Read Online Denouement by E. H. Reinhard - Free Book Online

interesting,” Pax said and nodded to the deceased agent.
    “He was FBI,” I said. “Hold on a second before you get started, Pax.”
    I looked at Faust. “Pax here is one of our forensics guys. What are we doing? Are you guys taking this, or are we?” I asked.
    Faust rubbed his eyes. “I have to put my guys on it, Kane.”
    “I understand,” I said.
    I motioned for Pax to head out. Hank and I headed for the door.
    “Kane, wait up,” Faust said.
    I stopped at the door and walked back to him.
    “We’re both going to be after the same guy, aren’t we?” he asked.
    I nodded. “Brumfeld was shot in the head and heart. Azarov has killed two people before in identical fashion. Plus, we have this.” I pointed to the dead agent. “Do you know, physically, what is involved in breaking someone’s neck like that? Whoever did that—”
    “I know,” Faust said, interrupting.
    “Okay, well, I’m not backing off of going after Azarov,” I said. “And I know you won’t back off of finding whoever killed your men.”
    “We’ll make it work. We need to know if it’s him, without question, before we do anything. Why don’t you get your forensics guy back in here.”
    I nodded.

Chapter 10
    We wrapped up at the condo just after four o’clock and headed back to the station. Rick had confirmed Ray’s prints on the revolver that killed Brumfeld. I called Faust to share the information with him immediately and to give him the number of the prepaid phone I was using. He said he’d give me a ring if he got anything. We were still waiting for the fingerprint analysis from Dupold’s condo. Pax had lifted prints from the various spots in the residence and was running them downstairs in the lab, the last I’d heard.
    Faust had his guys make copies and bring over all the phone records they had—a full two-foot-by-two-foot box. We had records for eight different people going back a couple months. I was thankful that the FBI had already been through a good portion of them and we had names and addresses next to each number. A cover sheet paper clipped to the front of each person’s stack showed the most frequently called numbers and what the FBI’s level of interest was on the individual. Hank and I had split the pile and started the daunting task of weeding through each phone number, along with who it belonged to, one by one.
    The first associate in my stack was a Yakov Mishutin. I pulled his sheet. He was a thirty-two year old convict from Miami. Apparently, he had a person-of-interest rating of six. What six meant, I didn’t know. Apparently, he liked to call a local escort service, a number for the time and weather, and his mother.
    I was half an inch into my pile on him, looking for any Tampa numbers, when my desk phone rang. I scooped it up.
    “Lieutenant Kane,” I answered.
    “Hey, it’s Pax.”
    “Did you get a match on any prints?” I asked.
    “Yup. I have Azarov’s prints on Dupold’s cell phone.” Pax was merely confirming what I’d already known.
    “Okay. Did you call someone over at the FBI to let them know?”
    “It’s my next call. Faust gave me the information on who to contact there. I’m supposed to send them copies of whatever I find. I’m about to do that now.”
    “Thanks, Pax.”
    “No problem, Lieutenant.”
    I hung up and rocked back in my chair.
    Hank tapped on my door and walked in. “Have you seen Bostok?” he asked.
    “No.” I glanced over my shoulder at his office. The lights were on, but it was empty. “I’m sure he’s floating around somewhere. What’s up?”
    “Nothing important. I just need the morning off next Wednesday to see the dentist.”
    “I’m sure it will be fine,” I said.
    “What time are you staying until?” he asked.
    I glanced over at the clock, which was pushing six o’clock. “I don’t know. Saturday, maybe,” I said.
    “Are you camping out here?”
    “Yeah, I don’t know if Azarov is planning on coming after me or not, but I’m not