Chapter 6 - The Cop Who Wanted Out
Daniel Mercer did not answer another call.
Harper tried three times.
Sofia tried once.
Gabriel tried through Elias.
Nothing.
By noon, Mercer’s phone had been switched off.
Harper stood beside Sofia’s office window and looked at the courthouse below.
Derek had not threatened her directly.
He did not need to.
The photograph had been enough.
He was telling her that anyone who helped her could become a target.
Sofia closed her laptop.
“We need to decide whether to take Mercer’s call to Internal Affairs.”
Harper turned.
“Would that protect him?”
“Maybe.”
“That means no.”
“It means I can’t promise.”
Harper looked at Gabriel.
He had arrived after the guardianship hearing ended.
He stood near the door, far enough away to satisfy Harper’s need for space even when the court order no longer applied outside Noah’s presence.
“What would you do?”
Gabriel studied her.
“If Mercer is willing to talk, I’d find him before Derek does.”
Sofia frowned.
“You cannot abduct a Boston police officer.”
“I didn’t say abduct.”
“You were thinking it loudly.”
Gabriel ignored her.
Harper looked at Elias.
“Can you find him?”
“Probably.”
“Before Derek?”
Elias’s expression did not change.
“Maybe.”
Another honest answer.
Harper appreciated it.
“Do it.”
Sofia looked at her.
“That puts you deeper into Ashford’s world.”
Harper knew.
Every decision seemed to charge interest.
Doing nothing kept her safer legally.
It might leave Mercer alone with Derek.
Helping Mercer could give her proof.
It could also hand Derek another argument that Harper was collaborating with organized crime.
“I’m already in his world.”
Harper looked at the photograph of her mother.
“I just didn’t know my mother was here first.”
Gabriel’s gaze shifted toward the picture.
Within an hour, Elias located Mercer’s car in a parking garage near Jamaica Plain.
Empty.
Blood on the driver-side door.
Not enough to prove a serious injury.
Enough to prove something had happened.
His service weapon remained locked in the trunk.
His badge was on the passenger seat.
Harper stared at the photos Elias sent.
“A cop doesn’t leave his badge.”
“No.”
Gabriel looked at Elias.
“Cameras?”
“Garage system was offline for eleven minutes.”
Sofia sighed.
“Of course it was.”
Elias continued.
“But a pharmacy across the street caught part of the exit.”
He opened a video on his tablet.
A dark SUV left the garage.
License plate obscured.
For two seconds, the passenger window passed beneath a streetlight.
A man’s face appeared.
Daniel Mercer.
Alive.
Sitting upright.
Beside him was someone else.
Not Derek.
Harper leaned closer.
“Who’s driving?”
Elias enlarged the frame.
Mrs. Morrison made a quiet sound.
Gabriel stared.
Harper looked between them.
“Who is that?”
Gabriel answered.
“Victor Raines.”
“Who?”
“A retired detective.”
Harper waited.
Gabriel’s voice became colder.
“He was Frank Lawson’s partner.”
That was the unexpected alliance.
By two o’clock, Victor Raines called.
Not Gabriel.
Harper.
She answered from Sofia’s conference room.
“Ms. Queen.”
His voice was older.
Rough.
“You have Mercer?”
“Yes.”
“Is he alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere Derek doesn’t know.”
Harper looked at Gabriel.
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because Daniel told me what he did to your guardianship papers.”
“That proves he talked.”
“It proves I know something Derek didn’t want outside Precinct 12.”
“Where are you?”
“Not telling Ashford.”
Gabriel heard that.
He smiled without humor.
Raines continued.
“I’ll meet you.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother once saved my career.”
Harper looked at Mrs. Morrison.
“How?”
“She didn’t expose me when she could have.”
“That isn’t the same as saving you.”
“No.”
Raines paused.
“It was better than I deserved.”
Harper’s fingers tightened around the phone.
“What did you do?”
“I took money.”
There was no hesitation.
Harper sat down.
“From who?”
“I didn’t know at first.”
“Try again.”
Raines sighed.
“From a security company called Harbor Shield.”
Gabriel’s expression changed.
Harper caught it.
“Gabriel knows that name.”
Raines heard her.
“That’s why I didn’t want Ashford there.”
Harper looked at Gabriel.
“What is Harbor Shield?”
Gabriel’s jaw flexed.
“A company my father owned.”
The room went quiet.
Raines continued through the speaker.
“Thomas Ashford said the payments were off-book overtime for dock security.”
“Were they?”
“No.”
“What were they?”
“Protection.”
Harper’s eyes remained on Gabriel.
“For what?”
“Shipments.”
“What kind of shipments?”
Raines hesitated.
“Things I’m not going to discuss on a phone.”
Gabriel stepped closer.
“You’ll discuss them in person.”
Raines laughed once.
“Thomas’s boy.”
“Victor.”
“You sound just like him.”
“I’m told that isn’t a compliment.”
“It isn’t.”
Harper interrupted.
“Where do we meet?”
Raines gave an address for an abandoned church hall in Somerville.
Sofia objected immediately.
Harper went anyway.
Gabriel stayed outside at Raines’s insistence.
Elias stayed even farther away.
Harper entered with Mrs. Morrison.
Victor Raines sat alone at a folding table.
He was sixty-eight.
Heavy coat.
Gray hair.
Weathered face.
A tremor in his left hand.
Daniel Mercer sat against the wall.
His lip was split.
One eye was swollen.
Harper walked directly to him.
“Derek?”
Mercer nodded.
“He asked who I called.”
“Did you tell him?”
“No.”
“Then how did you get out?”
