Chapter 9
Reed soon arrived at Mac's office. He was anxious to get a story from Mac. He knew it would definitely get attention. "Hi, Mac," he said as he came in.
"Hi," Mac replied.
Reed began unpacking his notepad, and computer. "So, what's this story about?" he asked.
"It's about that missing flash drive. I want you to report some information for me. We're going to try and catch ourselves a black mailer."
Mac could see the excitement in Reed's eyes. He told him the whole story about what happened, and then he told him about the fact that whoever had the flash drive would be intimidating and blackmailing the people who were on it. He wanted anyone who heard from anyone threatening them to call the police and let them know, or come to the precinct and report it. He wanted to find the person who was responsible for all these murders and for kidnapping, torture, and several other crimes.
"Wow!" Reed said as he was finishing his interview with Mac. "This is going to put me over the top."
"Just get it right, and don't leave out any details," Mac said.
"Don't worry! Can I stay here to type all this in?"
"Sure. But you need to use the conference room."
Mac showed Reed to the conference room, and then he went back to his office. His phone rang. "Taylor," he answered.
"Mac, where are you?" Sinclair asked.
"I'm sitting in my office."
"We need to have a talk about the situation you were involved in at that bar."
"Chief, I haven't had time to write a report about that yet. As you know, I have been in the hospital."
"Yes, I know that. You still have another day of suspension. Why are you in your office?"
"I'm not working in the lab, Chief. I'm trying to figure out who has that flash drive."
"You getting anywhere?"
"Not yet."
"Whatever you're doing, don't step on any high society toes."
"Chief…"
"Don't argue with me. Until you have some unquestionable facts, we can't step on those toes. If you bring me facts that no one can deny, I'll step on them for you."
Mac was silent a moment. He knew what Sinclair meant. "Okay, Chief, I will try to get some unquestionable facts," he said.
"Good. Just let me know."
The call ended. Mac leaned back in his chair. He did not want to tell Sinclair about his plan because he did not want him to object to it. Reed would make a good story, Mac knew that. He just hoped it would get the attention they wanted it to get.
Mac had no desire to go home, so he just sat in his chair and leaned back. He grimaced as his hand and wrist ached. He would just bear the pain although it was hard to concentrate on things when one was in pain. He picked up a folder on his desk and read over it before he signed it. He had quite a few of them. Even though he was suspended, he would still have to sign everything.
Later, Mac was awakened when Reed came into his office. "Hey, I finished the story," he said. "You want to read it before I publish it?"
Mac sat up and his hand ached even worse now. "That's okay," he said. "Just get it in the paper as soon as possible."
"It'll be online too."
"Great."
Mac leaned back again. He was sleepy and he did not have to worry about security in this building…
The next morning, Stella came in to work and saw Mac sleeping in his chair. She did not know when he had come back to the office. She had thought he was at home resting. She also knew he was still suspended. She went into his office. "Morning, Mac," she said quietly.
Mac started out of his sleep. "Morning?"
"Yes. It's morning."
Mac sat up and rubbed his face. He thought he must have still had some effects from that pain medicine if he slept all night. "I guess I fell asleep," he said.
"Looks like it," Stella replied. "Mac, what are you doing here?"
Mac yawned. "I was working on a plan to find out who has that flash drive." He stood up. "I'll talk to you later." He went to the bathroom and then to the showers. He would just wear what was in his locker, which was a pair of jeans and a polo shirt. He took a shower, which was not easy with a hand in a cast, and got dressed in those clothes. He supposed if one did not go home, they had to just wear what was available.
Mac paced in his office. He wanted to see that newspaper and see that article. He looked at his watch and thought the newsstand should be stocked by now. He went to the elevator and went down to the stand to look for the newspaper.
"Good morning, Detective Taylor," Barry, the guy at the newsstand, said.
"Morning," Mac replied.
"You looking for your usual paper?"
"No. I'm looking for a different one today." He got one of the papers and paid for it.
