Lieutenant Martindale let out a hearty laugh. “Spoken like an Intel detective. If you ever get tired of chasing down murderers, we’ll always have a place for you here.”
I didn’t want to tell him that showing up at One Police Plaza every day would cause me too much stress. I’d probably end up with some rash or other disgusting reaction.
The lieutenant said, “I’ve done a favor or two for the LFP.”
“How’d it work out?”
“Just did my job. He seemed okay in a pudgy politician kind of way.” He waited for me to either laugh or agree.
Instead, I said, “We can still keep this conversation between us, right?”
“Intel is known for its discretion. Now, here’s a list of potential addresses and associates of Mr. Laar.” As he handed me the papers bound in a small folder, Lieutenant Martindale gave me a sideways glance. “You’re not thinking of going to Estonia, are you?”
“Why?”
“We don’t have an office there. Would be difficult to give you much support.”
“So I’d be on my own?”
“I didn’t say that. I just said it would be difficult to help you. The NYPD never leaves a man behind. We’d make sure you had what you needed.”
“What about the Estonian police? Would they help if I needed it?”
“Who knows? They deal with the US Embassy and the FBI Legat who covers all the Baltics. It’d take a while to get official approval for your trip through the FBI.”
“Then let’s forget our brothers and sisters who work for the federal government. Is that okay?”
Martindale laughed again. “I rarely think of them here in New York. You’re good to go as far as I’m concerned.”
I always appreciated my visits to the NYPD Intel Bureau.
CHAPTER 51
IT’S SURPRISINGLY EASY for an NYPD detective to get an audience with the mayor of New York when you have information about his daughter. Within thirty minutes of my call to his assistant, I was in Mayor Alfred Hanna’s main office in City Hall.
If I had ever questioned the mayor’s concern for his daughter, I now realized it was genuine. Although overweight and out of shape, the mayor was always known for dressing well; the New York Post had even branded him “the dapper dumbass.” Today, image seemed to be the last thing on his mind. He looked like he hadn’t slept in three days.
The mayor already had a synopsis of the shoot-out at Brew. He knew it was related to his daughter. That only made him more anxious. We sat on a black leather couch. I noticed a photo collage on the wall, images of his daughter from toddlerhood to her graduation from high school. There were other collages of his sons, but this one struck a chord. I wouldn’t look any better than him if one of my kids was missing.
I didn’t know how else to say it, so I got right to the point. “Mayor, everything I’ve learned points to your daughter being in Tallinn, Estonia. I need to take a trip there to run down more leads. I’m afraid that if your daughter was there of her own free will she would’ve been in touch with her mother. Just a phone call. Something. That’s why I need to travel.”
The news about his daughter bothered the mayor. For a moment, I thought he might cry. Then he looked up at me and said, “I can’t authorize travel like that. That kind of expense to find my daughter would cause the press to eviscerate me. There’s already been enough coverage of my divorce. That’s what drove the wedge between Natalie and me in the first place.”
From a public employee’s perspective, I understood what he was saying. From a father’s perspective, I was baffled. I would use everything in my power to find one of my kids. To hell with the media or anyone else.
The mayor stared silently out the window for a few moments. Then he turned to face me again. The couch felt like a giant beanbag chair forcing us to sit close to each other.
The mayor said, “I know what you’re thinking, Detective. You think all I care about is my political position. That’s not correct.”
Now I heard the weariness in his voice. He was beyond exhausted and just wanted to find his daughter.
The mayor continued. “I’m in a catch-22. I can’t authorize excessive city funds for a public employee to find my daughter. And I can’t use my own money to pay a public employee. I want to find my daughter, but I’ve also sworn to uphold laws and stick to a code of ethics. You guys at the PD and the people at the fire department may hate my policies about pay raises, but I made them in the best interest of the city. And now I can’t send you to find my daughter because it’s not in the best interest of the city. In fact, it goes against every position I ran on. Favoritism, funneling resources to the wealthy areas, and corruption within the city government itself.”
As he talked, his voice got stronger and he almost sounded like he was on the stump. But I understood what he was saying. I was even a little surprised by what he was saying. He was trying to do the right thing, no matter how hard it was. I had to respect that. I also had to tell him what I intended to do.
I said, “Mr. Mayor, I’m going to go look for Natalie on my own. No one needs to know. Not the media, not your constituents, not even your aides.”
Now the mayor stared at me. His mouth dropped open in surprise. All he could manage to say was “Why?”
“Because I’m a father, and I have daughters.”
CHAPTER 52
I BRACED FOR a brisk discussion, or what some people might call an argument, when I finally got Mary Catherine alone that night. I explained everything that had happened and finished with “That’s why I feel like I have to go to Estonia. That girl may be in real trouble, and no one’s going to do anything about it.”
I almost felt like closing my eyes and shying away as I waited for a torrent of Irish anger. Sometimes she used insults I had to look up or ask my grandfather to translate to judge how angry she was.
Mary Catherine was constantly concerned about me at work. She understood my sense of duty and the fact that I loved my job, and she maintained that she fell in love with me after I was already a cop. She understood it was part of me. That didn’t mean she kept quiet about her concerns.
This time she surprised me. As we stood on our balcony, listening to the gentle sounds of the city, she leaned across and kissed me on the cheek. Then she slid in close and locked arms with me. She didn’t say a word.
After a full minute, I had to ask. “Do you have a problem with me traveling to Estonia?”
“Will I miss you? Yes. Will I worry about you? Yes. Do I understand why you feel you have to go? Once again, I’d have to say yes. Michael, you’re nothing if not predictable when it comes to doing the right thing.”
I gave Mary Catherine a sideways glance. “You’re being remarkably reasonable about this. Am I walking into a trap?”
“I know how precious your daughters are to you. I just worry for your safety. You can’t fix everyone’s problems.”
“No, but I might be able to fix this one.”
“Can you count on anyone for help over there? The FBI? Anyone?”
This could’ve been an opportunity to ease her fears and tell her there was nothing to worry about. But that flew in the face of my policy of being open and honest with the woman I intended to spend the rest of my life with. “No, I’ll just be a tourist.”