GIBRALTAR

Chapter 6



Bara decided that Cisco would reinterview Santos and the boys in the presence of one of his agents over lunch. They would then be brought to the 19th Precinct to view the photos Dominguez had taken, and they would ultimately wind up at the U.S. Attorney's office to sign a statement.
     Bara also found a way to save the government some money. The FBI maintained a safe house for witnesses near New Paltz, New York, fifty miles north of the city line, and the Santos family would be staying there. He arranged the security detail for them, and that detail included agents to drive the boys back and forth to their school in the Bronx.
     Bara then drove McKenna to the 19th Precinct station house, and they saw that all the reporters who had been in front of the ambassador's building were camped outside, awaiting developments. Heidi gave McKenna a wink on his way in, but she made no attempt to question him.
     The precinct CO's office had been commandeered by Brunette, and he was there with Shields when Bara and McKenna entered. Brunette was seated at the CO's desk, writing on a pad, and Shields was pacing.
     McKenna had the feeling they were interrupting something. "What'cha doing?" he asked.
     "Putting together a press release so we can get rid of that crew outside," Brunette answered.
     "Who's going to give it?"
     "We'll decide that now." Brunette took a quarter from his pocket and flipped it in the air. "Call it," he said to Shields.
     "Heads."
     It was heads. "I guess Gene is giving the statement," Brunette said.
     "Not so. I won, and that gives me my choice," Shields countered. "I think that photogenic police commissioner the press loves is the one who should be giving it."
     McKenna thought Shields was right, but didn't say so. Brunette was a tall and handsome, black-haired man, and he was always ready with a quick comeback to any difficult question they might ask. He was also the most popular police commissioner in recent memory–and very fair with the press–so most reporters took pains to portray him in a good light. Shields had headed the FBI's New York office for ten years, and he was a well-respected figure around town, but he was nowhere near as photogenic as Brunette, and he didn't enjoy quite the same positive relationship Brunette had with the press.
     "Okay, I lose," Brunette said. "I'll be the one talking to them today, but it's you from then on. Your case, your press conferences."
     "Deal," Shields said, then turned to Bara. "Give Ray some good news to tell them, please."
     "Probably can't tell them much of it, but there is good news," Bara said, and then he filled in Brunette and Shields on the developments in the case. Both appeared content with the progress. When he finished his report, Bara officially requested that McKenna and Cisco be transferred to the Joint Terrorist Task Force. That request was immediately approved by Brunette and Shields without question, but Shields did have one question on Joe Walsh's role in the case.
     It was a question both McKenna and Bara had anticipated. "Both Sheeran and Brian have given him the rules, and Walsh agreed to abide by them," Bara said. "Nothing to the press from him until the case is over, and I'm fairly confident that's the way it's gonna be."
     "Just to be sure, I'll also have a chat with him," Brunette said, but his mind was elsewhere. He called the desk officer into the office and told him he wanted a copy of the parking ticket that was issued to a Lincoln Towncar on Fifth Avenue at about 8:00 \plain\fs20 A.M\plain . the Sunday before. He also wanted all DMV information available on the owner.
     "Anything good been happening on this end of the investigation?" McKenna asked after the desk officer left the office on his mission.
     "The dog walker was interviewed, and she's gone now," Shields said. "Not much help, the only one she said she would recognize if she saw him again was the shooter in the park. The ambassador's doorman is a much better witness, and quite a guy. Even though he got bonked on the head, he says he could ID all three if he saw them again."
     "Who interviewed him?" McKenna asked.
     "Tommy McKenna."
     "Did he happen to ask him if the dog had a license hanging from its collar?"
     "He did, and the dog did have metal tags hanging from its collar," Brunette replied. "Maybe a license, maybe just a name tag."
     McKenna wasn't surprised that his namesake had thought to ask the question. In most cases, once Tommy had finished an interview, there wasn't anything left to be asked. "How did he do with the two witnesses he found in the ambassador's building?" he asked.
     "They both say that they might be able to recognize the shooter in the park if they saw him again, but they didn't see any of the action in front of the building."
     "Are they still here?" McKenna asked.
     "I believe so."
     "Did they mention seeing the Basque woman and the other one in the park?"
     "No, but Tommy wouldn't know to ask them about them," Brunette said. "He didn't know that the action was being directed from the park by her."
