Pearce left the building feeling something close to desperation. Hill was dead, Rasul Salamov was under heavy guard, Deni Salamov had vanished, and somewhere in the city was a shipment of one of the deadliest substances he had ever encountered. He walked a block to Columbia Street, where Clifton’s surveillance van was parked. He knocked on the side door and a moment later it slid open to reveal Leila in the back, surrounded by computers and surveillance equipment.
Pearce hopped inside and sat in one of a pair of captain’s chairs. Leila lowered herself into the other.
‘Robert has shared photos of Ziad, Elroy and Narong with his old intelligence contacts,’ Leila revealed. ‘There’s a statewide APB on all three of them.’
‘They’ll have gone to ground,’ Pearce said. ‘They might even have skipped town already. There’s no reason to assume they’re involved in distributing the product. All they need is another Cresci . . .’ Pearce cut himself off.
‘What?’ Leila asked.
‘The East Hill Mob are gone. The Red Wolves too. The Salamov organization has been destroyed and Cresci knows not to touch the stuff,’ Pearce remarked, suddenly animated by inspiration. ‘They’re going to need another distributor to shift that much product.’
He jumped into the driver’s seat and started the engine.
‘Where are we going?’ Leila asked.
‘To see Cresci,’ Pearce replied.
It was shortly after 11 a.m. when they reached the three-storey gym on 65th. Pearce parked the van a short distance up the street and he and Leila walked towards the building. He noticed she was moving stiffly and wondered whether she needed her wheelchair, but it wasn’t a subject he could ever raise. She hated any suggestion she might be weak or need special treatment.
There were no bodyguards outside the gym and the place looked shut. He pressed the button on the intercom and a buzzer sounded. He looked at Leila and she smiled half-heartedly. They still hadn’t spoken about Artem Vasylyk and Pearce could feel the distance growing between them.
Pearce pressed the button again, and this time he got a response.
‘Yeah?’ a voice said.
‘I need to speak to Ben Cresci,’ Pearce said.
‘Get lost,’ the voice responded before hanging up.
Pearce held his finger on the button.
‘I said get lost,’ the voice told him.
‘OK. But then you’ll have to explain why you put Mr Cresci’s entire business and life in danger,’ Pearce said.
There was a brief pause.
‘Come in,’ the voice replied, and the latch clicked open.