Joel Goldman - No way out

“You tell them, Jennings.”

He rose from the chair, standing behind it, putting distance between us, stalling, his lack of a ready answer more evidence that he was improvising, making it up as he went along.

“A gun dealer was robbed about a month ago. The thieves got away with sixty-three pieces. A man named Frank Crenshaw used one of those guns to kill his wife. Roni Chase shot Crenshaw but didn’t kill him. Someone else finished him off with a gun registered to Roni.”

He paused, took a deep breath, and looked at Simon and Lucy.

“We have reason to believe that Jack has been obstructing justice by interfering with ATF’s investigation of the robbery. Jack agreed to cooperate with ATF’s investigation in return for a favorable recommendation to the U.S. attorney, only he seems to have forgotten what it means to cooperate. I told him I’d keep our deal quiet, but he’s forced my hand.”

Lucy and Simon rolled their eyes. Kate cocked her head to one side, staring at Jennings. None of them said a word. Lucy broke the silence.

“Why bring it here?” she asked Jennings. “Why involve us?”

“Call it professional courtesy,” Jennings said. “No need for any of you to get painted with the same brush if you can persuade Jack to hold up his end of the deal.”

“Meaning,” Lucy said, “you want us to tell Jack we’ll cut him off unless he’s a good boy, and, if we don’t, you’ll gin up a special load of crap for us like the one you just dumped on him.”

“Like I said, call it professional courtesy.”

“So,” Simon said, “what about it, Jack? Are you going to tell the nice man what he wants to know or are you going to let him rain on us?”

“You guys have umbrellas?” I asked.

“Yep,” Lucy said.

“And hip waders if we need them,” Simon added.

“Keep them handy because right now, I’d say there’s a fifty-fifty chance of a shit storm.”

“Don’t push me,” Jennings said.

“Wouldn’t think of it. I’ll give you what I have, but I want something in return.”

Jennings took a step toward me. “You’re in no position to negotiate.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Your obstruction-of-justice fantasy won’t sell. I’m betting that you’re one bad break away from taking a long fall and I’m the only guy who can pull you back or push you off the ledge. So, what’s it going to be?”

The veins in his neck were popping, and the furies were gathering in my belly, both of us fighting to maintain control. He blinked first, letting out a breath and taking a step back.

“One shot. That’s all you get.”

My head snapped, but the rest of me held steady. “Let’s talk about Cesar Mendez.”

He nodded, his eyes narrow and wary. “Nuestra Familia.”

“They’ve got the concession on drugs in Northeast Kansas City and, unless you’ve been drunk on the job, you know that and you know that guns are a growth industry for Mexican gangs.”

“None of which is news,” he said. “Drug cartels are turning parts of Mexico into feudal states. They need guns, and they’re getting a lot of them from this country. They’ve got affiliates in all our major cities. Mendez has ties to NF in Mexico.”

“Which means he’s your number-one suspect in the gun robbery.”

“And I wasn’t drunk on the job.”

“Then you must have been totally in the bag when you came up with that crazy-assed story about me obstructing your investigation. So let’s talk about Brett Staley.”

“You talk. You’re the man with all the answers.”

“Brett’s father, Nick Staley, told me that Mendez was a regular at his grocery, that Brett bought drugs from him. Brett had to know that Mendez was the man to see if you wanted to buy a gun without all the paperwork. Frank Crenshaw was Brett’s cousin. He wanted a gun, but he had a record, which meant that he couldn’t fill out the paperwork, so Brett hooked him up with Mendez. When Crenshaw killed his wife, Mendez got worried that he would cut a deal with the prosecutor, so he gave Brett a choice. Pop his cousin or get popped. Brett asked Mendez for a gun, but Mendez wasn’t that stupid, so Brett stole the only gun he knew about, which happened to be Roni’s gun. How am I doing so far?”

“You’ve got my interest.”

“Here’s where it gets real interesting. Brett shows up at the hospital right after Crenshaw is killed. He says he’s there to meet with Roni, which Roni corroborates. Quincy Carter takes a natural interest in that coincidence, but he loses interest when you show up. Everybody goes home, and Brett drops off the radar. Now I’m just a disabled FBI agent who shakes when he should shoot, but even I can put that together.”

Lucy said to Jennings, “Me too. Brett Staley was your informant. You couldn’t let him be questioned in Crenshaw’s murder without exposing him and losing the chance to take Mendez down.”

“Head of the class, Luce,” I said. “It’s an old problem with no good way out. Your informant commits a crime. Arrest him, and your case falls apart. Cover for him, and your ass belongs to him as long as he lives; he needs money, dope, a woman, or a new address, you can’t turn him down. It’s worse than having a kid that stays in school forever or a wife that thinks shopping is an Olympic sport.”

Jennings’s nostrils flared, and Lucy pricked him with another needle.

“That’s no way to go through life.”

“No, it isn’t. Spend your career going after the bad guys, and some punk tries to take it all away from you. But, if the punk goes away, so does the problem.”

“Enter Mendez,” Kate said. “That’s why he was looking for Brett.”

Jennings swiveled toward Kate, giving her a hard look.

“Sorry, that’s one of those things I probably should have mentioned,” I said to him. “Kate and I stopped by Staley’s grocery yesterday, but it was closed. Mendez dropped by too, and he was looking for Brett. What did you do? Let Mendez know that Brett was working both sides of the street so he’d clean up your mess?”

“You’re full of shit,” Jennings said.

“You don’t believe that,” Kate said. “Your pupils are dilating, and the muscles around your mouth are turned down and are doing rapid-fire twitches. You’re frightened. The truth does that to people with something to hide.”

“And, that’s not the scariest part,” I said. “Turns out you and Mendez can’t find Brett, so you use Roni to draw him out. Get the charges against her dropped, so that he’ll think she made a deal to testify against him.”

“Assuming she’s guilty of anything, which is doubtful,” Lucy said.

“And,” I said to Jennings, “if Brett was willing to kill his cousin, you figure he won’t hesitate to take out his girlfriend, especially after he stole her gun, used it to commit murder, threw it away, and left it where the cops could find it so they’d go after her. Not a bad plan, especially since he figures that he can blackmail his godfather, the ATF agent, into a free pass if the cops get too close to him.”

“Except,” Lucy said, “Brett didn’t count on his godfather going rogue on him. So Jennings makes sure that Mendez keeps an eye on Roni until Brett comes after her, and, when he does, Mendez puts him away. If Roni goes down too, that’s a bonus because she’s the last of the loose ends. Jennings loses this round to Mendez, but at least no one is going to make him turn in his badge. Besides, going after gangs is nothing but a game of Whac-A-Mole. Put Mendez away today, and there’ll be another one just like him running the street corners tomorrow.”

“Okay, Miss Da Vinci Code, I get all that,” Simon said. “But where do you fit in, Jack?”