     "Then for once, Tommy has to give them a few more questions. I'm hoping they noticed the Basque woman and her pal. If so, maybe they can give us an indication on where they went after the action. How about the Mercedes?"
     "My lab people are still going over it," Shields said. "The kidnappers must've wiped the car down when they dumped it, because we've got no prints from the door handles, the rearview mirror, or the steering wheel. Some prints from the dashboard and windows, but I expect we'll find those belong to either the chauffeur, the bodyguard, the ambassador, or his wife."
     "Dog hairs?"
     "Plenty from the back seat, so they figure the dog must be shedding. Long gold hairs."
     "Where's Tommy now?"
     "Upstairs in the squad room," Brunette said.
     "If you don't need me for anything right now, I'm gonna go up and tell Tommy about the people in the park," McKenna said to Bara.
     "Go ahead."
     McKenna found Tommy in the 19th Detective Squad office, enjoying a cup of coffee with a doorman who was wearing a bandage turban on his head. "Good to see you, brother," Tommy said when he saw McKenna. "Glad you're working this case."
     Although they were in no way related, McKenna appreciated the brother designation from Tommy since it was well-known throughout the Detective Bureau that only detectives Tommy thought to be hard-working and very competent were entitled to be called "Brother" by him.
     "Are you going to be staying on it?" McKenna asked.
     "Ray asked me if I wanted to, but I declined. Getting too close to retirement, and this case might stretch out in the courts for years once you get them."
     Tommy had thirty-five years on the Job, and had been talking retirement for years, but McKenna had always figured it wouldn't happen anytime soon. Although Tommy had never said so, McKenna knew that he just loved being recognized by many as the best homicide detective in the city. But Tommy might be serious this time, McKenna thought, because he didn't want in on a big case that would involve many court appearances once the kidnappers were caught. Retired cops don't get paid to go to court on their old cases, but they must always answer the subpoena to appear.
     McKenna appreciated the off-hand compliment Tommy had given him. Tommy obviously considered it a foregone conclusion that McKenna would solve the case. "You knew I was going to be assigned to it?" he asked.
     "Nobody told me, but I knew. You and Cisco both, only because it makes so much sense. Two famous guys, one of whom speaks Spanish, and the other one speaks French and Spanish..."
     "Cisco speaks French, too," McKenna said, interrupting Tommy. "He's getting pretty good at it."
     "Even better, but why am I not surprised? Anyway, these two sterling investigators also know Carmen–a lady whom, I predict, will soon become the most important of the three kidnapping victims. If I were Tommy Bara or Gene Shields, and I didn't get you both on it, then I should resign in disgrace."
     "Bara wasn't crazy about taking Cisco," McKenna said.
     "Who would be? Having that maniac around always livens things up, but Cisco's antics and attitude can get very trying for a boss. However, Bara still needs him, and he'd have to get him."
     Did Bara know that? McKenna wondered, but only for a moment. Of course he did, he realized, and Bara played it so that I'd volunteer to help keep Cisco in line. Very sharp.
     Tommy then introduced McKenna to José Gomez, the ambassador's doorman. McKenna told Gomez that he admired his dedication and courage during the kidnapping, but Tommy went further than that. He told Gomez that he was going to put him in for the Mayor's heroism award, and Gomez was obviously pleased to hear it.
     "Do you have any further questions for Mr. Gomez?" Tommy asked McKenna.
     "Not one, but we're going to need him in about an hour to look at some pictures."
     "Pictures?" Tommy asked.
     "I'll explain in a minute," McKenna answered, then turned to Gomez. "Why don't you go out and get a bite to eat for an hour or so?"
     "You said pictures. Do you mean pictures of the killers?" Gomez asked.
     "If we're lucky."
     Gomez left, and McKenna then brought Tommy up to date on the case. Tommy saw the problem at once. "Looks like I have to ask Sandra and Daniela a few more questions about those two in the park," he said.
     "Are they still here?"
     "Went out to pick up breakfast. They should be back in a few minutes."
     "Which one's the maid?"
     "Daniela. Very nice lady, and very cooperative."
     "And Sandra?"
     "Sandra Bullmore. Old money, very refined, initially very reluctant to be involved. Said her friends would think her foolish once they found out she had volunteered a statement to the police."
     "How did you change her?"
