Frank Zafiro - And Every Man Has to Die

Browning barely reacted, but Renee noticed a flicker of irritation pass across his face, which was about as expressive as the veteran detective was likely to get.

“On the overall front, I think we need to initiate some surveillance. If we properly monitor the key players, we may develop enough probable cause for a wiretap and other devices and we should be able to build a chargeable RICO case.”

Crawford snorted slightly and shook his head.

The chief glanced over at him. “You take issue with this approach, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, I do, sir,” Crawford shot back, his voice confident. “I’ve been assigned to Investigations for a lot of years and I can tell you that working the case is the only way to work a case.” Crawford looked over at Payne. “These feds are happy to carry on surveillance until the second coming, but we don’t have the resources for that. Besides, I don’t think we have the time.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning these Russians aren’t going to sit on their hands waiting for the federal government to decide there’s sufficient probable cause to make some major RICO case. Those cases take years. We don’t even have weeks if we’re going to be successful in stemming the tide here.” He pointed to Renee. “You heard what she had to say. These Russkies don’t mess around. If we’re going to get a handle on this situation, it has to be sooner, not later.”

The chief glanced at Payne and waited for his reply.

“My recommendation stands,” the young agent said briskly. “We’ve built numerous solid cases based on short-term surveillance, and the agency is more than capable of adapting and moving quickly when a situation becomes more rapidly evolving.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Crawford. “I’ve noticed that.”

Payne looked askance at Crawford.

Crawford’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, you want examples?” He raised his thumb. “Ruby Ridge.” He raised his index finger. “Waco, Texas.”

“Waco was the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms,” Payne said.

“Federal is federal,” Crawford shot back. “And I think the reason you want to do surveillance is because that’s all you feds know how to do.”

“Surveillance is an effective tool,” Payne replied.

“I don’t disagree,” Crawford said. “But like I said, we don’t have the resources for it and we don’t have the time. Neither do you. You don’t even have enough resources to guard your own protected witness.”

“I might be able to break free some additional resources,” Payne began, but Crawford shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter, because like I said, we don’t have the time to build a case like the one you’re talking about.”

Payne leaned back in his chair and glared condescendingly at Crawford. Then he said, “Is Sergeant Morgan still the range master here?”

“What the hell has that got to do with anything?” Crawford asked.

“Humor me,” Payne said.

“He is,” Reott answered.

“Well,” Payne said, “I recall him to be a very gruff man of few words, and those words were often repeated. I assume this was to ensure that the students learned these lessons that he deemed critical to firing accurately and surviving in a gunfight.”

“Duh,” Crawford said. He glanced at Reott, Renee, and then the chief. “What’s the point?”

“The point is, that one of his more common statements was you can’t miss fast enough. Have you ever heard him say that, Lieutenant?”

“Sure,” Crawford said.

“And do you understand what that tenet means?”

Crawford leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Don’t talk to me like you’re a professor, you little shit. I don’t work for you.”

“But you do work for me,” the chief said. “And I’d like to hear the agent’s point.”

Crawford leaned back, staring daggers at Payne. The agent seemed more comfortable now that he had the chief’s support. “As I understand it,” he continued, “that means you should take enough time to be sure of your shot because you might only get one, and if you hurry the shot and you miss, it could be game over. Do I have that right?”

Crawford didn’t answer.

Payne smiled wanly. “I’ll take your silence as a yes. So, with that in mind I’m sure you can see how this philosophy applies to our current situation. If we rush this case-that is, if we fire too quickly-we will surely miss. And that would be a costly mistake.”

The room fell silent. Renee glanced from face to face, fascinated by the mixture of ego and talent in the room. She wondered sometimes why men who had reached powerful positions couldn’t divest themselves of their ego and cooperate to reach a common goal. But she’d come to the conclusion that their ego not only got them into powerful positions, but made them effective there.

The chief leaned back in his chair. “I appreciate all of you coming to this meeting. I’m going to accept the agent’s recommendation as a course of action.”

Crawford sighed, but the chief ignored him.

“Detective Browning, continue your investigation independent of any Bureau activity. Copy all your reports to Agent Payne.”

Detective Browning nodded. The chief’s gaze fell on to Agent Payne. “Agent, we will continue to provide an officer to the protection detail at the hotel. If you require any backup for emergency reasons during the course of your surveillance, please contact either Lieutenant Crawford or Captain Reott, depending on whether you would prefer uniform or investigative personnel. However,” he added, “we do not have sufficient resources to provide you with any other assistance in your surveillance activities.”

Payne’s expression, which had been noticeably gloating, fell. “No assistance?” he asked.

The chief shook his head. “We’re stretched thin enough just providing basic public safety services to the citizens of River City,” he said. “If you encounter a situation where you need immediate assistance, we’re certainly willing to help. If your investigation progresses to the point where you need help with any operational matters such as search warrants or arrest warrants, we’ll help you on a case-by-case basis.”

Payne sat speechless. Then he cleared his throat, nodded, and stood. “Thank you for your assistance, Chief,” he said in an official tone. “The Bureau appreciates it.”

“Anytime,” the chief answered.

Payne nodded again, turned, and walked briskly out of the room. Renee watched him go, forgetting that it was poor form to smile at another’s discomfort. She let the corners of her mouth do what they wanted to do.

Nothing wrong with a little schadenfreude , she thought.

1753 hours

Katie MacLeod sipped her glass of wine. It was a crisp white that tasted heavily of apple. Curious, she picked up the bottle and perused the label. It was nearly local, having been bottled in Wenatchee.

“So much for that little mystery,” she said to the empty room. Wenatchee was full of apple orchards. It made sense that they’d get into the wine business at some point. Or did it make sense that if they had a winery in the region, apples would find their way into the mix somehow?

Katie took another sip and swished it around before swallowing. It definitely tasted like there was some apple in it. No question. The bigger question was why in the hell she was trying to solve the grand mystery of what ingredients were in a glass of Wenatchee wine.

Maybe it was because it was her third glass with dinner. Katie shrugged and took another sip. This time she didn’t bother swishing. She swilled. Like mama, like daughter , she thought.

That brought a frown to her face. She was not like her mother. That woman drank every day for no reason other than… well, other than she simply drank every day. Katie was having a glass of wine with dinner.