Finding the Fit Chapter 63
"Just keep your mouth shut, and you'll be taken care of," attorney-at-law Jamison J. Vigari promises Hal Lockwood.
"I am," Lockwood, responds, "but how fast can the boss move? He's lost a lot of resources in New York."
"It'll take a little time, but he hasn't lost anything he can't replace," Vigari insists.
"How much time?" Lockwood presses. "I like to be free, do my jobs when I have everything set the way I want it. That's why I do this kind of work."
"I understand. So does the boss. He has someone on the way right now to deal with the situation."
Lockwood's eyes harden with an icy chill. "That's what you're supposed to be doing."
"I could file a writ to try to get you out, but the cops already have you down as a suspect in a cop's murder. Instead of letting you go, the DA could decide to charge you sooner. And the bail for a crime like that, if any judge would grant it at all, would be sky-high. As you said, resources in New York are depleted. It's only temporary, but the boss isn't liquid enough here to come up with the cash. They have three days to arraign you or kick you loose. But there's an alternate plan. Just sit tight and keep it zipped and you'll never have to face the judge."
"Tell whoever the boss is sending to hurry it up. The food in here sucks!"
Vigari grabs his briefcase and starts for the door. "You won't have to eat it long."
Hunt first spots the assassin, Cole Maddox, under his current alias, lurking outside the 12th Precinct. His style of motion provokes an immediate response from Hunt's gut. The movement originating almost at chest level and extending through very long legs to the tips of his feet appears in two classes of people: ballet dancers and martial artists proficient with advanced forms of kickfighting. Hunt doubts that the man drawing his attention is a ballet dancer. A question flits through his mind. Who is the man there to kill? If he could know for sure that it's Richard or Kate Beckett, he'd take him out right now.
The crack of a rifle, even from a long distance, could bring cops pouring out of the precinct, but not quickly enough to block his escape. Still, without knowing the man's target, taking out one of Bracken's minions would be satisfying but no more than a short-term solution. The hitter can't make it past the precinct's security post with a run-of-the-mill gun, but there are many ways to kill that won't show up in a pat down or trigger a metal detector. If Hunt's target does decide to go inside, Hunt will have to work out a way to follow him – with non-detectable lethal devices of his own. If not, he can watch him reconnoiter.
Kate's eyes narrow as she scrolls through recent court filings. "If Vigari really wanted to get Lockwood out, he could have tried for a writ of habeas corpus or something. But he hasn't made a move to do it – at least not in court."
"But that's good, right?" Rick asks. "Weren't you hoping Bracken would send Cyril?"
"Yeah, but I don't know where or how he would strike."
"Wouldn't the most likely scenario be while Lockwood is being transported to court?" Rick wonders. "He could stage some kind of accident or just shoot Lockwood getting in or out of a vehicle."
"It's possible," Kate considers. "But an accident would take a lot of planning, and he'd have no way of knowing exactly when or how we'd transport Lockwood. Once the DA decides to officially charge him, we'd send him to the Tombs. But he could be transported from there at any time, depending on the availability of a prosecutor and the scheduling of the court docket."
"So Cyril would have the greatest chance of success by either plotting some way to kill Lockwood here or shooting him when he's being shipped off to the Tombs. The second option would seem more likely, or at least less complicated," Rick offers.
"We need to cover our bets either way," Kate declares. "No one, and I mean no one gets near Lockwood while he's here except us or the boys. We'll bring him his meals while he's in Holding. His cell will be on camera 24/7, and he won't go anywhere else."
"He has to be allowed to see his lawyer," Castle points out.
"Vigari doesn't have any legal actions to report, so I doubt he'll be showing up again any time soon, if at all. But if he does, I'll make sure the interaction is tightly controlled. No food, no drinks, and no gifts from Mama."
From his seat at her desk, Rick gives Kate a little bow. "Respect! Sounds like you've got the alternative scenarios well in hand."
"I hope so," Kate admits.
The tall lanky killer rounds the 12th Precinct for the third time. The building is old, with many additions and modifications from various eras when the NYPD budget expanded or contracted. He was hoping that one of those modifications left an unprotected flaw he could slip through. Unfortunately, the only easily breached entrance is a coal chute that was sealed off in the late 1960s when the building along with many others, switched from high-sulfur coal to a less polluting fuel. The last time Maddox, as he now prefers to think of himself, could have squeezed through an opening that small, he was eight years old. At the time, he managed to sneak through a tiny window into the storeroom of a local toy store and steal several BB guns along with the ammunition. His neighborhood ended up with fewer squirrels that year as the wounds he inflicted grew infected, eventually killing them. He found more than a certain satisfaction in that, but even more when he started karate lessons and could inflict pain more directly. When the sensei realized what he was doing, he kicked him out of the dōjō. Still, Maddox already knew what made him feel most alive, and has spent his life pursuing more of it. A simple murder won't get him off the way hearing bones crunch and seeing the agony on his targets' faces will, but it pays the bills and gives him the opportunity to experience more stimulating pleasures.
This time, Maddox has three targets. The first one, his colleague Hal, allowed himself to be caught. Too bad. He and Hal had several very fulfilling hunting expeditions together. But the boss can't allow carelessness. Maddox has no difficulty understanding that. Out of respect for the time they spent together, he intends to take Hal down with a single fatal shot. It will have to be outside the precinct, at his earliest opportunity. The minute the cops try to move Hal, Maddox can make the shot from half a mile away and have plenty of opportunity to escape.
That detective Beckett bitch and her writer pal are another thing entirely. He would love to make their deaths long, slow, and as excruciating as possible. His plan is yet to be fully formed. For one thing, he'll need a secure location to enjoy the process. Still, He needs to take care of Hal first. Later, the time will come to bask in his other targets' suffering. It will come soon, very soon."