Electing to Murder

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“You’ve got about three hours to prepare. No sweat.”

Mac leaned back against a car, sipping a Starbucks coffee and devouring a slightly stale glazed donut that Kaufman and Herdine picked up. This was no longer simply a homicide investigation. Upon reflection, Mac realized it stopped being just a homicide investigation last night, when Judge Dixon became involved.

At that point, it became more—much more.

As a detective, Mac didn’t ever like to think there was something bigger and more important than the death of a human being. But the reality of what he and Wire discovered an hour ago made him realize there was so much more at stake.

The voting machine suggested election fraud which fell within the purview of the FBI and in particular the Civil Rights Division. The FBI would be taking over—and at this point, should be taking over.

This was one reason Wire was now picking up Dixon at the Bradley Center in Milwaukee and transporting him down to the storage locker. McRyan and Wire both worried about the FBI slow walking the case to get through the election. Wire worried that the director was three years into his first five-year term and he undoubtedly would be looking for another five years after that from the next occupant of the White House. The director wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side and Wire speculated he would tread carefully. Mac deferred to Wire on bureau politics but he thought it was unlikely the bureau would move slowly given what was in the locker and the letter. To be safe, Mac also took several photos of the letter and e-mailed copies to Pat Riley and Bobby Rockford in St. Paul with the notation, “I’m not making this up. This is what the case is about. Keep these in case the bureau decides to bury this.”

Wire took photos with her own camera so that the Judge could read the letter. Now there were copies in case of an attempt to cover up the discovery. There would be something to show the media if need be. The Judge’s presence would apply the necessary pressure to ensure their discovery would be properly and immediately investigated.

The early signs were promising.

Special agents from the FBI Milwaukee office arrived on the scene quickly and in force, with crime scene techs and agents. You could always count on the bureau to want to make a display of power when they wanted jurisdiction, hence the excess of dark suits hovering around the scene. Yet they were working with Kenosha and Milwaukee police and had acknowledged Mac’s presence. Crime scene people, both from the county and from the bureau were snapping photographs and logging evidence.

The Local Special Agent-In-Charge (AIC) for the bureau was special agent Margaret Berman and in charge she was. There was no doubt who everyone from the bureau would be answering to. Mac met with Berman briefly, giving her a run down on the situation and was reasonably impressed with her response. He called Wire and the Judge to clue them in on Berman.

Mac took in the scene as he placed a call to Ed Duffy.

“Duffy.”

“McRyan.”

“How’s Milwaukee?”

“A party town like always.”

“I saw the car chase and you hovering around the scene. Do tell?”

“Over beers at the pub, another time, I promise. I’m pressed for time. What can you tell me about Special Agent Margaret Berman?”

“Maggie?” Duffy laughed. “She’s known as the Little General. You’ll love her. She doesn’t take shit from anyone and can be a real ball breaker if you get on her bad side, so I might suggest you hide your usual contempt for us bureau types if I were you. Good news is she’s a hell of a cop and gets the job done. Oh, and one other thing.”

“What’s that?”

“She’s very ambitious. She doesn’t want Milwaukee to be her last stop. She’s very attuned to what it takes to climb the ladder.”

Mac thought about the case they were dealing with and an ambitious FBI agent could be good or bad. Good if she goes after the case. Bad if in her efforts to climb the FBI ladder, she would be willing to sack a sensitive case for a promotion. Duffy usually read people okay and if he thought Berman was the goods, he’d go with it. Plus it was consistent with at least his initial impression of the agent. He changed topics, “Ed, have you had any luck on the man we gave you pictures of?”

“Your call is good timing, I was getting ready to call you anyway,” Duffy replied. “The answer is yes and no and I can e-mail you some more information or have Riley do it if you’d like.”

“Yeah, get it to Riley and me. It may be helpful on both ends. But for now, I’ll take the quick version.”

“Okay, the guy you captured that killed McCormick, Montgomery and probably Stroudt at The Snelling, we don’t have an ID on him yet.”

“Nothing, huh?”

