The Getaway (Sam Archer 2) (24 page)

‘Yes, I would.’

Katic took a deep breath. ‘Look, don’t think that I have a vendetta against him. I don’t. I’m not saying that he is the leak for sure. He’s just been the one that I’ve been watching most closely. But someone in the team has dirt on them. Maybe more than one of them.’

Archer thought for a moment.

‘What about the three of you that were already here?’ he asked ‘The originals. Was anyone bent out of shape by Gerrard taking the post?’

‘Of course. All three of us were. We all wanted that spot as head of the detail. We’d put all the work in and then they just pass us all over for Gerrard. It was bullshit. We were pissed. For him, it was a demotion. For myself, O’Hara and Lock, it would have been the promotion of a lifetime.’

‘Think cold, unemotional. Take out any personal relationships. Could O’Hara or Lock have flipped?’

She nodded. ‘Yes. Conceivably so. O’Hara is a father of three. He’s got a lot of mouths to feed. And Lock is a single guy with extravagant tastes. He could be after some extracurricular income.’

She
shook her head, looking at him.

‘Farrell’s crew are good. But they’re not that good,’ she said. ‘We should have rung them up and got them courtside by now. But it’s been over a year, ten successful jobs in the city, and we still haven’t got a set of cuffs on any of them. They’re taking the city for millions.’

Another car passed
, but neither reacted. Archer didn’t take his eyes off her.

‘It’s uncanny,’ she continued. ‘They know exactly what to look out for and where to strike. Farrell and Ortiz, they’re fighters, not brain surgeons or college grads. Someone is helping them out. We upped surveillance on certain banks and trucks we thought they’d go after, but they always manage to hit the ones we aren’t tailing and box our counter-measures. Someone is telling them our game-plan. And tipping them off. They are always one step ahead of us.’

Pause.

‘Maybe Farrell has something on one of you? Maybe he’s made some threats?’ Archer said.

She nodded. ‘That makes sense. We’ve brought them all in for questioning. They know who we are. They even know our names. It wouldn’t be hard for one of them to dig deeper and try to find some leverage.’ Katic looked over at him in the driver seat. ‘Look, you probably think I’m full of shit. No one from the Bureau would ever go against their own team, right? How could that ever happen? But I’m not th
e only one with my suspicions.’

‘Who else has them?’

She looked him in the eye.

‘
Had
them. Your father. He agreed with every word I just told you.’

THIRTEEN

‘I made contact with him ten days ago,’ Katic explained, as Archer listened close
ly
. ‘He’d been sent from D.C anonymously. No one in our office knew he was here. His superiors knew that he and Gerrard were old friends. Something wasn’t adding up with our numbers, and everyone in the Bureau knows about it. It’s an embarrassment. The NYPD Chiefs were aware of it from the reports and were using it as cannon fodder, taking shots at our organisation, like bragging rights. So they sent your father down here to investigate. Stay in the shadows and find out what the hell was going wrong.’

‘How did you know he was here?’

She paused.

‘Because I followed Gerrard home one night.’

‘What? Are you serious?’ he asked. ‘That could get you fired, Katic. You could get in some serious shit for this.’

‘I know. But I picked up something else instead. I saw your father, in a car outside Gerrard’s apartment. I recognised him from D.C. Couldn’t miss him, face like his. I approached him, tapped on the window, and asked if we could go for a coffee. He said yes. When we got there, we spoke. I outlined my suspicions straight away, put all my cards on the table. And he agreed with everything I just told you and told me why he was here. He agreed that something definitely wasn’t right. Bank robbery clearance rates in major cities are usually bad, but never this catastrophic. Something was
very
wrong.’

She paused.

‘And he agreed with you about Gerrard. He was so mad that the Assistant Directors thought that Gerrard could be doing something shady. It made him even more upset that they’d wanted to send him down here to tail him.
It’s all bullshit,
he told me.
Gerry would never do a thing like that
. He was adamant. I think he took the post because he wanted to build a case to show that Gerrard
hadn’t
flipped. That was his intention.’

She paused.

‘Anyway, he called me last Thursday. Late, around 10 pm. Told me he’d found something, solid proof that Gerry wasn’t the guy. He wouldn’t tell me what it was over the phone. Said I’d find out soon enough, and that he was leaving later on that night. But before morning, his body was found in the parking lot in
Queens
. He found something on someone. He confirmed it to me, over the phone. And the timing tells me that whatever it was got him killed.’

Archer leaned forward, cursing quietly. Katic looked at him, concerned
.

‘What do you think?’ she asked
.

‘I think you’re telling the truth. Because Farrell told me the same damn thing. He said someone out of your team slotted my father before he left town.’

He paused and looked over at her, the pistol still in his hand.

‘But maybe it was you.’

‘How so?’

‘You were here before the others. Clearly you are tough and career driven. I’m guessing you wanted that promotion as head of the Task Force real
ly
bad
ly
. But they passed you over, probably not because you’re a woman, but you probably thought that was why. I don’t see a wedding ring, so you’re single. Not much money. So you decided to work with Farrell. You picked up my dad and tailed him, covering your tracks. My father called you and told you he’d found something and you killed him before he could tell anyone what it was. Then you decided to rip Farrell off, and hold me up for the cash in the trunk.’

She didn’t answer. Silence filled the car. He looked over at her. She’d been wearing that exact same expression on her face the first time he ever saw her, at the funeral a week ago. He was pretty good at spotting a liar, but this woman wasn’t lying. She looked too worried to be faking. She wasn’t a professional actress. She looked just like an FBI agent who was in some extremely deep shit.

‘It’s not me,’ she said. ‘All I can do is promise you. But someone in the team is for sure.’

