Flint crossed his arms. “It’s not the senator; it’s a staffer,” he said. “And we don’t know if his job has anything to do with why he was killed. This is just the beginning of the investigation.”
Dani lightly tapped her chest with a gloved fingertip. “I was there. He must have jabbed something into him with the umbrella, because Costner went down seconds after he bumped him.” She let that sink in before continuing. “I may not be a homicide detective, but I know this was no street crime. It was a hit.” She gestured to her supervisor. “I agree with SAC Wu. This was terrorism.”
“Which happens to fall under your purview,” Flint said, his tone skeptical. “So you’ll have to step in and take over the whole—”
“The J in JTTF stands for Joint,” Dani said. “We can investigate together.”
Wu gave Flint a calculating look. “You’ve been assigned to my unit in the past. How would you like a temporary transfer back?”
“That’s not up to you to decide,” Flint said. “Right now, it’s an NYPD case, and I’m the lead detective. The FBI hasn’t been invited to assist.”
Dani noted that Flint had emphasized the last word. In local homicides, the FBI would assist if they had no jurisdiction. And if they were invited.
“Once the identity of the victim hits the news, I’m certain the request will come through channels,” Wu said. “Or I can just make some phone calls now and cut through the red tape.”
He and Flint eyed each other for a long moment before the detective finally broke the silence.
“I’ll notify my chain of command, and you can do the same on your end,” he said to Wu. “Between the inevitable media hype, the politics involved, and the department brass demanding answers, this has all the makings of a circus.”
“I’m afraid you’re right,” Wu said to Flint. “I just hope we all don’t end up as clowns.”
CHAPTER 3
Dani and Wu waited while Flint spent a quarter of an hour on his cell phone outlining the situation to his lieutenant.
“He’s on board,” Flint told them after disconnecting. “But it still has to go up the chain.”
Now it was up to SAC Wu to use his influence to fast-track official approval from the top down in both organizations. Considering the nature of the crime and the identity of the victim, she assumed the NYPD wouldn’t mind letting the Bureau into their sandbox.
Wu snatched his buzzing phone from an outer pocket of the hazmat suit. “It’s Johnson,” he said, referring to his lead analyst. He tapped the screen. “I’m putting you on speaker,” he said after a few seconds. “Detective Flint with NYPD Homicide and Agent Vega are with me. They should hear this firsthand.”
Another quick tap allowed them to hear Jada Johnson, who had been assigned to the New York JTTF for the past four years. A consummate professional, Johnson unearthed information faster than her colleagues and often anticipated requests before they were made.
Wu had directed the analyst to partner with the NYPD to collect video from the Transit Authority and their own Domain Awareness System, which included a police CCTV system and private security cameras. The network gave them access to more than fifteen thousand cameras in Manhattan, the Bronx, and Brooklyn alone.
“Transit Authority cams got a good visual of him on the platform,” Johnson said. “We worked with the NYPD’s Facial Identification Section to generate a probe image of his face. Since this investigation involves a serious crime, they’re authorized to track his movements in the city. I’ve reviewed some of the raw feed, but it’s still coming in right now.”
“Can you send it to my phone so we can see what you’ve got so far?” Wu asked.
“Texting it to you now, sir,” Johnson said.
Dani bent to peer down at the cell phone’s rectangular screen. She watched a video of herself sprinting through the throng in the subway and standing on the platform as the train on the opposite side of the tracks left. Her stomach sank again when Umbrella Man’s smile blurred as he glided away from her.
“Where did he get out?” Flint said.
“One stop down at Canal Street, like Agent Vega assumed,” Johnson said as the image flicked to a man exiting the train. “He didn’t stay on long. Probably knew we would stop the train and search the cars.”
Which is exactly what had happened. Unfortunately, by the time word spread to the Transit Authority and got to their operators, Umbrella Man had made his escape—without his trench coat. Thousands of passengers had been inconvenienced for nothing. “And he knew enough to change his appearance,” Johnson went on. “It took a while to isolate the subway car and go back over each departing passenger.”
