Chapter 30

‘You know anything about this?’ Detective Lee Chang asked Broker, leaning casually against a filing cabinet. Chang’s creased suit, thinning hair and weary eyes spoke of a detective who had seen it all and worse. Broker had heard of him and knew he was a good cop. Chang didn’t jump to conclusions and allowed the evidence to lead him to wherever it took him.

Chang’s partner, Pizaka, was in sharp contrast. Pizaka shone. His gleaming white shirt, knife-edged trousers and polished brown shoes hurt Broker’s eyes. He donned a pair of shades and turned back to Chang.

‘Detective, of the eight million people in the city, why’re you asking me?’

‘Cause Dieter Hamm, the owner of the garage, whose name has appeared in all the posters, has accused you,’ drawled Pizaka. He and Chang were a good team; Chang lulled the suspects with his sleepy eyes and laid-back attitude, and Pizaka swooped in for the kill. They were proud of their Tango and Cash label.

They had called Broker in to get a first statement after Dieter Hamm and his expensive lawyer had filed a complaint and threatened to move heaven and hell – Hell for sure, thought Pizaka – if the NYPD didn’t book Broker and his associates.

‘He said you threatened him, accused him of running a gang, and tried to intimidate him and his staff – you and four others. He claimed you were responsible for a midnight raid on his garage and sticking posters all over it. Said he didn’t know what beef you had with him and that these…’ Pizaka’s poise slipped as he tried to find the right word.

‘Slander,’ Chang said helpfully.

‘These acts of defamation and slander are your doing. Discrediting the reputation of a respected pillar of the community and all that. Oh, I forgot, he’s also accused you of trespassing on private property and attacking his employees.’

‘I accused him of running a gang, of running prostitution rings, orchestrating kidnappings and being pond life and scum. That’s all true; that’s not slander.’

‘There’s the small matter of evidence and conviction,’ Chang murmured.

‘Which is your job, Detective. How are you getting on with that?’ Broker challenged them. He grinned at the ensuing silence and then continued, ‘But if this pillar of society is accusing me of putting up the truth on his garage last night, not guilty.’

‘Where were you last night? And your associates?’ Pizaka’s Armani shades reflected the light, adding to the shine around him.

The strip club and the gas station employ goons and don’t report all their income to the IRS. Bit hard to file a report in those circumstances. The garage, on the other hand, is clean, if you overlook all the gangbangers hanging around in it, mused Broker.

‘Anyone home?’ Pizaka asked again, bringing Broker back.

‘Oh, yeah. We were in Atlantic City, in the Gold Rush Casino. Went in the afternoon yesterday, returned today, just a couple of hours back. Pamela was our cocktail waitress. She should remember us.’ Broker smiled innocently.

‘Why should she remember you?’ Pizaka took the bait.

‘You mean this is not reason enough?’ Broker gestured at himself, grinning. ‘We must have made a pleasant change from her usual customers, most of whom are trying to look down her neckline or groping her.’

When Pizaka and Chang didn’t react, he continued. ‘We were pretty much the only people she was serving. My associates put away a lot of food and drink.’

‘You could have paid her to be your witness.’

Broker nodded. ‘I could. I guess I could’ve also paid Gold Rush’s security people to insert our images in their camera feeds.’

 

Broker employed hackers, no ordinary hackers but some of the best on the planet, who could run circles round those employed by the NSA. His hackers were based in the Ukraine and Serbia and were utterly loyal to him. They had been disappointed with Broker.

‘Is that all? We could move some of their money for you…’ one of them had complained.

 

Chang straightened, and Broker knew it was over. He and his partner had nothing on them, and the purpose of the interview was merely to make a statement to him. As Broker was leaving, he couldn’t resist. He turned back to them, both of them sporting shades now, the shades reflecting multiple images of Broker.

Broker aimed two fingers at his eyes and reversed those fingers at Pizaka first and then Chang, in the classic B-movie gesture. ‘No? I thought we would have parted with you doing this. Isn’t it in the Suave Detective Handbook?’

He glanced casually to his right when he stepped out of the interview room, closely followed by the two. There was a bunch of people milling around several feet away, and something about them caught his attention. He gazed sharply and then recognized Hamm accompanied by a smartly dressed middle-aged man, his lawyer.

