Contents ( 84)
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- SEVENTY-FOUR
- SEVENTY-FIVE
- SEVENTY-SIX
- SEVENTY-SEVEN
- SEVENTY-EIGHT
- SEVENTY-NINE
- EIGHTY
- EIGHTY-ONE
- EIGHTY-TWO
- EIGHTY-THREE
- Acknowledgements
Ali said nothing. Just fixed his eyes on Dempsey. Dempsey returned the stare, neither man blinking.
In the silence, the sound of sirens was piercing. They were close.
‘OK.’ Ali broke the silence. His tone seemed more determined. More confident. ‘I will help you. What do you need?’
Grace felt a flood of relief. It was interrupted almost immediately by a flashing red light in her peripheral vision. She turned and through the glass of the bodega she could see the arrival of the first two NYPD squad cars.
For Dempsey, it did not seem to be a distraction. He didn’t turn.
‘I need your cell phone and your car.’
‘OK. Follow me.’
Ali turned without another word. Dempsey and Grace went after him, through the far aisle and into the back rooms of the bodega. Ali passed Dempsey his cell phone as they walked. A basic model. At least a decade out of date.
And probably perfect for what Dempsey has in mind, Grace thought.
They moved through four back rooms, one after the other, all packed with boxes of stock. Finally they reached a back door, which opened onto a mid-block alleyway designed for deliveries. Parked in the alley, close to the door, was a thirty-year-old black Audi 100 Sedan. It looked every day of its age, and in dire need of a wash.
‘That’s your car?’ Dempsey asked.
‘It is.’ Ali held up the keys. ‘You take it and you run.’
‘I’ll bring it all back, Ali. I promise you that.’
‘Just be safe. Please, my friend.’
‘We will. Thank you.’
Dempsey took the keys and climbed into the driver’s seat, while Grace moved into the passenger’s side. Without another word to Ali, Dempsey started the car and began to drive away.
As they reached the end of the alleyway, Dempsey indicated right, onto 74th and away from The Stratford. As he took the turn, he passed Ali’s phone to Grace.
‘I need you to dial a number for me.’
‘Is it safe?’
‘This one is,’ Dempsey replied. ‘The only one that no one would think to tap.’
FIFTY-TWO
Elizabeth Kirk did not notice her increased heart rate. Or the fact that she had neither breathed nor blinked for at least a minute. The images on her office television screen had her absolute attention.
She knew the location. The Stratford building. 1385 York Avenue. And she knew what that meant.
Joe Dempsey.
After a lifetime in covert and military intelligence, Kirk could spot a dead body when she saw one. Even when that body was covered and being filmed from a distance. And especially when there was more than one.
Whoever was behind the camera was doing their best; Kirk could see that. They were trying to capture a meaningful shot from behind a strict police cordon which, from what Kirk could see, covered at least the full width of York Avenue. From a street away, the footage could give only a hint of the carnage that had occurred.