Zohrab led the search for Moe’s woman personally.
He had found that her name was Brae. No second name. His men had gotten a description by asking neighbors and the neighborhood convenience store clerk.
‘She’s either dead, lying low, or has left the city,’ he briefed Janikyan. ‘There’s no other way to disappear like that.’
‘She won’t leave the city. Her entire life was here,’ the gang leader asserted. ‘No, he’s hidden her somewhere. You’ve got her photograph?’
‘Yeah, boss, from Moe’s house.’
‘Take it to our hackers. They’ll find a way to track her down.’
Cutter put on the SoCalGas technician’s disguise, took the van and drove it to the Blue Goose. He found a parking spot on Virgil Avenue that gave him a good view of the front entrance.
He unfolded a newspaper, rested it on the wheel and pretended to read.
‘That house on Apple Street that the bomb blew up,’ Vance Matteo briefed Dade, ‘was a storage place for Street Front. We found traces of oxy and meth. Nothing much is left of it … it’s turned to rubble. No bodies, ma’am, no one injured, no other houses were damaged. Patrol cops vacated the street when we got that warning call.’
‘Was it Grogan’s doing?’ The chief raised an eyebrow.
‘We ran voice analysis on the 911 call. It was inconclusive. But,’ he added, shrugging, ‘he’s got the motive. Looks like he’s taking out their warehouses.’
‘You’ve made no progress in finding him,’ she pointed out.
‘No, ma’am,’ he admitted. ‘But we are putting every effort toward it. We might have a lead on why Lasko was on Jesse Street.’ He smiled briefly at the chief’s interest. ‘We got a call on the toll-free number. A man who said he was Lasko’s snitch. He was there, that night.’
If that banger’s telling the truth, he’ll know who shot Lasko. He could clear Cutter. Difiore put on an expressionless face but couldn’t help leaning forward an inch to take in what Matteo was saying.
‘We get lots of fake calls, Vance. Why is this different?’
‘He knew that Lasko’s phone was missing.’
Whoa! Matteo kept that out of all the reports. Only someone who was there would know.
‘What else did he say?’
‘He wants to meet.’ He flicked back the cuff of his suit and glanced at his watch. ‘At lunchtime.’
‘Who are you taking?’
‘Diego and me. No one else.’
‘Why are you still here? Go.’
‘Ma’am,’ Difiore asked tentatively when they were alone.
‘Yeah,’ Dade broke off from her brooding silence and looked at them.
‘Permission to be there?’
‘Where? At Vance’s meeting with this informer? No. It’s his investigation.’
‘Not with him, ma’am. Peyton and I will hang around outside.’
‘Why?’
‘Matt didn’t tell anyone who this informer was.’
‘That’s normal. I’m sure you protect your snitches back home. What are you getting at?’
‘The timing doesn’t sound off to you, ma’am? Why is this man coming forward now? He could have called us immediately after the shooting.’
‘Go,’ Dade commanded, her eyes flinty.
Zohrab brought coffee to his boss and stood respectfully by his side while Janikyan sipped.
‘You’ve got something. I can sense it in you.’
‘Yeah.’ The bodyguard’s lips creased in a brief smile. ‘Our men hacked into traffic cameras. They found the woman, Brae. She got into a car with some other man.’
‘Excellent. You traced its plates?’
‘They were fake, boss. But,’ his grin grew wider, ‘We spotted her at another set of cameras. At the Lintock Foundation. She’s hiding there.’
Cutter kept watch from his ride. Customers entered the bar and left it, but he didn’t leave his vehicle. He lowered his chi, his inner energy, as he waited patiently. He became one with the environment, as Los Angeles flowed past around him.
Difiore drove their unmarked car expertly through the traffic as Quindica read their task force reports.
‘Nothing,’ the SAC sighed in disgust. ‘Cutter’s dropped off the radar. He’s able to move freely in the city, set bombs off, but no cop is able to find him.’
‘He’s no rookie.’
‘We made no progress on the original investigation and have no movement in finding him.’
‘Matteo’s people are canvassing Apple Street. Someone might have spotted Cutter, his ride …’
‘You think so?’
‘No,’ Difiore sighed. ‘Dade might fire us, and she would be right to do so.’
‘You’re worried about that?’
‘I’ve never been sacked. It won’t look good on my record.’
‘Good to know you’ve got your priorities right,’ Quindica said sarcastically.
Difiore grinned and parked on Virgil, behind a van.
She stretched and cracked her knuckles. ‘Let’s check if Matteo is here.’
Why are they here? They have nothing to do with the GND Task Force.
Cutter watched as the car eased into the space behind his vehicle. He recognized Difiore immediately from the way she moved, the way she flicked her hair back.
He flipped a page on his newspaper as the detective and the FBI agent came out of their ride and went to the bar. He tracked them through his peripheral vision as they circled Blue Goose and returned to their ride.
‘His car isn’t here.’ Difiore took in the SoCalGas van and its driver, who was munching on a piece of fruit and reading a newspaper. ‘Nice to have the day to yourself,’ she muttered.
‘Who?’ Quindica asked, bewildered.
‘Him.’ She jerked a thumb at the gas technician.
‘He must be on his break. Cut him some slack. Anyhow, why’re we talking about him?’
‘You’re right.’ The detective waved a hand in apology and climbed behind the wheel. ‘Let’s wait out here,’ she told her partner. ‘We can’t risk going inside.’
Vance Matteo arrived just before lunchtime. He parked his ride in the lot behind Blue Goose and straightened his clothing as Cruz joined him. Both were dressed casually, in loose shirts and slacks, nothing to show that they were cops.
‘Let’s hear what he has to say,’ he told the detective, ‘then we can decide what to do.’
He led the way to the front of the bar as he checked out the surrounding vehicles. None of them roused his suspicion, and he entered the bar without breaking a step.
Cutter felt no emotion as he watched them disappear inside the bar.
Matteo and Cruz.
They could have sent other cops in the task force, but they turned up themselves.
It doesn’t mean anything, he argued to himself. They lead the investigation. They would be here.
Nope, it’s them. They could get access to my military file. He knew the Chad operation was mentioned by location, while the rest of its details were redacted.
They’re colluding with Janikyan. They must have been there with him when Vienna and Arnedra were tortured, raped and killed.
He picked his phone up when it buzzed. Unlocked it and stared at the string of messages from Beth.
This is the first text from Lasko.
‘Covarra’s here at a warehouse on Rio and Jesse Street. Come down with backup. We can get him.’
This one was sent fifteen minutes later.
‘Are you coming?’
That was followed by a call.
All of those, within an hour of his getting shot.
He called Matteo.
That’s proof. Cutter dropped the phone onto the seat. That’s what Lasko meant by ‘he didn’t come.’
He sat motionless for what felt like hours as the rage inside him swirled and eddied. He wiped his palms on his jeans when he had banked his fury to a cold simmer. It would fuel him for what he needed to do.
Bring them down.