Rik, as usual, walks Lucy to her Toyota. Once they stroll off, I motion Tonya to the Cadillac, where we sit together in the cushy front seats. Tonya shakes her head about this car every time she’s in it.
I say, “I think your Bureau buddies should check with the DEA to see if any companies in Highland Isle have informed DEA that they’re going to manufacture carfentanil.”
“Okay,” she says.
“My hunch is DEA will tell you that there is one place, a company called Vox VetMeds, VVM, in the Tech Park.”
“Ah,” says Tonya.
I tell her that someone should sit on VVM starting tonight after midnight, using no radio or cell phones and watching out for the various anti-surveillance systems at Direct. After what’s leaked from Highland Isle to Cornish and the Ritz, I tell her it would be better if it was her or the FBI on the stakeout.
“About three a.m., you’re gonna see a panel truck make a delivery and take something away,” I tell Toy.
“Bust the driver?”
“Not yet. Because that would put Mr. Vojczek on high alert. Maybe tail the truck with somebody you know won’t fuck it up. If they follow the truck and get enough for probable cause, your Bureau friends could place a covert GPS tracking device on the vehicle. Find out where he’s going, who he sees.”
“Good thinking, Detective.”
“So what’s leaving the factory in the truck is, wild guess, carfentanil,” I say.
“Okay.”
“And if you sit on the place about 4:45 p.m., you’ll see the night security guard arrive. He’s still on duty when the panel truck shows up.”
“Secondo?”
“Secondo. No chance Vojczek didn’t put him in there, but I bet there’s a layer or two between Ritz and whoever got the order at the company to hire Sid.”
“But we think Ritz owns the place?”
“Maybe not on paper. Moses’s team will have grand jury subpoenas, so they’ll probably do a lot better than me in proving that. But given what’s going out the back door, I bet Ritz is careful to keep his distance. Maybe Ritz is controlling the board somehow. Or he has somebody fronting for him as the main shareholder. But he told Walter all about carfentanil before he showed up with it in Blanco’s apartment. And there’s only one place in town it comes from.”
“DEA makes companies like that keep a close count on all the chemicals used to manufacture that stuff,” Tonya tells me.
I think for a second.
“Okay,” I say, “so now we know what the panel truck is delivering—replacements for what’s used to produce the carfentanil.”
Tonya tilts her head at me like a curious dog.
“How much of this did you come back to town with, and how much did you figure out on your own?”
“The second. I’ve had this feeling for a while that Ritz’s thing with the Chief has to do with the Tech Park. Only I thought it was about Northern Direct. That’s why I started watching.”
From her wary eyes, I can see she knows I’m bullshitting and why.
“But Joe from Arizona,” she says. “That’s your guy?”
I don’t answer her.
“Only you couldn’t have gotten back and forth from Arizona that fast. Did you meet him someplace in between? Kansas City? Colorado?”
I give her a death stare and reach across to open the passenger door without another word.
On Thursday, Rik asks the Chief to come in to the office. Rik is already preparing to move into a bigger office upstairs, and the conference room feels even more cramped now that I know that. He’s interviewed a woman about my age who has two kids and is interested in working part time as his associate. Rik is finally getting what he wants. I just hope it doesn’t kill him.
“Well,” says the Chief, who looks far better rested, when she rolls in, “it can’t be terrible if I’m not in my nightie.” She is in fact in uniform.
Rik points her to a chair and gets her coffee.
“There’s a complication,” says Rik.
“Okay.”
“You know I’ve been waiting for Marc to dismiss the P&F complaint since Blanco died, and he keeps dragging his feet. He finally fessed up this morning. The Reverend and Mrs. Langenhalter don’t want to close the case yet. They have no question that the first two witnesses are liars and that Blanco’s testimony needs to be stricken because there was no cross. But, the Reverend says, it seems to have been conceded by the defense that you were sleeping with officers under your command. He thinks you need to answer questions about that before the case is dismissed.”
“Ah.” The rosy look she had a second ago has vanished.
“Those weren’t the charges,” I say. Rik gives me a kind of startled smile, like, ‘Look at you, getting all technical.’
“True,” says Rik. “But they can amend their complaint whenever they like, if we force them to.”
“And if I just say I’d rather not,” the Chief asks.
“They can order you to testify, and probably will. I’ve already explained to Marc that the FOP contract has no rules about ‘fraternization’ between officers. He knows that. But you can guess his answer—you’re management.”
“Are they going to fire me after all this?”
“The Rev hasn’t told Marc what they’re thinking. But Marc suspects they’ll want some admission of questionable judgment and behavior. Maybe they’ll reprimand you with a brief suspension, so the rules are clear going forward. But they’ll acknowledge the ambiguity as a reason not to remove you.”
Her face is squinched up in consternation. That outcome was what the Chief said she would accept to start, but it doesn’t sound as good after being on the rack for three months. She’s ready for this to end. It’s like COVID. It never goes away.
“But won’t the commissioners ask her about that picture?” I say.
From the way he bobs his head, I can tell Rik didn’t want to go there yet.
“There may be a way to finesse that,” Rik says. “Moses won’t want any mention of the Ritz in public. Maybe the commission will accept that the photograph was taken before you became Chief and is beyond the scope of the complaint.”
Lucy shakes her head sadly.
“Steven will go whoop-ass as soon as I concede the picture is real. Rik, you’re the one who told me the night Blanco testified that the mayor can’t just say okay about sex in an office the public pays for.”
Rik doesn’t answer. He’s thinking. But she’s right. Logic says she should resign now, if testifying will doom her anyway.
“Actually,” I say, “I’ve been thinking about something.”
“Uh-oh,” says Rik, but he’s smiling.
“What if we can flip the script?”
“Okay,” says Rik. He’s wary but interested.
“What if the big news about the Chief has nothing to do with this? Or is much much larger than all this?”
“And what might that be?” the Chief asks.
“How I got this idea, Chief, was listening to you thinking out loud about Walter, and you saying that sending him in on the Ritz didn’t seem like it had much chance of success. And I started thinking, Well, what if the person who makes the move on Ritz is nobody he’d ever expect and who has no connection to Blanco’s murder? Somebody he hates enough that he couldn’t resist the chance to speak to her?”
“Yo?” The Chief touches the buttons on her service blouse. But her mouth turns down thoughtfully.
“What would Lucy have to talk to Vojczek about?” Rik asks. “She can’t call and say, ‘Let’s chat about offing Blanco.’”
“We’ll think of something,” the Chief says. “I just need to get him talking.”
Rik stares at her. “A couple of nights ago we were hearing how the Ritz murdered Blanco. That’s who you want to sit down with, Lucy?”
“The Bureau will cover her,” I say.
“The Ritz will want to meet in a bank vault,” says Rik. “Someplace where surveillance is impossible. And the first thing he’ll do is search you for a wire.”
For a moment, the Chief’s look is unreadable. Only her eyes move while she considers things.
“I like it,” the Chief says.
“I don’t,” says Rik.
“Ricky, I’m a cop. It’s my job. The Ritz is a blight—on this town, and humanity, frankly. If Moses buys in on this idea, I want to do it. P&F or not.” She smiles a little. “And it sounds like fun.”