Ch. 40
After the festive nature of the weekend's activities, Dante and Valerie were both finding returning to the Monday morning grind a bit of a drag. For Dante's part, he was starting his day by having an impromptu meeting with Jordan, Randy and Nathan about the Joey Robbs case. "I just can't believe," Jordan was saying, "that we can't seem to get a bead on this guy. No one is this good or careful." "Oh, guys this good exist, all right," Dante reminded her, adding, "One of them is in my gene pool so I should know." Everyone at the desk nodded at the accuracy and truth of his statement. "What we know so far," continued Nathan, "is that allegedly Joey Robbs hired this Carmine Garafalo out of North Jersey to come all the way here to kill me. We only have Scribbs' word for that, right? If that's true, what's in it for this guy?"
"Money, plain and simple," answered Dante, further stating, "As far as I can tell from what the Jersey cops said, this Garafalo hires out—freelances. If you've got the money, he's got the time and inclination. And he gets it done usually; otherwise, they'd have had him in custody already." Shuffling through the file of the case, Dante pulled out the most recent picture of Garafalo and showed it to Nathan. "I know you weren't in the best situation to make an ID but does he look familiar at all?" Nathan briefly studied the picture before handing it back to Dante. "I don't think so, man. I thought the guy I saw was tall with a slender build. I could be off and it's not like people can't lose weight, but this doesn't feel like the guy."
"Well I'll tell you this much," Randy said with conviction, "Scribbs wasn't lying about his ID of this Garafalo as the perp. He was scared to death to tell us that much and from what the Jersey cops were saying, he was right to be frightened. He wouldn't throw this guy under the bus for nothing, not unless he wanted to guarantee his death."
"So there's no real way to tie Robbs to all this?" Jordan wondered in frustration.
"There seems to be no real way to tie him to anything, unless we catch him in the act of another burglary. Even if we were able to, though, he'd be a fool to cop to the higher charge of attempted murder just to get out of being popped for burglary or larceny. I'm not giving up, though—if we keep plugging away at it, eventually we'll find a way to bring him down."
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Sitting quietly at her desk in the squad room, Val listened to the meeting going on at the next desk, although she pretended otherwise. An idea began forming in her head as she brought up the lists of stolen items from the robberies Joey Robbs was supposed to have committed. Scanning the different lists, a couple of items in particular caught her eye. "Hmm," she thought as the idea she was having was turning into a plan, "I could either mention this to the guys and see if they think it's a worthwhile idea, or I can see what I could accomplish on my own." She thought back to her conversation with Anna Devane about what it was like to go deep cover and she sighed. If she did what she was thinking about doing on her own and failed, the flack she would get would be immense. But if she succeeded…
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Approaching Jordan, Val began wincing noticeably. In Jordan's ear she whispered, "Boss, I'm feeling kind of weird all of a sudden. Do you think I could get the rest of the day off to sort it out?" With concern, Jordan pulled her away from everyone to a corner of the room. "You're not pregnant are you?" "No! Trust me, nothing like that is going on. I don't know what it is—maybe I ate the wrong thing or something for breakfast. Is it ok if I take off?"
"Yeah, go ahead, get it sorted. Feel better."
"Thanks." She was gathering her purse and jacket when Dante walked over and stopped her, asking, "Are you ok? What's going on?"
"I'm ok. I have something I need to take care of so I asked Jordan if I could duck out early to take care of it. Don't worry. I'll see you at home later, ok?"
"If you're sure…"
"Positive."
"All right, then." Leaning forward, he gave her a kiss on the cheek and said, "I'll see you tonight."
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"Alex's Auto Body and Repair. Can I help you?"
"Wow, that voice sounds familiar! Could I possibly be talking to the beautiful, smart, talented and bestest friend ever Pippa Arondale?"
"No way. You could be, but only if I'M talking to the equally beautiful, smart, talented, bestest friend ever who just fell off the side of the planet Valerie Spencer."
"Now that we know who we're talking to…" They both dissolved into a fit of giggles and for a moment, were transported back to their high school days. Val went on, "How've you been, Pips?"
"Hangin' in, girl, hangin' in. How've YOU been? You took off for New York ages ago. I didn't expect you to be gone so long."
"Well, things got a bit complicated after I got here…"
"Yeah, grapevine still works, even over here. I heard about your mother. I'm sorry, sweetheart."
"Thanks, Pips. That was part of the complication but the rest is too long a story to explain right now."
"Gotcha. Then let's get to it because I know, as much as you love me, that you didn't call for idle chat. What do you need?"
"I swear that's one of the things I love about you, Pips! You know how to cut right to the chase. Tell me; are you on the shop phone?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Can you call me back on another phone? You know what I mean?"
"Okaaay. Give me a minute." They hung up and Val waited anxiously for almost five minutes before Pippa called her back. "Girl, you act like I've just got burner phones lying around here or something!" "And yet you were able to call me right back!" They laughed again and then Pippa asked her, "Ok, seriously. What's up?" "Is Alex still in touch with Nicky Finn?" There was silence for a moment and then Pippa said slowly, "He can be. Why? What could you possibly need from Nicky Finn?" "Um. Is he still in the 'document' business?" "He is. I'm asking, why?" "I need something made, I need it quick and I need it sent to me." Again there was silence through the phone. "Valerie. What's going on? Tell me what you're into." "Come on, Pips, I'm not 'into anything'. But I'm thinking about doing something and I need some fakes to help me make it happen. What would be the damage on something like that?" "Something like?" "Driver's license, maybe passport-" "Passport!" "CARD, Pips, passport card, and I don't need it to leave the country, just as an ID." "This conversation's over right now unless you tell me exactly why you need this stuff."
