J.M.J.
Author's note: Thank you so much for continuing to read this story! Thank you especially to max2013, ErinJordan, Candylou, t4swp, Cherylann Rivers, and Bkworm4life4 for your reviews on the previous chapter! This story is almost to its conclusion. I feel like a small warning might be in order for this chapter. It's a little more violent than my stories tend to be. Not graphic, just kind of violent, so be aware. There's also only one more chapter and possibly an epilogue. It all depends on whether I decide it makes more sense to split the final chapter up so that it deals entirely with winding up the mystery and devote the epilogue to everything else that needs to happen here or if I should just throw it all into one, kind of long chapter. I'll see what I decide. If I do decide to go with an epilogue, I will be posting both the final chapter and the epilogue next week on different days. I'll see you then and enjoy!
Chapter IX
The Chase
"Laura, I'm sorry, but I've got to go," Fenton said as he hung up the phone from talking to Christine Roche. "Gregorio Moretti is on his way here, and Agent Roche has enough evidence to charge him. I need to get the police here to set up a roadblock, and if they can catch him…"
"I understand," Laura interrupted. She stood up and practically pushed him toward the door. "Go. There's no time to waste."
Fenton kissed her, and then he grabbed his coat and his wallet and headed out the door. He made for the stairs and started down them. About halfway down the first flight, he ran into Sam Radley.
"Is something wrong, Lieutenant Hardy?" he asked, noticing Fenton's hurried manner.
"No," Fenton told him, "but you might be able to help. Are you on good terms with the police here?"
"Um, yeah," Sam replied, a little confused by the abrupt question.
"Then come on."
Fenton continued on his way down the stairs. Sam hesitated a second or two, but then he followed him. The men climbed into Fenton's car, and on the way to police headquarters, Fenton briefly explained the situation. By the time they reached their destination, Sam was completely on board with the plan.
Being the middle of the night, the police station was quiet as the two men burst in. The officer at the front desk jumped.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
Fenton pulled out his badge and showed it to him. "I'm Lieutenant Fenton Hardy of the NYPD. A wanted suspect is headed in this direction right now with FBI agents pursuing him. We need to get a roadblock set up immediately."
Instantly, the officer pressed a button on the desk and called for his superior to come. Within a few minutes, a captain entered the room and held out his hand to Fenton.
"Captain Collig," he introduced himself. "What's this about a wanted criminal and a roadblock?"
"I'm Lieutenant Hardy of the NYPD," Fenton repeated, showing his badge to Collig as well. "The NYPD and the FBI are working on a case involving organized crime, in particular the Moretti Family."
Collig whistled. "You mean, Alessandro and Gregorio?"
"Yes. Gregorio was followed by an FBI agent to Rockport. He's now believed to be headed toward New York, and will most likely be coming through Bayport on his way. We need to capture him as soon as possible. Sam Radley here can back me up if necessary."
To Fenton's surprise, his statement was met with a chuckle from Collig. "That won't be necessary. Any time Fenton Hardy comes into my police station asking for my help rounding up a notorious gangster who's headed to my town, he doesn't need to ask twice."
"Wait, you know who I am?" Fenton asked.
"I certainly do," Collig replied. "Only twenty-eight and seven years on the force, and you're already a lieutenant with the NYPD with more cases under your belt than I've solved in my entire career? You bet I know who you are. Now, let's get this roadblock set up."
HBHBHBHBHB
Several hours later, Fenton and Sam were sitting in a car on the north side of Bayport, slowly sipping bitter coffee to try to keep from falling asleep. Since Fenton was out of his jurisdiction, he couldn't do much more than sit and watch. Moreover, he was a trifle embarrassed at Collig's eagerness to work with him, though he had to admit it was helpful.
Sam, for his part, was finding the whole situation rather humorous. He hadn't heard of Fenton Hardy until his father had accepted the case that Fenton and Mitch Johnson had offered him and he hadn't realized that Collig's praise for Fenton really wasn't hyperbole. At the same time, he had never seen the typically stoic Collig so excited about anything.
"So," he said finally, shifting himself in his seat in an attempt to wake himself up, "you must be quite the detective for Collig to be so excited."
Fenton's face reddened slightly at the reminder. "I just do my job is all. There's not that much to it."
Sam chuckled. "Collig doesn't usually fawn over somebody like that. I have to say, it sounds like you have a pretty impressive record. How did you happen to become a detective?"
"My dad was a cop," Fenton explained. "It wasn't too hard to decide I wanted to follow in his footsteps. Of course, he was just a regular beat cop in Northrop, Maine, which is a pretty far cry from New York City. That's what I wanted to do, at first, but my superiors decided early on that I had a knack for detective work, and I realized that I liked that better anyway."
