Raging Heat полностью

While Opal thought that over, Rook tapped her shoulder and added, “And if that’s not good enough, imagine the media buzz and word of mouth Smuggled Souls will get if your film is instrumental in taking down a corrupt power broker and a human trafficking ring.”

Opal Onishi cocked an eyebrow and smiled.

Jeanne Capois was alive. At least on film. And in that digital form, the twenty-something Haitian immigrant had achieved a sort of immortality. She exuded a goodness and quiet grace that filled the screen and the entirety of Detective Raley’s media kingdom back uptown. Her Creole notes flowed musically around her even after she had spoken her words. The warm French flavor stood in sharp contrast to the disturbing testimony she was offering.

The backdrop was a bookcase — very Ken Burns-style — with her eyeline a few degrees off the camera lens as she spoke to her unseen interviewer, Opal Onishi. The young woman did not smile — this was all too intense for that — but Jeanne Capois looked like a person who commonly smiled, and made others join in just for seeing hers.

Nobody in the small room spoke. Not Raley, not Rook, not Detective Heat, who took notes and jotted time codes off the digits scrolling in a corner of the monitor so that Rales could assemble a highlight reel of the most damning allegations.

When the interview ended and the screen went dark, all three sat in silence, hearing only the cooling fans of the equipment and Rook muttering a small “Fuck.”

Nikki swept aside a tear before the lights came up then tore the relevant sheets off her pad for Raley to edit by. Heat smelled that she was inches from the truth. She stood and said, “Let’s go get this guy.”

Detectives Rhymer and Feller had returned to the bull pen when Heat and Rook came back from their screening. They were particularly animated and it took some work for Nikki to adjust to their manic chatter after what she had just experienced. “Did I score something new, or did I not?” asked Feller.

“You did,” said Rhymer. “Actually both. I was there. But it was mostly him.”

“Maybe one of you could do me a favor before they try to pull the plug on this case anytime now, and just give me a report.”

“I’ll take this,” said Feller, flattening a palm on his chest. “My quadrant — the one you assigned me from the Murder Board for drilling down — included the interview we conducted with Fidel “FiFi” Figueroa. Lots to sift through there, but, skeevy as he is, the man gave us some good intel.”

“Is this you getting to the point?” heckled Ochoa from his desk.

“Remember, Detective Heat, how he used a term to describe Fabian Beauvais?”

“Astucia,” said Heat.

“Plus-ten for you. It occurred to me that you can’t go around exhibiting balls like that, bluffing your way into office buildings with a sandwich cooler to steal documents without setting off a few alarms here and there.”

“It’s an odds game,” offered Rhymer.

“Exactly. So I thought, let me take two elements.” Randall held one hand to the sky and said, “Fabian Beauvais and his astucia right here.…” And then held his other hand up. “And bad shit involving Keith Gilbert here.” He brought the hands together and interlocked his fingers. “So I got on the blower to the Real Time Crime Center and asked the detective on duty to run a computer search for incidents and complaints at the Gilbert Maritime tower on Madison, Midtown. Took a while to get back to me with the hurricane and all, but after we wrapped at Braun’s commando post in the Bronx, I get the call. A trespass complaint weeks ago. No arrest, but officers responded, so it was in the database.”

Nikki said, “I’m interested now.”

“Just wait. We paid a visit. The building’s closed like everything else today, but security’s working. I get the security chief to look at the mug shot of Fabian Beauvais. Guess what he says.”

“‘The sandwich guy,’” said Rook.

Feller made a slow rotation to him and said. “My punch line. I tell the whole friggin’ story and you steal the punch line.”

Rook shrugged contritely. “Sorry.…Inside thoughts, inside thoughts.”

Rhymer, ever earnest jumped in. “Can we not lose track of the fact that we have established that Beauvais did work Gilbert’s corporate HQ to steal documents in his cooler?”

“It’s an important piece. Thorough work, you two. After the interview Heat just watched, she certainly knew why Beauvais was targeting Gilbert. What she didn’t know was what kind of information he had gotten on him. At least she didn’t know yet.

Rook arrived at Nikki’s desk. “What’s up?”

“I’d like you to do something for me — that is, if you’re not too busy.”

“I smart with your implication. Don’t you think a small word of acknowledgment is in order for me getting Opal Onishi to give up her raw video without a First Amendment battle?” Rook searched her face, and all he got was a flat stare. “Apparently that will have to wait. What can I do?”

“You know your old girlfriend at CIA?”

He enjoyed this moment. “Hm. You’re going to have to be more specific. Which one?”