     "At first I tried civic duty, but that didn't work. Then I used the class struggle angle on her, and she was on board. A member of her high social class had been kidnapped and his servants murdered by violent, low-class reactionaries. We can't have that, can we?
     "Snooty?"
     "At first, but now we're pals. She's led a sheltered life, and she now recognizes that this is the most excitement she's ever had."
     McKenna made himself a cup of coffee, and he and McKenna made small talk until Sandra and Daniela returned to the squad office five minutes later. Daniela was carrying a bag from Henry Pool's, one of the city's most exclusive delicatessens.
     Sandra was a brunette in her fifties, slightly overweight, and she was attired in a gray pants suit with a string of pearls around her neck. Her maid was Hispanic, also in her fifties, also slightly overweight, and she wore a black maid's uniform with a white apron.
     Tommy introduced them to McKenna, and then told them he would have a few more questions for them. He also told them that he wanted to show them some pictures, but that the pictures wouldn't be delivered to the station house for another hour.
     The ladies didn't seem to mind the wait, and then Tommy was solicitous enough to ask if they would rather eat before the short interview. It turned out to be a tough question for them, and they talked it over for a minute before deciding that breakfast could wait. Despite the obvious employer-employee relationship, McKenna got the impression that Sandra and Daniela were friends.
     "Who wants to be first?" Tommy asked.
     "If you like, I'll go first, ma'am," Daniela said to Sandra.
     "Not necessary, dear. You went first the last time," Sandra replied. "Why don't you have your coffee and enjoy your Danish while I get this chore out of the way?"
     "I don't mind being first."
     "And neither do I. I'm first, and that's that."
     "Yes, ma'am, but if it takes too long, I'm going to finish my Danish and then eat yours."
     "You do that, bitch, and you'll have to make lunch for a week," Sandra said evenly, shocking both the McKennas.
     "Suit yourself, cow," Daniela replied, apparently unconcerned. "I don't mind making lunch, but you can be sure I'll be spitting in your soup for a week."
     The two women glared at each other while the McKennas remained shocked and speechless. Tommy was the first to recover. "I see you ladies have decided to really let your hair down today," he observed.
     Sandra and Daniela ignored him and continued glaring at each other. Sandra was the first to break. She could contain herself no longer, and burst out laughing. Daniela followed suit, and the two ladies hugged each other and slapped each other on the back.
     "I see," McKenna said. "You girls played a little joke on us."
     "Yes, we did," Sandra said. "Was it a good one?"
     "A real side-splitter. Where did you dig that routine up?"
     "We invented it ourselves about ten years ago," Daniela said proudly. "Everyone we know has already seen it, and we don't get to use it too much anymore."
     "How long have you two been friends?"
     "Friends? Whatever gave you that idea?" Sandra asked, smiling. "I hate her. She's lazy, she's slovenly, and you already know she's very disrespectful. I wind up doing most of the work myself."
     "And I hate her more than she hates me," Daniela proclaimed. "She's cheap and fussy, and she eats all the pimentos out of the olives."
     Only in New York can wackos like Sandra and Daniela hide out among us, usually unnoticed, McKenna thought. "I see," he said, then turned to Tommy. "So these are your two prize witnesses? Could you honestly believe anything either of these two ladies ever told you."
     "Not anymore," Tommy replied.
     "Wait a minute! We were telling the truth about that man in the park," Sandra protested.
     "Yes, every single word," Daniela added. "We wouldn't lie about a thing like that. There was nothing funny about it."
     "We know that. Brian was just kidding. We're both ready to believe anything else you might be able to remember," Tommy said. "However, you have to promise to be good, or we'll send you home without asking any more questions or letting you see the pictures."
     "Okay, we'll be good," Daniela said.
     "And very serious as well," Sandra added.
     "Wonderful!" Tommy said. "Sandra, you're first."
     Sandra was a model of decorum as she followed the McKennas into a small interview room off the main squad office. She took the seat indicated by Tommy, and the McKennas sat across the table from her.
     "Okay. We're at your apartment window again, Sandra, right after Daniela called you over," Tommy said. "Close your eyes, think for a minute, and then tell me what you see."
     Sandra did as she was told, and took the full minute to bring the scene back to her mind. "Like I said before, I see the man in the park. He's wearing a green shirt, and he has a rifle on the Central Park wall. It looks like he's getting ready to shoot."