"That's funny. I hadn't thought that…Well, it's just that your sister seems so down on detective work, I wouldn't have thought it ran in your family, at least sort of."
"She has her reasons," Fenton said, his voice becoming more downcast. "You see, our dad was killed in the line of duty when I was twelve. She just doesn't want the same to happen to me."
"Wow, I'm sorry," Sam said, not sure what else to say.
"Thanks," Fenton replied. "It's just a difference of opinion, really. So, anyway, how did your dad happen to become a private detective?"
"Oh, that." Sam was more than happy to get on a different subject. "He got kicked out of police academy. Not for doing anything wrong, you've got to understand, it just wasn't a fit. My dad's not one to give up on anything, though. If he'd made up his mind that he was going to be in law enforcement, he was going to do it, one way or another. The way he decided on was being a PI."
Just then, Fenton's cell phone rang. He answered it, and Christine Roche's crisp voice cut him off. "I'm on Gregorio's tail. He's almost to Bayport, but I lost visual on him. If your cops have spike strips, now would be the time to lay them out."
"They already did. I'm sitting here at the roadblock now." Fenton told her. "We're ready for him."
A few minutes passed, and then a pair of headlights became visible, speeding down the steep Shore Road, which had a sheer dropoff on one side and cliff-faces on the other. Fenton tensed. This was it.
Collig came to the window of Fenton's car. "I'm going to need you both to stay put," he said. "I know you're more than capable of handling this situation, Lieutenant, but I don't want anything to go wrong with this arrest."
"Neither do I," Fenton agreed. "I'm not giving Gregorio's lawyers any loopholes to work with."
Within seconds, the headlights were bearing down on the roadblock. Collig and the other Bayport officers took up their positions with their guns drawn behind their cars, while Fenton and Sam were ready to duck if need be since they couldn't help make the arrest.
If Gregorio saw the stake strip, it didn't slow him down much. He sped straight over it, blowing out all four tires and causing his car to swerve crazily as he lost control. The police had purposely chosen a spot at the bottom of Shore Road where the ground was fairly level on either side of the road for this reason. Gregorio managed to stop the car without crashing it, but it had swerved almost out of the circle of police cars.
"This is the police! Come out of the car with your hands up!" Collig ordered through a megaphone.
Rather than heeding Collig's orders, Gregorio bailed out through the opposite door of the car. It was then that Fenton – and Collig, fortunately – realized that Gregorio wasn't alone.
"Hold your fire!" Collig ordered his men. "He's got a kid with him!"
Fenton watched the scene unfold in undisguised dismay. The girl who was with Gregorio was probably around eleven or twelve. She was holding his hand, and Fenton got the impression that she was no hostage but rather had come with Gregorio voluntarily. Gregorio fired several shots at the police as he and the girl ran straight for the line of civilian cars that had been backed up because of the roadblock. It only took Fenton a few seconds to realize what he was planning on doing. He reached for his own door.
"What are you doing?" Sam asked. "I thought we were supposed to stay in the car."
"No time for that," Fenton told him, jumping out.
There was no time to anything more than that. Gregorio reached the first car in line, dragged the driver out while still covering himself with his gun, and then jumped in along with the girl. He whipped the car and raced off to the south.
"After him!" Collig ordered his men, running for his own car as he said it.
Fenton jumped back into the driver's seat and took off before the other police officers could.
"Wha…What are we doing?" Sam asked.
"If Gregorio gets out of Bayport, the police here won't have any more jurisdiction than I do," Fenton said. "We've got to stop him before he gets out of town."
Unfortunately, that was impossible. The streets of Bayport were practically dead at this time of night, and Gregorio was driving like he was in the Indy 500. Fenton was driving as quickly as he dared just to keep him in sight.
It didn't take Gregorio long to race through town and out the other side. As they reached the highway, Fenton didn't slacken speed.
"Are we going to chase him all the way to New York?" Sam asked with some amount of concern.
"If we have to," Fenton told him. He nodded at the cell phone that was sitting on the dashboard. "Take that phone and call the number that's saved in it. It's Agent Roche's. Tell her that Gregorio got through the roadblock and is on the other side of Bayport, headed south. We're on his tail."
Sam followed orders, and after that phone call, Fenton had him call the precinct where Fenton worked out of and have them patch him through to Mitch, whom he warned about the incoming fugitive.
"Collig notified the Massachusetts State Police, so hopefully they'll intercept Gregorio before he reaches New York or he might run out of gas, but if neither happens, there's no way he'll get past the roadblock that the NYPD will have set up," Fenton said as Sam waited to be patched through to Mitch's radio.
Finally, Mitch answered the call, and Sam explained what had happened to him. "Okay," Mitch said. "We've got the roadblock set up, but I'm not there. We have another problem at the moment. Can you let me talk to Lieutenant Hardy?"
