Green Light (Sam Archer 7) (14 page)

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Authors: Tom Barber

Tags: #action, #police, #russia, #mafia, #new york, #nypd, #russian mafia, #counterterrorism, #sex trade, #actionpacked

BOOK: Green Light (Sam Archer 7)
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Get down!’
he shouted.

But it
was too late. The smaller figure pulled the trigger, firing a quick
double-tap, Hendricks taking both rounds in the centre of his chest
which knocked him back. Across the room, Archer was already on his
way down and aiming his Mossberg but then realised that unless he
had a clear shot the powerful shotgun could blast through the wall
and potentially kill anyone in the apartment across the
hall.

Using
every ounce of self-restraint he had, he held off pulling the
trigger and scrambled behind a couch as silenced pistol rounds
ripped through the fabric, spraying feathers and pieces of wood
into the air, the bullets smashing a lamp and a window behind him
as he drew the fire of both weapons.

Edging
forward, he reached the end of the couch and saw Hendricks lying on
the wooden floorboards, shot twice in the chest.

But then
the sergeant moved.

Lying on
his back, Hendricks suddenly brought up his Smith and Wesson and
pulled the trigger, hitting the smaller figure in the arm. The
larger figure fired again, hitting Hendricks right at the top of
his vest but giving Archer time to aim his shotgun at the smaller
figure standing just inside the apartment. He had a
shot.

He
pulled the trigger. It was a direct hit, straight to the torso, and
punched the anonymous figure off their feet, the sudden red on
their white overalls demonstrating that unlike Archer and
Hendricks, they weren’t wearing a vest. The other gunman saw his
partner go down and after hesitating for a split-second, abandoned
the fight, turned and took off down the corridor.

As
Hendricks staggered to his feet, still winded from the gunshots,
Archer took the lead, stepping quickly over the dead figure in
white to get to the door then snapping out low.

He
caught a glimpse of the other shooter reaching the stairs at the
end of the hallway before disappearing out of sight.

The
Mossberg in his hands, Archer took off after him.

As he
raced down the corridor and arrived at the stairs, he suddenly
snapped back as a barrage of bullets hit the plaster and wood
immediately above his head, the gunman emptying the clip at him
from two floors down.

Moments
later the fire ceased, replaced by the sound of running footsteps.
Descending the stairs two at a time, careful to stay against the
wall and out of the line of fire, Archer reached the ground floor,
made sure the gunman wasn’t waiting for him at the bottom and then
sprinted down the lower hallway towards the front door.

He burst
out through the door just as the white van parked ahead of the
police Ford roared off down the road. He raced after it but the
vehicle had a head start and turned the corner, quickly speeding
out of sight.

Archer
continued to the end of the street, rounding the corner but it was
already gone, the faint sound of a speeding engine disappearing
into the night.

Mossberg
in hand, he stood there for a few moments regaining his breath.
Frustrated, he then turned and moved back the way he’d come,
pulling his cell to call the Bureau and get them working the plates
immediately.

As he drew closer to Santiago’s apartment building, he saw two
Fords suddenly pulling up behind the one he and Hendricks had
arrived in. Shepherd and a blonde woman he vaguely remembered from
that day at the 114
th
stepped out of one, Josh and Marquez getting out
of the other, all four looking at him in surprise.


Too late, guys,’ Archer said. ‘You missed the
show.’


Story of our goddamn afternoon,’ Marquez replied, moving
forward with Josh to meet him.

FIFTEEN

Hendricks’ unsilenced Smith and Wesson gunshot and Archer’s
shotgun blast resulted in a flood of 911 calls from both inside the
apartment building and from nearby, meaning back-up was already on
its way by the time Archer had finished explaining to his
colleagues how he’d ended up in Rikers, his confrontation with the
gang in the shower block, how he and Hendricks had got the
information regarding Goya and Santiago’s place ahead of everyone
else and the shootout that had just followed.

Officers
in squad cars patrolling the area had pulled up outside and were
now reassuring frightened residents and concerned onlookers who’d
gathered on the street. A Forensics team had also just arrived and
were already heading up to the apartment, carrying cases full of
their gear.

Walking
back upstairs, accompanied by Josh and Marquez, Archer moved down
the corridor towards 4E and watched as CSU unpacked their
equipment, two investigators taking photographs of the crime-scene,
focusing on the dead figure by the doorway while residents down the
hall were being ushered away as they stared in shocked fascination
at the figure in white sprawled on the floor.

Beside
the corpse, Hendricks was talking with CSU’s lead investigator,
running her through the incident. The three rounds he’d taken to
the vest had left holes in the front fabric but they were the only
clue he’d been shot. Archer remembered only too well the sensation
of being hit in the vest. Hendricks’ reputation wasn’t undeserved;
he was one tough bastard.

Shifting
his attention, Archer looked down at the dead figure in white
overalls. The gas mask had been removed, revealing a slight,
brown-haired woman with several moles visible on the side of her
face. Her slack head was lolled to one side, dried blood running
from the side of her mouth, her eyes open but the light behind them
forever extinguished.

However,
even in death there was something about her that was
unsettling.

Who the hell are you,
he thought,
looking into her vacant eyes.


How many others were with her?’ Marquez asked him. ‘Just
one?’


Two. The guy I was chasing jumped into the back of a white
van. Someone else was driving; the guy we saw when we first pulled
up.’


Where are we at with the plates?’ Josh asked.


Ethan’s on it,’ Marquez said. ‘The local Precinct is sweeping
the area searching for the vehicle. We’ll find it.’

