Middle Of Nowhere

CHAPTER 24

The noon news carried a plea from Krishevski to the mayor to drop the "hardball tactics" and allow police officers to "once again take their place, protecting and serving the city of Seattle." But it proved too little, too late. The mayor had played his card-health services had invalidated dozens of sick leaves and officers were being fired from the force.

Krishevski attempted to turn Schock and Phillipp into martyrs, claiming that inexperienced officers promoted prematurely by the chief, with the mayor's blessing, had failed to support the detectives and that the chief should be held directly responsible for their injuries. The pressure failed. In a press release, the mayor announced that the two hundred and twelve firings were not under reconsideration, that health services had determined that these officers claiming sick leave had been perfectly capable of serving their city and had lost the public's trust, causing permanent damage to the reputation of all city employees and services. Krishevski, it was announced, was himself fired, and the mayor announced he would no longer be considered president of the guild, as this position, according to charter, had to be held by an active police officer.

Viewed as nothing more than a negotiating position, the nature of Krishevski's status remained in question. A compromise seemed inevitable. The cost to both sides-politically and economically-had not yet been calculated.

"You look awful," LaMoia told Boldt upon entering the man's office. "But this…" he said, indicating the busy fifth floor, "this, is beautiful."

The floor teemed with activity.

"Partially trained cadets promoted to uniform; uniforms to plainclothes," Boldt complained. "It's a circus. No one knows what the hell they're doing. And they're all acting like they won the lottery, for Christ's sake."

"Beggars can't be choosers," LaMoia said. "You wanted it over, Sarge. Krishevski will be gone by the end of the day. Everyone wanted this thing over. Once you've seen all the Seinfelds twice-"

"I feel more like a schoolteacher than a lieutenant."

LaMoia grinned and said, "We got more members of our unit back than any other division. That's what I hear."

"Thirteen shields out of seventeen." Disappointed. He had wanted them all back.

"Yeah, well, those other four? Poor, poor pitiful them," he said, intentionally misquoting a Warren Zevon song. LaMoia was Zevon's biggest fan.

Boldt recognized that cocky grin of LaMoia's. With no less than a dozen active cases on the desks of every returning detective, including his sergeant's, this wasn't a social call. "So give it up," Boldt suggested.

"I made some calls," the man confirmed proudly. "It isn't insurance fraud," LaMoia said, knowingly disappointing his boss. "And I tried everything I could think of, in terms of trying to connect the vics to each other… in terms of trying to determine how our boy is picking them as targets. Their finances came up blank. No overlaps I could see. Mind you, it's a quick pass, and not all my calls have been returned. There may still be something there. A gas station they all used. A department store. Some one place they all shared in common."

"Then why that look?" Boldt asked.

"What look?" LaMoia asked, offering the look again.

"Are you going to chortle over there all day, or you going to tell me what you have?"

"Who says I have anything?"

"John-"

"It's not exactly convincing evidence, Sarge. It's a connection, is all." He added confidently, teasing the man, "Sure, maybe even the connection we're looking for, but not something you can take to Shoswitz or Hill."

Boldt elected not to speak, not to engage the man. LaMoia would drag this out as long as he could, would make Boldt beg, if possible.

"The silent treatment?"

Boldt said nothing. He offered only a lazy-eyed stare.

"Okay… Okay. You wanted me to work the insurance angle. So I did like you asked. A decent idea worth pursuing. But it came back blank, as I said. Zip. Zero. And then I catch the unexpected, and I'm thinking, 'Well, maybe not exactly zero.'" He waited for Boldt to react, but the man remained as patient as a fisherman.

At that point it became a contest, and Boldt finally gave in. "Caught what?"

"Lucky as hell I did catch it, because it wasn't anything I was looking for. You know? You know how that is, Sarge? You're looking so damned hard for that missing red shoe that you overlook something way more important. Something right there in front of you. A knife… a gun… I don't know…"

"John-"

"A name is all," LaMoia said. "Of the nine burglary vics, three of them had switched their household policies in the weeks prior to the break-ins. All three to the same company, Consolidated Mutual."

Boldt sat forward. "Three of the nine had switched insurance carriers."

"That's what I'm saying. Yes."

"New policies."

"Yes."

"Bigger policies?"

"No. Not a one of them. It's not that," LaMoia said. "It's not fraud-it's just that switch."

"A salesman. Maybe door to door," Boldt speculated. "He gets a look inside. He picks his targets."

"More what I was thinking. Yes." LaMoia said, "Maybe he's in as partners, maybe just sells the info to our burglar and lets him take it from there. But it's a connection, something that ties one to the other, and either way, we've got to chat up this company."

"Consolidated Mutual," Boldt repeated.

"Not actually," LaMoia corrected. "Something called Newmann Communications. They're out of Denver."

Boldt scribbled down the name. He knew that look: LaMoia had rolled over a large rock.

"Our problem is that it never showed up on any of the burglary reports," LaMoia stated obliquely. Again Boldt waited him out rather than feed the flames. LaMoia asked, "You spoke to this Helen Brooks-Gilman, Sarge. And to Kawamoto. Did either happen to mention a pair of free movie tickets?"

Boldt asked sarcastically, "Are you on some kind of medication?"

"How about phone solicitations?"

Brooks-Gilman had in fact mentioned phone solicitations, though it had been nothing more than a denigrating comment about the intrusion upon their privacy. She'd said something about how those were the people who should be arrested. He thought he also recalled Kawamoto saying something similar to him. "Phone solicitations?" Boldt queried.

"You check the phone logs at Newmann Communications, my guess is you'll find out that that's what all the burglary victims shared in common: they all received phone solicitations from Newmann. Several chose to up their insurance coverage; others cashed in on free movie tickets. It's the linkage, Sarge. It's how they were targeted. So tell me what you're really thinking," LaMoia said, crossing his arms and leaning back. "Tell me how fucking great it is to have me back on the job."