Night Fall

Kate nodded slowly, then smiled for the first time. She said, “Older men have a good understanding of how the world works.”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

“I feel much better. Nothing bad is going to happen tomorrow.”

“In fact,” I said, “something good may happen.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. But whatever happens, it’s time for us to put in for a

“That’s a great idea. I’d like to go to Paris. Where are you going?”

Mrs. Corey was developing a sense of humor. I said, “I’d like to see where Dewar’s Scotch is made. I’ll send you a postcard.”

She stood, came over to me, and sat in my lap. She put her arms around me and her head on my shoulder and said, “No matter what happens tomorrow, we can handle it because we’re together. I don’t feel so alone anymore.”

“You’re not alone.” But as soon as I said that, I had an unsettling thought; if I was Jack Koenig, I knew how I would handle Mr. and Mrs. Corey.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Captain David Stein did not keep me waiting, and at 9A.M. sharp, I walked into his corner office.

He didn’t stand, but he never does unless you’re the police commissioner or higher, and he motioned me to a chair across from his desk. He spoke first and said, in his gruff and gravelly voice, “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” I couldn’t read anything in his face. I mean, he looked pissed, but he always looks like that.

NYPD Captain David Stein, I should mention, has a difficult job because he has to play second fiddle to FBI Special Agent-in-Charge Jack Koenig. But Stein is a tough old Jew who doesn’t take much crap from anyone, me included, and Jack Koenig in particular.

Stein has a law degree hanging on his wall so he could talk to the FBI in their language when he needed to. He had come to the task force from the NYPD Intelligence Unit, formerly known as the Red Squad, but there weren’t too many Reds around these days so the NYPD IU has shifted its focus to Mideast terrorism. Stein once said to me, “I liked the fucking Communists better. They played the game with a few rules.”

Nostalgia’s not what it used to be.

Anyway, Stein, like me, probably missed the NYPD, but the police commissioner wanted him here, and here he was, about to get up my ass about something. Stein’s problem, like mine, was divided loyalty. We worked for the Feds, but we were cops. I was sure he wasn’t going to be hard on me.

He looked at me and said, “You’re in a world of shit, buddy.”

See?

He continued, “You fuck some boss’s wife or something?”

“Not recently.”

He ignored that and said, “Don’t you even know how you fucked up?”

“No, sir. Do you?”

He lit the stub of a cigar and said to me, “Jack Koenig wants your balls on his pool table. And you don’t know why?”

“Well… I mean, it could be anything. You know how they are.”

He didn’t and wouldn’t respond to that, but it did remind him that we were brothers.

He puffed on his cigar. There hasn’t been smoking allowed in Federal buildings for about five years, but this was not the time to bring this up. Actually, Stein’s ashtray was sitting on a NO SMOKING sign.

He looked at a note on his desk and said to me, “I have word that no one could reach you yesterday, by phone or beeper. Why’s that?”

“I turned off my cell phone and beeper.”

“You’re not supposed to ever turn off your beeper.Ever.” He asked me, “What if there was a national alert? Wouldn’t you like to know about it?”

“Yes, I would.”

“So? Why’d you turn your phone and beeper off?”

“No excuse, sir.”

“Make one up.”

“I’ll do better than that. The truth is, I didn’t want to be tracked.”

“Why? You fucking somebody?”

“No.”

“What’d you do yesterday?”

“I went out to the Hamptons.”

“I thought you were sick.”

“I wasn’t sick. I took a day off.”

“Why?”

Remembering my own advice to Kate, I replied, “I’m doing some work on the TWA 800 case. On my own time.”

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then asked, “What do you mean on your own time?”

“The case interests me.”

“Yeah? What’s so interesting?”

“The bullshit. Bullshit interests me.”

“Yeah, me, too. So, you mean, no one told you to look into this case? It was your idea?”

“I went to the five-year a

“You go with your wife?”

“I did.”

“And that got you thinking about TWA 800?”

“Right.” I added, “I think there were a few things missed on that case.”

“Yeah? And you’re going to get it straight?”

“I’m trying. On my own time.”

He thought about that awhile, then said to me, “Koenig wouldn’t tell me why you were in deep shit. He told me to ask you. I think this TWA thing is the reason. What do you think?”

“That’s probably it, Captain. They get all weird about that case.”

“Corey, why do you stick your nose where it doesn’t belong?”

“I’m a detective.”

“Yeah, I’m a detective, too, sport. But I follow orders.”

“What if they’re not lawful orders?”

“Don’t pull that John Jay shit on me. I’m a lawyer. I have more bullshit in my little finger than you have in your whole fucking body.”

“Yes, sir. What I mean is-”

“Did anyone tell you directly not to poke around that case?”

“Yes, sir. Liam Griffith. At the memorial service. He was there for some reason. But I don’t work for Liam Griffith. Therefore, his order-”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, listen up. I like you, Corey. I really do. But you’ve caused me a lot of problems in the short year you’ve been here. You get away with some shit because, one, you’re a contract agent, two, you were wounded in the line of duty, twice. Three, you did a good job on the Khalil case. And four, and I mean this, you’re good at what you do. Even Koenig likes you. Well, he doesn’t like you, but he respects you. You’re an asset to the team. And so is your wife. People like her, even if they don’t like you.”

“Thank you.”

“But you’re a loose ca

It looked like I was getting off easy, but I smelled something bad and it wasn’t just Stein’s cigar. I said, “Well, if you’re asking for my resignation-”

“Did I say that? I gave you a choice of getting yourself under control or resigning. Is that such a hard decision? Just tell me you’ll be a good boy. Come on. Tell me.”

“Okay… I’ll…” Change the subject. “Captain, I can’t believe they didn’t tell you what this was all about. Maybe I’m confessing to the wrong thing.”

“What else have you done wrong?”

“I play video poker on my government computer.”

“Me, too. You know Chaplain Mike Halloran? You know him, right? The priest.”

“Yeah, he-”

“Here. He taught me something. Look.” Stein raised his hand with the cigar in it and made a little waving motion. “All your sins are forgiven. Go and sin no more.”

And I thoughtI was nuts. I said, “That’s great. Well, then I’ll-”

“I got a few more things here.” He shuffled around his untidy desk and said to me, “I got an assignment for you. This is straight from Koenig.”

“Speaking of which, Kate is talking to him right now.”

“Yeah. I know that.”

“Does he want to see me?”

“I don’t know.” He found a manila file folder and opened it. I hate when people do that.

He said, “You remember Mission: Impossible?”

“Uh… not very well. I’m an X-Files guy.”

“Yeah. Well, this is Mission: Impossible. How’d that go? Your mission, if you choose to accept it… like that. Right?”

I didn’t reply.

He looked down at the folder and said, “You following this shit about Aden?”