Broker stepped across to them, ignoring the sharp breath Pizaka drew behind him and Chang’s whispered, ‘Don’t.’

‘Had some trouble, Dieter?’

Hamm’s lawyer leaned in and whispered something, and Hamm’s bunched shoulders relaxed, his eyes watching Broker like a cobra’s.

‘That rate card…’

Hamm lunged toward Broker, his hands reaching out, and Chang and Pizaka hurled themselves between the two, and that wasn’t enough. Hamm came to inches from Broker’s face and whispered, ‘You’re a dead man walking.’

Pizaka twisted his face back at Broker. ‘Get outta here.’ If he had heard Hamm’s comment, he ignored it.

Broker looked at Hamm and grinned even wider, feeling light and carefree and utterly dangerous. ‘Listen to your lawyer, Hamm. Don’t do or say anything stupid. Scheafer wouldn’t like it. As it is, I’m sure he’s not very happy with your incompetence.’

Hamm stilled, the surging force in him stopping and subsiding, and the two looked at each other, and the others became inconsequential. The spell broke as Hamm turned and walked away, his lawyer trotting fast to keep up with him.

Broker walked outside, things coming back into focus, the murmur of voices growing louder, and when he reached outside, he paused to let life normalize. He could have crushed Hamm’s larynx and left him dead in seconds. Crushing Hamm wasn’t the objective.

Taking a deep breath, allowing it to run through him and calm down the motor neurons and synapses, he dialed a number. ‘Meet me at Rocka’s.’

Pressure, relentless pressure. That was the objective.

He drove out, knowing that three other vehicles would fall in behind him.

A fourth vehicle detached itself from the rest of New York and followed them.

The Watcher.

 

‘Why?’ Elaine Rocka glared angrily at them.

They had grouped in two Tahoes and reached her home before she had returned from work, and had waited for her return. Her Subaru eased into the driveway an hour later, but rather than going inside, she strode – walking was not for the Elaine Rockas of the world – down the sidewalk and returned half an hour later with Shawn and Lisa. Lisa was holding her hand and skipping beside her, narrating her day, while Shawn followed more thoughtfully. Boys had their standards. They didn’t walk abreast with girls, even if they were their sisters.

They had waited for another half an hour, and then Broker had knocked on her door and braced himself. She had flung open the door, made a sound of disgust, crossed her arms and waited, her dogs ever watchful behind her.

Broker had outwaited her, and they had finally been admitted to her living room, but not before she had sent the kids to their rooms.

 

‘Why?’ she repeated, scraping her chair back angrily. ‘You got the answers you wanted. Why are you back?’

‘Shattner’s absence has to be reported to the police,’ Broker replied patiently. ‘Ma’am, we fully understand your wish to shield the children, but a missing person report has to be filed.’

Her face turned red. ‘That is none of your business. You came to find the relationship with your dead friend; you got all that we knew. Why don’t you disappear and let us get on with our lives?’

‘Ma’am, this became our business the day we got Shawn’s call–’

‘Screw your business,’ Elaine Rocka shouted, glanced around her, and lowered her voice. ‘Just go.’

Broker sensed Chloe’s gaze on him and looked at her and nodded briefly at her expression. He walked out of the living room without a word, the other men following him.

‘Think she’ll go for it?’ Roger asked after a while.

‘If Chloe can’t persuade her, none of us can,’ growled Broker, his calm exterior breaking to reveal his impatience. ‘He’s been missing for months now, for crissakes. Surely she understands that at the very least she’s got to lodge it with the NYPD.’

Roger didn’t answer, and Broker turned to glare at him, and then his glare dissolved.

Lisa had her face scrunched against the window and was drawing circles on the glass; Bwana was drawing smileys in them, making Lisa giggle. He traded glances with Roger and Bear and firmed his shoulders resolutely and turned back inside just as the door opened.

‘We’re going in half an hour,’ Chloe announced, ‘as soon as she gets the kids ready.’

‘How did you manage that?’

‘That’s between women.’ Chloe smiled and then answered seriously, ‘She doesn’t have a lot of choice. We could have gone directly to the police, and then she would have been in deeper trouble; the Office of Children and Family Services could get involved.’

