Emergence
Chapter 37
From his seat on the passenger side of a black sedan, Nardo pointed as Dilly climbed out of the cab that was the last leg of her return journey from Cape Cod. "That's her."
"You're right," Luca agreed. "I'd know that ass anywhere. Looks like someone else noticed she's home. See those two guys getting out of the car down the block. They're packing. They're not our people. Gotta be cops."
"We're going to need some support," Nardo said, pulling out his cell phone. "Someone needs to have a terrible accident before they can shoot off their mouth."
Luca sighed. "Shame. I will miss that ass."
Dilly froze at the knock on her door. It could just be some kid selling something. The doorman discouraged that kind of nuisance, but that didn't stop the brats who lived in the building. She glanced through the peephole. A badge came into view. She was tempted to try the fire escape to get away, but if all the cops wanted was to ask more questions about Mark, that would start alarm bells clanging. She set her face in a bland smile and released the safety lock which was braced by a bar affixed to the floor. "What can I do for the N.Y.P.D.?"
One of the cops held up a badge again. "I'm Detective McNally. This is Detective Washburn. Are you Delilah Latshaw?"
"Yes, but you gentlemen can call me Dilly."
"I'm sorry Ms. Latshaw," Washburn said, shuffling feet encased in scuffed shoes. "We need you to come with us."
Dilly widened her eyes. "I already told a Detective Beckett everything I know about Mark Hamburger."
McNally nodded. "Yes Ma'am, but there are still a few details we have to double check. With a case like his, there are always a few loose ends. It shouldn't take long."
"Alright," Dilly agreed. "I'll just get my purse."
"Sorry again, Ms. Latshaw," Washburn apologized, but before you bring that to the precinct, we'll have to check it. New regulations."
Dilly was glad she'd already stowed her gun in her nightstand. She handed Washburn her Michael Kors satchel. "No problem."
McNally checked his rear view mirror. "I think we're being tailed. Ms. Latshaw, is there anyone who would want to follow you?"
Dilly repressed a shiver. If what she suspected was true, they were in trouble, but she didn't dare give anything away. "I can't imagine why anyone would want to." She batted her lashes. "Except the occasional guy after my phone number."
McNally twisted to look over his shoulder. "I doubt that's what they're…."
Washburn slammed on the brakes as two cars pulled out in front of him. The following car rammed the unit, hard. Before Washburn and McNally could recover, the two men from the car that had slammed into them emerged and began to fire. Traffic halted and jammed as surrounding drivers panicked. By the time frantic 911 calls were made, McNally and Washburn were bleeding out, and the back of Dilly's head had been perforated by shards of broken glass and a bullet. The cars that caused the collision had been abandoned, and their occupants had vanished.
"Dilly's dead?" Mark Hamburger exclaimed when Jace Chaffetz broke the news.
"And two police detectives are in critical condition," The attorney added.
Mark Hamburger sank to the metal bench in his holding cell and buried his face in his hands. "Dilly was my only way out."
"Maybe not, if you can tell the police anything about the men who shot the police detectives. Any idea who they were?"
Still covering his face, Mark Hamburger shrugged and shook his head. "I'm screwed."
"I'll do what I can," Chaffetz told him, "but yeah, you probably are."
"What do we know about the men who took out Dilly Latshaw and shot McNally and Washburn?" a recently returned Montgomery demanded of the cops gathered around the table in the conference room.
"Not much, Sir," Ryan related. "There were no traffic cams at the scene of the shooting. I scrubbed the video. The shooters came from the direction of Latshaw's apartment, and it looked like they were following Washburn and McNally. The plates were stolen, and so were all the cars involved. CSU is going over every inch of all of them for prints, but there were none on steering wheels or the usual spots on the passenger side. Looks like the perps wore gloves, and any other prints we find will probably belong to the registered owners or their families."
"Sir," Beckett said, "from what Castle got from his sources, Dilly Latshaw was involved with organized crime and had been for some time. Along with more deadly assignments, she used her assets to solicit favors from city officials. I've already got the staff of the Anti-Corruption Commission working from that angle. I would guess that a mob family was afraid she'd reveal what she knew about their activities. There should be a trail there. We'll be questioning her former contacts in the administration. Something should pop. But Dilly Latshaw's death also means that Hamburger goes down for the murder of Marsha Anders, and what he did to the kids. By his own admission, he knew Dilly Latshaw killed her. At the very least, that makes him an accessory, and Toni Gonzalez thinks she can build a case for solicitation of murder."
"At least that's one scumbag we can put away for good," Montgomery responded.
Officer Harrison came to the doorway. "We have an update on the condition of Washburn and McNally, Sir. McNally is still critical, but Washburn didn't make it."
Montgomery slammed his fist against the table. "Damn!" He pushed back his chair and stood up. "I need to call his family. Listen, I want all of you working full out on this. Make sure that you have a full accounting of the shooting from every witness and follow every lead, no matter how shaky. Beckett, get with your commission and continue your investigation from there. I want those shooters and whoever is behind them, and I want them yesterday!"
Louis the Lark paced the thick carpet in his office. He'd already downed two scotches, but it hadn't helped his mood. The idiots he'd sent after Dilly Latshaw had taken out a cop, maybe two. It had been stupid and reckless. They would be punished, but that wouldn't turn down the heat from the N.Y.P.D. The cops would be on the case, with guns and fury blazing. He needed to think of a way to cool things down, and fast. The trouble was, he knew that nothing he could do would completely stop the investigation. But he could slow it down. It would mean losing more people, but two of his soldiers, the biggest fools, deserved to give their lives for the family. At least they could be useful in the end.
Two dead bodies had been dumped unobserved, in the middle of the night, in the darkest corner of the asphalt-covered lot down the block from the Twelfth Precinct. A note attached read, "Deepest condolences for the death of Detective Washburn. It was a tragedy for all concerned." The DNA of the two men matched hairs found on headrests of the drivers and passenger's seats of the car that had rammed Washburn and McNally. They also matched descriptions of the shooters, obtained from witnesses at the scene. There was little doubt that they had been the ones who'd sent the bullets into Dilly Latshaw and the two detectives. The citizens of New York would relax at what would seem to be poetic justice. Kate Beckett would not relax. She needed to know who sent the undearly departed killers. There was no way she would let up on her investigation until she found out.