Private Dublin

Chapter 5

I followed Jenny Powell through the luxurious contemporary building to a security room located on the second floor. The large, windowless space was dominated by a bank of monitors on one wall. Half a dozen desks were occupied by men and women in suits who were reviewing CCTV footage while a middle-aged man with pinched features and a haunted expression leaned against a coffee station watching them. His dark brown uniform and epaulets told me he was a senior security officer for the Academy.

A guy in a dark blue suit perched on the edge of the desk nearest the wall of monitors, studying video footage of the entrance to the building taken just before the shooter entered.

“Detective Mattera,” Jenny said as we approached. “This is Jack Morgan.”

“Mr. Morgan,” he said, stepping away from the desk to shake my hand. He had curly black hair and bright, watchful eyes. “My name is Salvatore... Sal. You’re on my list of people to talk to. I understand one of your colleagues was injured in the attack.”

I was impressed he was on top of the details. “Girlfriend and colleague,” I replied. “And yes, two gunshot wounds. She’s recovering at Cedars-Sinai. They think she’s going to be okay.”

“Glad to hear it,” Sal said.

“I wanted to offer my support to the Academy and to the LAPD if appropriate, and to direct Private’s resources into helping find the guy who did this.”

Sal’s eyes narrowed. “For revenge?”

“Justice,” I said.

He nodded toward his colleagues busy reviewing the CCTV footage. “You don’t think we’ve got this?”

Jenny shifted uncomfortably.

“I know you’ve got this,” I responded. “My offer isn’t a reflection of any lack of faith in the LAPD. I also know what it’s like at the heart of an investigation like this and how useful it can be to have more minds and bodies to throw at a problem.”

Sal pursed his lips as he considered my words.

“And I know what my team can add even to the most experienced group of investigators.”

Sal nodded. “Okay. If Ms. Powell is happy, I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Particularly not this one. I know your organization, Mr. Morgan, and I’m not too proud to say you’re right. It could give us an advantage. I want to find this guy before he skips town. If he hasn’t already left.”

“The Academy won’t have any problem with you assisting, Mr. Morgan,” Jenny said. “And we want to thank you for your intervention last night.”

“Yeah,” Sal agreed. “I’ve seen the footage, and it confirms what the witnesses said about you stopping the guy. If you hadn’t stepped in...”

“We’re grateful,” Jenny said when the detective’s voice trailed off.

I nodded, though I wasn’t interested in the recognition. I’d done what I hoped anyone with my training would have done, given the opportunity. “What have you got?”

Sal nodded toward a laptop beside him. “We’ve been reviewing footage, pulling anything useful.” He selected a clip on the computer. “This is from the intersection of Santa Monica Boulevard and Century Park East and it shows the shooter stepping off a bus twenty minutes before the attack.”

I looked at the image on-screen, which showed the man rolling down his ski mask as he left the bus on the busy street.

“He’s pulling his mask down,” I remarked.

“Or adjusting it,” Sal responded. “Either way, there’s a chance he was photographed without it on the bus. I was about to head to the depot. You want to come along for the ride?”

I nodded. “Sure.”