Archer looked beyond her at the blonde woman who’d shown up
with his three team-mates; she was staring down at the body. He
remembered seeing her at the 114
th
eight days ago when he’d laid
out Royston and vaguely recalled her name was Palmer, a social
worker. Even though they had bigger things to focus on, her
presence here bothered him; he’d learned from past experience never
to trust someone unless their background checked out.


Do you know who she is?’ Palmer asked quietly to no-one in
particular.


Not yet,’ one of the CSU investigators said, bending down
beside the body and pushing the woman’s fingers onto an electronic
pad. ‘But I’ll send her prints out. She’ll have a file
somewhere.’


You can be so sure?’ Palmer said.


You don’t do something like that and not have some kind of
history,’ the guy said, jabbing a thumb towards the apartment’s
bathroom.


Something like what?’ Josh asked, as beside him Archer
suddenly remembered that acrid chemical smell. He hadn’t had a
chance to take a proper look inside the bathroom before he and
Hendricks got jumped.


Go take a look for yourselves,’ the investigator said. ‘But be
warned; it ain’t pretty.’ He looked at Palmer. ‘Suggest you stay
here.’

Archer,
Josh and Marquez turned and walked over towards the bathroom.
Shepherd was already in there with an investigator; he turned as
his three detectives approached and shook his head, a strange look
on his face.

Once the
trio stepped forward, they could see why.

What
remained of what had once been a man was lying in the bath. He was
submerged in some sort of chemical cocktail that was eating through
his body. It was a horrific sight, made worse by the acrid smell of
chemicals hanging in the air, the extractor fan whirring but not
man enough for the job.

Staring
in horrified silence at the tub, the trio stood beside Shepherd,
the only noise in the room the rattling extractor fan.


Well those are my nightmares sorted for a while,’ Marquez
muttered.

The
investigator in the room rose, looking at the four
detectives.


I present Alex Santiago,’ he said. ‘Or what’s left of
him.’


What the hell is that stuff?’ Archer asked, looking at the
translucent liquid around the body. ‘Acid?’


It’s a lye mixture I’ve never seen before,’ the investigator
replied. ‘Sodium hydroxide, water and some other chemical that I’d
need a lab to identify. Variations of it are called
piranha solution
. I’ll
leave it to your imagination to figure out why.’

He
pointed at the tub with a gloved hand.


I can tell you already, this particular brew will chew through
a two hundred pound body in under an hour. And whoever did this
knew exactly what they were doing.’


How do you mean?’ Josh asked.


Ninety nine per cent of people who try to dispose of a body
like this screw up and use acid, which eats through the tub and
destroys the pipes. Lye solution doesn’t do that and the fumes
aren’t anywhere near as toxic. Give it sixty minutes and this stuff
will eat through anything you put in there. Then you turn on the
taps and flush away all the gunk that’s left at the bottom. No
blood, no trace, no damage to the pipes; nothing. Not even a tooth
or bone fragment as forensic evidence.’

He
directed his attention to Archer.


If you’d been thirty minutes later, there wouldn’t have been
anything left. He’d probably have gone down the drain and you’d
never have known he was here.’

There
was a pause.


Have you ever encountered anything like this before?’ Shepherd
asked.


Heard about it but never seen it for myself until now. I know
Mexican drug cartels have used it to dispose of bodies but that
process normally took days, not as fast as this. God only knows
what else they’ve put in it or where they got the recipe
from.’

The man
indicated to the apartment behind them, at the aftermath of the
gunfight, the shot-up furniture and pock-marked walls.


Did it look like this when you first arrived?’

Archer
shook his head. ‘No; no damage or sign of a disturbance anywhere.
Everything looked normal.’


If they shot him, hit him over the head or cut his throat, it
would have left blood spatter or other evidence for us to work
with. That means they restrained and killed him silently, leaving
no trace and without anyone else in the building hearing anything.
Then they went to work disposing of the body but would have had to
fill the tub with liquid they brought with them, from their
vehicle. That means they made a number of trips in and out of the
building without raising any suspicions.’


The neighbour thought they were a team of fumigators,’ Josh
said. ‘She saw them when she got back from work earlier and thought
they were here for pest control until they knocked on her door and
put a gun to her head. White overalls, black boots, gas masks, no
other details.’


So they had this all planned, not only with their disguise but
with the lye solution,’ the CSU investigator said. ‘That requires
patience, a cool head, zero conscience and a very strong
stomach.’

He
looked at the foursome.


Christ, you’re dealing with some nasty people here, guys. I’ve
done this job for seven years and encountered some real unpleasant
characters. Whoever did this is right up there.’

None of
the four detectives replied; a moment later the silence was broken
by the sound of Marquez’ phone ringing in her pocket. She withdrew
it and answered, glad to have a reason to avoid looking at what was
left of Santiago in the bath.


Marquez.’

She
listened for a moment, then looked at Shepherd, giving a thumb’s
up.


It’s Rach. She got the dead woman’s prints from CSU and
already pulled a result from the NCIC.’


Who is she?’


Hold that thought, Rach,’ Marquez said, moving back into the
apartment and putting the call on loudspeaker, everyone in the room
stopping what they were doing to listen. ‘You’re on
speaker.’


Her full name is Nina Lister.
Twenty
four years old, born in South-Side Pittsburgh.
Five six, a hundred and thirty pounds, former heroin addict.
Medical records say she overdosed a few years ago which left a
blackened vein on her neck.’


That’s her,’ Marquez said, the phone resting in her palm. ‘We
see the mark.’


No records of any family. She used to be a prostitute;
convicted of first degree manslaughter in San Diego when she was
sixteen. Served two years.’

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