“Hey, Alex, I’m a little busy ri—”
She interrupted, “The team’s coming to Burlington.”
“What? I thought you were in New Hampshire.”
“We were. But another case is suddenly taking precedence.”
“What case?”
“Yours.”
Chapter 72
ROSS BOGART LOOKED EVERY INCH the FBI agent someone would expect to see on TV. Tall, physically fit, good-looking, with sharp features, alert eyes, and a quiet competency. But it was more than looking the part. The man was a gifted investigator and worked exceedingly long hours at his job.
Todd Milligan was nearly a carbon copy of his boss, albeit a bit shorter and about a decade younger. He and Decker had been at cross-purposes early on in their professional relationship but had long since reached common ground. The fact that Decker had saved his life once hadn’t hurt either.
The FBI team had flown into the nearest regional airport and driven straight to Burlington, telling Decker that they preferred to meet at his place rather than the police station. Now they were standing in Decker’s room at the Residence Inn. Melvin Mars was there as well, as was Mary Lancaster. The male FBI agents were dressed in matching dark suits, starched white shirts, and striped ties, and they sported impassive features. Alex Jamison had on a black pantsuit with a white shirt and low heels. Her expression was equally serious.
“Detective Lancaster, it’s been a while, good to see you,” said Bogart.
She replied, “Well, looks like we’re hunting with Decker again. Like old times.”
Decker said, “Why are you here, Ross? You didn’t say.”
Bogart leaned back against the wall and folded his arms over his chest. “We cracked the wall around two of those shell companies that you sent to Alex.”
“Meaning the backers for Rachel Katz?”
“Yes. Although the financial relationships apparently go back farther than that. To the time of David Katz’s being in charge of the business.”
“And what did you find?” asked Lancaster.
“Both companies were set up by a businessman with known ties to a Russian oligarch. That’s why we’re here.”
Lancaster gaped. “A Russian oligarch is bankrolling a business in Burlington, Ohio? How does that make sense?”
Bogart said, “It’s a fact, so somehow it makes sense. We just have to figure out how.”
Lancaster looked over at Decker. “I didn’t see that one coming.”
“The room underneath the American Grill,” said Decker. “We speculated that it was laundering people. Giving them new identities, and then sending them off into the American workforce in places of influence through Brad Gardiner’s placement business.”
“But what they’re really doing is spying on us?” said Jamison.
Lancaster nodded. “Exactly. And let’s face it, legit businesses don’t have ID mills hidden under restaurants. Their intent is clearly nefarious.”
Decker had been typing in something on his phone. He looked up and said, “We need to find Gardiner and Peyton. And we need to dig into Gardiner’s business.”
“We didn’t know about Brad Gardiner,” said Bogart. “But now that we do, we’ll get going on that. You said he’s disappeared?”
“Along with Bill Peyton, the manager of the American Grill. Ironic, isn’t it?”
“What?” said Bogart.
“That they called it the American Grill, since it was apparently financed by a Russian oligarch.” He thought of something else. “The tats on the two dead guys, Tyson and Stevens.”
“What about them?” said Bogart.
“Aryan Nation, Nazi, and KKK.”
“Right.”
“But there was one more.”
Bogart thought for a moment but then shook his head. “Which one?”
“KI.”
“I thought that was something to do with the Klan,” said Jamison.
“I did too. And there is actually a Klan symbol close to that.” He held up his phone. “But I just did some digging after you told us about the Russian connection.”
“And?” said Bogart.
“Back in the forties, KI was sort of a foreign intelligence agency in Russia. KI apparently stands for ‘Committee of Information.’”
“Damn,” said Jamison, while Bogart looked intensely interested.
“How does an old and presumably now-defunct spy agency figure into this?” he asked.
“I look forward to asking Bill Peyton, or whatever his real name is, for the answer,” replied Decker.
“But David Katz built the Grill fifteen years ago,” said Lancaster. “Are you telling me that the Russians were involved in this stuff here all that time ago?”
Bogart said, “People think the Russians just started messing with us. It was long before that. They’ve had spies all over this country ever since the Cold War started.”
“But a spy operation in Burlington?” said Lancaster.
“Softer target,” said Bogart. “Not as many resources. And for a lot of these people, I imagine they don’t end up working in Burlington. I imagine that Gardiner places them all over the country. This is just the launch pad.”
“The map we found in the underground room confirms that,” noted Decker. “These tentacles go all over the country, and to the largest metro areas.”
“So, Gardiner’s a traitor,” exclaimed Lancaster. “And so is Peyton.”
“If they’re even American,” pointed out Bogart. “Now we just have to find them and prove it. I’m calling in more assets, but we want to do this on the QT. We have no idea who else might be involved in this. That’s why I didn’t want to come to the station initially.”
Lancaster looked stunned. “Wait a minute. Are you saying…?”
“What he’s saying, Mary, is that no one is above suspicion,” said Decker. “And I agree with him.”
Lancaster looked put out by this but remained silent.
Bogart gazed at Decker. “You’ve been in the trenches here. And know the territory better. How do you want to do this?”
“BOLOs on both Peyton and Gardiner. Maintain round-the-clock protection on Katz and Mitzi Gardiner. Right now, they’re the only witnesses we have.” He paused. “We need to get a search warrant for Gardiner’s business. Hopefully we’ll be able to find out who he’s placed and where.”
Decker eyed Mars. “And I’m afraid that Rachel Katz would have had to know about all this at some point.”
“But she kept quiet and played along,” said Mars.
“Looks that way.”
“Maybe she had no choice,” said Mars defensively.
“People always have the choice to either be a traitor or do the right thing,” said Milligan sternly.
“And Mitzi Gardiner?” asked Lancaster.
Decker said, “She was an addict who set up her father. She probably didn’t know about the possible spy operation, and she didn’t need to know.”
“But why have Gardiner marry her?” said Lancaster.
“What better way to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid than by having one of the people involved right there every day? And Mitzi turned out to be a great mom and doting wife. For Brad Gardiner it was probably a win-win. He was playing a role and I’m sure he was well compensated for it. There are worse ways to spend your life than being rich.”