Silent Night

THIRTY THREE

Ten minutes later the wounded girl was on her way to Murray Hill Medical. The CSU were up on the third floor, snapping photographs of the crime-scene and Jacobs’ body and trying to establish where exactly the shot had come from. The three neo-Nazis who’d come after Archer had been taken outside and bundled into several police cars. None of them were saying anything. Whilst Jorgensen and Marquez were downstairs talking with backup, Archer and Josh were up on the roof, watching the CSU work. Shepherd moved up the last flight of stairs and walked over to join them.

‘How are we doing, sir?’ Josh asked.

‘Every cop in Manhattan is looking for Sway and Rourke. We’ll get them.’ Shepherd looked at Archer’s nose. ‘You OK?’

‘That bitch Drexler tagged me. Didn’t see it coming.’

‘Sure it was her?’

‘Positive.’

‘She must have got out in the stampede after the shot. We missed her.’

The three men looked over at Jacob’s body.

‘Shit,’ Shepherd said. ‘There goes our lead.’

‘And we’re no closer to getting our hands on that virus,’ Josh said.

Archer grabbed a bottle of water from a table and poured it over his hands, washing off some dried blood, his and the girl’s.

‘Any word from Hendricks or the ATF?’ he asked.

Shepherd shook his head. ‘Not yet. They’re all in place. We’ve got more people watching that camp than a damn soccer game. This virus sample has to show up somewhere tonight.’

Suddenly, Marquez’s voice came up on each man’s earpiece. ‘Sir?’

‘Yes?’

‘Good news.’

‘What is it?’

‘A man was just picked up and arrested ten blocks from here.’

She paused.

‘It’s Finn Sway.’



‘Take these off me, pigs!’ snarled Sway, his hands cuffed in front of him. He’d been dumped in the back of a Bureau Ford Explorer outside the club. Marquez, Archer, Josh and Jorgensen were standing there watching him, a street officer in the car beside Sway to make sure he didn’t try to escape.

‘Where’s the rifle?’ Marquez asked.

‘What rifle?’

‘You’re a bad liar.’

‘What the hell are you talking about?’

‘Don’t waste our time. Where is it?’

‘Shut your mouth, bitch. I don’t deal with your kind.’

‘HEY!’ Jorgensen said, pointing at Sway. ‘Cool it.’

Sway glared back at him. Standing next to Marquez, Archer studied Sway. Although they were yet to confirm that he was the shooter he certainly fit the profile. Peterson had given an accurate description of the guy. He was tall, six-three on the file, and was dressed in blue jeans and a thick cotton coat. He wasn’t wearing a hat, but Archer recognised the distinctive short sides and long-top haircut from his ATF file.

‘What the hell is going on?’ Sway asked.

‘A man was just shot dead on the roof of this nightclub with a rifle,’ Archer told him. ‘And we know you were coming to meet him.’

‘No I wasn’t.’

‘Bullshit,’ Marquez said. ‘You’re in the area ten minutes after the shooting.’

‘So?’

‘Damn coincidence, isn’t it?’

‘Guess that’s exactly what it is.’

He looked at Archer.

‘You got a murder weapon, pretty boy?’

‘Not yet.’

‘What time was the guy shot?’

Marquez rolled her eyes and answered. ’10 o’clock.’

Sway smiled. ‘Then I couldn’t have killed him. I wasn’t even in this part of the city. I only just got down here. Then you guys sprang these cuffs on me like a goddamn bear-trap.’

‘Where were you?’ Jorgensen asked.

‘At a coffee place uptown.’

‘You’re going to have to be more specific than that.’

‘Shit, it was the green one. Starbucks.’

‘What time?’

‘I don’t know exactly. But I was there around 10. Go ask the people who work there. They saw me.’

‘Which Starbucks was it?’

‘The one by Port Authority. That big-ass bus terminal.’

‘Corner of 39 and 8,’ Josh confirmed.

‘So if you weren’t the shooter what are you doing in this part of town?’ Archer asked.

‘Taking a look around, man. Is that against the law?’

‘Why are you in New York?’

‘Visiting. I’ve never been here before. After all this shit, I’m never coming back. I’m not lying. Go ask the people at that coffee place. Hell, they must have cameras. Check them.’

Marquez looked at Sway, then walked away to one side with Archer, Josh and Jorgensen. Beside them, the gurney carrying the black body-bag with Jacobs inside rattled as it was pushed off the sidewalk and onto the street, rolling towards the back of a waiting ambulance. Beside it, Shepherd finished talking with a CSU investigator then walked over to his team.

‘From the trajectory, the team upstairs think the shot came from that building there,’ he said, pointing at what looked like an apartment building about a hundred and fifty yards from the club. ‘CSU and detectives are already over there clearing the place.’

‘Any sign of a rifle, sir?’ Marquez asked.

