Chapter 5 – The Message
"I had no right to ask him, to play on his sense of honour..." The general slumped in his chair at the look on their faces. " I know that but I was desperate. I want my son back. I've just been diagnosed with cancer and I just wanted to see my son again, know he was safe before..." Martin Schaeffer looked at the group around him. "I'm so sorry..." His voice trailed away. There was a moment's silence, no one being able to speak.
"We understand ..." Sheldon began his voice low and even as he tried not to betray the maelstrom of emotions coursing through him. "Can you tell us what happened?"
"They wouldn't tell me much other than that the team had attained their objective. They had found Davy and called for extraction..." For a moment the man's eyes sparkled but he looked down as he continued. "... but for some reason they couldn't make their original rendezvous and requested the back-up location. They made contact again indicating all was well and then all hell broke loose. HQ lost contact with them and there has been nothing from them since."
Jo sank her hands into her face. She felt sick to her stomach. "Do you think they 're dead?" she whispered.
"No I don't believe so." Jo looked up sharply at the older man opposite her. He must have been quite handsome in his day. Jo could imagine him as a team leader, tall, fair-haired, intense blue eyes. Schaeffer may have aged, worry lines written deep in his face but the eyes still held a strength even though it was clear his body was letting him down. He was smiling at her. "Mac left me a message ..."
Jo's heart leapt. "But I thought you said that there had been no contact ..."
Schaeffer held up a hand. "There is a satellite that passes over the area every twenty-four hours. The pictures show that the helicopter was destroyed probably by a rocket propelled grenade as were two cars. There are signs of a fire-fight but the only bodies were those of locals, and mostly regrettably those of the pilot and copilot. The last pass showed a lot of activity in the area. My experts tell me it is indicative of a search pattern but what I found of particular interest was this ..." Schaeffer pulled out a cell phone and angled the screen towards Jo. She frowned not making sense of what she was seeing.
Adam leaned across to peer at the screen. "May I?" Schaeffer nodded and handed him the phone. Adam's fingers flew across the screen for a few seconds and then he pointed the phone at the large screen at the end of the conference table. He flicked an index finger across the cell phone's screen and the image jumped to the large screen.
"Well I'll be damned!" muttered Schaeffer to himself. "Didn't know it could do that! Could you enlarge the bottom right quadrant?" Adam handed back the cell and turned to the computer doing as the General had asked. As he enlarged it they could clearly see the burnt out wreck of the helicopter and two cars. The site of the failed rendezvous. "Now could you focus on the rocks at the bottom of the picture..." Schaeffer waited till the picture was just right before continuing. "...and rotate it 180 degrees."
"And this is significant?" Don asked looking at the strange arrangement of rocks.
"After I was injured in Desert Storm I had to take a desk job. I took over one of the aerial reconnaissance teams. We're trained to look for this kind of thing. Mac knew that and he tried to send me a message".
Sheldon who had been deep in thought for a few minutes suddenly spoke up. "Those rocks have been specifically laid like that. It's a message from Mac." Schaeffer beamed at him as though he was his star pupil. "Those are his initials." Sheldon pointed at a group of rocks.
"What?" Adam screwed up his face desperately trying to figure out how Sheldon could see an M and a T. Even Jo and Don looked nonplussed.
Sheldon grinned. "It's an M and a T superimposed." He looked at the others who were staring at him in surprise. "He always doodles it in the margin of his notepad when he's stuck on those interminable monthly budget conference calls."
"Is that a crucifix next to it?" asked Adam.
"No I believe it's a dagger." Schaeffer linked his fingers together and looked at Sheldon whose brows drew together in a frown.
"A dagger? A symbol of betrayal?" offered Sheldon. Schaeffer nodded pleased. "Betrayal by whom?"
"I believe that Mac is trying to tell me that there is someone at HQ who has betrayed them. It is rare for HQ to lose contact with a team completely. Even without the communications link from the helicopter they had satellite phones and a transponder. None of them are working. They have been switched off. That is why I came to you. Mac asked me to come to you if anything should … go wrong..." The man's voice broke a little as he spoke. They all instinctively knew what Mac had asked but they weren't ready to go there yet.
