He turned and kept his eyes on Kieran as she left him to join Declan at the bar.
“Kieran. What are you doing here?” he asked his sister.
Maybe Declan could talk sense into her.
Or, knowing Kieran, maybe not.
“I’m here to be with my family, and that’s that,” she said firmly.
Declan looked up as Craig approached. “Damn, she reminds me of my grandmother sometimes. Sweet little thing with blue eyes and rosy cheeks—and stronger than steel. Hell on wheels once she got something into her head.”
Obviously there was going to be no help from Declan.
“Danny and Kevin here?” Craig asked.
Declan nodded, indicating the floor. “Debbie’s off, and Mary Kathleen is staying with Bobby, giving Julie a break.” He looked at Craig. “I hear Jimmy McManus was attacked.”
Craig realized Declan hadn’t heard yet about the dead man in front of his sister’s office, so he filled him in on that, too.
Declan stared at his sister. “What on earth are you doing here? You should be sleeping in a locked room at FBI headquarters!”
“Declan, they’re killing their own. They’re scared. Whoever’s the head of this thing is covering their tracks so they can take the money and run,” Kieran said.
And that was a possibility, Craig had to admit.
They might never find Sylvia Mannerly or even identify the fourth killer.
No, he promised himself. He would be damned before he saw it go down that way.
Marty came up behind him just then. “I’m here,” he announced. “I’ll be here until the bitter end.”
“Nice way to put it,” Declan murmured.
Craig turned to Kieran. “I will be back. Don’t even think about leaving until I get here. That goes for all of you,” he said to Declan.
Declan nodded. “Whatever you say.”
Craig wanted to take Kieran in his arms, but he couldn’t, not with things the way they were. Most of all, he just wanted to stay wherever she was and watch over her himself, but he couldn’t do that, either.
He didn’t touch her and hardly looked at her, just nodded at the three of them, turned and left.
He drove to the offices of Clean Cut Office Services.
Mike was supervising a half dozen officers as they went through the place.
“Anything?” Craig asked him.
“It looks like our Ms. Mannerly was very careful. Everything of hers—everything personal—has been removed. The way I figure it, she was setting up her thieves with her employees—young, innocent girls, many of them recent immigrants—and getting her employees jobs at the places she intended to hit. You know the address that Kieran found on the table at the pub?” Mike asked.
“Yeah?”
“That store was on a list of new clients. I think it would have been hit soon, but maybe the thieves must have gotten wind that the cops were watching the place, or maybe it just wasn’t next on the list. I think Mannerly was smart. She knew the FBI was investigating, so she tried to keep ears and eyes on us.”
“Maybe Kieran saved another life,” Craig said.
“I heard about the dead man in front of Kieran’s office.”
“Throat slit,” Craig said. “They’ve got an APB out on the car.” He shook his head. “Ice-cold, huh? A guy dies trying to keep Bailey Headley from describing Miss Mannerly, who just disappears nice as can be, and suddenly the guy’s buddy is murdered, too. Nice functional work family, huh? Who killed him, do you think? The unknown fourth killer or our Ms. Mannerly—who definitely isn’t Ms. Mannerly, by the way. Eagan called me on my way over. She was using a social security number belonging to a woman who died in 1980.”
“Figures.”
“We’re trying to find out who she really is,” Craig said.
Mike nodded.
“Anyone search her apartment yet?” Craig asked.
“We would—if we knew where it was,” Mike told him.
“She must have an address listed.”
“She does,” Mike said, and smiled grimly. “It’s in the middle of the Hudson River.”
Craig swore in frustration. Mike had this covered. Mayo was on the most recent body, which was on the way to the morgue. He wasn’t needed here or there.
Mike must have read his mind. “Go,” he said. “I’ll let you know if anything new turns up. Where are you headed?”
“The street,” Craig told him. “I want to find a bullet.”
As he drove, he called the office to get the exact location where Jimmy had been assaulted. It turned out to be very near to where Bobby had been found.
Very near Finnegan’s.
Craig headed to the address. The bullet had winged Jimmy McManus on the left-hand side of the head.
Craig worked all possible trajectories and searched the buildings one by one, running his hands over stone and concrete, paint and graffiti.
He couldn’t find the bullet.
Eventually he gave up and decided to head back to Finnegan’s.
But not until he made a stop at home.
At his place, he changed. He was all set to leave when Eagan called.
“May mean nothing,” Eagan said once he’d finished talking.
Or it could mean something big.