Read Online Friends at Homeland Security by Carl Douglass - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Carl Douglass
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drilling holes in his eyes with theirs. There is no mercy in any of the four pairs of steely eyes staring into his.
“I’ll cooperate all the way. Please put in a word about what I asked for. Please don’t make it life in prison. I’m a family man. As soon as I complete writing down everything I know, you have to promise that you will get my family out of harm’s way. They’ll know in a minute. They always know, and they know everything, believe me.”
“‘They’ being the Sorianos?” I ask for the record.
“Yes,” he sighs.
He picks up the first pen and begins to concentrate on the yellow legal pad. Soon he is industriously filling page after page, pausing only to try to be accurate about dates, times, places, and people. What he produces will bring down the Soriano family and a significant number of Russian Mafiosos who are living in the US. He is also signing his own death warrant.
The detectives return in three hours to check on his progress. The legal pad and three pens are set aside, and the hard-nosed banker’s head is lying on the conference table. He sits sobbing.
I sit beside him. “A couple of more things, Mr. Whitehead. First, did you kill Decklin Marcus?”
“Most certainly not!” he exclaims emphatically and convincingly.
“Did you order his death?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Do you know who did?”
“Not for sure, and I would tell you if I did. I have my suspicions about the boy’s father who had the most to lose if his boy ratted on us. Howard took the money from the Sorianos and the Russians as a lifeline just like I did. Both of us would be ruined if the truth got out. Angus McTavish was involved with the Sorianos just like Marcus and me, but I’m less sure of my suspicions about him for doing anything to harm Decklin than I am of Howard.”
As soon as MacLeese and Redworth take Whitehead away to the safe house at Fort Meade, Caitlin, Ivory, and I put our heads together about what we should do next. Ivory—ever the up-the-center-charger—votes for a confrontation with Howard Marcus right now. Caitlin is an analyst, and she wants to learn more about Marcus’s involvement with the Sorianos and what role the Russians played—are playing—in all of this. For the moment, we all agree that events have been moving so fast that it is likely that the Sorianos don’t yet know what has come down.
“Okay,” I say, “this is what I think we should do. Let’s split up. Ivory, you’re in pretty thick with the Marcuses. Why don’t you have a slightly more than casual sit-down with them and see if they might accidentally spill a little. But not too much of Mr. Nice Guy. Before you leave them, you have to confiscate every means of communication to the outside of the house and get them isolated. Caitlin, get some of your old CIs to snoop and give us something that ties the family to either or both of the American or Russian mobs. Find Decklin’s friends—use the NYPD’s help, if you need to—and drag something out of them about a tie to the Russians. I am inclined to think that they are behind the killing; after all, one of their hit men did the deed. I am absolutely convinced that Mazurkiewicz did not act alone.
“I will get with the NYPD detectives and go to the FBI, the CIA, and Interpol to see if we can convince them to open a formal investigation in Russia. We have got to get hold of Viachaslau Mazurkiewicz, the Byelorussian wet work merc. That’s probably the only way we can dig up anything on the Russian mob that will convince the Russian police to act. It may take a government to government intervention.”
“A-a, boss, aren’t you forgetting the little impediment that Homeland Security is obviously involved and highly unlikely to help? They may put the kibosh on our whole plan for reasons of their own,” Ivory says.
“Yeah, I know,” I say, “but I’m just going to blunder ahead and see what happens.”
“Good plan,” Ivory says. “You seem to have worked
“I’ll cooperate all the way. Please put in a word about what I asked for. Please don’t make it life in prison. I’m a family man. As soon as I complete writing down everything I know, you have to promise that you will get my family out of harm’s way. They’ll know in a minute. They always know, and they know everything, believe me.”
“‘They’ being the Sorianos?” I ask for the record.
“Yes,” he sighs.
He picks up the first pen and begins to concentrate on the yellow legal pad. Soon he is industriously filling page after page, pausing only to try to be accurate about dates, times, places, and people. What he produces will bring down the Soriano family and a significant number of Russian Mafiosos who are living in the US. He is also signing his own death warrant.
The detectives return in three hours to check on his progress. The legal pad and three pens are set aside, and the hard-nosed banker’s head is lying on the conference table. He sits sobbing.
I sit beside him. “A couple of more things, Mr. Whitehead. First, did you kill Decklin Marcus?”
“Most certainly not!” he exclaims emphatically and convincingly.
“Did you order his death?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Do you know who did?”
“Not for sure, and I would tell you if I did. I have my suspicions about the boy’s father who had the most to lose if his boy ratted on us. Howard took the money from the Sorianos and the Russians as a lifeline just like I did. Both of us would be ruined if the truth got out. Angus McTavish was involved with the Sorianos just like Marcus and me, but I’m less sure of my suspicions about him for doing anything to harm Decklin than I am of Howard.”
As soon as MacLeese and Redworth take Whitehead away to the safe house at Fort Meade, Caitlin, Ivory, and I put our heads together about what we should do next. Ivory—ever the up-the-center-charger—votes for a confrontation with Howard Marcus right now. Caitlin is an analyst, and she wants to learn more about Marcus’s involvement with the Sorianos and what role the Russians played—are playing—in all of this. For the moment, we all agree that events have been moving so fast that it is likely that the Sorianos don’t yet know what has come down.
“Okay,” I say, “this is what I think we should do. Let’s split up. Ivory, you’re in pretty thick with the Marcuses. Why don’t you have a slightly more than casual sit-down with them and see if they might accidentally spill a little. But not too much of Mr. Nice Guy. Before you leave them, you have to confiscate every means of communication to the outside of the house and get them isolated. Caitlin, get some of your old CIs to snoop and give us something that ties the family to either or both of the American or Russian mobs. Find Decklin’s friends—use the NYPD’s help, if you need to—and drag something out of them about a tie to the Russians. I am inclined to think that they are behind the killing; after all, one of their hit men did the deed. I am absolutely convinced that Mazurkiewicz did not act alone.
“I will get with the NYPD detectives and go to the FBI, the CIA, and Interpol to see if we can convince them to open a formal investigation in Russia. We have got to get hold of Viachaslau Mazurkiewicz, the Byelorussian wet work merc. That’s probably the only way we can dig up anything on the Russian mob that will convince the Russian police to act. It may take a government to government intervention.”
“A-a, boss, aren’t you forgetting the little impediment that Homeland Security is obviously involved and highly unlikely to help? They may put the kibosh on our whole plan for reasons of their own,” Ivory says.
“Yeah, I know,” I say, “but I’m just going to blunder ahead and see what happens.”
“Good plan,” Ivory says. “You seem to have worked
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