     "Okay, Sandra. Keep your eyes closed, but forget about that man. Look deeper into the park, toward the road. Are there any other people there?"
     "Yes."
     "How many?"
     "One, a man."
     "What's he doing?"
     "Just standing there, but I know what happens next."
     "We'll get to that in a moment. Does the man have anything in his hands?"
     "I don't see anything."
     "Is there anything on the ground close to the man?"
     "I don't see that either right now, but I know there must be."
     "What do you know must be there?"
     "A green bag, like a large carry-on bag."
     "You saw him with that?"
     "Yes, later. After all the shooting and screaming. I'm trying, but I don't see him now. I'm not looking at him, I'm looking at the man with the rifle. But I do see him again later."
     "Was there anyone with him then?"
     "A woman."
     "Can you describe her?"
     "Young, I think. Long black hair, and she's wearing a very long skirt. It's brown, or beige."
     "Young? Can you be more specific?"
     "Maybe thirty, but I can't be sure. She was too far away."
     "What do they do then?" Tommy asked.
     "They walk away."
     "Together?"
     "Yes, they're together."
     "Which way do they walk?"
     "Left."
     "On the road inside the park?"
     "Yes, on the road."
     "Left? So that would be south."
     "Yes, south."
     "Does it look to you like they're in a hurry?"
     "No."
     "Does that strike you as strange now?"
     "I didn't think about it before, but I guess so."
     "Why is it strange?"
     "Because there were just a lot of shots very close to them, and that poor ambassador's wife had done a lot of screaming. They're not excited, and it looks like they don't care."
     "Open your eyes, Sandra, and take a bow," Tommy said.
     "I did good?"
     "You did great. I hope Daniela does as well as you did."
     "Don't tell her I said this, but she'll do better. She was at the window longer, and she notices everything about people."
     "Why do you think that is?"
     "Because she's very picky. She remembers every little thing that's wrong with someone. If somebody's clothes don't match exactly, she remembers."
     "How about faces? Does she remember them?"
     "Especially faces. One time we had a delivery boy who brought groceries to the apartment, and he had a tiny pimple on his nose. You know, he was going through that stage."
     "An acne pimple?"
     "Yes, acne, but not a bad case. I never even noticed the pimple. That was five years ago, and he's certainly no longer a boy, but she still calls him the boy with the pimple on his nose."
     "Then I can't wait to hear what she's got to say."
     Daniela was just finishing her Danish when McKenna brought Sandra out. "Was it hard?" Daniela asked her.
     "Very hard. You won't be any help at all."
     "We'll see about that," Daniela replied.
     In the interview room, McKenna directed Daniela to the seat her boss had just vacated.
     "How did Sandra do?" Daniela asked.
     "Very well," Tommy replied. "She told us what we needed to know."
     Tommy knew his subjects, and didn't use the same close-your-eyes style he had used with Sandra. His questions for Daniela were clear cut and concise, but he asked her to think about each one for a few seconds before answering.
     "When you were looking out the window this morning, did you see anybody else in the park besides the shooter in the green shirt?" Tommy asked.
     "The apartment is pretty high up, so I saw many people," Daniela answered at once, disregarding Tommy's instructions.
     Tommy didn't take any notice. "I'm talking about pretty close to the shooter," he said.
     "Close to the shooter? Yes, in the park, but closer to the road than to the man with the rifle."
     "How many people?"
     "One at first, a man. After the shooting, I saw him and a woman."
     "Did the man have anything with him?"
     "A green piece of luggage."
     "Where was it?"
     "At first, it was on the ground next to a tree. After the shooting, the woman put something in it, and the man carried it when they walked to the road."
     "Did you see what she put in the bag?"
     "Something that looked like a rectangular black box, and there was a strap attached to it. She had it around her neck, took it off, and put it in the bag."
     "Could it have been a radio like the police have?"
     "I was gonna say that. Yes, it could have been a radio, but she was too far away from us to say for sure."
     "When did you first see the woman?"
     "After the shooting stopped."
     "Where did she come from?"
     "From behind a tree, right next to where the man was standing. The tree near the green bag."
     "Did you think she was hiding?"
     "I'm sure of it."
     "Why do you think she was hiding?"
     "Because she was peeing. That's why she went behind the tree–to pee where nobody could see her."
     "She was peeing?" Tommy asked incredulously. What makes you say that?"
