Page 97 of The Accomplice
‘I don’t quite follow,’ he said.
‘Don’t worry about it. We’ve got this. She’s gonna call. Then I’m going to meet her and bring her in. It’s all going to work out.’
‘That reminds me. Be careful if you go to meet her tonight. The FBI are parked a couple of blocks from your office.’
‘In marked cars ?’ asked Bloch.
‘No, it’s a surveillance team. There’s a dark-colored van outside the noodle place just down the street. I was watching for them. At least I think it’s them. That wire tap has me chasing shadows.’
Bloch, Lake and I got up and moved to the window. Sure enough, three blocks down. A dark panel van parked outside Ho’s Noodles. There would likely be other cars on the street, ready to run a three-car tail, but every move would be coordinated from the two or three guys looking at screens in the back of that van.
It was hard to tell in the dark, and at this distance, but I thought I could just about make out a single figure in the cab of the van. A darker shape behind the wheel.
‘If she calls, make sure you get the number and call her back from your burner phone,’ said Lake. ‘They could be listening to your land line in the back of that van.’
I heard Denise come through the door with coffee, and the phone rang.
For a second, we all just turned and stared at the screen on the handset flaring brightly. I picked it up, hit answer.
‘Hello ?’ I asked.
There was a woman on the other end of the line. I could tell by the sounds. No words. Just breath rattling in a coarse throat, the effort taken to stifle the crying, the sheer wall of anxiety on the other end of the line.
‘Can I really trust you ?’ asked Carrie Miller. This wasn’t some asshole calling our office to fool around, we’d had two of those calls earlier.
‘You really can. I want to make sure our call is private. Just you and me. I’m going to call you from a secure line. I’ve got your number on the screen. Wait by the phone. I’m going to hang up and call you right back.’
As I ended the call, I was typing the number into my burner.
I hit the call button. Everyone in the room was looking at me. I glanced out of the window at the van. No movement. No lights. It just sat there. Too late for any deliveries.
Carrie picked up the call.
‘Here’s the plan. We need to meet and talk. After that I will arrange your surrender to the NYPD tomorrow. You will be arrested and placed into custody, but you will be at the hearing. You will be with me, and you will be safe. I guarantee that. I can’t guarantee you will win the case. It depends on you, but I think I know how to do it. It might take a day, or a day and a half to finish the trial. No more. This will all be over inside of forty-eight hours, starting now, as long as you meet me tonight.’
While I waited for an answer, I watched the van.
‘I didn’t kill those people,’ she said.
‘I know you didn’t. But there’s a lot more than the case to talk about. Meet me in DUMBO, in the park by the river in one hour.’
‘I’ll be there.’
I hung up, dialed another number. My call was picked up almost instantly.
‘Eddie Fly,’ said the voice of Jimmy ‘the Hat’ Fellini. Jimmy and I grew up together. We had a lot in common as kids. My father was a con man masquerading as a regular Joe. Jimmy’s father, old man Fellini, ran the largest Italian crime syndicate in the country. Only difference was his old man didn’t pretend to be straight. We both loved boxing, and we spent whole summers, and most of our winter nights, in Mickey’s gym, pounding heavy bags, working our knuckles into the concrete with push-ups and chasing each other around the ring. We both followed in our respective father’s footsteps, at least for a while in my case. We’ve always been there for each other, although lately it was me asking Jimmy for help, but I knew he was only too glad to give it. That’s how things worked. And if he ever needed anything from me – I was right there, no questions asked.
‘How are you ?’ I asked.
‘I’m good. Busy. I see you are too. You need something ?’
‘I’m in the market for private hire but I’m on a tight clock.’
‘How tight ?’
‘Like, thirty minutes tight.’
‘Doable, depending on what you need.’
