Read Online A Soldier's Revenge: A Will Cochrane Novel by Matthew Dunn - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Matthew Dunn
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vanished.
Now there was nothing else that could be done until Cochrane was spotted again. They were exhausted, famished, and pissed off.
Kopa ń ski asked, “Why didn’t Cochrane kill me on the Amtrak?”
Painter thought about this. “His mind might be broken, but maybe cop killing is a step too far for him. Soldiers, covert operatives, police officers—they’re a brotherhood. If he kills one of them, he’s killing his own. It would really be crossing the line.”
“Still doesn’t reassure me. He put me on my ass. I’ve never come up against something like that.”
Painter touched his hand. “If you’d opened fire in the train, it would have turned into a bloodbath. You made the right call.”
Kopa ń ski looked at her hand. “I think you’re right. He doesn’t want to kill cops right now. My worry is, what happens if that changes?”
Painter’s cell phone rang and she recognized the number as belonging to her Manhattan precinct. The officer at the end of the line said she had an important call to transfer from a firm of family attorneys in New York.
“Yeah, patch it through.”
Painter listened without speaking as the caller introduced himself as head of the firm. He said he’d been remiss in not calling earlier; he had been upstate on an urgent matter and had only just returned to the office at this early hour to catch up on what had been happening during his absence. He’d discovered that two days ago a man called Will Cochrane had been due to visit his offices to sign adoption papers. The matter was being dealt with by one of his junior attorneys, and unfortunately the employee hadn’t put two and two together and realized that the man who skipped his appointment was the same man being sought for questioning in relation to a murder. For that significant lapse, he was sorry. He gave Painter details about the intended adoption before concluding, “Ma’am, if any of the police officers Cochrane attacked last night had been killed, I’d have no hesitation in sacking my employee for being so dumb.”
Painter hung up and told Kopa ń ski about the call. “I’m thinking two options: first is Cochrane stays away from the Granges. That’s no use to us, unless we—”
“Entrap him by—”
“Luring him there on a false pretext.”
“Which is illegal.”
“And unethical.” Painter added, “We could get the Granges’ cooperation. But a man like Cochrane would see through that. Second option is that Cochrane’s headed to the Granges’ without the need for entrapment.”
“To explain his side of the story.”
“Or do something far worse.” She bowed her head, deep in thought. “It looks like that’s where he’s headed. Our job is to find him between here and there. But we’d better send a couple of Roanoke detectives over to the Granges to warn them about the situation and to camp in their home.”
“I agree. But having two cops in the house for days, maybe weeks, can be frightening for young minds. The twins will be unsettled.”
Painter smiled. Her tough companion, as ruthless as they get when he had the bit between his teeth, now and again surprised her. “The issue is whether the Granges will cooperate with us. Even with detectives there, if Cochrane calls the Granges they might try to warn him off.”
Kopa ń ski said, “We could get Marty Fleet involved.”
Painter eyed him. “Get a warrant from the attorney general’s office to monitor the Granges’ phones and e-mails?”
“Yes.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I don’t like it, but we’ve got no other option.”
His colleague agreed. “Cochrane’s desperate. He’ll be forced to do things he ordinarily wouldn’t.” Her phone rang again; it was NYPD forensics. Painter frowned as she listened. “Nothing? That can only mean she’s foreign, but that’s needle-in-a-haystack territory unless someone comes forward with information.” When the call ended, she said to Kopa ń ski, “Forensics has been
Now there was nothing else that could be done until Cochrane was spotted again. They were exhausted, famished, and pissed off.
Kopa ń ski asked, “Why didn’t Cochrane kill me on the Amtrak?”
Painter thought about this. “His mind might be broken, but maybe cop killing is a step too far for him. Soldiers, covert operatives, police officers—they’re a brotherhood. If he kills one of them, he’s killing his own. It would really be crossing the line.”
“Still doesn’t reassure me. He put me on my ass. I’ve never come up against something like that.”
Painter touched his hand. “If you’d opened fire in the train, it would have turned into a bloodbath. You made the right call.”
Kopa ń ski looked at her hand. “I think you’re right. He doesn’t want to kill cops right now. My worry is, what happens if that changes?”
Painter’s cell phone rang and she recognized the number as belonging to her Manhattan precinct. The officer at the end of the line said she had an important call to transfer from a firm of family attorneys in New York.
“Yeah, patch it through.”
Painter listened without speaking as the caller introduced himself as head of the firm. He said he’d been remiss in not calling earlier; he had been upstate on an urgent matter and had only just returned to the office at this early hour to catch up on what had been happening during his absence. He’d discovered that two days ago a man called Will Cochrane had been due to visit his offices to sign adoption papers. The matter was being dealt with by one of his junior attorneys, and unfortunately the employee hadn’t put two and two together and realized that the man who skipped his appointment was the same man being sought for questioning in relation to a murder. For that significant lapse, he was sorry. He gave Painter details about the intended adoption before concluding, “Ma’am, if any of the police officers Cochrane attacked last night had been killed, I’d have no hesitation in sacking my employee for being so dumb.”
Painter hung up and told Kopa ń ski about the call. “I’m thinking two options: first is Cochrane stays away from the Granges. That’s no use to us, unless we—”
“Entrap him by—”
“Luring him there on a false pretext.”
“Which is illegal.”
“And unethical.” Painter added, “We could get the Granges’ cooperation. But a man like Cochrane would see through that. Second option is that Cochrane’s headed to the Granges’ without the need for entrapment.”
“To explain his side of the story.”
“Or do something far worse.” She bowed her head, deep in thought. “It looks like that’s where he’s headed. Our job is to find him between here and there. But we’d better send a couple of Roanoke detectives over to the Granges to warn them about the situation and to camp in their home.”
“I agree. But having two cops in the house for days, maybe weeks, can be frightening for young minds. The twins will be unsettled.”
Painter smiled. Her tough companion, as ruthless as they get when he had the bit between his teeth, now and again surprised her. “The issue is whether the Granges will cooperate with us. Even with detectives there, if Cochrane calls the Granges they might try to warn him off.”
Kopa ń ski said, “We could get Marty Fleet involved.”
Painter eyed him. “Get a warrant from the attorney general’s office to monitor the Granges’ phones and e-mails?”
“Yes.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I don’t like it, but we’ve got no other option.”
His colleague agreed. “Cochrane’s desperate. He’ll be forced to do things he ordinarily wouldn’t.” Her phone rang again; it was NYPD forensics. Painter frowned as she listened. “Nothing? That can only mean she’s foreign, but that’s needle-in-a-haystack territory unless someone comes forward with information.” When the call ended, she said to Kopa ń ski, “Forensics has been
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