“Nada yet,” Duffy answered. “He’s dead, you sure it matters?”

“If I know who he was, that can still help me.”

“Okay,” Duffy answered. “As I look at the pictures you gave me, my impression is he looks southern European to me, not Spanish or Portuguese, more French, maybe northern Italian or even Sardinian. In any event, I mentioned that to my people in DC and they’re looking in those directions.”

“Okay, what about the other two guys? The blonds in the photos I handed you when we were at police HQ?”

“There I have some help for you, Mac,” Duffy replied eagerly. “The younger blond man we’ve identified as Viktor Domitrovich.”

“Russian?”

“Ukrainian. He’s a computer hacker and virus creator. He’s been a pain in the bureau’s butt from time to time over the last several years.”

“That fits,” Mac told Duffy what they’d just found and another person now was in the know on Martin and DataPoint, just in case. “Unbelievable,” was all Duffy could say in response, then got back on task “So we know who Domitrovich is, so that’s the good news.”

“The bad?”

“He’s dead. Kiev police found him this morning in his apartment with one between the eyes execution style. Sound familiar?”

“Indeed,” Mac answered. “Any witnesses? Anyone see anything?”

Duffy exhaled. “Nada.”

“Natch,” Mac replied disgustedly.

“There are other apartment units but nobody heard anything, so the thought is—silencer. Based on the condition of his body, they think he was done sometime yesterday.”

“So that guy is dead. What about the second guy?”

“That’s where it gets tricky. By the way, are you ever going to tell me where these pictures came from?” Duffy asked, still fishing.

“Sometime, maybe when I tell you about the car chase,” McRyan answered again evasively. “But not right now.”

“Okay, let me ask this a different way, these photos are enlargements. Will I ever get to see the whole picture?”

“Again, maybe when I tell you about the car chase,” Mac answered, evading. “Ed, there’s a great story behind this but I’m just not at liberty to tell it all yet.”

“Okay,” Duffy groaned, the disappointment obvious in his voice. “The picture you gave us shows about seventy-five percent of his face and for the most part he’s in the shadows so it is difficult to get a firm identification.”

“How about an un-firm one?”

“That I just got,” Ed answered. “We have a semi-retired agent in DC who used to work the Russia beat. He thinks the guy could be a Russian by the name of Anatoly Khrutov. That’s the good news.”

“And the bad?”

“He’s a nasty guy. Ex-KGB with some ties to Putin from back in the good old days. After the Cold War ended, he became something of a shadowy fixer in Russia. He puts people with people and gets paid for it.”

“Puts people with people?” Mac asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

“For example, he helps foreign businessmen get connected with the right ministers in the government. You need a drilling permit, he can help shepherd it through the bureaucracy. You want to open a business? He knew who could help you get the right permissions. He’s said to know where everyone’s skeletons are buried so he can apply leverage to get done what he wants done. He wasn’t cheap either, very expensive.”

“Was?” Mac said. “Is he out of the game now?”

“Right, at least that’s what our people thought,” Duffy replied. “He’s been dormant for a number of years. These days, his nest is so feathered he’s thought to be largely retired, but if this is him, it looks as if the bear came out of hibernation.”

“For one last big score,” Mac answered.

“Maybe,” Ed answered. “The odd thing is he typically sticks to his home turf, Mac. When he was active, he didn’t often venture outside of Russia and when he did, he kept close to home, eastern Europe mostly. It was rare he ever even went into western Europe, let alone come to the States.”

Mac gave what Duffy said some thought, took a sip of his coffee and an idea came to him. “Ed, do we know who from the United States used Khrutov in Russia?”

“I don’t off hand, but I can look into that, Mac. Why?”

“If it was rare he ever left his home turf, then he wouldn’t have done it for just anyone. It had to be someone special, someone he’d done work with before, probably more than once.”

“That’s a good thought,” Duffy replied agreeably. “I’ll get back to my contacts in DC and see what I can find.”

“Good. Keep on this Russian and let me know if you find anything, and listen, I really appreciate your help on this.”

