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  From a public employee’s perspective, I understood what he was saying. From a father’s perspective, I was baffled. I would use everything in my power to find one of my kids. To hell with the media or anyone else.

  The mayor stared silently out the window for a few moments. Then he turned to face me again. The couch felt like a giant beanbag chair forcing us to sit close to each other.

  The mayor said, “I know what you’re thinking, Detective. You think all I care about is my political position. That’s not correct.”

  Now I heard the weariness in his voice. He was beyond exhausted and just wanted to find his daughter.

  The mayor continued. “I’m in a catch-22. I can’t authorize excessive city funds for a public employee to find my daughter. And I can’t use my own money to pay a public employee. I want to find my daughter, but I’ve also sworn to uphold laws and stick to a code of ethics. You guys at the PD and the people at the fire department may hate my policies about pay raises, but I made them in the best interest of the city. And now I can’t send you to find my daughter because it’s not in the best interest of the city. In fact, it goes against every position I ran on. Favoritism, funneling resources to the wealthy areas, and corruption within the city government itself.”

  As he talked, his voice got stronger and he almost sounded like he was on the stump. But I understood what he was saying. I was even a little surprised by what he was saying. He was trying to do the right thing, no matter how hard it was. I had to respect that. I also had to tell him what I intended to do.

  I said, “Mr. Mayor, I’m going to go look for Natalie on my own. No one needs to know. Not the media, not your constituents, not even your aides.”

  Now the mayor stared at me. His mouth dropped open in surprise. All he could manage to say was “Why?”

  “Because I’m a father, and I have daughters.”

  Chapter 52

  I braced for a brisk discussion, or what some people might call an argument, when I finally got Mary Catherine alone that night. I explained everything that had happened and finished with “That’s why I feel like I have to go to Estonia. That girl may be in real trouble, and no one’s going to do anything about it.”

  I almost felt like closing my eyes and shying away as I waited for a torrent of Irish anger. Sometimes she used insults I had to look up or ask my grandfather to translate to judge how angry she was.

  Mary Catherine was constantly concerned about me at work. She understood my sense of duty and the fact that I loved my job, and she maintained that she fell in love with me after I was already a cop. She understood it was part of me. That didn’t mean she kept quiet about her concerns.

  This time she surprised me. As we stood on our balcony, listening to the gentle sounds of the city, she leaned across and kissed me on the cheek. Then she slid in close and locked arms with me. She didn’t say a word.

  After a full minute, I had to ask. “Do you have a problem with me traveling to Estonia?”

  “Will I miss you? Yes. Will I worry about you? Yes. Do I understand why you feel you have to go? Once again, I’d have to say yes. Michael, you’re nothing if not predictable when it comes to doing the right thing.”

  I gave Mary Catherine a sideways glance. “You’re being remarkably reasonable about this. Am I walking into a trap?”

  “I know how precious your daughters are to you. I just worry for your safety. You can’t fix everyone’s problems.”

  “No, but I might be able to fix this one.”

  “Can you count on anyone for help over there? The FBI? Anyone?”

  This could’ve been an opportunity to ease her fears and tell her there was nothing to worry about. But that flew in the face of my policy of being open and honest with the woman I intended to spend the rest of my life with. “No, I’ll just be a tourist.”

  Mary Catherine said, “A tourist who might have to tangle with a gang.”

  “A gang of computer geeks.” Okay, so I was misleading her a little bit.

  My grandfather wandered out onto the balcony to join us. I had filled him in earlier on what I planned to do.

  Seamus said, “I’ve made a few calls. You’ll have some help from the clergy if you should need it.”

  “Great, I could use some tough, elderly backup. Maybe they can help me put these boys on the right track and convince them to forget about crime.”

  Seamus didn’t even bother with his usual scowl.

  Mary Catherine said, “I didn’t realize the Roman Catholic community was so big in Estonia.”

  Seamus said, “It’s growing all the time. But in this case, I spoke to one of my friends in the Orthodox Church. He understands your situation and is prepared to help. Marty Zlatic is the rector of St. Laszlo’s in Tallinn.” He handed me a sheet of paper with a confusing phone number.

  I stared at my grandfather and said, “You never fail to surprise me. I thought you only conned other Catholic priests.”

  The old man smiled. “I have friends across all denominations. You need only ask and I can find someone to help. We all talk.”

  That seemed to satisfy some of Mary Catherine’s concerns. At least for the moment.

  Chapter 53

  As we stood near the TSA line in JFK, I wondered what the European tourists arriving thought of my horde of kids, fiancée, and grandfather all huddled around me. They probably viewed the scene and thought I must be on my way to a combat zone.

  Chrissy was crying. I was not sure why. Even Trent was a little clingy. He stood right next to me with his arm around my waist.

  Eddie handed me a sheet of paper. He said, “Just some computer terms that might keep you from looking stupid.”

  I appreciated his faith in me. I glanced at the sheet and the first term I saw was laptop. How tech illiterate did he think I was?

  Shawna motioned to me to lean down. She pulled me closer and whispered in my ear, “I love you, Dad. I’ll think about you every minute you’re away.”