A tornado burst out the front door and glared at them. ‘We’re ready,’ Elaine Rocka said through clenched teeth, and then her face relaxed as the kids came through the door. Bear pulled the door shut behind them after an abrupt nod from her.

Bear opened their Tahoe’s door with a flourish and bowed deeply as Lisa and Elaine climbed in. ‘Milady.’ He gestured grandly at Chloe, indicating she join them in the rear.

Chloe nudged Lisa. ‘He’s never opened doors for me before. Stick around with us, honey, and maybe we’ll get him to shave that beard.’ Lisa giggled when Bear caught her eye in the mirror and winked at her.

After dropping the dogs off at friends of hers, Broker led them to a safe house, the setting sun bathing Triborough Bridge in gold, time standing still momentarily for nature’s work.

Far behind them, but keeping them in view, Tony pressed his earbud. ‘On the move.’

‘Roger,’ came back another voice belonging to a stringy man driving a compact a couple of car lengths behind Tony. Their job was to keep the lead vehicles free of tails, or warn them of any.

At One Police Plaza – Chang had wanted to meet them there once Broker had called him – Pizaka led them to an empty office, empty save for Chang. He shut the door after Bwana, Roger, and Shawn joined them, and crossed the desk to join Chang.

Pizaka and Chang were professional and ran through Elaine Rocka’s statement, disappeared for a few minutes – Checking on the school, Elaine Rocka’s manager and the garage, Broker surmised – and returned with an air of finality, indicating the interview was nearly over.

When their aunt led the children away, Broker lingered back. ‘You know the garage Shattner worked in was 5Clubs run? It was Brooklyn’s epicenter of crime. I’m sure you guys were keeping tabs on it.’

Chang’s sleepy expression didn’t change, and Pizaka had his game face on.

Broker shrugged. ‘Just saying. Shattner kept a journal, we just learnt. Wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out to be hot.’ He cut himself short when Pizaka and Chang looked over his shoulder; he glanced back and saw Shawn looking at him curiously through the half-open door.

An hour later, Elaine Rocka’s stony visage was still the same, though her stiff shoulders had relaxed fractionally. It was hard to relax when Lisa frequently blew the shiny whistle she had hanging around her neck. ‘Lee said I should use it if I’m in trouble, and they’ll come with their sirens.’ Lee. Detective Chang and her were besties now. Her friends at school would be so J.

Broker got sucked into meetings with other cops, intel that he’d passed helping their cases, and it was several hours before they could head out of the building.

‘Broker, why did you say that? Dad didn’t leave anything with us.’ Shawn glanced up at him.

‘I know, son, but I want them to work hard in finding your dad, and I’m dangling a carrot for them.’

Shawn nodded, unconvinced ‘Do you think…?’

‘I have dad’s key,’ Lisa said.

Broker stopped so abruptly that Bwana, a couple of steps behind him, ran into him. He knelt down. ‘Say what, honey?’

‘Dad kept his secret stuff in his locker. He gave me the key and said I should not give it to anyone.’

‘You’re lying. Dad always told me everything. He gave me his phone. He would have told me about his locker,’ Shawn said angrily. He had always been the custodian of his dad’s secrets, and it looked like now he wasn’t.

Lisa’s lower lip trembled, and her eyes filled. ‘It’s true. He gave it to me when he took us out of school. He made me pinky swear and stuck it inside my school bag.’ She brushed away a tear with her face and ran to the comforting embrace of her aunt. Elaine Rocka glared at them. See what you’ve done.

Bwana knelt beside Shawn, dwarfing him even then. ‘Do you trust your dad?’

Shawn nodded wordlessly, his eyes betraying his hurt. ‘Then you should accept that this doesn’t mean he didn’t think you couldn’t keep a secret. He had a good reason for this.’ He kept looking at Shawn till the boy nodded again, slowly and reluctantly.

Bwana patted him on his shoulder and rose. He knew a lot about trust and faith. They didn’t need to speak about it; it was just there, like sunlight and air.

Lisa had fallen asleep, the rush of traffic lulling her, when Elaine Rocka finally broke her silence. ‘Do you think he has anything in the locker?’

Broker shrugged silently, the thought was uppermost in all their minds. ‘We won’t know unless we–’

‘DOWN.’

‘DOWN.’

His window exploded.