James Swain - Bad News Travels

“What did you do?”

“I found out who the victims were, and talked to them. None of them were willing to press charges. I guess they were afraid of the consequences. That’s when we started running surveillance on the Sokolovs.”

“How did that go down?”

“The Sokolovs brought their ladies into Saint Augustine every week on a private plane, and rented cars privately through a company called Turo. They used one guy pretty regularly, so we went to his place, and planted a tracking device on his car, which let us watch where the Sokolovs went.”

“What was the guy’s name they rented the car from?”

Sykes searched his memory. “Arlen Childress.”

“What kind of car?”

“A Charger.”

So far, Sykes was getting a passing grade. “Keep talking,” she said.

“The Sokolovs did their business in Saint Augustine, but at night they stayed in Palatka. I guess it was safer for them that way,” the detective said.

“Where in Palatka?”

“The Gables Inn.”

“Dalton’s place.”

“Correct.”

“How did you get Dalton to use the Callyo burner phones?”

Sykes smiled thinly, pleased with himself. “The Sokolovs gave them to Dalton.”

“Come again?”

“The Sokolovs used burners to avoid being traced. They were buying them from a shop in Palatka, so we talked the store’s owner into stocking the Callyo phones, which had special bar codes on the packaging. When one of the Sokolovs purchased a burner, it was scanned at checkout, which let us know which phone they had. We contacted Callyo, and they activated the transmitter in that particular phone.”

“What was Dalton’s role?”

“He was the Sokolovs’ point person. He made sure they were taken care of when they came to town, the girls as well.”

“Taken care of how?”

“He kept rooms open, and brought takeout food to them. He also bought drugs for them. The girls were pretty doped up.”

Daniels ran her thumb up the side of the transcripts. She’d stayed up late poring through Dalton’s communications between the Russians and various drug dealers in the area, and knew that Sykes was telling the truth. But that didn’t explain why he hadn’t mentioned the operation when they’d talked in his office.

“Why didn’t you share this?” she asked. “Were they blackmailing you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

The detective had told his first lie. If he wasn’t careful, she’d slap handcuffs on him, and let him bake in a cell for a while. “There’s a videotape of my father in a board meeting at the hospital, looking on his cell phone at a video of you having sex with one of the Latinas. Why don’t you tell us about it?”

Sykes seemed to shrink before their eyes. He was sweating like he was about to be hanged from the gallows in the courtyard, and he spent a moment composing himself.

“I got trapped,” he said quietly. “My wife died a few years ago from cancer. It’s not easy being alone.”

She let an appropriate amount of time pass. “Go on,” she said.

“One of the Latinas was named Lissette Diaz. She came into headquarters one day, asking for help. She offered to turn on the Sokolovs if we’d put her into witness protection. It sounded intriguing, so I talked to her. Lissette lived in south Florida, and was a member of the Latin Kings. She and two other Latin Kings girls got arrested for shoplifting. While they were in the county lockup, they met Katya, and became friends.”

“What was Katya doing in jail?”

“Recruiting. Katya would get arrested on a minor charge, and spend a few days in the lockup, getting to know the other women. She offered to help them get work as strippers at a men’s club in Fort Lauderdale when they got out.”

“Which club?”

“I don’t remember. It was owned by a Russian gangster named Sergey.”

“Go on.”

“Lissette and her friends went to work for Sergey when they got out. They started as strippers, but soon were turning tricks. Lissette said it was crummy work, but the money was good. One day Katya introduced them to the Sokolovs, who told the girls they had a scam that would make them rich. Katya was moving to Saint Augustine to work in a museum and live in a house the Sokolovs had outfitted with hidden cameras. Once Katya got settled in, the girls would come up, and stay with her.

“Katya would take the girls to bars, and introduce them to rich men. The girls would seduce the old boys, take them to the house, and have sex. Every room had hidden cameras, so it really didn’t matter where they chose to do it. The videos would later be used for blackmail.

“Lissette was getting nervous. She didn’t think the Sokolovs were going to pay her, and might even kill her. So she came to the police. I decided she was being truthful, and we struck a deal. She would wear a wire, and collect evidence. The night before she was to start, we went to dinner. I got drunk, and she started rubbing my leg beneath the table. One thing led to another, and we snuck off to Palatka and had sex.”

Daniels shook her head in disbelief. It felt like the truth, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Sykes looked away, ashamed.

“Let me make sure I have this straight,” she said. “You had sex with an informant at the Gables Inn, which was owned by Dalton, who was under your surveillance.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Do you actually expect us to believe this?”

“It’s true. Look, I’m not proud of it. Lissette did the driving that night. She parked behind the inn, and we went in through the back door, and snuck upstairs and got naked. I didn’t realize where I was until the next morning.”

Sykes stared at the table. Avoiding eye contact was often a sign of deceitfulness. But there was also the chance he’d made an error in judgment that he now regretted. It wouldn’t be the first time a man had compromised himself for sex.

“When did they start blackmailing you?” she asked.

“The next day. Lissette was supposed to come to my office, and get wired up. She pulled a no-show, so I called her. She said, ‘Look in your inbox,’ and hung up. She’d emailed the video to me.” Sykes spent a moment looking at each of them. His gaze came to rest on Daniels. “I knew I was screwed. But I didn’t shut down the operation. I was going to build my case, and nail those assholes. Once they were in jail, I’d tell my boss about the video, and retire. It was the only honorable way out of the mess I’d created, and that’s the God’s honest truth.”

Sykes had fallen on his sword, and admitted his guilt. Most cops that got caught breaking laws didn’t take that route. Her opinion of him changed.

“Last question,” she said. “Why was your sex video sent to my father? What purpose did that serve?”

“I don’t know. But I can guess.”

“Go ahead.”

“The victims refused to pay. We heard the Sokolovs talking about it on the surveillance. Then the hands started appearing on their doorsteps. The victims caved, except your father. He threatened to go to the police. That was also on the surveillance. The Sokolovs must have sent him my video to silence him.”

“My father never came to you?”

“No, ma’am.”

“So the threat worked.”

“It would seem that way, yes.”

The sound was as distinct as a distant train whistle, filled with fury and unbridled rage. Jon came out of his corner, straight toward Sykes. Deceptively fast, he went around the bench, cuffed Sykes in the head, and sent him sprawling to the floor.

“You’re a god damn liar,” Jon roared.

It took three agents to pull Jon away. Sykes remained on the floor, shielding his head with his arms. The detective had not uttered a word in protest. Had he lied to them? Daniels certainly hadn’t seen it.