Swimming with Sharks (29 page)

“Well,” Lucas Morgan said, nodding slowly, “we already have a warrant for Bacchiocchi, and we’re going to ask him some questions. Vitali Junior gave us some information that Bacchiocchi needs to rebut, for starters.”

“And this kid revealed all of this just like that?” Nick asked in disbelief.

“No, not just like that.” Tremell coughed slightly in embarrassment. “My men are very upset. One of their colleagues was gunned
down during the bust. They grilled Vitali pretty hard, and then he…hmm…came clean.”

“A forced confession,” Morgan cut in, “is useless in court.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Nick responded vehemently. “Most important, we have a connection to Vitali.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Captain,” the lieutenant on duty said. “Vitali’s lawyer is here demanding the kid be released on bail.”

“No bail’s been set yet,” Tremell replied. “He won’t be arraigned until tomorrow morning.”

“This guy is enraged, sir.” The lieutenant frowned. “He’s screaming that this is unlawful detention and coercion.”

“Tell him that we’re allowed to keep Vitali in custody for twenty-four hours. There’s reasonable suspicion of trespassing, arson, battery, armed resistance, and who the hell knows what else. He’s going to remain in his holding cell until he appears before the judge in the morning.”

“Okay, sir.” The lieutenant disappeared again.

“How the hell does the lawyer already know that we’ve arrested the kid?” Tremell was pissed off. “We’ve ordered a complete news blackout!”

“If the reporters already know about it…” Morgan said.

“Vitali’s reach extends even into the Forty-First Precinct,” Nick said and sighed. Someone had informed Cesare’s father—either one of the officers or even one of the police commissioners. The payees on Vitali’s list of friends were everywhere. Not only in the police department, but also at city hall.

Captain Tremell, Lucas Morgan, Nick, and Frank walked toward the booking room. They could hear excited voices from a distance. It was Vitali’s lawyer arguing with some officers, but the sergeant on duty wasn’t
having it. Three officers stood at the door blocking the reporters from storming the building.

“I demand,” Vitali’s lawyer screamed, “to see my client
immediately
! He has the right to legal representation!”

Nick stopped.

“Hi, Nelson,” he said calmly. “Why are you so agitated?”

Van Mieren turned around quickly, staring at Nick in astonishment. But he quickly regained his composure.

“Ah, Mayor Kostidis!” he exclaimed. He had the sonorous voice of a defense lawyer projecting to the farthest corners of even the largest courtrooms. “I should have expected I’d find you here!”

Nick and van Mieren had faced off in the courtroom a few times before, and Nick had always gotten the short end of the stick. But tonight he felt strangely confident because van Mieren seemed unusually shaken. There was a look of panic in his eyes, and he seemed to have aged by many years since their last meeting. He had lost weight in his face, but not around the belly; he looked sick, and his suit hung loose around him.

“You’re here too, Nelson,” Nick replied, “despite the fact that a complete news blackout was ordered. I guess the bush drums are in good working order.”

“I demand to see my client,” van Mieren insisted, ignoring Nick’s remark.

There was renewed commotion at the door of the police station, and then a man appeared. Nick was surprised to recognize John de Lancie—the US Attorney for the Southern District of New York.

When he arrived in front of the police station, de Lancie instantly realized that he’d made a big mistake. A swarm of reporters huddled in front of the massive granite facade on Simpson Street. A flurry of
flashbulbs went off as he pushed his way through the intrusive crowd, silent and grim. De Lancie’s anger mixed with cold fear when he saw the mayor—of all people—in the waiting room. He was still measured against the success of his predecessor, and he felt in this moment that he was a pale comparison. It was too late to sweep this incident under the rug, and he could hardly leave now. He had to somehow make the best out of this without raising the suspicions of that clever fox Kostidis. Never before had he felt such an impotent anger; never before had he broken out into such a fearful sweat. De Lancie didn’t care about Cesare Vitali at all, but he needed to focus in order to avoid a tactical mistake; the consequences could prove fatal. “What’s actually going on here?” he asked, irritated.

Nelson van Mieren repeated his complaint.

“You’re going to see your client soon enough,” de Lancie said, but he stared at Nick. There was anger in his eyes; Nick thought that he also detected a hint of insecurity.

“What are
you
doing here?” de Lancie asked in a harsh tone. “You want your old job back, or you’re just coincidentally in this neighborhood at this time of night?”

His voice was oozing animosity.

“Call it curiosity, or even personal interest.”

Nick wondered why the US attorney was so irritated by his presence.

“I don’t understand why the mayor, the deputy police commissioner, and the US attorney are called over here because a few hooligans tried to burn down a tenement in the South Bronx,” de Lancie sputtered. “What’s the big deal?”

“One police officer was seriously wounded, one person is dead, and there was significant property damage,” Tremell interjected. “Furthermore, I requested someone from the US Attorney’s Office, but not you specifically, sir.”

John de Lancie turned to face him. He opened his mouth for a sharp rebuttal, but when faced with Nick’s inquiring gaze, he chose to remain silent.

“Well,” he continued in a more subdued tone, “as far as I can tell we’re here because the son of someone who has much power and influence in this city has been arrested. I’m less concerned about the incident than damage control in the public eye.”

“Pardon me?” Nick thought that he misheard. “A police officer is fighting for his life in the hospital! What kind of damage are you trying to control?”