"You looking for something in particular?"
"Yes." Mac found the article on the second page. He looked at Barry. "I'd like you to kinda display that article."
Barry looked at it. "For you, I'll do it."
"Thanks."
Mac went back to his office. He had to admit, Reed was a good writer. He had not left out anything. Now, he just had to wait to see if it would get the response he was looking for.
Just as Mac was about to sit down, his phone rang. "Taylor," he answered.
"Mac, how's the hand this morning?" Sinclair asked.
"Sore."
"You feel like writing some tickets?"
Mac frowned. "Chief, can't we just…"
"No. This is from the commissioner, and you know it."
"Chief, I am trying to find out who has this flash drive."
"Mac, why don't you go to the commissioner's office and tell him that?"
"Okay, Chief, you made your point."
"Just keep your phone handy."
Mac went to Stella. "If anyone calls this lab about that flash drive, call me immediately," he said.
"Where are you going?" Stella asked.
"To finish out my punishment."
Stella frowned. "I'm sorry, Mac."
"Don't be sorry, just call me if you hear anything."
Mac went to the elevator and went down to the lobby. Don was coming in the door. "Hey, Mac," he said. "I saw that article in the paper. You think it will work?"
"I don't know, but I'm waiting to see."
"Where you going?"
"To finish out my punishment."
"Oh. You want me to drive you?"
"Sure."
They went out to Don's car and started for the DMV. Mac sighed. "I need some breakfast," he said.
"Coming right up," Don replied. "How about I just run in and get us something to go?"
"That's good."
Don pulled into a diner and went inside. Mac grimaced as his hand and arm ached. He refused to take any more of those pain pills but he was definitely in pain. He hoped the pain would subside after a day or two.
Don soon came back with two breakfasts and two cups of coffee. "So, Mac, what do you hope to accomplish by putting in that article?" Don asked.
"I'm hoping someone will come forward who knows something," Mac said. "All we need is some sort of clue to go on. Right now, we have nothing."
"You think whoever has this flash drive is the one who has been killing people?"
"Or having them killed. They would have killed us if they had not thought they could get that flash drive out of us."
"Yeah."
"You're not still feeling sorry for that Nathan guy, are you?"
"No."
"Good."
They sat there and watched the street while they ate, and then Don drove Mac to the DMV. "I'll wait for you and take you to your street," Don said.
Mac nodded. He went inside and got his uniform and his assignment. Then Don drove him over to his street. "I'll pick you up this evening," Don said.
"Thanks," Mac replied.
Mac started his walk. He would be out there all day writing parking tickets. He hoped maybe walking would keep his circulation going good and maybe his hand would not ache as much. He wrote several parking tickets without incident, but then as he was writing one, he heard someone yell, "Hey!"
Mac tried not to sigh and roll his eyes. He looked around and there was a tall woman coming toward him who looked like she could just about throw him over the car. "Don't put a ticket on my car!" she said with a deep Brooklyn accent.
"Ma'am, your meter is tripped," Mac informed her. "I have to put a ticket on your car."
"I was in there trying to do something important!"
"We all are."
Mac continued writing the parking ticket. "You just don't care, do you?" the woman asked.
Mac looked at her. "Lady, I have been walking up and down this street all morning, and I have written a lot of tickets. People are going to have to realize that there are rules about parking on these streets. There are a lot of people looking for parking spaces, and if you're in there and not paying your meter, you need to get out here and move out so that someone else can have this space."
The woman narrowed her eyes at him. She looked at his badge. "Detective?! What are you doing out here writing tickets if you're a detective?" she asked.
Mac did not answer that question. He just finished the ticket and gave it to her. She snatched it and then put another quarter in the meter. Mac just walked on. He hated meeting angry people like that. They could rest assured that he did not like this job either.
As Mac was walking, his phone rang. "Taylor," he answered.
"Mac, I think we have something," Don said.
"Like what?" Mac asked and stopped.
"Someone saw that article, and they know who has that flash drive."
