Daylight

Chapter 9

John Puller was not a man easily intimidated. A many-times-decorated soldier and two-time Purple Heart recipient, he carried physical scars from being in a war that were harsh to look at, but he nonetheless carried them with pride. The internal trauma he endured from humans trying to kill other humans in often the most barbaric ways possible was difficult to confront. So he often chose not to. Whether that would come back to haunt him at some point, as it had others, he didn’t know. But right now he had a job to do. And right now that job was causing Puller considerable stress, or at least the man sitting across from him was.

Barney Moss was taller than Puller but flabby, his skin a sickly white. His drab brown suit was ill fitted, either because he’d lost weight or because he didn’t give a crap about his clothes. His hairdo was a stringy, greasy comb-over. He looked like the villain in every bad 1970s-era movie ever made. His necktie was undone, and his open collar showed off his neck wattle. He was the government suit repping Fort Dix so, technically, he was a fellow fed. Yet from the moment Puller stepped into the office, Moss’s manner had Puller fantasizing about pulling his gun.

“So just to be clear, you are not to ever approach Theodore Vincenzo again for any reason,” said Moss, for the third time now. He apparently thought repetition equated with substance. “If you do, there will be hell to pay and you’ll be the one footing the bill, buddy.”

He stared straight across the width of the scarred and cheap wooden desk, like it was a stretch of battlefield and Puller was the enemy firmly engaged.

Puller cleared his throat, inclined his neck slightly to the right, and was rewarded with a satisfying pop and release of vertebral pressure.

“Well, now let me be as clear as I can be, Mr. Moss. I’m investigating a case and I talk to the people I need to talk to, and Teddy Vincenzo is one of those people.” Puller kept direct eye contact with the man, searing every detail of his countenance into the part of his memory that he reserved for “special people.”

Puller continued, “And, despite your calling me and ordering me to come here, I still don’t have a clue as to why you’re even involved in this, since you don’t happen to be in my chain of command. That also means that legally, technically, and every other way in which the United States Army does business, I have no obligation to follow any order you attempt to give me. So I’m just here as a courtesy. You might or might not be familiar with the concept.” He added, “Just so we’re clear.”

Moss sighed and rested his palms on his paunch. “So that’s how it’s going to be, is it?”

“From my perspective, it’s the only way it can be.”

“What, you need to hear from your buddies playing soldier in the sandbox?” he said with a sneer. “Will that make you feel better if it comes from a guy with pretty ribbons on his chest?”

Puller’s features remained inscrutable even as he inwardly seethed at this inane insult. “I need to hear from my chain of command. It goes up to the commanding general at the U.S. Army’s Criminal Investigation Command and then tops out at the Army’s Provost Marshal General. Just like you have a chain of command.” Puller cocked his head and eyed the man more closely. “So can you tell me who ordered you to do this?”

“To do what?”

“Feed me a bunch of bullshit.”

“Sorry, but you’re not cleared for anything else.”

“On the contrary, I’m cleared for everything up to TS/SCI with polygraph. How about you? What are you cleared for?”

Puller eyed the wall behind the man where photos and mementos were hung. They looked to be of local politicians, business leaders, a few national pols whom Puller recognized, shaking hands and grinning and doing what elected officials are often compelled to do. He didn’t even know if this was Moss’s office. There had been no name on the door.

“That’s none of your business,” said Moss, an ugly expression on his face.

“For somebody with all the answers, you don’t seem to have any.”

“Don’t push me!” barked Moss. “You think you’re something special because you wear a uniform?”

Puller rose and looked down at the man.

“I’ve got better things to do with my time than sit here.”

Moss pointed a finger at him. “You work for the federal government. Your loyalty lies there. You follow orders. Well, here’s your order: Stay away from the Vincenzos.”

Puller flinched slightly. “So father and son, then?”

To Puller, who was observing Moss closely, the man seemed to have regretted his words, not because of their harshness, but because of their carelessness. He composed himself and said, “You’ll learn I don’t make threats lightly.”

Puller closed the door quietly after him, even though his initial impulse had been to slam it.

Don’t give the idiot the satisfaction.

As Puller walked outside the government building he saw a column of dark clouds shaped like anvils creeping across the Delaware River as a storm rolled in over the water.

It definitely fit his mood.

Before he got to his car he phoned Pine and filled her in on his meeting with Moss.

“What the hell is going on? Why is all this happening?” “Teddy did mention that his son was involved in something way over his head. Maybe the people behind that got me called on the carpet with Moss.”

“But that would mean the folks involved in a criminal enterprise have connections to the government.”

“Corruption is the number one business for some politicians. Serving the country faithfully doesn’t even run a close second.”

“Well, it’s certainly plausible that Tony Vincenzo or the people he was working with could have connections to some powerful people.”

“We just have to find out who they are. Hey, how about some dinner tonight and we can plan our next moves?”

“Sounds good.”

Puller gave her the time and place.

“But we need to tread lightly, Puller. It’s all well and good not to be called off by a jerk like this Moss guy. But there have to be people behind him who carry a lot more clout.”

“It’s one of the reasons I didn’t shoot him. See you tonight.”