The Fix

Chapter 8

Twelve times. Decker had listened to the recording of Dabney’s last words a dozen times and still nothing had struck him. No revelations. Not even a glimmer of one.

He was sitting in an office at the Hoover Building staring at the recorder. Across from him were Jamison and Milligan.

Milligan, his tie loosened and his normally straight-backed posture drooping a bit, slumped in his chair and said, “We can listen to this thing for the next ten years and it’ll still make no sense. The guy had blown out a chunk of his brain. He was incapable of rational thought, Decker. It’s meaningless.”

“Was Mrs. Dabney there?” he asked.

“Yes. Right up until the end.”

“And it made no sense to her either? Something that only she would know? Something very personal?”

“Well, she was crying so hard when he started talking, it was difficult to tell whether she actually heard what he said. We had to filter her sobs out of the recording.”

“But when she settled down?” persisted Decker. “Still nothing?”

Milligan said, “I think she thought he was going to sit up in the bed and start talking to her. And then he just stopped breathing. The machines started going crazy and a crash team came in to try to resuscitate him, but they couldn’t. He was just gone.”

Ross Bogart walked in and sat down across from Decker. “Anything pop?” he asked.

Decker said, “Right now the victim is more interesting than the killer. She lives in a multimillion-dollar apartment and has a car that costs over a hundred grand that she’s barely driven, all on a substitute teacher’s salary. And once you go back ten years, there’s no record of an Anne Berkshire.”

“You mentioned that before. A big coincidence, as you said, if she was a random victim.”

“And she might have changed her name,” suggested Jamison. “That might be why we can’t find anything on her going back more than ten years.”

“I think she clearly did change her name,” said Decker. “The important question becomes why.”

Bogart said, “You thought Melvin Mars’s parents were in Witness Protection. Maybe Berkshire was.”

“Well, we need to find that out. If she had another previous identity then the person she was might have had a connection to Dabney, which would explain why he targeted her.”

“I’ll get some people on it,” said Bogart. He rose and left the room.

Jamison said to Milligan, “So I understand that the task force is officially being transferred from Quantico to the Washington Field Office in D.C.”

“That’s right.”

Decker broke off staring at the recorder and glanced at him. “Transferred to the WFO?”

Milligan said, “Since we’re no longer doing cold cases we’re being shipped from Quantico to the WFO. It’s actually an upgrade. The higher-ups have appreciated the work we’ve done.”

Decker said, “Wait a minute, does that mean we can’t live at Quantico anymore?”

“You don’t want to make that commute every day,” said Milligan. “It’s a killer up Interstate 95. I was in luck because I live in Springfield. I was going against traffic every day. Now I’ll be slogging along with all the traffic heading north. Ross is in D.C. So his commute will be easy.”

Decker said, “I don’t have another place to live.”

Jamison spoke up. “Funny you mention that.”

“Why is it funny?” asked Decker sharply.

“I was going to tell you about this at some point, when the timing seemed right. But then again, this might work out very fortuitously.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Alex?” asked a clearly irritated Decker.

“Okay, don’t get upset.”

“I’m already upset.”

“I’ve actually been doing what amounts to another job on the side.”

Milligan cracked a smile and said, “What, working for the FBI isn’t fulfilling enough for you?”

“Another job?” said Decker.

“There’s a building in Anacostia.”

“A building,” exclaimed Decker.

“Yes, well, to make a clean breast of it, I’ve been hunting for a fixer-upper building for the last couple of months. And I found the perfect one.”

“You’ve been looking for a building?” said Decker dully. “I don’t need a building. I just need a room. A small one. And why have you been looking for a building in the first place?”

“As an investment. And a way to do some good.”

“And you’re just mentioning this now?”

“Well, I was going to tell you very soon. We recently closed on the place.”

“We closed on a building? Who’s ‘we’?”

“Well, he actually closed on it.”

