Ambush

Chapter 72

I didn’t bring Sergeant Tim Marcia to Rikers Island with me. I was a little embarrassed that I had missed such an obvious link as Caracortada. His real name was Albert Stass, and he had been born in Uruguay, then raised in Mexico. I had barely even met the man, even though I was part of the team that arrested him and sat in on his early hearings.

That didn’t mean I didn’t know a lot about him. He’d ruined my life. At least ruined it as much as any one man could. He had set up a network of high school students to sell various forms of methamphetamine and ecstasy. The Mexican cartel considered synthetic drugs the next logical step in their business plan.

Unfortunately, my son Brian was one of the kids Stass had corrupted. That’s how it started, anyway. Later he had used terror tactics to keep the kids in line. My son was so scared that he ended up going to prison without revealing any information.

Now this creep was a link to the person who was after me. Talking to him would also give me an idea who ordered the attack on my son in prison.

I met a friend of mine, corrections lieutenant Vinnie Mintus, who came with me to a special interview room where Stass was waiting. I had to calm myself down before entering, because the idea of seeing Stass in person made me think about committing a crime of my own.

When I was ready, I went in and sat down on a hard metal chair at a flat, scarred wooden table and looked across at Albert Stass. He was in his forties, and he really did have a fairly significant scar on his face. Other than that, there was nothing remarkable about the man.

He looked back at me with flat brown eyes.

I said, “Do you know who I am?”

“I know.”

“You know why I’m here to talk to you?”

“It doesn’t matter, because I’m not telling you shit.”

I shrugged and looked over my shoulder at my friend, who worked at Rikers Island every day.

Lieutenant Mintus said, “You could help yourself out if you talked to us.”

“I’ve got a lawyer for this case. I got nothing to say to you.”

Lieutenant Mintus smiled and said, “I’m talking about the potential assault case for the guy you attacked in the cafeteria last week.”

“You mean the black gangbanger? All I did was shove him.”

“Shove, tried to choke — who could say?” The lieutenant gave him a grin that even made me nervous. “You know how things work around here. You could be isolated and secured until trial.”

“That ain’t right, and you know it.”

I said, “Is it right to lure kids into selling drugs?”

“Allegedly lure kids into selling drugs.”

It was my friend the lieutenant who said, “Cut the shit. If you want to avoid some additional charges, just listen to the questions Detective Bennett has for you. You may not even think they’re important.”

Stass thought about it for a few seconds, then looked at me without much interest and said, “Go ahead.”

I said, “Who put out the contract on me? And why?”

“All I have is hearsay. It could never be used in court.”

“No one will know we ever spoke to you.”

He waited a bit longer, then finally said, “The mama of that kid you shot in the library. Diego something. She’s the one who pressured the cartel. I heard they even hired some hotshot killer from Bogotá. The killer is supposed to take care of some Canadians and I guess you, too. From what I hear, the killer is really good. You might not live long enough to talk about our conversation.” That made him grin, revealing yellowed, uneven teeth.

I had a few more questions, but he didn’t know anything that could help me. At least I felt a level of satisfaction for having tied a lot of this case together. Now we had to figure a way to find the woman from Colombia who was committing these murders.

That was always the toughest job: stopping the killer.