The Station House
November 29, 6.22 p.m.
The lights in the investigation room in Manhattan North didn’t go out all night following the killing of Senator Stanhope. The FBI needed to see everything they had on the case and that meant no sleep for Blue Team.
Harper was interviewed over and over again throughout the day, but was left out in the cold as far as the investigation was going. His part in the assault on Senator Stanhope’s home had to be covered up. He was off active duty. He shouldn’t have had a gun. Late afternoon, a tired and unwashed Tom Harper appeared around the door of Denise Levene’s downtown office. He watched her a moment with a feeling close to melancholy. Then he pushed the door further. ‘Hi there, Doctor, you got a moment?’
Denise looked up, saw Tom and smiled. ‘Hey, the elusive Mr Harper. Come in. It’s good to see you. I called you six times. What’s been happening?’
‘Sorry, we’ve been strung out, looking for something.’
‘I guess you’ve been through the mill. You look like shit.’
‘I feel like shit. We’ve been tied up like we’re under some fucking investigation. It’s off the scale, this one. Off the fucking scale.’ Tom wandered into the office. He smelled like something that hadn’t seen a shower in days. ‘It’s nice to see you, Denise. You know, I never thought I’d say that.’
Denise smiled and laughed a little. ‘How are you coping with the case?’
‘Not quite come down, yet.’
Denise sat down on the couch. ‘I’ve seen what the news stories are saying about the senator and his family and I guess it was a lot worse than that.’
Tom nodded and sat opposite. ‘Doesn’t go away. That’s the hard thing. Pictures just floating around your head. Awful pictures of what he might’ve done to them. It’s hard to disengage. It’s so fucked up, Denise.’
‘You seen all of these?’ Denise picked up the day’s papers and put them on the glass table. ‘You seen what they’re saying? “Cops Save Senator’s Family”. You did good, Tom.’
‘I guess I tried, but the senator and Rose died.’ Harper flicked through the papers, glancing at the headlines. ‘Our killer just went platinum by the look of this. I tell you, Denise, every fucking deadweight from administration wants a piece of the investigation. They can’t take a piss without writing a report and sending it to the deputy commissioner. And guess what? It’s not going to make a blind bit of difference.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s not that kind of case. You can put pressure on investigations when there’s loose ends and shoddy work, but this one is tight. They’ve just got nothing to go on. They’re all out of leads.’
‘Except Redtop,’ she said.
‘No one believes Redtop has anything to do with Sebastian. Not since I saw Sebastian and it wasn’t the same guy.’
‘But you still think they are linked?’
‘I do, but what do I know?’
Denise went over to the door and opened it. Tom was still sitting on the seat, looking unwilling to move. ‘I think you underestimate yourself. Come on, let’s go out,’ she suggested.
Harper stood and followed Denise out of the door. At noon, the President would mention Senator Stanhope at a press conference. He would offer his sincere condolences and fiercely condemn the killings. He would promise every resource available for the brave professionals searching for this killer. Then he would stamp his fist on the lectern and look hard and serious into the camera.
Out on the street, Harper was expecting a cup of coffee and a doughnut, but Denise Levene had other plans. She took him to her car and stood with the door open. ‘I know that everyone thinks you’re off-beam about the kidnappings and Redtop but I believe you, Tom. And it’s the only possible link that hasn’t been exhausted, so we’ve got to find out as much as we can about Redtop.’
‘Can’t I sleep first?’ said Harper. ‘Deal with this tomorrow?’
‘You could try,’ said Denise. ‘But you’d just lie there and see dead bodies running around your head. What’s the attraction? Come on. We’ve got to get you back to the only link you’ve got with the killer and that’s East 126th Street.’