‘Not Gerry.’

She shrugged. ‘I’m just looking at every scenario. But this thing could go up way above me, Archer. I was doing this with your father before he got killed. Now I’m doing it alone.’

Silence.

Both of them sat there, a thousand thoughts racing through each of their minds.

Archer went to speak, but a phone suddenly rang, b
reaking the silence in the car.

It was Katic’s.

She pulled it from her pocket. He saw her glance at the display.

‘It’s Siletti,’ she said. ‘He’s off duty. Maybe he can help?’

The phone continued to ring. She looked at Archer, her face asking permission because of the gun in his hand.

‘OK. Answer it,’ he said.

She pressed the button a
nd lifted it to her ear.

‘Hey.’

Archer
heard murmuring the other end.

After a
moment, Katic frowned. ‘What?’

‘What is it?’ Archer asked quietly.

She listened further, then covered the lower hal
f of the phone, turning to him.

‘He’s saying the NYPD have been informed that you are a suspect in the heist. Every cop in
the city is searching for you.’

She lifted her ha
nd and turned back to the call.

‘No, I’m with him,’ she told Siletti. ‘He’s innocent. He was working with Gerrard.’

Archer didn’t move. From his seat, he heard a quiet murmuring over the receiver as Siletti continued to talk down the line.

‘Where is he?’ Archer asked.

Katic heard this, then asked Siletti. There was a pause.

‘
Columbus Circle
.’

‘There’s a cinema by 67
th
and Broadway. Loews. Tell him to meet us there in fifteen minutes.’

Katic looked at him, covering the receiver. ‘That’s the other side of
the Park? Why not around here?’

‘Just tell him.’

She thought about it, then nodded and told Siletti the plan. Beside her, Archer pulled his own phone from his pocket and tried Gerrard again, lifting it to his ear, silently p
leading for someone to pick up.

But there was no response.

No one picked up.

67
th
and Broadway was a logistical problem for Katic and Archer to get to, being the other side of
Central Park
. Katic wanted to drive there in the cop car, but Archer refused. He knew the plates would be going out over every NYPD radio in the city. They wouldn’t even get halfway there before someone made the stolen vehicle and pulled them over. Katic argued, saying that all she had to was show her badge, but Archer demanded they left t
he vehicle parked where it was.

Archer didn’t tell her, but he was more worried than he was showing. Not only was every cop in the city looking for him, but the FBI were all-powerful here. If any of them were on the wrong side or had their own agenda, it would only be a matter of time before they tracked them down. And considering everything they now both knew, it was a certainty that someone out there would be desperate to silence them for good.

So the three options for transport were either walking, subway or taxi. The subway was out, as was walking. Both would take too long and Archer didn’t fancy getting cornered underground on a platform as they waited for a trai
n. So they opted for a taxi.

Before they left, Archer quickly changed out of the cop uniform, pulling on a grey t-shirt, blue jeans and a pair of black Converse sneakers he had stashed under the front seat of the car. He grabbed a thin navy blue-raincoat from the back-seat to go over it all, a cheap one he’d picked up at JC Penney’s the other day. It was a warm night, but he needed it to help conceal his pistol. He pulled it over his shoulders and stepped outside onto the sidewalk and shut and locked the c
ar.

Katic had also wanted to take the money with them, but Archer had refused that too. Strange as it felt, the money would be safer here. They couldn’t walk around the city carrying duffel bags containing almost a million dollars The car looked like any other amongst all the others on the kerb, save for the fact that it was a cop car. No one would ever guess what was in the trunk, and car-jackings were close to non-existent up here, especially on a NYPD squad car. So, much to Katic’s displeasure and against her sense of duty, the money stayed where it was. It felt unnatural to leave it here, but she realised it was the right thing to do in the circumstances.

There was another reason why Archer demanded they leave it behind. It had been a chaotic night so far, and from now on, he didn’t trust anybody but himself. Archer wanted to find someone they knew they could trust before handing over a single dollar. From what Katic had told him, everyone could be a suspect. And that included this guy Siletti.

As he locked the car, she walked to the sidewalk and stood beside him.

‘Ready?’ he asked, tu
cking the keys into his pocket.

‘Wait,’ she said. ‘Your pistol.’

‘What about it?’

‘I need it.’

He
looked at her, ready to refuse.

‘You can’t be running round town with a gun, Archer,’ she said. ‘You’re in deep shit already. You shoot someone, nothing I can do or say will help you.’

He looked at her for a long moment, weighing her up.

‘Can I trust you?’ he asked.

‘With your life.’

He believed her. So he pulled the Sig from
his belt and passed it over.

If she was the rat, he was a dead man. She’d kill him right there and t
hen and make off with the cash.

But she nodded a small nod of gratitude and tucked it into the back of her waistband, checking the safety catch was on fir
st.

Archer hid a small smile.

Their level of trust had just gone up a notch.

Once they headed up the hill and up 92
nd
to
2
nd
Avenue
, it took a couple minutes of walking downtown before a taxi passed. Archer was on his guard, looking for any cops on patrol or any squad cars speeding down the road, but they didn’t encounter any law enforcement. Katic hailed the cab, which slowed and pulled to a halt on the kerb beside them. They both climbed inside, Archer pulling the door shut behind them. Katic told the driver their destination and the vehicle moved off downtown, headed south towards 59
th
where they could pass under the Park and move up the other side in a big U. As they moved down the
Upper East Side
, the occasional police car flashed past the window but Archer kept his face looking inside the cab. They sat in silence. Neither wanted to talk within earshot of the cabbie, so Archer took the chance to get a closer look and sense of the woman beside him.