Val had forgotten how tough her friend could be when something didn't feel right to her. Sighing, she explained, "Ok. First of all, don't freak out on me here. I'm working at the Port Charles Police Department as an aide."
"Ok, cool. You're getting to use your degree. So far, not hearing the need for paper."
"There's a case that involves one of my friends, an officer, who was stabbed and left for dead. He didn't die, but that's not the point. The guy I'm interested in meant for him to die."
"Getting warmer. Go on."
"Ok. This guy is an alleged robber but no one's been able to pin him down on anything. My friend was getting too close in this guy's opinion to his operation, so he tried to have him shut down." "Still not seeing the need for your involvement, or for fake IDs, Val. Cut to it. What do you want this stuff for?"
"I was looking on the lists of stolen items from the different robberies the cops think this guy might have done. There are a couple of things on that list I want to see if I can get from him. If I put out the word on the quiet that I'm interested in purchasing these things, maybe I can lure him into a trap of my own making."
"No."
"Just hear me out-"
"I don't want to hear you out. This is stupid, Valerie. Do you hear me? You don't have the training or the experience for something like this! What's got into you? Why does this matter so much? You dating this guy who got hurt?"
"Not him…" "Not him, but?" "His partner." "And THERE it is. Ok, listen to me. They're both cops, right? Let them handle this, then. This is such a bad idea, girl." "I need to prove something to myself." "You sure you don't need to prove something to HIM—this guy you're dating?" "Ok, maybe to both of us. There's this woman I know—I won't tell you her name because it probably wouldn't mean anything to you—but she's lived more than half her life as a spy. Listening to her made me wonder, 'Could I pull off anything like that?' You know after I got my degree I thought about maybe becoming a cop-" "And then your mom got sicker and you needed a steadier job with better hours, I know. So what, you're thinking now is the time to pursue this 'dream'?"
"I don't know. I just wanted to see if I could pull it off. Whether I can or not, this would definitely tell me if being an undercover cop is a life I want for myself." "And if you end up dead? You said this guy you're after tried to kill your friend, who just happens to be a cop. If he didn't hesitate to go after a cop, what makes you so sure you'll be safe?" "Because I'm not a threat to him, not one he'll recognize, anyway. I'm just a girl looking for something he might be able to get for me. If he can get them, fine. If not, no harm, no foul."
"What kind of thing are you trying to get?" "Pips-" "Tell me." "On the list of stolen items, there were a pair of Sig Sauers-" "No! Absolutely not! I mean it, Valerie Spencer! You are killing me right now—my soul is literally being eaten away piece by piece right now!" "Well, not LITERALLY, Pips-" "This isn't funny, Val. It's dangerous as all hell." "It could be. I know that. I just want to see if I can pull it off. Which is where Alex comes into it…" "You're not trying to bring heat to my doorstep, are you?" "OF COURSE NOT! All I need from your brother is confirmation, in case someone calls. He's going to be the reason I want the guns in the first place. All he has to do, if he's asked, is say in an annoyed voice, 'Yeah, she's my girl—so what?' or something like that, and describe me, again, only if he's asked to. Make sure to tell him that I have brown eyes and shoulder-length hair." "You don't have brown eyes or shoulder-length hair, last I saw." "I will." "Do you have anybody besides me who knows what you're planning to do? Anyone closer to you than I am here in Philly?"
"There is someone I plan to mention it to. Look, I could be anybody looking for a gun that I don't have to buy through normal channels, ok? If I play it right, there's no reason for him to get suspicious." "When do you need the paper by?" "ASAP. FedEx it to me when he's done." "Probably gonna cost you three and a half." "Three hundred fifty—seriously? Kind of steep isn't it?" "You're a friend—that's the cut rate. Nicky doesn't make cheap, and he doesn't work cheap. I'm talking quality. Quality costs." "I'll wire you the money. I'm not gonna use my credit card." "First smart thing you've said since you started telling me about this scheme. Are you one hundred percent sure I can't talk you out of this?" "I feel like I have to try, Pips. I don't even know why, except I'll never know for sure if it's something I could have done with my life if I don't. I don't want to regret not going for it." "I don't want you to regret going for it, either. Keep me in the loop, ok?"
"Will do. Now let's talk about something else. How're Big Paulie and Little Paulie? Still double-teaming you and driving you crazy?"
"Always. But I wouldn't trade either of 'em…" Having successfully diverted her friend's attention, Val breathed an inward sigh of relief and settled in to a nice conversation about the latest happenings in the old neighborhood.
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Going to the local Savers Thrift Store, Val bought a couple of pairs of faded jeans, some 'gently used' combat boots, a couple of sweatshirts, and two hoodies. She then went to Walmart and bought some brown plano contacts to disguise her unforgettable eyes. Between her purchases and the money sent for the fake IDs, she was putting out more money than she'd intended. But if her plan worked, it would be money well spent. If it didn't, well, the experience alone might make it worth the expenditures. She hoped.
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