"Who?"
"They wouldn't say over the phone."
"Well, who is it?"
"A guy named Russell Bennett. I've had to arrest him a couple times, but he says he knows who has it."
"Is he coming to the precinct?"
Don chuckled at that. "Nah, he wants me to come and meet him," he said. "He's not too fond of the precinct, and he doesn't want anyone to see him coming there."
"I see. When are you meeting him?"
"Tonight around nine at The Vine."
"The Vine?"
"Yeah, some bar. I wonder if they have vines growing all over it."
"I guess we'll find out because I'm going with you."
"Great. You get off meter maid duty at six?"
Mac frowned. "I am not a meter maid." He could almost see the amusement on Flack's face. "You just be here to get me."
"Yes, sir."
Mac ended that call. He would get that Flack when he saw him again. He walked on with his…he hated being called a meter maid. He was not a meter maid, he was a first grade detective! He thought they could have just suspended him rather than have him out here like this.
By the time 6:00 came, Mac was totally fed up with meter maid duty. He was glad to see Don waiting for him. He got into the car and slammed the door. "Get me out of here," he said.
"Bad day, huh?" Don asked.
"Just drive!"
Mac sighed as he leaned back on the seat. "I don't like dealing with irritable people who think I am beneath them," he said.
"I think we deal with those kinds of people every day," Don replied.
Mac looked at him. "I am in no mood for joking."
"I can see that."
They went to the DMV and Mac went in to turn in his book and the uniform he was wearing. He got into his other clothes and went back out to Don's car. "Where to?" Don asked.
"I want something to eat," Mac said. "I want a pizza."
"I know where we can get a good one."
Mac leaned back on the seat while Don drove to the restaurant. He was tired, more tired than he usually was after a whole day of investigating. Plus, his hand and wrist were killing him. He thought the pains were involving his whole arm. He wished he could just go home and curl up in his bed and not come out until this pain was gone. He was not sure he could eat, but he would try, and he hoped he did not get sick for his trouble.
Don noticed Mac's silence. "Are you okay, Mac?" he asked.
"Yes," Mac said without opening his eyes. "I'm tired! You know how many irritable people there are in this city? I think I met all of them today."
Don could not help but smile at that. "I know you're smiling," Mac said. "You think this is really funny."
"I can't help it," Don said. "You're out there writing parking tickets, and you should be in your office trying to find this murderer. It's just so ridiculous."
"I think they just wanted to keep me out of the way for a while."
Don was silent again. He thought about telling Mac that Stella and Jess were up to something, but he thought he probably should not. He did not like Jess being in that dangerous situation, even if it was to help Stella.
They arrived at the pizza joint. Mac thought that was the only name for it. It looked like it might have been there a hundred years. He looked at the restaurant with a critical eye as he waited for Don. "Hey, I promise, they have the best pizza you ever tasted," Don said.
"Well, if looks tell anything, it looks like they probably have a whole lot of years of experience," Mac replied.
"Come on."
Don got a kick out of Mac's sarcasm. It was the only joking that Mac ever did. They went on inside, and it definitely smelled like pizza cooking. Mac had never been to this place, but it had nice atmosphere. He even saw families with kids. He was glad to be somewhere with a relaxed atmosphere.
Mac and Don got a table, and looked at the menu. Mac leaned on the table and yawned. "Don't do that," Don said. "Makes me want to yawn."
"So yawn," Mac replied.
Don could not help himself. He yawned too. "I really have to get some rest after we meet that guy," he said.
"Good idea."
They ordered a pizza and sat to wait for it. "You think this guy is legitimate?" Mac asked.
"If I didn't, I wouldn't go over there to that place," Don said.
"Don't tell me we're going to the bottom of New York."
"I don't know. It might be below the bottom."
"Why do we have to meet him in a place like that? Why can't he just come here or to some other club?"
"Because down there no one is going to notice. He doesn't have much faith in police protection."
"I sure hope it's worth is."
"I think it probably will be."