The Bricklayer

THIRTEEN

WHEN VAIL AND KATE WALKED INTO THE TECH ROOM, TOM DEMICK was on the telephone, apparently with one of his contacts. He looked up and pointed at the pad of paper in front of him. A single phone number was written on it. “Yeah, Tony, I appreciate it.” He wrote down an address. “Friday, right, and this time I’m buying…. Okay, but I’m buying the liquor.” He hung up and tore the sheet of paper off the pad. “The call to Bertok’s phone came from West Hollywood, a Laundromat, less than a mile from the subway tunnel.”
“Hopefully it was him,” Vail said. “Not exactly a home address, but it’ll give us a place to start.”
“Do you want me to go out there with you?” Demick asked.
“Thanks, Tom, we’ll take care of it,” Vail said. “Can you get all the outgoing calls from the Laundromat phone for the last two weeks?”
“That shouldn’t be a problem, but there’ll probably be a bunch. I should have them by the time you get there.”
“For now, can we keep this between the three of us?” Vail asked.
“The three of us?” Demick said. He leaned closer to Vail in mock confidence. “You do realize that one of us is a deputy assistant director. Who exactly are we keeping it secret from?”
“Okay, let’s keep it between the two of us.”


ONCE THEY WERE IN the car, Kate said, “I know you were kidding back there, but you don’t actually think I’d ever give you up, do you?”
“I’m just passing through your career. You’d have to be a fool not to.”
“Then I’m a fool.”
“Right now we’re in a vacuum, operating with impunity. The director knows we’re doing something less than legal, and he says do whatever you have to do to protect the public. Breaking rules becomes noble, even heroic, so whatever I do, you’re on my side. But what if you’re suddenly standing in front of a federal grand jury and they ask you about committing illegal acts. And don’t think they’ll be concerned about the common good. Are you going to perjure yourself and risk prosecution?” When she didn’t say anything, he continued. “You’re not a fool.”
“I am still on your side.”
“I know you are, but the problem is only a fool can be just on my side. So sometime in the near future I may have to do something alone.”
She stared ahead in silence. “Has that always been effective for you?”
“What?”
“When you feel yourself getting too close to someone, you treat them like they’re not worth your time.”
“Unfortunately, that tactic doesn’t seem to work as well as it once did.”
“I’m not amused.”
Vail pulled to the curb. “This is the address.”
When she still didn’t say anything, he said, “Isn’t one of my assets being able to break rules without anyone knowing, so everyone else can swear on a stack of Bibles? You can’t be in on all the good stuff while innocent of all the bad stuff, because the good and bad are usually inseparable.”
“Okay, okay. It just seems like you’re a little too eager to keep everyone outside the great wall of Vail, and by ‘everyone’ I mean me.”
He laughed. “You think too much of me. I’m no white knight. I do what I do mainly because I have a pathological need to settle all scores, and in spades. Take those two bank robbers. I had them disarmed and all but unconscious, but I threw both of them through the windows for good measure. Anyone who would do what they did to that poor old woman they threatened to shoot deserved a few moments of someone treating them without boundaries. So, yes, I do have issues.”
“Meaning you’re blaming your father.”
“I can blame him only for getting me started. I’m the one holding on to it. I guess I like the way it drives me.”
“That’s your rationalization for not trusting anyone?”
“I’ll tell you what, from now on I’ll do my best to trust you without reservation.”
Kate knew how difficult a concession that was for him, how difficult any concession was for Steve Vail. “And I’ll do my best not to give you up to the federal grand jury,” she said.
They both got out of the car and went inside. The place was empty. The only sound was from one of the dryers, which hummed as a load tumbled inside, a button occasionally clicking against the metal drum. Next to the folding table, two pay phones were mounted side by side on the wall. Vail checked the numbers and pointed at the one on the right. “This is the one used to call Bertok’s machine.” He took a step back and looked around. Kate sat down on one of the plastic chairs bolted to the floor and waited. Vail’s eyes finally went back to the tumbling dryer. “What time did Demick say that call was made?” he asked her.