"But you still think they're alive?" asked Jo hopefully.
"Yes I do, because this was left sometime in the last six hours." There was a silent sigh of relief.
"So do you have an idea who the mole at HQ might be?" asked Don.
Schaeffer nodded. "It has to be someone on the team directly involved with the op. They keep these things to a restricted few. Even the information I receive is limited. Now I know who most of them are and I've done a little discrete checking and..." He pressed a few buttons on the phone and handed it to Adam. "...I believe this man looks like a prime candidate."
Adam took the phone and transferred the data to their system. A military ID appeared on the screen. "Lucas Mattelli," read Don. "Communications specialist. What makes you think it's him?"
"I've asked around and it seemed Corporal Mattelli has a bit of a gambling habit. However, recently he seems to have been uncommonly lucky. He has suddenly repaid all his debts and has been throwing a lot of money around. Claims he won it in a game of poker but what few friends he has left don't seem to think so. I was rather hoping you could tell me where it came from. According to Mac your Adam here is something of a whizz-kid at this kind of thing." Adam turned a bright shade of pink before looking at Jo.
"Adam, do what you can … discretely!" Adam nodded and handed the General back his phone before leaving them.
"What do you think Mac will do now?" asked Sheldon.
Schaeffer offered a half-smile. "What he always does … Improvise, Adapt and Overcome!"
"CSI:NY – CSI:NY – CSI:NY"
"Okay what have you got for me?" Stella walked into layout and all three members of her team raised their heads.
"Okay we have processed Roger Clemen's clothes." A serious-looking young man with short-cropped ginger hair and freckles answered as he looked at her over the top of his glasses. Gabriel March pushed his glasses further up his nose. "But any evidence has been compromised by the water. We have trace from under the vic's fingernails. Blood so it looks as though he may have scratched his attacker but ..." Gabe lifted his hands.
"Don't tell me." Stella sighed. "It's been compromised by the chlorine in the pool." Gabe nodded apologetically. "Okay anything else? Preferably good news."
Lisa, a plump young woman with short fluffy hair nodded. "Yeah, Darcy pulled what looks like a shell from the vic's mouth. Don't ask me what it was doing there! I'm trying to identify it now but it make take a while."
"Maybe not!" They all turned around as Lacey joined them having just caught Lisa's last words. "You said shell right?" Lisa nodded. "Stella after your call I looked up the words Lucy and Eyes. Got all sorts of hits – some really weird stuff - but one is a shell." Lacey beamed at them.
"Fantastic! Go on," Lisa begged her as Lacey searched for the information.
"Here we are. Typically found on the shores of the Mediterranean and in particular the beaches of Corsica, l'Oeil de St. Lucie is a round shell generally less than two centimetres. It has a rounded side and a flat face with a pink spiral. It is considered to be a lucky charm particularly for fishermen, and is considered to bring wealth and ward off the evil eye."
"Whoa!" Lisa turned around and picked up a small transparent evidence bag. "Like this?"
Lacey held up a photograph. Stella's head flicked back and forth between the two. "Identical," she muttered. "So Mac finds this shell at the murder scene of a law enforcement official and a customs officer in Baghdad and we find one here in the mouth of Roger Clemens."
"Does that mean that this Corsican is here in New Orleans?" asked Lacey.
Before Stella could answer, Frank Mitford joined them. "We have a problem."
"Oh great! Now what?"
"Sorry Stella, but Customs say there is no way they can search that ship. Not enough manpower. Also the powers-that-be won't sanction extra people for a full search based on some hearsay from an NYPD officer gone rogue!"
"What?" Stella was fuming. "Mac is not some NYPD officer gone rogue ..."
Frank Mitford held up his hands in surrender. "Hey don't shoot the messenger … we're just going to have to narrow down the search. Customs say that can hold any containers due to be picked up by CTC for twelve hours but without more to go on …"
Stella put her hands on her hips. The answer was there in the details. She looked at her team. "Okay bring everything you have to the conference room. Let's see if we can't make some connections."