  It was the sweetest thing a little girl could say to her father. It choked me up for a moment while I said good-bye to everyone else.

  I gave each one an individual hug and kiss. Then I found I needed a giant hug with everyone crammed together. We must’ve looked like a rugby scrum.

  This whole weird case had crystallized for me just how much my family meant to me. It sounded sappy to say they were my whole world. But they really were.

  As we held a hug for a few seconds, I felt the missing Brian like a physical pain. It made me think about a verse from Matthew. I could just get it roughly right in my head. “If a shepherd cares for one hundred sheep and one wanders off, will he not leave the other ninety-nine to look for that one?”

  Now that verse made more sense than ever before.

  Mary Catherine sobbed as I gave everyone a last, giant squeeze, and she slipped in as the others started to break the hug. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me in for a long kiss. I could taste her salty tears running down her cheeks. I prayed I could slip away without bawling like a little kid myself.

  She broke the kiss, then whispered in my ear, “I love you so much that I know you’ll come back to me safe. If you love me the same way, make sure that happens.”

  That was the best challenge I’d ever been given.

  Seamus was indispensable as he helped break up the crowd around me and held them for a moment as I backed away.

  A TSA agent who had witnessed our extended good-bye gave me a flat stare as I turned around. I thought I was about to get a touching comment about how beautiful my family was or some earnest words of encouragement. Instead he cleared his throat and said, “Get in that line,” pointing to a winding line of people at the far end of the security area.

  About ten minutes after our good-bye, as I stood in line, waiting to take off my shoes and walk through a security scanner, I got a text.

  It was from Mary Catherine.

  All it said was I love you.

  Now I started to tear up. Th
at was all the encouragement I needed.

  Chapter 54

  After a reasonable layover in Frankfurt that gave me time for a quick bite, my Lufthansa flight to Tallinn went quickly, and we landed at the Lennart Meri Airport fairly late in the evening, local time. I would’ve liked to see the place during the day for a better look at the giant panels on the roof. I wasn’t sure if they were decorative or solar, but either way, they were impressive.

  It was a pleasant-looking, bustling terminal. Even at this hour, the place had decent traffic around the kiosks for Nordica, the national airline of Estonia.

  Almost as soon as I started heading through the main terminal, I noticed two men following me. One was about six feet tall and lean. He was younger and clean-cut. His partner was pudgy and a little sloppier. He looked like a guy who bowled in Cleveland on Wednesday nights.

  The shorter man had to take two steps for every one his partner took. His comb-over took a hit as he tried to move quickly.

  If I was in New York, I would’ve known exactly where to stop and lay a trap. I’d also have a gun. Here, all I could do was move a little faster.

  I took a corner.

  They followed.

  I took another corner.

  Same result.

  I could see the wide, automatic doors that led outside almost a hundred yards in front of me. I’d never make it without these two catching me, so I made a quick left turn into a hallway that led to bathrooms and some kind of maintenance area. It was the best chance I had to surprise them.

  I slipped in next to a support column. If they looked down the hallway, they wouldn’t see anything. I wasn’t sure of my plan beyond that. I quickly scanned the area to see if there was anything I could use as a weapon.

  It reminded me of a time when I’d been surprised by two would-be muggers in Philadelphia, when a two-foot-long piece of metal rebar I picked up from the ground in front of a construction site slid nicely up the sleeve of my jacket. The two muggers, who had been following me for three blocks, never even noticed me stop. When they caught up to me in front of the convention center near Chinatown, I was ready for a confrontation. Like all bullies, muggers count on fear and intimidation, so when I realized all they had was a knife between them, I let the rebar slip into my hand. It had taken only one swing through the air to frighten both of the men into a sprint toward North Broad Street.

  But in this hallway, I saw nothing remotely helpful. Now all I could do was ball my hands into fists.

  Chapter 55

  I felt like I was behind the column for hours, until I heard the men talking in low tones. I couldn’t even tell what language they were speaking. Then one of them started to walk down the hallway toward me.

  It was the taller of the two men. Good. If I took him out, the second man appeared easier to deal with. The tall one walked right past the post, focused on the men’s room door down the hall. Apparently he was pretty sure that’s where I had gone.

  As soon as he was past me, I rushed him like a defensive end. I could hear him lose his breath as I caught him by surprise and knocked him about four feet through the air. He landed on the polished floor and slid another two feet into the wall.

  I had no time to admire my handiwork, though I did have a moment of satisfaction. Any time you knock down someone bigger and younger than you, it’s a point of pride.

  I was going to kick him in the head to make sure he was out of the fight when the other man appeared almost right next to me. I had my right fist prepared to aim for his chin. Or should I say chins. He was sweating, and his black hair fell in every direction, like he’d just stepped out of the shower.

  Before I could take any action, he said one of the few things that would freeze me in place.

  “Detective Michael Bennett, we’re FBI. Stand down.”

  Anyone could say that. But a seasoned cop knew when he heard another seasoned cop speak. Plus, we were in Estonia and this guy was speaking English with a Boston accent.

  I kept my posture with my fist cocked.