"He wants to talk to you," Sam told Fenton.
"Put him on speaker phone," Fenton ordered. After Sam had pressed the button, he went on, "What is it, Johnson?"
"I got a call a couple of hours ago from the foster parents we put the Beretta kids with. Someone came to their house claiming to be a cop and that they needed the kids to make an identification of some suspects that they had picked up. Obviously, it was fake, but the foster parents didn't realize until it was too late."
Fenton flinched. "Did you get a description?"
"Yeah. It doesn't match any descriptions we've got on file of mob associates, but we still know close enough who it was. As they were leaving, the foster mom noticed a tattoo on the would-be cop's neck. That's what tipped her off that he wasn't a real cop."
"Let me guess. A rose."
"Yeah. We've got as many people as we can combing the area. We haven't found anything yet."
"Okay." Fenton gave him the number of the cell phone. "Call me back if you learn anything at all. I'm on my way, but it will be a couple of hours."
Fenton pressed the accelerator a little more, wishing he was in his police car instead of his personal car. Lights and a siren would guarantee that no other cops would try to pull him over on the way. More than that, he wished he could be in the right spot at the right time for once on this case, at least.
"Sorry to have kidnapped you," Fenton told Sam, realizing the awkward position he had put the young man in. "I would drop you off, but I can't afford the time."
Sam shrugged. "That's okay. Getting kidnapped by a famous cop and unexpectedly taken to New York with nothing but the clothes I'm wearing while chasing down gangsters is definitely more interesting that relieving my dad's watch at the hotel like I was going to do when you grabbed me. Anyway, if I wanted to get out, I could have gotten out before the whole roadblock thing."
Fenton was able to keep the suspect's car in sight all the way to New York City. The Massachusetts State Police hadn't caught up with them, and Gregorio's car hadn't run out of gas. Worse still, just as he was approaching the section of the interstate that the police had blocked off, he took an exit.
Fenton groaned. "What's he doing?"
"I think he's trying to get into town another way," Sam replied.
"You don't say. Call the NYPD and Agent Roche again and tell them what happened."
Sam did so, and as he was talking to Agent Roche, he glanced back over his shoulder. "Hey, Agent Roche is right behind us. I guess she caught up."
"Good, but we're still staying on him," Fenton said.
Then the cell phone rang again and Sam answered. "It's Sergeant Johnson again," he reported as he put the phone on speaker again.
"Hardy, I've got some good news," Mitch reported. "We've narrowed it down to where the Beretta kids are being held." He gave the address.
"We're right in that part of town," Fenton told him. "That's probably where Gregorio is headed. If it is, we'll be there in a few minutes. If you think you can wait, don't move until we know for sure."
"We'll hold off as long as we can," Mitch promised. "I'm waiting for backup as it is."
Another phone call to Christine updated her on the situation. Almost by the time Sam had hung up the phone again, Gregorio had reached the corner nearest the address that Mitch had given. There was a stop sign, but obviously Gregorio ignored it.
"Fenton! Stop! There's a car coming!" Sam shouted as Fenton neared the intersection as well.
Fenton slammed on his brakes and spun the wheel, veering out of harm's way just in time. Gregorio wasn't so lucky. He also swerved to try to miss the oncoming car, and instead piled his car into a utility pole. Fenton drew his gun and darted forward as Gregorio crawled out of the damaged car. Gregorio fired a shot at him, and Fenton retreated behind his own car once more while Sam scrambled out to get under cover as well.
Another car pulled up alongside Fenton's and Christine Roche bailed out of it. "Where are your people, Hardy? I thought you said they were here."
"Just Sergeant Johnson, as far as I know," Fenton told her. "More are on the way."
"Meanwhile, we're pinned down by a gunman who has a hostage. Great." Christine bit her lip.
"I don't think the girl's a hostage," Fenton said. "She seemed like she was with him willingly."
"Who is she, then?" Sam asked.
"Maybe she's the reason Gregorio's been hanging out in Rockport," Fenton suggested.
"How so?" Christine asked.
"I'm sure you've kept very close tabs on Gregorio's personal life," Fenton began, "but no offence, you haven't been able to close in on Gregorio's illegal business dealings, which he hasn't even really tried to keep secret. What if she's his daughter, whom he has tried to keep a secret? He could have been hiding her in Rockport with his Black Rose friends keeping watch over her."
"It's possible," Christine admitted. "A child would be a huge liability in his line of business, so he would want to keep her under wraps."
"That doesn't tell us what to do right now," Sam complained. "How long will it take the back-up to come?"
Before Fenton could answer that, there were several shots from around the corner, followed by a shout. Fenton couldn't make out the words, but he knew the voice wasn't Mitch's. Then he saw a little boy come running around the corner of the building.
