most of those years we were partners and spent untold hours patrolling the district in our squad car. We talked about everything, investigating crimes that were unforgettable and searing and educational. Working with Jacobi made me the cop I am today.

I know Jacobi.

And when he walked into the apartment that morning, I couldn’t read his expression at all.

We went to the kitchen island, and immediately Joe said, “I’ll be right back. I’ll just run Martha down to the corner.”

It took him longer to get back than I expected, and when he returned, Jacobi and I were well into the coffee and cake. After Joe helped himself, Jacobi gave us the reason for his visit.

He said, “After I sent you all home, Marko Vladic was picked up for that broken headlight. The patrolmen were sharp. Saw that there was a BOLO out for him, as a suspect in a kidnapping, and brought him in. First thing out of Vladic’s mouth was, ‘I want a deal.’”

I said, “Oh, really. What was the offer?”

“He said he knew where Anna and Susan were and he’d reveal that location in exchange for immunity. I told him, ‘I want the women first, and after that, we’ll talk to the DA. ASAP.’ He said he didn’t know if they’d live much longer.”

I felt my heart seize up.

Joe said, “Jesus Christ,” and put his head in his hands.

Jacobi said, “I know, I know,” and then he went on.

“I told Vladic, okay, I’d give him a deal in writing. He had to give the women to us now, and I wanted evidence and testimony that Petrović killed Myers and Saran. He agreed to giving up the women. That shit told me, ‘I’ll give you those bitches, but I’m not going to say a word against Tony.’”

I said, “Crap. And you said?”

“I said okay.”

“I don’t understand,” said Joe.

“I said okay, release the women to me, and I’ll go to work for you. I wrote it down for him,” Jacobi said. “I made it good. I swore on the authority vested in me by the state of California that I would negotiate on his behalf with the district attorney and the governor and the Federal Bureau of Investigation in exchange for his cooperation. I got Chi to type it up on my letterhead, and I signed it with a flourish. Chi witnessed it, and I had Vladic sign and date it, too.

“Then that little turd says to me, ‘This doesn’t seem airtight.’

“I say, ‘Chi. You’re a notary, right?’ He starts to fumble it, says, ‘I don’t know where my stamp is.’ As soon as he says that, he remembers. Brenda has one of those old notary public stamps she uses as a paperweight.”

“I’ve seen it,” I said. “Weighs about three pounds. You push down on the handle and it crimps the paper. Makes a seal.”

“Exactly. Chi gets it from Brenda’s desk, signs his name, crimps the deal sheet, and pronounces it as good as gold. It’s a seal for the DMV circa 1939, but never mind. I make a copy, wave the original at Vladic, and tell him he gets the waiver when the two women are in our custody.”

I said, “ Jacobi. For God’s sake. Did he give them up?”

“Yes, my friends, he did. I called fire and rescue, and those guys chopped a big hole in the stage at Skin and pulled those poor women out from the secret compartment.”

Joe shouted, “We’ve got them? They’re alive?”