She glanced at her watch. “Almost two hours ago.”
“The load in the dryer is large, and the way it sounds, it’s dry. Maybe its owner was here two hours ago. Let’s wait.” She waved her agreement, and he sat down.
A couple of minutes later, the dryer snapped to a halt, and almost as if on cue, a customer pushed open the front door. A woman in her sixties, she walked carefully by Vail, giving him a suspicious glance. As she eased the dryer door open, he said, “Excuse me.” He stood up and drew his credentials, opening them for her inspection.
“FBI? I’m washing clothes, not money.”
Vail smiled appreciatively. “You’re pretty quick.” He could see how she would have been very attractive as a young woman. Mischief glinted in her eyes, and there was still a trace of Midwest in her speech, but not enough to tell on which side of the Mississippi it had been ingrained.
“Do you like fast women, Agent Vail?”
“What man doesn’t…?”
“Anna.”
He turned to Kate. “Do you have that photo?” She handed him Bertok’s credential photo and smiled at the woman. “Hi, I’m Kate Bannon.”
“You’re FBI too?”
“Actually, she’s my boss,” Vail said.
She examined Kate’s face. “You have a good look. I mean photographically. The camera would love it. You have that skin that glows on film. Even that scar seems to work.” She leaned in toward Kate and, in a loud-enough whisper for Vail to hear, said, “The help looks pretty good. Hope you’re taking advantage of your position.” She leaned back and smiled at Vail, the idea of shocking him dancing in her eyes.
“Unfortunately, she’s not,” Vail whispered back. He held up the photo of Bertok. “Have you seen this man in here today, Anna?”
“You’re asking for my help? Maybe I should take advantage of my position.”
“A good-looking woman like you, I’d be honored.”
“You sound more like a casting director than a cop.” She took the photo and turned it, holding it up to the light. “I’m still too vain to carry my glasses.” She tilted it through a couple of more angles to catch the light before handing it back. “There was a guy in here making some phone calls, but he was pretty covered up, like the Unabomber. Sunglasses, baseball cap, hooded sweatshirt pulled over the hat and tied so you couldn’t even see the color of his hair.”
“Any idea how old or tall?”
“I’ve been around here long enough to know if a guy dresses like that, you’re safer watching his moves than trying to get his vital statistics. He was up to something; I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t me. Especially when he asked for change.”
“How much did he need?” Kate asked.
“Lots, I guess. He had to be making long-distance calls. First he holds up a hundred-dollar bill, so I get the impression he’s trying to see what I had in my purse. But it looked like there was something wrong with the bill. It looked kind of raggedy.”
“Raggedy, how?” Vail asked.
“I don’t know, kind of torn, not on the edges, in the middle.”
“Like holes had been poked into it?”
“The nails,” Kate said under her breath.
The woman looked at Kate uncomprehendingly and then said, “Yeah, I guess it was holes, but it had to be bogus or something because then he says he’ll take twenty dollars for it so he can put it in the bill changer.” She pointed to the large silver box hanging on the wall at the other end of the laundry. “That’s when I knew it was a scam.”
“Did you say he made the calls?”
“Yeah. He takes the hundred and feeds it into the changer, so I knew it wasn’t real. I guess the machine read it as a twenty because about twenty bucks in quarters drops down.”
“Then he made the calls?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hear any of the conversation?”
“No, the whole time he’s turned to the wall, mumbling.”
“How many calls?”
“I stopped paying attention. I don’t know, two or three, maybe. I don’t know.”
“How long did they last?”
“Not long. I’d be guessing less than a minute, I suppose,” the woman said.
“Then he left?”
“Yeah.”
“In a car?”
The mischief returned to her eyes. “Yes.”
“Anna, you little minx, you know something.”