Victor answered.
“I hit Derek with my car.”
Harper turned.
Victor shrugged.
“Not hard enough.”
For the first time in twenty-four hours, Harper almost laughed.
Mercer rubbed his jaw.
“He was going to put me in an abandoned narcotics property.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means evidence gets found next to you.”
“Drugs?”
“Guns.”
Mercer looked ashamed.
“Whatever makes the story easy.”
Harper pulled out a chair.
“Tell me about my mother.”
Victor did not pretend not to understand.
“Marisol found out Harbor Shield was paying police officers.”
“We know that.”
“She found something else.”
“What?”
“Who was authorizing the payouts.”
Harper leaned forward.
“Thomas Ashford?”
Victor looked toward the door.
“No.”
Mrs. Morrison inhaled quietly.
“Then who?”
Victor’s eyes settled on her.
“You really never knew?”
Mrs. Morrison’s face hardened.
“Answer.”
“Someone using Thomas Ashford’s authorization code.”
Harper frowned.
“Could someone do that?”
“Not easily.”
“Who had access?”
Victor looked toward the door again.
“Thomas.”
He raised one finger.
“His finance director.”
Second finger.
“His attorney.”
Third.
“And one other person.”
“Who?”
Victor’s mouth tightened.
“Thomas’s seventeen-year-old son.”
Gabriel.
Harper stared at him through the wall as if she could somehow see him outside.
“That’s impossible.”
Mrs. Morrison spoke first.
“Gabriel was in boarding school.”
“Most of the year.”
Victor nodded.
“But his father gave him access to the company network.”
Harper remembered Gabriel’s age.
Thirty-two now.
Seventeen years ago, he would have been fifteen.
She looked at Victor.
“You just said seventeen.”
He frowned.
Then corrected himself.
“Fifteen.”
The mistake mattered.
It told Harper Victor did not know everything as well as he pretended.
“You’re trying to make me suspicious of him.”
“I’m trying to make you suspicious of everyone.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what kept me alive.”
Victor reached into his coat.
Mrs. Morrison stiffened.
He removed an old cassette tape.
Harper stared.
“What is that?”
“Frank Lawson gave it to me three days before he died.”
Derek’s father.
“What’s on it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You never listened?”
“Tried.”
Victor placed it on the table.
“It was blank.”
Harper frowned.
“Then why keep it?”
“Because Frank made me promise.”
“What did he say?”
Victor looked at Mercer.
Then Harper.
“He said if Derek ever started asking about the Queen woman, I was supposed to give this to Marisol.”
Harper’s throat tightened.
“She was already dead.”
“I know.”
“So why didn’t you find me?”
Victor’s eyes dropped.
“Cowardice.”
The answer was so plain she believed it.
Harper picked up the cassette.
A white label was stuck to one side.
No writing.
Just three blue dots.
Mrs. Morrison leaned closer.
“I’ve seen that mark.”
Harper looked at her.
“Where?”
“Your mother used it on files.”
“What did it mean?”
Mrs. Morrison shook her head.
“I never asked.”
Mercer leaned forward.
“Frank kept an old tape recorder in his basement.”
Victor looked at him.
“Derek cleared the house after the funeral.”
“Not everything.”
Mercer’s swollen eye narrowed.
“There’s a property storage room under Precinct 12.”
Harper stared.
“You think it’s there?”
“I saw boxes from Frank’s house years ago.”
“Can you get inside?”
Mercer hesitated.
His badge was compromised.
His career was probably over.
Helping Harper could finish it.
“Yes.”
“What will it cost you?”
Mercer gave a tired smile.
“Probably the job.”
Harper did not ask again.
That night, Mercer used a retired access code Victor remembered.
Harper remained outside with Elias.
Gabriel stayed away because too many cameras near the precinct knew his face.
Twenty-three minutes later, Mercer returned carrying a battered portable cassette recorder.
They drove to Sofia’s office.
Harper placed the tape inside.
Pressed play.
Static.
Nothing else.
Victor had been right.
Blank.
Harper listened for thirty seconds.
Then a minute.
Then two.
She nearly stopped it.
Noah’s voice came from the couch behind her.
He had been drawing while Sofia worked.
“That sounds like Mom’s song.”
Harper turned.
“What?”
“The buzzing.”
He walked closer.
“There.”
He pointed toward the recorder.
Beneath the static was a faint pattern.
Three tones.
Pause.
Two tones.
Pause.
Four.
Not music.
A sequence.
Harper remembered her mother humming the Kuna lullaby while locking the small metal cashbox she kept beneath her bed.
Always the same part.
Always when her fingers moved across the dial.
Harper rewound the tape.
Listened again.
Three.
Two.
Four.
Mrs. Morrison whispered.
“Numbers.”
Harper stared at the cassette.
The supposed recording was not a recording at all.
It was a code.
Sofia examined the cassette case.
“Three-two-four.”
Elias looked at Harper.
“Locker?”
“Safe?”
Mrs. Morrison suddenly stood.
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
She was staring at the three blue dots.
“That isn’t just Marisol’s mark.”
Her face had gone pale.
“Those were the archive colors at Ashford Maritime.”
Gabriel stepped forward.
“What archive?”
“The old sub-basement.”
Mrs. Morrison looked at Harper.
“Section three.”
Then at the tape.
“Cabinet two.”
Her eyes widened.
“Drawer four.”
Gabriel grabbed his coat.
Mrs. Morrison did not move.
“There’s a problem.”
“What?”
“The old Maritime building is being demolished.”
“When?”
May you like
Mrs. Morrison looked at the clock.
“Tomorrow morning.”