“Are you kidding, Mac? A case like this? It’s fun to be in the ballgame, man. I’m on this.”

That brought a smile to Mac’s face. This was a hell of a case.

He made another call.

“Yeah,” the voice growled.

“You leave me hanging and now I’m left to investigate with this ex-FBI chick. Some partner you are.”

“Two things. First, f*ck you. Second, at least she’s easier on the eyes than me,” Lich replied and Mac howled in laughter. His partner sounded fine although he reported he was very sore and very pissed off. “You find the bastards behind this yet?”

“We’re getting closer. This case is crazy. Get this …” Mac spent five minutes giving his partner the rundown of the day’s events from Checketts, to Darwin Ring and DataPoint, Ginger Bloom and the chase, and then finishing with the locker.

His partner had one piece of advice. “Watch your back, Mac.”

“I always do,” McRyan answered as Wire pulled back into the parking lot with Dixon and Sally. “Listen. I gotta go. I’ll buzz you tomorrow.”

Mac hung up and Sally came walking quickly to him and gave him a hug and a kiss. “Glad to see you in one piece,” she whispered in his ear, a touch of worry in her voice.

“I’m good. Wire and I were just spectators with a front row seat on that car chase.”

“Uh huh,” was his girlfriend’s skeptical and knowing reply. “The whole calling the move a ‘Bullitt’ was a nice touch by the way. Stealing from my favorite cop movie? Really?”

“Wire talks too much.”

“Mac, which one is Special Agent Berman?” the Judge asked, bailing Mac out for now.

Mac pointed to a stout woman with short brown hair wearing a black trench coat.

“Watch this,” Wire said with a knowing look.

Dixon approached Berman and extended his hand. Berman recognized Dixon and smiled when he introduced himself. They chatted for a minute and then the two of them walked away from the storage locker to have some privacy and engaged in a discussion for nearly five minutes. It looked like an agreeable conversation. Then Berman received a phone call. The call lasted a couple of minutes and then Berman spoke for about a minute and then the two of them shook hands and Dixon came walking back to the group.

“So?” Sally asked.

“FBI Director Mitchell called while we were over there.”

“Convenient timing,” Mac remarked, sensing a setup, a good kind of setup.

“Perhaps,” the Judge replied with a wry smile. “In any event, we’re putting everything on a plane here and going to DC. The director wants to be briefed directly on this. If the briefing goes the way I hope it goes, the director, probably in eventual consultation with the attorney general, will order an immediate mass review of all DataPoint voting machines for this virus mentioned in the letter. While in transit to DC, the secretaries of state for Iowa, Wisconsin and Virginia are going to be put on alert.”

“Which is what you want, right?” Sally asked.

“It is,” the Judge answered and then looked to Mac and Wire. “I think you two have discovered what this is all about and have explained why all these people were killed, why our Sebastian was killed. Well done. Well done indeed.”

McRyan and Wire both nodded modestly. The magnitude of what their investigation uncovered suppressed any urge to express happiness. “Now you two have a plane to catch with the FBI,” the Judge added and led them walking back towards the Acadia. “And Mac?’

“Yes, Judge?”

“You’re going to give the briefing to the director as soon as you get to Washington.”

That stopped Mac in his tracks. The Judge looked back with a mischievous smile noting the suddenly nervous look on the otherwise unflappable detective’s face. He doubted McRyan was someone who was often put back on his heels.

Dixon walked back to Mac and put a hand on his shoulder. “Son, nobody knows this case better than you—nobody. Wire can’t give the briefing because she’s been working for me—you haven’t. She can’t be there, nor can I. The bureau is just getting up to speed on this and they don’t know the ‘ins and outs’ of it. All you have to do is run the case down from beginning to end. FBI Director Mitchell will likely ask you some very pointed questions. Give him direct answers, just like you always do.” Dixon patted him hard on the back. “You’ve got about three hours to prepare. No sweat.”

“Riiiiight,” Mac muttered as they walked to the car.