"Cover me," he requested as he ran over to try to rescue the boy.
"Hardy, get back here," Christine hissed after him as he ran.
Fenton paid no attention. He scooped the boy up and ducked under cover with him in a stairwell just in time.
"Mario, what are you doing here?" he demanded.
"Sorry," the boy replied, making Fenton repent the harshness in his tone as he seemed terrified. "I was trying to get away."
"Of course, you were," Fenton replied more mildly. "What about your brother and sister?"
"They're still inside," Mario told him.
Just then, Christine and Sam came running. "You okay, Hardy?" Christine asked.
"Yeah, we're fine," Fenton told her. "What about Gregorio?"
"While you were making your dash, he decided to make one of his own," Christine replied. "I'm going after him."
"I'm coming, too," Fenton said. "Sam, stay here with Mario."
"And check on the girl in the car, too," Christine told him. "She didn't get out."
Sam nodded as Fenton and Christine hurried off. This whole incident was turning out to be a lot more than he had bargained on, but he realized that the best thing he could do was what he was told. He reached out for Mario's hand.
"Hey, there. This is something else, isn't it?" he said.
"Who are you?" Mario asked.
"My name's Sam. I guess you're Mario?" When Mario nodded, Sam went on, "How about we check on that girl? Let me look first, though, okay?"
Sam looked all around him to make sure there were no gunmen lurking about. Then he led Mario on a quick dash across the street to the disabled car. He found the girl sitting in the front seat. She was conscious, but she had cuts everywhere from the windshield, which Sam now saw was broken, and she was covering her face as she sobbed.
"Who's there? What's happening?" she demanded as she heard Sam and Mario approach, but she didn't take her hands away from her face.
"Hey, it's going to be okay," Sam told her soothingly. "You're gonna be okay. Where are you hurt?"
"My eyes," the girl sobbed. "I can't see anything. I want my daddy. Where is he?"
"I don't know," Sam told her, just as he heard another gunshot.
HBHBHBHBHB
Fenton and Christine parted ways to more effectively look for Gregorio. Fenton went around the building that Mario had emerged from. The first person he met was Mitch, just coming out with the two other Beretta kids in tow.
"Sorry, Fenton," Mitch said. "I couldn't wait any longer. I know I shouldn't have gone in by myself, but Mario decided to make a break for it…"
"Never mind," Fenton interrupted him. "Did you get the kidnappers?"
"Yeah." Mitch dropped his voice so the children wouldn't be able to hear. "They're both dead. I shot one of them in the shoulder. Then the other one shot him and then shot himself."
"Wait, he killed his partner and then himself?"
Mitch nodded and then shook his head. "I guess they thought they were pinned down for good. Fortunately, the kids were in a different room. I don't know what happened to Mario, though."
"He's fine," Fenton told him. "Gregorio slipped away. We've got to catch him."
"Back up would be pretty handy right about now," Mitch grumbled. Without warning, there was a shot from the alleyway nearby. Then Mitch turned to Angelo and Isabella. "Angelo, you stay right here with your sister and do not move. You understand?"
"Yeah," Angelo replied sulkily.
The police officers drew their guns and raced to the alleyway. They were just in time to see Gregorio breathing hard and standing over Christine, who was on the ground. He looked up when he heard them and fired a shot in their direction. Both officers ducked and fired back. Clearly, one of them hit his target, because Gregorio tumbled over, dropping his gun.
Mitch rushed forward and grabbed the gun. Then he bent down to examine Christine. At the same time, Fenton turned his attention to Gregorio, who had been hit in the chest although he was still gasping for breath. Mitch was at his side an instant later.
"Agent Roche?" Fenton asked.
Mitch shook his head. "He must have got the drop on her because he shot her at point blank range."
"Okay, Gregorio," Fenton said, "you don't have much time left. Better make the most of it. Who are these people you're working with."
"Black Rose," Gregorio panted. "They were gonna help me destroy my father. They…they supply the guns, I…" His voice trailed off.
"What about the Berettas?" Mitch interjected. "Where are they?"
"Bottom of the harbor," Gregorio said through gritted teeth. "Nico…lost nerve…informer…"
"Informer?" Fenton asked. "What do you mean? Was Nico an informer?"
Gregorio didn't reply. He took a few more shuddering breaths and then took no more."
Fenton rested his face in his hands. Mitch stood up and swung his fist in an arc as if he was pretending to punch something.
"This is not how I was hoping this would end," he complained. "If only back-up would have gotten here. I don't know what's taking them so long."
Fenton looked up. "Did you call dispatch for back-up?"
"No," Mitch admitted. "I called the command station for the search."
"Let me guess," Fenton said. "Alex Casey was in charge of the command station."