“My God, Nick.” Drops of sweat appeared on de Lancie’s forehead. “It’s not even clear yet whether this young man shot the officer. Just because his father is your enemy, we shouldn’t allow ourselves to be accused of overreacting!”

Captain Tremell’s and Lucas Morgan’s jaws dropped in surprise. The nightly raids on apartment buildings where people’s lives were threatened could hardly be considered a trifle!

“Vitali’s not just my enemy,” Nick responded. “He’s an unscrupulous criminal. And I haven’t changed my opinion. I still believe that we need to put a stop to him if we want to establish a minimum level of safety and order in this city.”

Nick noticed de Lancie’s nervousness, saw the sweat on his forehead, and remembered his suspicion that Vitali had bought de Lancie. It was hard to believe, but seemed to be true. Vitali had sent the US attorney to make this issue disappear as fast as possible, and it probably would have worked if Kostidis hadn’t come running. De Lancie was grinding his teeth, and his face had an unhealthy ruddiness.

“I’d like to talk to the kid,” Nick said to Captain Tremell.

“No, you won’t.” De Lancie was vehement.

“And why not?”

“This is outside your jurisdiction!” De Lancie was sweating even more. The collar of his shirt was completely soaked through.

“I’m the mayor of this city,” Nick said, unmoved, giving his successor a piercing look. “I’m responsible for the security of my citizens. I want to ask this kid a few questions.”

The US attorney stared at Nick. His mind was spinning feverishly. He had to prevent the mayor from speaking to Cesare Vitali under all circumstances. De Lancie knew Kostidis all too well. He’d admired him in earlier days as a US attorney because hardly anyone else was as successful in the courtroom. He could slip into the role of thundering prosecutor or understanding friend, and his summations were famous and brilliant. He played every role that promised to lead him to success. He knew how to influence the jury and manipulate witnesses into making statements they never intended to make. The secrets behind his legendary success as an attorney were his knowledge of human nature, his ability to empathize with his counterparts, his perseverance, and his computer-like memory. De Lancie knew that Cesare Vitali would be completely defenseless against this man. He responded to Kostidis’s gaze with powerless anger, clenched his hands into fists, and opened them again.

“No one will talk to Mr. Vitali until he’s been presented before the judge.” Captain Tremell closed the discussion. “Not even the emperor of China!”

“I’m the chief federal law-enforcement officer for the Southern District of New York,” de Lancie insisted. “We’ve taken over the investigation in this case, and I demand to see this man right now!”

Captain Tremell exchanged looks with Lucas Morgan and then shrugged his shoulders. He led the men to the interrogation rooms.

“
You
will get out of here!” De Lancie pointed with his index finger at Kostidis. The latter looked at the US attorney for a moment, and then he shrugged his shoulders.

“Get me Mr. Vitali’s lawyer!” de Lancie snarled at the police officer standing at the door. “This man has a right to legal representation!”

Lucas Morgan wondered why de Lancie was acting so strangely. Furthermore, he seemed to be afraid of Kostidis—but why?

“Why is this taking so long?” De Lancie looked nervously at his watch, pacing the room with long strides.

“I need to wrap this up, too,” Nick said. “Fortunately, the kid already confessed to everything. It looks as though we have nearly enough evidence to take on Vitali.”

De Lancie turned around quickly. His Adam’s apple jumped up and down nervously, and rivers of sweat ran down his forehead. “You should be happy, John,” Nick said with feigned innocence. “I’ve been after Vitali for twenty years and never had such good evidence against him as you have today.”

“This isn’t your job anymore, Kostidis!” de Lancie hissed. “The work of the US Attorney’s Office is no longer any of your business!”

Nick turned around in the door frame.

“Sometimes I wonder,” he said slowly, without letting de Lancie out of his sight, “which side you’re on.”

The US attorney was speechless as he stared at Nick. His nerves were about to explode. Nick walked over to Frank, who was waiting for him at the sergeant’s desk.

“Let’s go,” Nick said to him. “Vitali has already confessed anyway. He did so under pressure, but we know that these guys worked under the orders of Vitali’s henchman. So the connection is there.”

Frank stared at his boss.

“De Lancie is Vitali’s man,” Nick said in a low voice. “I had a hunch. He knows that I suspect him too. I stepped on his toes pretty badly. I’m afraid that now he won’t leave a stone unturned to discredit me in public.”

“Hmm.” Frank had a concerned expression on his face. At that moment, commotion broke out near the holding cells. Captain Tremell and two officers came running from the cell block with faces as white as sheets.

“Goddamn, shit!” The otherwise calm commanding officer of the Forty-First Precinct was beside himself. “Vitali hung himself in his cell!”

“What?” Nick and Frank asked as if speaking with one voice.

“Yes, goddamn it! They forgot to take away his belt! He hung himself from the heating pipe!”

De Lancie lunged out of the interrogation room, his bloodshot eyes bulging out of his face.

“What is this bullshit!” he roared. “Am I surrounded by idiots?”

The police doctor who just happened to be there at that time of night ran past them, followed by van Mieren and the other officers. De Lancie’s gaze fell on Nick.

“This suits your plans exactly!” he said spitefully.

“No, not at all,” Nick replied. “He would’ve been far more useful to us alive. Good night, John.”

“Go to hell!” de Lancie growled after the mayor. Despite his fear, he was secretly relieved that Cesare Vitali was dead. Now he only had to deal with a corpse instead of keeping a guilty criminal from going to the slammer.