Russell Andrews - Hades

"Hades and Ali. That's her payback to you."

"I think it might be, yes."

"Then what do they mean?"

Justin shook his head. "I don't have any fucking idea," he said.

He spent nearly two more hours with Agent Fletcher and Billy DiPezio back at Billy's office at the station house. First they made him go over his movements so they could verify Justin's whereabouts every second of the day from the moment he left Wanda's car. They examined every word that Justin could remember about his conversation with Wanda. They hammered away at the meaning of the words "Hades" and "Ali" with absolutely no luck or new insight. They went over every possible thing Justin could add to their understanding of Wanda's murder, and Justin was as cooperative as he could possibly be. He told them everything, except for one detail. He made no mention of his meeting with Bruno Pecozzi that afternoon. He wasn't sure why. It wasn't just to protect the big man, although he didn't feel any great desire to simply throw Bruno to the wolves with no cause. The truth is, he thought there might be cause. Wanda had insinuated that Bruno was playing some kind of role in all this. Justin decided he needed to know what that role was before he gave up any more information.

Somewhere around 12:30 a.m. Fletcher finally told him he could go. As he was leaving, Billy told him that they'd speak soon. Fletcher said, "Wanda's advice was solid."

"About not getting involved," Justin said.

"That's right."

"I'll keep it in mind," Justin said.

"But you're not going to follow it, are you?"

"No," Justin said, "I'm not."

"Then I need a favor," Agent Fletcher said.

"You want me to do the FBI a favor?"

"All right," Fletcher said. "Let's consider it an offer more than a favor."

"I'm listening."

"Work with us."

Justin tried not to let his surprise show. "I think my hearing must be bad. You want to repeat that?"

"Wanda Chinkle was by the book. She was as straight as it got. But there are things that don't add up here. That aren't strictly by the book."

"Like what?"

"You met Agent Korkes. Well… you did more than just meet him, but let's save that. Wanda was his superior and she told him to contact you off the record. She didn't want the Bureau to know she was talking to you. Why was that?"

"She told me I came with a lot of baggage. That the Bureau wouldn't be happy that she was talking to me."

"That's bullshit," Fletcher said.

"It's what she told me."

"Yeah, yeah, I believe it's what she said. But it's total bullshit. You've had some run-ins with us, yeah, and maybe you've stuck it to us once or twice. But you think we actually go around thinking 'ooohhh, big, tough, scary cop from little tiny town on Long Island, we better stay away from him'? You don't have to answer, I'll tell you right now: No, we don't. You're not on our radar."

"So why would she say it?"

"You said she knew you well, knew how to manipulate things. I think she was jerking you around again. She tells you to stay away from something, what's that do to you? I mean as the big, tough, scary cop that you are."

"All right. I get your point," Justin said. "She tells me to stay away, she knows that's not going to work."

"No. It means you're going to do the opposite: jump right into the center of the action."

"But if she wanted help, wanted me to do something, why wouldn't she just ask? Why the secrecy and the manipulation? It's an investigation I was already involved in."

"I'm not sure. But if I had to guess, it's 'cause there was something she didn't want us to know. Her reports on this investigation were not detailed. She had sources we weren't aware of. She was working on her own, which wasn't what Wanda did. So I'd say there was something she was worried about internally."

"Like what?"

"Don't know. Maybe leaks. Maybe political bullshit. We have a lot of ways we fuck up."

Justin was starting to like Agent Fletcher. Well, no, he thought, that was an exaggeration. But he was beginning to trust him a little bit. "So what is it you want me to do?"

"Wanda was a great agent. And she thought there was something you could do that we couldn't. I don't have a clue what that is, but whatever it is, why don't we work together and try to find out?"

"Work directly with you?"

"Partly. But I'm going back to D.C. We'll assign an agent to partner with you." When Justin hesitated, Agent Fletcher barreled on. "You asked Billy here to give you some kind of bullshit title so you could link yourself to the murder investigations. Well, I'm offering you more than that. I'll give you FBI backing. And we'll make it clear to anyone who gets in your way that you are working with us and have our support."

"That does have a certain amount of appeal."

"Yeah," Fletcher said. "I once met Larry Silverbush. I thought it might."

"Do I get some kind of cool badge?"

"I guess this conversation's over," Fletcher said. "We'll have an agent contact you over the next couple of days. And I know it goes against your nature, but this time try to play well with others, okay?"

Agent Fletcher stuck out his hand and Justin shook it. Even Billy looked impressed by the result of the conversation.

Justin went home, found his parents waiting up. He told them what had happened to Wanda. He saw his mother go pale, saw his father's hand go to her back to pat her, to comfort her, to support her. He saw his mother regroup quickly. Both of his parents told him to go on, so without giving them many details, he told them that he thought Wanda's death might be connected to what had happened to Ronald. Possibly even to what had happened to Evan Harmon. He told them to say nothing to Vicky, told them, in fact, to say nothing whatsoever to anyone. He told them he was exhausted and needed to get some sleep, said they should do the same. And he told them he'd be gone by the time they woke up the next morning, that he'd be on his way back to East End Harbor.

His mother kissed him on the top of the head. His father shook his hand. They both went off to bed.

As tired as he was, Justin didn't go right to sleep. He sat in his parents' living room for another hour or so, drinking two large snifters of brandy and piecing together the day's events, replaying them over and over again in his mind.

At three in the morning, he called Vicky LaSalle. As soon as she answered the phone, he knew that he'd awakened her. The thick sound of sleep was in her throat.

"Vicky, it's Jay. I'm sorry if I woke you up."

"What time's it?"

"It's late. It's too late to have called but-"

"Took a pill. Took a pill to sleep."

"I'm sorry. That's good. You need sleep. But I wanted to let you know that I'm going home tomorrow. Back to New York. But I had to tell you… Seeing you… Jesus, you look so much like her… It was like talking to her again…"

"You're drunk." She sounded more alert now.

"No. I'm not."

"Been drinking."

"Yeah. I've been drinking, but I'm not drunk. I just want you to know… I know what this means to you. I know what you're feeling. I'm not going to let you down. I'm not going to let her down again. It's important to me. You're important to me. I just want you to know that."

He waited for a response. There was none. It took him a few seconds to realize that she'd hung up. He had no idea what she'd heard or hadn't heard. And he realized it didn't really matter.

Justin went to bed a little after three-thirty. Woke up at six, showered, and headed for the airport, where he'd arranged for a small private plane to take him directly back to the East Hampton Airport, just a ten-minute drive from his home in East End Harbor.

At nine-fifteen on Sunday morning, he walked into his East End house.

At nine-twenty, he called Leona Krill, told her he was no longer on suspension because he was resigning from the East End Harbor PD. She actually tried to argue him out of it, but he told her that he already had another job. He didn't tell her what it was, just told her that she and Silverbush would be seeing him around.