Among Thieves

“No,” Kozlowski said, “I expect you to throw yourself over your daughter to make sure she’s safe.”

Devon started to open his mouth, then stopped. He nodded.

Fi

“A few more minutes,” Kozlowski said. “I want to test the monitors in the car to make sure everything’s working right.”

“We should get out of here soon if we’re go

“We’ll make it,” Kozlowski said. “When we get back, everything will be ready.”

He said it with ultimate confidence. Somehow, though, Fi

Hewitt and Porter sat in Hewitt’s car, parked up the street. They were keeping a loose watch on the law offices; they were close enough to see whether people were going in and out, but too far away to see much else. That was okay, though; they had the GPS device planted, and the lawyer’s car was back at the courthouse. If they were going anywhere, it was going to be in Kozlowski’s Caprice.

“What do you think?” Hewitt asked Porter.

Porter was sitting in the passenger seat. Hewitt had picked him up from the FBI office in a minor detour when their quarry had left Malley’s apartment. Porter looked nervous; he didn’t strike Hewitt as much of a field agent. He also had a feeling that Porter’s obsession had taken him over. “I don’t know,” Porter replied. His forefinger rubbed back and forth across the bridge of his nose. “Something’s going on, that’s for sure.”

“Maybe they’re just preparing a defense on Malley’s theft charges.”

“At eight o’clock?”

“He’s a lawyer.”

Porter shook his head. “It’s something bigger than that.”

Hewitt shrugged. “If you say so.”

Just then Fi

Porter reached over and turned the engine off. “Give them a good solid head start,” he said. “I don’t want to attract any attention. We can follow them on GPS; we don’t need to have them in sight. If they realize they’re being tailed, they’ll call off whatever they’re pla

“What if something happens before we catch up to them? They could be in danger.”

“If they’re in danger, they put themselves there,” Porter said. “It’s not my problem. I’m not going to risk the recovery of the paintings protecting the people who are mixed up in all this. They had a chance to come in and work with us. They passed.”

“You’d let people get killed over this?”

Porter looked at him. “If it’s that or letting the paintings slip away again, I wouldn’t even hesitate.”

Stone and Sanchez were even further away from Fi

“No we won’t,” Sanchez said. “Hewitt and his friend aren’t going to let them get away that easily. They’ve got them tagged; all we have to do is keep Hewitt’s car in sight, and they’ll lead us where we need to go.”

The traffic on the street was still heavy. Cars passed them, headed to di

“Just another minute.”

The lights in Hewitt’s car came on. It eased back in its parking space, making room to pull out, then shot forward onto the street, following the Caprice’s path.

“Now,” said Sanchez.

In one motion Stone turned the engine and threw the car into gear. They were a block behind, and Stone was petrified they might get caught at a light. “Motherfucker,” he muttered to himself. “We lose them, and I swear to God I’m go

She looked at him. “You questioning my judgment?”

He nodded. “I’ll follow your lead, and I’ll let you call the shots. But don’t expect me not to question you when it’s just you and me. When it’s just us, I’ll question everything we do if I think there’s a reason.” He was focused on keeping the tail, and his eyes were riveted on the road ahead of them, but he could feel her staring at him. “What?” he said. “Is there a problem with that?”

She turned away and looked out the windshield as they stayed within sight of Hewitt’s car. “No,” she said after a moment. “There’s no problem with that at all.”

For the first time since they had been riding together, he felt that they were partners.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Kozlowski steered the car northeast, through the quaint brownstones and Newport-styled clapboard town houses going for two million a pop, down along Warren to Chelsea Street, the dividing line that separated one Charlestown from another.

As they pulled down Chelsea and out around onto Terminal, Fi

Near the end of the road, they came to an open gate. “Pull in here,” Devon said.

Kozlowski pulled in and headed north, toward the water. Two cement structures sat long and flat, ru

Kozlowski followed the path Devon had traveled with Bulger fifteen years before, out around by the water, onto a narrow strip of driveway, then back up into the darkened, narrow alley between the buildings. “Park here,” Devon said, halfway down.

The three of them got out of the car and walked to a door set in the side of the building. A weak bulb protected by a rusted casing screwed into the cement above the steel door threw off barely enough light for them to make their way with confidence.

“You got the keys?” Fi

“Right here,” Devon replied. He pulled out two keys and tried one in the lock. It worked on the first try, and he pushed his way in. Once inside, he reached over to the wall and flipped a light switch. Nothing happened. “Bulb must be out,” he said. “Anybody think to bring a flashlight?”

“Yeah,” Kozlowski said, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a slim black-steel flashlight and flipping it on, pointing it down the long narrow corridor.

Fi

“I think shit through.”

“What’s that like?”

“It’s the last one on the left,” Devon said, following the beam of light down the hallway. Once he got to the last door, he grabbed the padlock. “Gimme some light.”

Kozlowski pointed the flashlight at the padlock, and Devon used the second key to pop it open. He removed the lock and leaned down, grabbing the door and sliding it up.

The darkness inside the tiny storage unit was so complete Kozlowski’s flashlight had difficulty penetrating it. The beam crawled into the corners first, covering the parameters of the space, as if Kozlowski expected someone to be hiding within. There was nothing. The cement floors and cinderblock walls were cold and uninviting. Then the beam moved to the center of the room.