  The shorter, pudgy man eased around me to check on his friend, who was coming up onto his hands and knees. He helped him up, and they both faced me.

  The shorter man said, “Put your goddamn fist down. We’re adults. We’re also Americans in a foreign country. Don’t embarrass us.”

  I said, “How’d you know I’d be here?”

  “Are you kidding me? You think there are no former NYPD detectives with the Bureau? You think they don’t know what’s going on with your useless Intelligence unit? I had to hump it up here from our official office in Riga, Latvia. You know how far that is?”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I shrugged and said, “Pretty far.”

  The FBI agent mumbled, “Asshole.” Then he looked at me and said, “You bet your ass it’s pretty far. Maybe not by US standards. But driving a shitty road three hundred kilometers is no picnic. And I had plenty to do in Riga. I hardly ever come up to Estonia.”

  I thought it best to play along. “So you must have a pretty big area of responsibility. All of the Baltics and what else?”

  “Don’t get me started. Three of us do the work of two entire squads. And you know why?”

  “No, why?”

  “Because it’s our job. We actually have jurisdiction here and work closely with the national police. As far as we’re concerned, you’re just a tourist who’s here to cause problems. Which is why we took the time to haul ass up here and meet you right at the gate.”

  “That was very thoughtful of you. I don’t generally get that kind of service from the FBI in New York. Although they often deliver a similar speech about jurisdiction. Do they teach you that at Quantico? I’m sorry, I don’t even know your name.” I smiled and stuck out my hand, knowing that would annoy these FBI agents more than anything.

  The tubby guy groaned in frustration. Finally he shook my hand. “My name’s Bill Fiore. This kid who can’t take a body blow is Matt Miller. We know you’re here on a case. But we’d like to know exactly what you’re doing four thousand miles from home.”

  “At the moment, I’m knocking around a couple of FBI agents. Tomorrow, I thought I might do some sightseeing.”

  Fiore said, “Do you think we’re idiots?”

  “Is that a rhetorical question?”

  “Smart guy, huh? I got news for you, Mr. Big Shot Detective, you’re not welcome in Estonia. Your ass is coming with us until we can load you on a plane back to the States.” He took a moment to run a hand through his hair and flop it back into place over his spreading bald spot. He was about forty and, on closer inspection, looked like he used to be in reasonable shape. Maybe the food in Europe agreed with him.

  I gathered my thoughts. “I really don’t see what legal authority you have to send back a tourist. I’m not here on official business.”

  “Bullshit. You NYPD guys think you can do anything and go anywhere because of your Intel unit. But we have legal authority to be here. You don’t. That’s why you’re getting on a plane tomorrow and heading back to New York, before you cause any problems.”

  The younger guy, Miller, grabbed me by the upper arm like I was a suspect being led away in cuffs. I had to admit he had a serious grip.

  Fiore fell in on the other side of me as they started marching me toward the main exit.

  Chapter 56

  It felt like I was being marched to prison. Had my mission failed so quickly and completely? Maybe someone in the Intel unit disagreed with me going to Estonia to look for the mayor’s daughter and had tipped off the FBI. Maybe it was someone in the mayor’s office itself. Either way, my heart sank. I walked along silently. I didn’t see what I could do at the moment. I couldn’t even ask to speak to someone at our embassy. It was my own government detaining me.

  I wasn’t about to hurt another US cop, no matter how much he annoyed me. All I could do was walk along. I was trying to resign myself to the situation.

  A younger man in a FILA jacket walked past and bumped into Bil
l Fiore. Then he turned around and started shouting at the FBI agent in what I was sure was French. And he sounded pissed off.

  To my surprise, Fiore answered him in French. And he sounded like every other annoyed Bostonian I had ever heard. Except he was speaking French.

  Their voices echoed a little in this less busy section of the airport. A young woman closing up her newsstand for the evening looked on silently.

  Fiore faced the man and stepped toward him. The tubby FBI agent had no fear, that was for sure.

  Then someone else came from the side and bumped into the younger FBI agent, Miller. He bumped into him hard enough to knock him off his feet. Apparently this guy had a hard time staying upright.

  I wondered if I would have to help my captors in some sort of confrontation. Then a pair of strong hands grabbed me from behind and started leading me toward the front door.

  A voice from behind me said in English, “Just keep walking. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  Not doing something stupid was always my goal. I had found that I was not always able to accomplish that goal. For the moment, I moved along with my new captors. But I was looking for an angle. Something that would help me if I fought or if I ran.

  I couldn’t believe it, but suddenly I was worried about the two FBI agents’ safety. I had no idea who these new guys were, but I didn’t want them to hurt any cops.

  Outside, a beat-up red Fiat skidded to a stop right in front of us. I didn’t like the looks of this at all. If I got in that thing, there was no telling where I would end up. Or, more important, who I might end up meeting. I had to do something.

  I started to turn and look back into the terminal. A strong forearm kept my head from turning and shoved me forward. That was one plan out the window.

  Where were the uniformed cops in this airport? If something like this happened in JFK, there’d be a dozen cops pouncing on us right now. Here, about to be shoved into a car headed to God knows where, I had to think of something else fast.