“Who are you talking about?” asked Milligan.

“Wait a minute,” said Decker. “You don’t have any money to invest in a building. You keep complaining that you can’t afford gas for your car.”

“Well, thanks for sharing,” said Jamison, glancing embarrassedly at Milligan. “And I’m just his rep.”

“Whose rep?” asked Milligan.

Decker’s features slackened as the truth hit him. “It’s Melvin, isn’t it?”

“Melvin?” said Milligan. “Melvin Mars?”

Decker stared directly at Jamison. “He bought the building, didn’t he? With some of the money from his settlement with the government?”

Jamison nodded. “Yes, he did. But only after I found it.”

“When did all this happen?” asked Milligan.

“Melvin had all this money and didn’t know what to do with it. So I suggested that he could make money and also help people, which is what he really wanted to do.”

“How does buying a building help people?” asked Milligan.

“The building has, well, tenants. And they pay rent.”

“So what?” asked Milligan. “My wife and I pay rent too. It’s not like it’s a handout. It’s expensive.”

“This place is a little different. We got it for a great price. And while it needs a little work, we can afford to charge rent that, well, that people who don’t make a lot of money can afford to pay.”

“You mean like low-income housing,” said Milligan.

“Sort of, but it’s not like he’s required by law to do it. Melvin can because he doesn’t care about making a killing like pretty much all other landlords. He gets what we think is a reasonable return on his money and folks who otherwise couldn’t afford a place to live, can. A win-win.”

“So this place has tenants,” said Decker. “But where will I live?”

“In the building. Top floor. You’ll have a room. And so will I. And our own en suite bathrooms. And we’ll have an office and a big kitchen. Very spacious, in fact.”

Decker just stared at her.

She hastily added, “I didn’t know we were going to be moving from Quantico to D.C., but I always thought we could live there regardless. We’d be going against traffic if we were still working at Quantico. Now it’s even closer.”

“Do you mean we’ll be living together?” said Decker slowly, apparently not having heard what she’d just said.

“Well, not living together. We’ll be roommates. Like in college.”

“My college roommate was an offensive lineman who made me look small,” said Decker. “He was messy and disgusting, but he was a guy.”

“Well, I’m sorry I’m a girl, but I can cook, so how about that?” retorted Jamison.

“You can?” said Decker in a dubious tone.

“Well, a little.”

His gaze continued to bore into her.

“I can microwave pretty much anything,” she snapped.

Decker closed his eyes and said nothing.

Jamison focused on Milligan. “And best of all, Melvin’s going to let Amos and me stay there rent-free in exchange for looking after things.” She added, “In addition to our jobs with the FBI.”

Decker opened his eyes and said firmly, “I am not looking after a building. I don’t even know if I want to be roommates. This is a lot of change being thrown at me,” he added in an offended tone.

“But I already said we would look after the place, Decker. I promised Melvin.”

“Then you can,” said Decker. “One job is plenty for me.”

She looked at him appraisingly. “Okay, if you want to find a place on your own, feel free. Keep in mind that D.C. is one of the most expensive real estate markets in the country. And you don’t have a car, so it’s not like you can live way out and commute in that way. So you’ll probably need to take out a loan to pay your rent. Just saying.”

Decker continued to stare at her.

Jamison said, “Look, I can deal with the tenants, all right? And everything else. You won’t really have to do much, if anything.”

Milligan said, “Sounds like a deal you can’t refuse, Decker.”

Decker didn’t say anything for a few moments. “Can I at least see the place first before I decide?”

“Absolutely. We can go right now. But you’re going to love it. It’s very charming.”

“Is that a code word for needing a lot of fixing up?” he asked.

“It does need a bit of TLC,” she conceded. “But Melvin said I can hire professionals to do that.”

Decker stared at Jamison. “Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”

“Not that I know of,” said Jamison, refusing to meet his eye.

“That is not a response that inspires confidence,” he said grumpily.