Shepherd shook his head. ‘Nothing.’ He looked over at Sway, who was glowering in the back of the Ford. ‘Has he talked?’

‘Yeah. He’s claiming that he was uptown at the time of the shooting.’

‘Whereabouts?’

‘A Starbucks.’

‘You got the specific one?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Josh said. ‘It’s opposite Port Authority.’

‘Anything in his pockets?’

‘No vial if that’s what you mean.’

‘OK. You and Arch head up there. Ask the serving staff. If they have CCTV, check it. We’ll know within twenty minutes if he’s lying or not.’

The two men nodded and walked off. Heading towards their car, Josh turned to Archer.

‘I’m driving.’

*

Parking around Midtown New York was always a nightmare and never more so than at Christmas. However, being NYPD had certain advantages and that night it meant that Josh and Archer could pull up to the kerb right outside the coffee shop. Archer felt the icy wind the moment he got out of the car and was glad that he’d grabbed his coat before they headed off. This was three or four layer weather and he’d lost his hoodie using it as a tourniquet on the girl’s arm. He headed straight for the entrance with Josh.

Given that they were in plainclothes and their side-arms were mostly concealed, the barista behind the counter didn’t immediately realise they were NYPD. It was much warmer in here and the two detectives relished the change in temperature as they stepped up to the counter. A young blond girl dressed in the standard green apron and black hat was waiting for them by the till.

‘Good evening. What can I get you?’ she asked with a smile.

It faded slightly when she saw Archer’s busted nose.

Josh showed his badge. ‘We’re with the NYPD. We have some questions.’

Further along the counter, a woman in a white shirt had seen them arrive. She overheard Josh and walked over to join them.

‘What’s going on, Kelly?’ she asked.

‘You the manager?’ Archer asked.

She nodded cautiously.

‘Relax,’ he said. ‘You’re not in any trouble. We’re here about a customer who claimed he was here earlier.’

‘A customer? What did he do?’

‘Can’t tell you that. But he’s saying he was in here at 10pm. Were you on duty then?’

The woman nodded. ‘I wasn’t on counter though. That was Jay. You just caught him. He’s out back getting changed.’

She turned to the barista.

‘Go grab him, Kelly.’

Kelly nodded and walked down the counter, disappearing out of sight.

‘What does this guy look like?’ the manager asked.

Josh pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. On the page were four prison mug shots of Sway, Rourke, Wicks and Drexler. Each member of the team had taken a printout of the four suspects before they left the Bureau earlier. Josh folded it so only Sway’s shot was visible, then passed it over. The woman took it in her hands and examined it closely.

‘Recognise him?’

She frowned, then shook her head.

‘Afraid not. He’s definitely not a regular. Jay’ll be the one who can help you.’

Down the counter the guy called Jay appeared, a tall black guy who looked like a college student. He’d changed out of his uniform, wearing jeans and a brown leather coat. He walked towards them and Archer showed him his badge.

‘What’s going on?’

‘Sir, we need to ask you a few questions concerning a customer who was in here almost an hour ago.’

‘OK.’

The manager passed Jay the sheet and pointed at Sway. ‘Do you recognise him?’

Jay looked down.

He nodded straight away.

‘Yeah. I do. That guy was in here.’

Archer glanced at Josh. ‘You’re sure?’

‘Yeah. He had a real strong accent. Sounded like a Southern boy.’ He looked up over his shoulder, and pointed at a camera mounted on the wall facing the counter. ‘He had the camera in his face too. Check the tapes.’

‘I think we need to,’ Josh said.

The manager nodded, and stepped away from the counter.

‘Follow me.’



Five minutes later, Archer walked out from the security room and pulled his cell phone. The call connected to Marquez downtown.

‘It’s Archer. You’re not going to believe this. Our boy is telling the truth.’

‘What?’

‘We’ve a sworn witness who says he was in here the same time as the shooting. He’s also on the CCTV. I just watched the tape. It’s him. He even looks up at the menu-board and you can clearly see his face.’

‘Shit.’

‘We matched the time. He was here at the exact same moment that Jacobs went down. His story checks out.’

‘But we need to take him back to the Bureau, right?’

‘We don’t have anything to charge him with. We don’t have any proof that he has the virus or knows where it is. He’s got nothing incriminating on him.’

He paused.

‘We have to let him go.’

‘OK, I’ll tell Shepherd. He’s going to be pissed.’

Archer ended the call, then looked back as Josh joined him.

‘Damn it. I thought we had him.’

‘Me too.’

‘Shit.’

‘So now what?’

Archer checked his watch. ‘The club situation is being handled. Jacobs is dead. Sway’s off the hook. No sign of Rourke anywhere. I guess we wait on orders from Shepherd or pray that the virus shows up at the campsite.’

Josh nodded. He glanced at the barista and manager who were just stepping out from the tape room.

‘You guys still serving?’