Dani stifled a groan. Her description had focused heavily on the man’s distinctive clothing. She had been able to characterize him as a clean-shaven, tall Latino male in his thirties, with dark-brown hair and an athletic build, but she couldn’t say much beyond that besides what he wore. Sophisticated surveillance equipment could locate him, but the beat cops on the street wouldn’t have been able to spot him in real time if his outfit was different. The rest of her description fit thousands of passengers.
“Here’s the view from inside the car,” Johnson said, and the phone’s screen flicked to a new feed. “Watch what he does next.”
The unknown subject, or “unsub” in FBI-speak, carefully slid the folded compact umbrella into the back pocket of his slacks before taking off his trench coat. He fished into one of its deep pockets with his right hand and pulled out a black leather flatcap. After jamming the hat on, he reached into the sleeve holes and began to tug.
Intrigued, Dani looked on with the others as Umbrella Man pulled the sleeves through the holes. “The raincoat is reversible,” she said.
“I’ll be damned,” was all Wu could manage.
In less than sixty seconds, the distinctive tan trench coat had morphed into a solid black duster. The black cap covered the top of his head, and a quick placement of black-rimmed sunglasses onto his nose completed the transformation. At a glance, he bore little resemblance to the description Dani had provided to responding authorities.
“We’ve updated the suspect lookout,” Johnson said before Wu could ask. “And we’ve forwarded photos of the new clothing to everyone in law enforcement.”
“Didn’t he know we would see him alter his appearance?” Wu said.
“It’s safe to assume he knew we would review video from security cams and CCTV after the victim on the street was killed,” Dani said. “And he figured a change would delay our response long enough for him to get away—which it did.”
Johnson switched to a platform feed that showed Umbrella Man exiting the subway car. He glanced around, then casually strolled toward the stairs and up to Canal Street. The video cut to another angle, this time following his progress as he ambled down the sidewalk.
“The time lag for this feed is roughly twenty minutes,” Johnson said. “NYPD analysts are compiling and sharing it with us as they go, but we should catch up and have real-time footage soon.”
“Are there patrols in the area?” Wu asked. “Can they head in that direction?”
“Dispatch already sent squad cars,” Johnson said. “They got the info directly from video forensics through the incident commander, and they’re setting up containment.”
“Have they been notified that the unsub is in possession of a dangerous toxin?” Dani asked. “They know to use caution?”
“That was the first thing they were told,” Johnson assured her.
Dani returned her gaze to the screen and saw Umbrella Man continue to saunter another two blocks, looking relaxed, before turning the corner and ducking under blaze-orange hazmat tape to enter an old building.
“Where’s that?” Wu asked. “And can we access all cameras around the perimeter?”
“On it,” Johnson responded, keys clacking under her fingers. “NYPD is checking the cams, and I’m researching the location.”
“I know that building,” Flint said. “It’s scheduled for demolition, but it’s been closed for asbestos removal first. They’ve been working on it for over a month.”
“Is that him?” Dani said a few minutes later.
A figure had stepped out of the building, wearing white coveralls, a hard hat, and bright-yellow rubber boots. His face was obscured behind a respirator.
“That’s a level-C hazmat suit,” Flint said. “He’s either one of the workers removing the asbestos, or he’s the perp.”
“There’s been enough time for him to have ditched his coat and changed,” Dani said.
“Agreed,” Wu said. “We need to get over there to check it out.”
As he spoke, the man in the hazmat suit retrieved a clipboard hanging from a nail posted outside and went back inside the building.
“Has the video feed caught up yet?” Wu asked.
“Yes, sir,” Johnson said. “What you’re seeing is in real time.”
“The officers will have to get PPEs before entering,” Flint said. “It would make more sense for them to order whoever’s inside to come out before they search the place.”