The Marlowe Prep Murder
Chapter 32
The clerk of the Hamptons' police force carefully measures and adds a scoop of coffee to the filter in the coffee maker, as Brody strides past her. "Chief, a report just came in for you. I put it on your desk."
He turns, forcing a smile on his sleep-deprived face. "Thanks, Chelsea."
As Brody sinks into the chair well molded to his behind, he picks up the single sheet of paper lying in front of him. It's too soon for anything much from the M.E. The autopsy reports from occasional accidental deaths have often taken weeks or even months to arrive. Apparently, bullets go to the head of the line, or at least the bullet in Manetti's head did. It matches ammunition from a gun used in four unsolved murders. That means that technically at least, Manetti died at the hands of a serial killer – probably a Cardano hitman. Either way, the F.B.I. is going to be all over Brody's ass. He grabs an empty mug from the credenza behind his desk. He's going to need coffee today, lots of coffee, but he's not about to rob Chelsea and his deputy of much-needed caffeine. He'll make the next pot himself.
The staging area for the raid is blocks from the hotel Jack's message indicated as the site of the Cardano Family festivities – too far to be spotted by the steady stream of arrivals. Fortunately, the Cardanos bought out the place for 24 hours, lessening the chance that any innocents will be caught in the crossfire. Law enforcement personnel have replaced hotel staff, further reducing the opportunity for the Cardanos to grab hostages.
The N.Y.P.D. is far from alone. The F.B.I. arrived on behalf of the Southern District, seeking to pursue arrests for money laundering and other federal crimes. Several non-descript agents also showed up, their I.D.'s identifying them only as working under the D.N.I., which would cover anyone in intelligence, foreign or domestic.
Kate thinks that for a moment, she may have spotted Jack on the perimeter, but he was gone so fast she couldn't swear to it in court. His ability to disappear is a skill she imagines he's honed over many years, but Martha would likely claim that he had it the night Rick was conceived. Kate can understand that and sympathize with it, but she has other worries. Jack's organization is unlikely to take official ownership of anything happening here. Still, the competing agencies could make pursuing her case against the Old Man a living hell. The death of Manetti may further complicate her investigation. Her phone dings a text from Ms. Harbrough. The gun that killed Manetti is linked to four other murders. That can mean continuing participation by the F.B.I. and who knows what else is coming into Kate's life.
First things first. They need to bring in the Old Man and make sure the charges based on Vonda's dying declaration will stick. The D.A.'s belief in its admissibility in court is comforting, but you never know what a judge – or a jury for that matter, will do.
Kate's radio crackles. "The primary target has been spotted entering the building."
"Teams proceeding to positions," she responds.
Rick catches her gaze. "This is it, isn't it?"
Jaw set, Kate can only nod as she starts to move toward the hotel. She will have a small army with her, but she'll be arresting the Old Man. Despite the federal charges, hers are the most serious, and she's the tip of the spear. Rick watches her go. A force in full tactical gear is moving with her, and she's armored herself, but he still wishes he could go along to watch her back. Assorted law enforcement practitioners informed him that they would keep him and any other civilians outside the perimeter, by force if necessary. And he has the feeling that Kate is relieved about that. If her guts clench for him, then his are tying themselves in knots for her. He understands too well what she must be going through.
Nico and the Old Man are sitting side by side on the dais as members of the N.Y.P.D., undercover as servers, fill glasses with Champagne. The consigliere taps on a crystal flute for attention. "Friends, family, welcome. I have witnessed many changes, many passages. Through all of it, our leadership has been strong, overcoming whatever challenges we faced. No era, no matter how well-led, can endure forever, nor should it. New times and fresh blood bring new opportunities. The torch is passing to a generation that will carry our hopes into an even brighter future. Raise your glasses with me, to the Cardanos." He nods at the Old Man. "From the victories of the past." He smiles at Nico. "To the victories of tomorrow."
Surrounded by armored cops, a Kevlar-jacketed Kate strides down the aisle between the tables. "I wouldn't count on any victories just yet. "Francis Nicholas Cardano, I have a warrant for your arrest for conspiracy to commit murder. Put the glass down. Stand up and put your hands behind your head."
"Do it, Frank," the consigliere counsels. "I'll have you out in an hour."
As Kate comes forward with handcuffs, Nico gazes around the room. The eyes of all of his organization's major players are focused on him. If he just sits still while the Old Man is arrested, he'll lose respect he may never regain. "You can't just come in here and arrest my Grandfather." Nico's jacket gaps as he pushes out of his seat, and Kate sees the butt of a gun. She motions her team to move in, as she cuffs the Old Man and points at Nico's weapon. "Do you have a carry permit for that?"
"Do you have a warrant to search him for a gun?" the consigliere demands.
"If you are acting as his attorney, I'm sure you're aware that I don't need one when a weapon is in plain sight, as that one is. Unless he can produce a permit, we're taking the gun and arresting him for criminal possession of a firearm." Kate signals to two members of her team who grab the gun and handcuff Nico.
Kate turns to address the gathering. "If anyone here is thinking of making a move of any kind to interfere with police in the performance of their duties, think again. In addition to the forces accompanying me in this room, the building is surrounded. Be smart, stay where you are, and you can find someone else to toast. A bouquet of gun barrels covers the erstwhile celebrants while the Old Man and Nico are led from the room. The consigliere gulps his wine and tries to figure out what to do next.
Nico bangs his palm against the door of his cell. "When am I getting out of here? My lawyer said the weapons charge is just a bullsh*t grade 2 felony, and he wouldn't have any trouble getting me bail."
Kate and Rick gaze at the would-be heir apparent pounding on the other side of stout metal mesh. "Favorite pistol, Nico? Emotionally attached to it?" Castle inquires.
"It's just a f*cking gun!" Nico retorts.
Rick shakes his head, giving the prisoner a sad look. "Then, I guess you must just be really stupid. He turns to Kate. "Shall I tell him, or do you want the pleasure?"
"Go ahead, Babe," Kate urges. "I'll be spending a lot of time talking to him – days, weeks, maybe."
Nico swallows against the sudden fear constricting his throat. "Tell me what?"
"Ballistics matched your gun to five murders," Castle announces. "Your family lawyer has one hell of a job ahead of him."