Jason Pinter - The Mark

Mauser asked, “Is she an old girlfriend?”

“Maybe a friend, but not from college. She’s in law school at NYU, studying child advocacy, lives in the dorms down there.”

“You checking her apartment’s call log?”

“Already done,” Denton said. “No matches to our man. Cross-checked Parker’s residences at Cornell, so far we’re coming up empty.”

Mauser rubbed the stubble on his chin. He needed a shave badly, needed sleep and a hot shower. He’d hoped to have Parker by now. Every moment John Fredrickson’s killer lived ate away at Joe from the inside. The hunt steeled his resolve while gnawing away at everything else.

“Davies…is it possible Parker was seeing her on the side? Taking a little extracurricular pokey without Mya Loverne knowing?”

“Doubtful,” Denton said, pouring a cup from the pot. He took a sip and grimaced, leaving the cup for dead on the table-top.

Denton continued. “Let’s look at it from Parker’s perspective. You’re new to the city, looking for your career break. David Loverne’s someone you want on your side, or at least not want to piss off. Would you cheat on his daughter? You might get your rocks off for a few minutes, but if Daddy found out about it you’d have trouble hailing a cab without getting a summons, and you can bet any public defender assigned to him will give him a defense worthy of the worst bus-stop ambulance chaser.”

Mauser thought for a moment, then said, “Check Parker and Davies’s phone records going back the last five years. Parker’s desperate, grasping at straws. There’s a chance he reached out to Davies because she was the only option.”

“There’s something else,” Denton said.

“Yeah?”

“We ran a trace on all credit cards registered to Amanda Davies and Harriet and Lawrence Stein. New purchases, etc.-”

“And?” Mauser said, failing to keep the anxiousness out of his voice.

“We got a hit on an E-Z Pass going through the Holland Tunnel at nine twenty-seven this morning.”

Mauser furrowed his brow, surprised. “They’re going to Jersey?”

Denton seemed to change his mind about the coffee, picking it off the table and taking a deep swallow. He grimaced again.

“God, this is some terrible shit. It’s doubtful Jersey’s their final destination, but if you’re headed to St. Louis to visit the lovely Stein family, the Holland Tunnel’s how you leave the city. Right now all we can do is keep track of the E-Z Pass. If we get more hits or Amanda makes any credit card purchases we’ll be on top of it. If it looks like she’s heading to St. Louis, we’ll be on the first flight out there.”

“Sounds awfully sketchy,” Mauser said.

“That’s ’cause it is.” Denton stood, picked up his nearly full cup and tossed it in the trash. “Fucking worst coffee I’ve ever had.”

He sat back down and looked at Mauser. Denton’s eyes seemed to be searching for truth without asking for it, as if waiting for Mauser to shed some light he hadn’t been able to find on his own. Mauser stayed stone-cold, giving away nothing. Denton was in this for his career, nothing more. And while Joe could use that to his advantage, the case was personal to him and him alone.

“So,” Denton said, breaking the silence. “We haven’t talked about this, but how are you holdin’ up?”

Mauser shook his head, ran his fingers through his hair. His eyes were bloodshot, clothes so heavy they weighed him down. Sleep was out of the question.

His brother-in-law. One of his best friends-one of his only friends-was cold on a slab in a basement. His heart punctured by a bullet, shot by a stranger. A man who didn’t know his family, didn’t know Linda. A goddamn junkie whose only use to society was as an organ donor.

Mauser could feel hatred coursing through his veins, lighting his nerve endings until he was ready to explode. But he held it in, let the rage out through his gnashed teeth and clenched fists. Mauser knew as well as anyone that you didn’t work smarter when fueled by anger. Mistakes would get in the way. Precision over passion.

Let the pain boil just below the surface. Let it simmer awhile. You’ll know when it’s time to let it boil over.

Joe stood up, tucked Parker’s file underneath his arm. “I want a plane on standby. If Davies gets within a hundred miles of St. Louis, I want to be in the air in half an hour.”

“You got it,” Denton said, a smile on his face. “Anything else?”

“The Steins’ residence in St. Louis. I want phone taps.”

“Done.”

Mauser said, “As of right now, Amanda Davies is our number-one lead. Keep a lock on her E-Z Pass, it’s accepted on every major highway in this country, if they used it once they’ll use it the whole trip. But we can’t assume anything. I don’t want to end up in St. Louis, find out he was wishing her happy birthday and managed to catch a ferry to the Azores. Parker’s got a limited supply of cash so keep his credit cards active in the event he tries to hit an ATM.”

“What about that package the Guzmans mentioned? The drugs? Christine Guzman said he stole a bag of dope, carried it out in some sort of briefcase or knapsack. She said he left the crime scene with it last night.”

“We don’t even know if he still has it. Parker could have stashed it anywhere, a train station or bus terminal locker,” Mauser said. “The dope is secondary. Once we have him, we’ll find it.”

Denton didn’t seem relieved by this. “John was killed over that dope, Joe. Maybe if we find it we’ll get a lead on Parker.”

Mauser shook his head.

“Right now, we’re looking for Henry Parker, not a fucking dime bag. We’ll find the dope, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, Elvis, JFK and any other shit he stole once we get him. But right now Parker has precious few friends and seems smart enough not to give himself away. We’re going to have to be creative.”

Denton nodded, headed for the door. Mauser’s arm lashed out, catching the younger man’s shoulder. Denton whirled around, caught by surprise. Mauser’s grip tightened, feeling Denton’s bones shift beneath the skin. “But make no mistake. Right now, Amanda Davies is a possible accomplice to murder. If I think they’re heading west, I want to be in the air before the next commercial break. If anyone gets to Henry Parker before we do…”

Denton’s face paled. Mauser could tell he understood.

“They won’t,” he said. “We’ll be there first.”

When Denton left the room, Joe locked the door and picked up the phone. He took a long breath, felt a weight descending behind his eyelids. He dreaded this, dreaded every second speaking to her. Parker had done this to him. He’d made the simple activity of talking to his sister an event to be feared.

After a moment, when his breathing slowed, he dialed. Part of him hoped nobody would pick up. Out of sight, out of mind. His heart fluttered when he heard her voice answer with a tired, “Hello?”

“Linda. It’s Joe.”

“Joe,” his sister said, her voice heavy. She sounded sedated. “How are you?”

“I’m okay, Lin.”

“It’s good to hear your voice, Joe. These people won’t stop calling. Newspapers and reporters. Goddamn vultures.”

“Maybe you should book a hotel for a few days,” Mauser said. “The department will pick up the tab.” He could almost hear her shaking her head on the other end.

“The kids need to be able to reach me. I don’t want to hide. I don’t want to upset their lives any more than they already have been.”

“The kids’ll be fine, Lin. You need to take care of yourself.” He heard a wistful laugh on the other end. Then Linda began to sob. Joe felt his cheeks go flush as his sister wept for her lost husband.