Flu
Chapter 8
"I'm sure you all read the material I gave you, but let's have a short review," Jerry Macy suggests to the young recruits gathered around his temporary desk. "We believe the crime families, most notably the Scarpellas, are employing the services of a bomber to further their business expansion during this crisis.
"Now, we have three possible avenues for identifying this suspect. One is connecting our subject to a building in the area where the signal from electronically tagged money fell off the screen. The second would be finding the money, which is also UV-marked, in his possession. The third way is trailing any motion of those funds. We believe the bills will be used to purchase materials to construct explosive devices. Is that all clear to everyone?"
Four enthusiastic responses of "Yes Sir!" echo through the bullpen.
Anything else we can do about the Scarpella's bomber?" Kate wonders.
"Didn't the boys say Montgomery put an auxiliary squad on him?" Rick queries.
"Uh-huh," Kate admits.
"But, you're bored and champing at the crime-busting bit." Rick guesses.
"I am," Kate confesses. "I'm not coughing as much, and I can get around now."
"Hon, I'm not sure that going to the bathroom by yourself qualifies as getting around, although I imagine any number of parents of toddlers would kill for the privilege. But didn't Dr. Arain say she wanted to run another round of tests on you before she's willing to discuss discharging you?"
"She did," Kate confirms reluctantly. "She's supposed to start sometime today."
"Then after that, given your impressive history of acing tests, maybe we can get you out of here. In the meantime, I have an idea."
"Uh-oh. What idea?"
"Until this whole flu nightmare hit, we were concentrating on cold cases, murder cases with no statute of limitations."
Kate's eyes narrow. "Right."
"I was thinking that when your dad comes today, I could go spend some time in the archives checking out unsolved bombing cases. They might not be anything the D.A. could still prosecute. However, if this bomber's been working for the Scarpellas for a while, he might have left previously unconnected clues to his trail of destruction. I can bring anything I find back to you, and we'll work on it together." Rick sniffs thoughtfully. "Hmm, I might take one of those static electricity cloth things to the files first. You don't need to inhale the dust of countless crimes."
"You're the one with the allergy pill prescription," Kate teases, "But I like your idea. And you don't have to wait until Dad shows up, to go. I'll be fine."
"I'm sure that you think so, but I don't know if my father-in-law would agree. We've had more than a little time to talk, and his protectiveness of you exhibits a remarkable similarity to my desire to hire a commando squad to watch over Alexis. A father is always a father, Kate. I suspect that if he thought I wasn't living up to my husbandly duties, he would aim that Joe Torre signed bat of his at my head."
"He just might," Kate allows.
Jerry Macy is partnered with a cadet to watch the target building. He has the rest of his charges observing from the back seat in preparation for night duty. If the suspect will be buying bomb-making supplies, it's more likely than not he'll have to do it during business hours. Still, anything is possible. As anxious as they are to get into the fray, the one thing the cadets will have to learn is how to avoid losing concentration when seemingly nothing is happening. While they wait, they're quizzing each other on handling potentially dangerous parcels.
It's been almost four hours with no signs of activity, and Jerry is more than a little restless himself. "Look!" Cadet Molly Roker points through the windshield in front of the passenger seat. "Someone's coming out."
Jerry regards the red-haired slim figure driving a car backing out of the building's drive-in entrance, while Molly snaps a zoom photograph. The signal from the money appears on the team's portable scanner. Something about the man is familiar. Jerry's seen the protruding ears and narrowly-spaced eyes before, but not on the job.
Damn! Jerry remembers where he's seen that face. Their suspect roomed with his son Bert, their senior year of college. Jerry met him a few times when he was helping Bert haul his stuff in and out of his dorm room. Bert had described his roomie as an introvert, more at home in the chemistry lab than at any kind of social gathering. Given the few words of greeting the boy managed to force out back then, Jerry could easily believe that. What the heck was the kid's name? It was something Italian. Bert would remember, but as Jerry pulls away from the curb to follow the suspect, he has no opportunity to call him.
Rick swallows as he gazes at the metal file cabinets full of cases declared not just cold but moribund. With no idea how old the bomber is, he starts with the most recent arson cases. Bombs that killed or injured someone wouldn't make sense. They'd attract too much police effort and could take out the golden egg-laying goose.
According to what Montgomery heard from the fire department, the explosion that caused the fire passed off to the press as accidental, was triggered by the detonation of a small charge on a gas line leading to a commercial oven. The blast took place well after closing time. No one was injured, but the kitchen was a wreck – a serious but not fatal warning.
Cases like that would be quickly shoved aside. Rick could look for them in digitized records, but as relatively lower-class felonies, he wouldn't expect the official information to be extensive. He's searching for more enlightening informal notes taken by cops and arson investigators. Rick pulls open a drawer and sneezes. Despite Kate's ribbing, he should have taken a pill.
Carrying a stack of files, Rick triumphantly marches into Kate's hospital room. "Montgomery bent the rules a little so that I could sign these out. I've made the jump from shadow to official consultant. No money, of course, but I've got I.D." He puts down the files and hands her a laminated card complete with a photo.
Kate studies the image. "Not the most flattering picture you've ever taken, but it's better than a mug shot."
"Any picture is better than a mug shot. I think the cameras that take those are programmed for ugly, but the beauty of that little gem is I can borrow whatever I want – except for weapons and vehicles."
"Just as well," Kate comments. "So, what did you snag with your shiny new credential?"
"I have 10, count 'em 10, cases, all in Scarpella territory, that are practically identical to the recent explosion and fire. They go back 5-8 years. No one was injured, but there was enough damage to close down a business. The insurance companies were reluctant to pay off because of arson investigations. By the time the enterprises were ready to get up and running again, they were broke or deeply in debt and ripe for a takeover."
"Looks like the Scarpellas have themselves quite a racket going," Kate observes, flipping through a file.
Castle swings at an imaginary tennis ball. "They made a mistake trying to extort Manny Feldstein. And that racket is about to be unstrung."
The first chance he gets, Jerry switches places with Molly. He instructs her to keep following the suspect, while another cadet, Cary Levels, monitors the scanner. Freed from his duty behind the wheel, Jerry can finally contact Bert. He hopes that his son remembers a lot more about his former roommate than his aging father does.