“Yes,” she repeated. “Give me your best offer.”
“My undying gratitude.”
She put the last article of clothing in the basket. “You carry my basket out to the car, and I’ll tell you something about when he left.” Vail picked up her laundry. “He left in a car, a green midsize. Toyota or Honda, I can never tell them apart. Like I said, I knew he wasn’t right, so I watched him through the window. He drove down the block and pulled into that motel.” She walked over to the window and pointed.
“You’ve been a big help, Anna. Let’s get you out to your car.”
She took his arm formally, and as they walked out, she said, “This suit looks good on you, but do you know what you’d look even better in?”
“No, what?”
“My shower.” She looked back at Kate and said, “Sorry, doll, you snooze, you lose.”
When Vail came back in, Kate asked, “Did you get her number?”
“Hey, you never know. I might get a day off while we’re out here.”
“You construction guys,” she said, shaking her head in feigned disgust. “I got ahold of Demick. He’s sending out an evidence team. You know what this means.”
“Let me hear what you think it means.”
She looked surprised that there might be different interpretations of what they had just learned. “If Bertok has the bills that were damaged during the three-million-dollar drop, he’s got to be the Pentad.”
“Possibly,” Vail said.
“Possibly? Is anything ever a sure thing with you?”
“Why be in a hurry to make assumptions? Let’s just keep following the yellow brick road until we find the guy behind the curtain,” Vail said.


THE CONQUISTADOR MOTEL rented rooms by the hour. It appeared to have thirty to forty rooms on two floors. It was U-shaped with all the parking directly in front of the rooms. The marquee advertised special weekly rates with free adult movies. Kate stood at the Laundromat window waiting for the evidence team and watched as Vail walked into the motel’s office.
Down the street in the opposite direction, not visible through the Laundromat window, sat a green Toyota, its driver watching Vail. Keeping his hands below the dashboard, he released the magazine from his Glock and, after checking it, rammed it back into the grip of the weapon, fully seating it, and then chambered a round. Lowering the visor and flipping up the cover on the mirror, he looked at himself, trying to decide whether he was recognizable behind the sunglasses, cap, and drawn-up sweatshirt hood. He peeled off his sunglasses. His gray eyes looked tired but clear. They began to widen with anticipation.


VAIL CAME THROUGH the Laundromat door, his expression urgent. “We got to go.”
“What happened?”
“They’re gone.”
“They?”
“Our boy and his rented significant other. The manager didn’t know her, but he was sure she was a hooker.”
“Did he make Bertok’s photo?”
“Said he never saw him. She rented the room.”
“Phone calls?”
“None. But the manager wrote down his plate on the registration card.”
“What about waiting for the evidence team?”
“We don’t have to protect the scene for them. They just have to retrieve that hundred-dollar bill and dust for prints. The way that guy was covered up, I doubt he’s going to leave prints, and nobody’s going to get to that hundred until the owner comes down and opens the machine.” As they hurried to the car, Vail handed a slip of paper to her and she dialed the office, asking for the radio room.
After a few seconds, Kate said, “It’s registered to a local car rental agency. I’ll call them.” Vail started the car. After a couple of minutes of conversation, she hung up and said, “The person renting the car is an Alan Nefton at 2701 Spring Street, Los Angeles. It’s a Toyota Camry.” Kate repeated the address as she entered it into the car’s navigational system.
Vail had a map out and found the address. “It’s not far,” he said.
Kate called the radio operator again. “Check Alan Nefton’s driver’s license for a description.” Vail pulled away from the curb. After another minute, she said, “There’s no record on file for any Alan Nefton.” Kate disconnected the line. “Well, let’s hope the address isn’t a phony too.”
Kate watched the car’s navigational screen without saying anything to Vail, who, once seeing where the address was on a map, didn’t refer to it again. When they were within two blocks, he said, “That should be it there, the small house with the bars on the windows and door.”
“It looks abandoned,” she said.