     "Because she was wearing a very long skirt. When she came out from behind the tree, she had it pulled up to her belly button. I could see the top of her boots, and I even saw her panties. White, very tiny panties, the kind you men like. She pulled the skirt down and straightened herself out before she put the radio in the bag."
     "She was wearing boots?" McKenna asked.
     "Yes, very high brown boots. The type you see prostitutes wear sometimes, they came up way past her knees."
     "Lace-up boots?"
     "Yes, lace-up, with lots of buckles. Very tacky, I think, and they certainly didn't go with the rest of her outfit. If you didn't see the boots, if you didn't see the panties, and if you didn't know she had just peed in the park with a man standing right there, you might think she was a nice girl."
     "What else was she wearing?"
     "Long skirt, beige and brown checked. Wide brown belt, big brass buckle. Long-sleeve brown sweater, vee-neck."
     "Can you describe her?"
     "I can't say how tall she was, but she was almost as tall as the man. Long, black hair, maybe thirty years old, very nice figure. Big bust, but not too big, and long legs. Very pretty face, I think."
     "Was her hair straight or curly?"
     "Wavy."
     "What makes you think she was pretty? Could you see her face?"
     "Not too clearly, we were too far away. But she walks like a woman who knows she's pretty. You know what I mean, a very confident walk, like she's used to everybody looking at her."
     "Did the man and the woman leave the park together?"
     "I don't know if they left the park, but they must've left the area. They walked together to that road inside the park, and they made a left."
     "Were they in a hurry?"
     "No, they walked like they didn't have a care in the world."
     "Would you think they were lovers?"
     "No, unless the man was her sex slave. I got the impression that she was in charge."
     "What gave you that impression?"
     "When they were leaving the woods, she pointed at the bag on the ground, and then she just turned and started walking. He picked the bag up real quick, and had to run with it a bit to catch up with her."
     "Let's get back to the tree," McKenna said. "Was it a big tree?"
     "Big enough to hide her behind it."
     "How wide would you say it was?"
     "Fatter than me, but not as fat as Sandra."
     That was a pretty precise measurement, McKenna thought. He figured that both Sandra and Daniela were about the same height and weight, and that they might even wear the same dress size. He looked to Tommy, and saw that he was puzzled, but he had no further questions.
     "Am I done?" Daniela asked.
     "Yes, we don't have any more questions for you," Tommy said. "Thank you very much."
     "Did I do good?"
     "Great, but you left us with some questions that we have to answer."
     "I have a question. Did I do better than Sandra?"
     "I'm not saying," Tommy replied, so Daniela looked to McKenna.
     "Me neither," McKenna said. "Let's just say you both did great."
     "You can say that if you want, but I'm gonna say that I did better."
     "Suit yourself," Tommy said. "Why don't you go outside and finish your coffee with Sandra? We'll be with you in a minute or two."
     "Peeing while the shooting's going on?" Tommy commented as soon as Daniela left the room. "What do you make of that?"
     "Nothing. It was the obvious assumption for Daniela to make after what she saw, but the woman wasn't peeing," McKenna answered.
     "Then what was she doing with her skirt pulled up to her navel?"
     "Climbing down the tree, but the ladies didn't see that because she was climbing down the side opposite them. She was up the tree with her radio and a perfect view of the ambassador's building, directing the kidnapping. When it's over, she climbs down and they calmly split."
     "So that's the deal with the long boots under a long skirt? She pulls up the skirt, and climbs up," Tommy said, and then stopped himself for a moment. "You know what it was she had on the boots?"
     "Not just buckles, like the ladies thought they saw," McKenna replied. "She was wearing that spiked leg apparatus linemen wear to climb poles. She had them strapped to the boots, and they were brown to match the boots, but she didn't want to be seen in the park taking them on and off. Time consuming job, I imagine."
     "Right, and good planning on her part," Tommy said. "If something goes wrong on them, she doesn't want to be seen wearing them. That's the reason for the long skirt to hide them when she walks out."
     "You know what else it tells us?" McKenna asked.
     "That you're going to be looking for a smart, pretty, very careful Basque knockout who also is very athletic. Nice combo, if she weren't such a political fanatic who's surrounded herself with a bunch of stone-cold killers. Good luck, and I'll catch the rest of the story day-by-day on the evening news as you plod along."

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