"CSI:NY – CSI:NY – CSI:NY"
Over a thousand miles away, a similar team sat around a similar table scattered with paper, files, photographs and half-empty cups of coffee. Jo stood at the interactive white board as everyone gave their input.
Sheldon Hawkes peered at the images that Danny and Lindsay had brought back.
"What do think Doc?" asked Danny. Sheldon picked up a close-up of the long thin fingers gripping the handle.
"Above average height, possible scoliosis, arachnodactyly … could be Marfan's Syndrome. It's a genetic disorder of the connective tissue. People with Marfan's tend to be unusually tall, with long limbs and long, thin fingers. Could be a line of enquiry – leave it with me."
Jo nodded. "Do we have anything from Jean-Luc Gallet's clothes or the carpet? Or shouldn't I ask?"
Lindsay shook her head in despair. "Too much. You name it, it's been trampled through there! We have absolutely everything from dog faeces to coconut and lime shampoo."
"Well at least we know how our perp got in and out. He walked in through the loading bay. Went straight to Hall 4A. Waited for our vic to arrive, rolled him up and wheeled him back to the loading bay. He knew exactly where the cameras were. Kept his head down at all times. He wiped everything he touched." Danny leaned back in his chair. "What we don't know is what Gallet was doing there in the first place and how our perp knew he was going to be there?"
"Did Lieutenant Rossi have an idea why Gallet would have gone there?" asked Sheldon.
For some reason, the name of Elsa Rossi make Jo bristle. "No, all she said was Gallet was looking into the activities of Pierre Moreau. She said she would get back to us if she turned up anything else."
"I don't get it." Don frowned. "According to Elsa, Moreau has close ties to this Corsican. Clearly our perp is not the Corsican who's short, barely five – seven with dark hair, dark skin and built like a brick out-house. So Moreau's now working with two killers?"
As if to answer his own question, Don's cell rang. "Flack," he answered abruptly. "Yeah what?" He looked around the table. "Actually they're all here. I'll let them know." Don ended the call and leaned back in his chair with a look that clearly said he knew something they didn't.
"Spit it out Don!" Danny moaned exasperated clearly recognizing the look.
"Moreau's dead!"
"What?"
"Yep. He was found a half hour ago at his penthouse. Strangled. Guess you had better go get your cases." Four beepers went off indicating that they had each received a call-out. "Yes!" Don punched the air. "I have always wanted to do that."
"CSI:NY – CSI:NY – CSI:NY"
Ambrose Atlas walked around the back of the chair and paused to stroke her silky black hair. Such beautiful hair. "Yes, my dear. It is sad to lose a good friend but he was becoming a liability. Pierre had allowed to Gallet to get too close and it was really very foolish of him to let him find out about the venue. Now tell me what else did you manage to find out?"
"Very little. They don't have much to go on at the moment." Atlas smiled to himself as he breathed in her delicate perfume. "Detective Danville, who is in charge of the case, has footage of Angel but they are unable to identify him. They have no lead other than to Pierre and I am sure that the 'evidence' that we left for them will keep them occupied for a bit." They both laughed. "There was one thing that puzzled me; as I was leaving she went into a teleconference. I recognized her predecessor, Stella Bonasera who is now in charge of the New Orleans lab."
"Dear, dear, that is most unfortunate. How did they make a link between New York and New Orleans?" Ambrose Atlas straightened up and walked back to his desk. "See if you can find out? Do you have any contacts at the New York Crime lab?"
"I did but he seems he's away accrediting another lab. What was strange was that no one seemed to be able to tell me when he was coming back. You'd think they'd know when their own boss was due back."
"Your contact is the boss of the New York Crime lab?" Atlas was impressed by her assets but as he took in her long smooth legs and full breasts he knew how she got much of her valuable information.
"Yes Detective Mac Taylor." Elsa Rossi purred. "It would be fun getting something out of him." A slight edge to her voice caused Ambrose Atlas to look at her sharply. Clearly this man had irritated her in the past. Ambrose chuckled to himself. Perhaps there was a man able to resist her charms after all.