“Probably because it’s wedged between those two industrial properties that are abandoned.” Both businesses were large and dwarfed the tiny residence between them. One appeared to be an old flour factory, faded black letters on its whitewashed wall proclaiming “Stabler Milling Company Est. 1883.” The other looked to be an automobile graveyard, its eight-foot fence keeping its exact contents hidden. “Probably the look he was going for.”
“And he doesn’t have to worry about the neighbors sticking their noses in his business.”
“Keep an eye out for the car. I’m going to drive by at a normal speed. Because it’s on my side, I’m not going to look at it. If anyone is looking out, they’ll watch me to make sure I’m not checking it out, so you have to memorize all the windows and doors.” Vail hung his arm out the window and, staring straight ahead, took off slowly.
Kate looked as straight forward as possible. “Okay, the west side has one window at the back with bars. The front, one barred door and a barred window on either side of it. The east side has a window toward the front but no bars.”
“That just leaves the back,” Vail said. “We’d better get surveillance out here.” They were a block and a half past the house and Vail was looking for someplace to turn around when he spotted a green Camry coming at them. “Okay, here we go. Don’t look at the car.” With his peripheral vision, Vail could feel the driver scrutinizing him. He leaned over and placed his palm on Kate’s face. Snarling, he pushed her head away roughly. Before she could react he said, “Sorry, he was eyeballing us.”
In the rearview mirror, Vail tracked the Toyota as it pulled up in front of the house. He turned into a driveway and parked so his car was difficult to see. They watched the driver get out. Kate said, “That’s him!”
“You recognize his face?”
“No, he’s too far away, but that’s the same Unabomber getup the woman at the Laundromat saw.”
Vail watched him go into the house. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Let’s go? Don’t you think this is a job for SWAT?”
“See that gate on the front door?”
“What?”
“It’s not closed all the way.”
“So?”
Vail put the car in reverse and backed out into the street. “Chances are he didn’t lock it because he’s leaving right away. We don’t have a choice.” Vail was now driving toward the house. “When I pull in, go along the east side of the house. Be careful going past the window.” He was close enough to see the property in detail now. “There’s a Dumpster in the back for cover, and it’s off to the side. You can watch both the back and the east side of the house from there. I’ll go in the front.”
“What about the window on the west side?”
“It has bars on it, remember? He can’t get out that way.”
“Okay. I guess.”
“It’ll be fine. Just make sure you get some cover. Take your cell phone. As soon as you set up, call in the infantry.”
Kate drew her automatic and pulled the slide back far enough to make sure there was a round already in the chamber. Vail turned quickly into the driveway and was out of the car before her. Keeping low, she sprinted around the side of the house to the Dumpster, then straightened up behind it. There was only a single door in the back of the house and it was covered with another iron gate.
Giving her a few seconds to get into position, Vail now swung open the front door. It was dark inside, and he knew he would be silhouetted if the Camry’s driver was in position to shoot. He drew his Glock and dove through the opening. As he did, an explosion lit up the room. Vail heard two rounds thud into the wall behind him. In the flash of light, Vail saw a dark figure standing in an interior doorway.
Now it was dark again. The door was slammed and some sort of heavy lock was thrown. Hugging the wall, Vail worked his way over to the door. A board creaked under his feet. A burst of three rounds ripped through the solid wooden door. Without standing completely in front of it, Vail kicked at the edge of the door just above the knob. It didn’t give at all. He had kicked in enough doors to know that this one was heavily barricaded and it was going to take more than foot-pounds to open. Moving back along the walls, he exited the front of the house. “Kate!” he yelled.
“Yeah,” she called back.
“You all right?”
“Fine. You okay?”
“He’s barricaded himself.”
“LAPD and our people are on the way.”
“Just hold your ground. He can’t get out.”
Vail could already hear sirens in the distance. As they grew louder, he heard a single gunshot, this time muffled. He knew what that meant.