“Are we about done here?” Mason said.
“Did you hear what I just said? You ever hear of a group of cops called SIS? They got put together a few years ago to go after dealers. They can do anything they want, Mason. They make big numbers, so nobody gives a fuck. They’re walking around with a god card, courtesy of the mayor and the police superintendent. Drag some guy out of his car, beat the shit out of him, take his money, take his drugs. Bust down somebody’s door without a warrant? Nobody cares.”
“This is Chicago,” Mason said. “What else is new?”
“They’ve been together for seven years,” Sandoval said. “What do you think that means?”
Mason looked up at him.
“They made that bust at the harbor,” Sandoval said. “That was SIS.”
Mason’s grip tightened on the edge of the bench. He flashed back to the cars pulling out in front of the trucks. Not regular patrol cars. These cars were unmarked.
“Is that a big surprise? Soon as they got put together, you don’t think Cole was smart enough to buy these guys out? It was a business arrangement, Mason. Goes on for years, until it finally goes to shit. And that’s where you came in.”
Mason kept squeezing the bench pad tight, thinking about what this man was saying to him.
“You know what the most dangerous thing in the world is, Mason? A dirty cop. Nobody’s watching him. Nobody can touch him. He can do whatever the fuck he wants. You got a dirty cop in your life, you got a big problem. But you know what’s even worse than a dirty cop? A whole fucking squad of them.”
I saw Harris meeting with them, Mason thought. Those were the guys in the suits that second day I was following him.
“There’s a sergeant named Bloome,” Sandoval said. “Tall guy, pale, with gray eyes, looks like a fucking Russian border guard. If you see him coming, don’t even bother waiting for an introduction.”
Mason could see him in his mind, standing outside that coffee shop with his arm around Harris. “Why are you telling me this?”
“You killed his partner, Mason. And you’re his biggest problem in the world now. He had to know that Cole sent you. You think Cole can protect you? Twenty-four/seven? You think you can hide somewhere? These guys go anywhere they want. I’m surprised they’re not here already. Couple SIS detectives from the city show up, tell the sergeant at the desk out there they’re gonna take you back? You wouldn’t make it halfway there. You would disappear. No body. Just gone.”
Sandoval stood up and came up to the bars. “You’re public enemy number one, Mason. If I was a betting man, I’d be taking odds on how long you’re vertical. They’ll go after your family. They’ll go after anybody and everybody close to you. They’ll do whatever it takes.”
Mason closed his eyes for a moment. He made himself take a breath. Then another. His daughter was out there, riding her bike or watching television or who knows what. But Mason was here, locked up in the cell. They could take her right now, he thought, and I couldn’t stop them.
“You got one way out of this, Mason. Me.”
Mason looked at him.
“The wolves are loose,” Sandoval said. “They’re coming after you. I’m throwing you a line here. It’s the only way you’re gonna live through it. I know you’re just a soldier, Mason. You take orders from above. Help me take the whole thing down and I’ll help you. Tell me everything you know, I’ll send you somewhere they can’t get to you. You, anybody else in your life. Whatever it takes. But the offer expires as soon as you leave this cell. You walk out of here and I can’t help you.”
“The offer was dead the minute you walked in here,” Mason said. “I’m not admitting to anything you say I did. But if even half of it is true, you know there’s no way I can talk to you.”
Sandoval stayed there at the bars for a long moment, waiting for Mason to say something else. Then he turned and left.
27
The wolves were loose and Nick Mason had brought them to the two people he had most tried to protect.
Parked on the dark street, Mason watched Gina’s house. He’d come here as soon as he was released from the Elmhurst Police Station after an officer had driven him down to his car. The whole way, Sandoval’s words echoed in his head.
He got out and took a long look down the street in both directions. Then he walked up the driveway. A spotlight over the garage made an arc of light across the front yard. More lights shone from inside the house.
The front door opened. Gina’s husband came out and closed it behind him.
“Get out of here,” he said. “Right now.”
Still in his soccer-coaching shirt, he stalked across the front lawn. Mason stepped up until he could see the man’s face.
“Brad,” he said. “That’s your name, right?”
The man had two inches and maybe twenty pounds on Mason, but the muscle was built in the gym, not on the street. Still, Mason had no interest in fighting him. Not tonight.