Legacy and Redemption (27 page)

He fastened the clasp. “There’s still one more.” He handed her a small box. There was no masking the fact that it was a ring. She opened the box exposing a gold
Claddagh ring
; the heart was made of diamond chips.

She read the story of the Irish Claddagh ring that came inside the box. It explained how while it was no longer used as such today, the original Claddagh rings were used as wedding or engagement rings. The design of the ring was a heart being held by two hands with a crown atop the heart. The heart represented love, the hands friendship, and the crown loyalty. She read the last part of the story aloud. “It is said if a woman wears this ring on her hand with the point of the heart facing her fingertips; the woman is single and looking for love. If it is worn on her right hand and the point of the heart is facing her wrist her heart is spoken for.”

Cathy Quinn grabbed Keegan’s wrist and turned it over. She placed the ring in his hand and extended her own hand towards him. He smiled as he placed the ring on the ring finger of her right hand; the point of the heart facing her wrist; her heart was spoken for. She held the ring at arm’s length—a perfect fit. She gave him a full kiss on the lips. “Okay, your turn.”

After opening an assortment of designer dress shirts and matching neckties, Cathy handed him another present somewhat smaller than the previous boxes, but much heavier. Keegan opened it to reveal a shadow box display. It had a duplicate NYPD shield with his shield number and nametag below the article which had been in the newspaper comparing him to his father. The article was affixed to a dark brown mahogany backing and enclosed in glass. Keegan’s breath was momentarily taken away. It was beautiful. He pulled her close and held her tightly. “Thank you, Cathy. That may have been the best Christmas present I’ve ever received.”

She gave him a kiss on the lips. “Merry Christmas, Tim. Oh, I almost forgot. There
is
one more present.” She handed it to him. It was a small box and very light. It was no bigger than the size of a notebook. He opened it up and smiled as he removed the lacy red lingerie from the Victoria’s Secret box. He could feel himself becoming aroused as she snatched it from him. “Give me five minutes to put this on.”

“It looks like I still have one more present to open,” he said with a big smile.

Having been summoned to the Police Commissioner’s office with only days before his retirement, Castillo sat patiently in the waiting room, thumbing through the newspaper. He was much calmer and more confident than he was the last time he was waiting to see Commissioner Santoro, only a few short weeks earlier. Castillo looked at his watch, noting it was just after noon when the uniformed Inspector saw him into Santoro’s office.

Castillo strode in with hardly a limp. Being free of mind and worries had seemed to translate well into his physical condition as well. Santoro invited Castillo to help himself to a cup of coffee from the table in the corner and so Castillo did. Castillo found a certain irony in the fact that both of them were wearing tan suits with pin striping, although Castillo wore a powder blue shirt underneath and Santoro a pink one. Castillo was also fairly confident that the price of Santoro’s suit was probably double his own, as the Commissioner had a penchant for wearing only custom made designer suits.

Castillo set a case folder down on the desk in front of him as the Commissioner stared at him. Santoro wasted no time in getting down to the point of the meeting. After setting a pile of papers to the side of the desk, he began, “Where are we with Keegan and his freedom of information requests?”

Castillo took a sip of his coffee. “It’s all been taking care of, Commissioner. Keegan is satisfied with the outcome and won’t be asking any more questions.” He nodded in Santoro’s direction, with a certain confidence, if not arrogance, in the manner in which he had resolved the issue. Of course, the idea had in fact been Sharon’s, but there was no need to share this little tidbit with Santoro.

It didn’t take a first grade detective such as Castillo to detect the skepticism on Santoro’s face. His eyebrows pointed ever so slightly before he embarked on his line of questioning. “A few weeks ago, you were in here telling me that Keegan couldn’t be dissuaded; he was determined to find the truth. Now you’re telling me not to worry about it. What’s changed?”

“I told Keegan the truth…the truth that I manufactured.”

Santoro seemed to grow agitated. “Don’t play coy with me detective. I want details. I’ve already told you that I’m not going to let you or anyone else bring me down for something that I had nothing to do with. I know your papers are in, and that you’re retiring in a few days, but I can still slap you with a set of
charges and specs
and I can assure you that you’d never see a dime of your pension.”

Castillo enjoyed the position he was in. While he was never a
boss fighter
, seeing the most powerful police official in the city—maybe even the country—squirm a little bit empowered Castillo. Still, he knew better than to overplay his hand. After taking another sip of his coffee, “Keegan officially withdrew his FOIL requests. He has no interest in further pursuing this case. He is one hundred percent convinced his father was murdered by terrorists…from the Mid-East that is.”

Santoro’s voice softened as did his demeanor. “Okay, I’m listening. Tell me how you convinced him of that. I’d like to be as confident as you are, that this is a dead issue.”

Castillo would explain, “A good friend of mine, Chris Collins is a first grader in the Computer Crimes unit. I met Chris years ago when he was in Crime Scene. I’d run into him here and there on jobs and I always found him to be extremely proficient. As good as he was in Crime Scene though, his true skills were with computers. I had a friend who was a Sergeant in the unit and made a phone call for Chris. Since he’s been in computer crimes, he’s helped me time and time again by running things in ways which I never knew we could do.”

Santoro clearly wanted Castillo to cut to the chase. “Okay…so where does Keegan fit into this?”

“I’m sure you’re fully aware of all the details on the planned suicide bombings.”

After Santoro acknowledged that he was, “Do you remember how we got put onto Murad Zein—the terrorist in Chicago?”

“Al-Haq sent him an email and you guys were able to track him down through the correspondence,” Santoro correctly responded.

“Well, I explained to Keegan how we tracked Zein down, but I told him that we never really went into the details of the email. The officers who translated it didn’t deem it pertinent at the time. I told him that the only thing of relevance was the fact that at the time, it led to the second of what we would later learn to be a sleeper cell of terrorists. I showed Keegan the contents of the email and explained to him that it wasn’t until I was putting the case folder together a few days ago that I finally read the email after it had been translated into English.”

Castillo opened the case folder and handed the Police Commissioner a printed copy of an email. He read it aloud as Santoro followed.

My ghost. This is the son of the man I was telling you about.

Murad…my brother, If I get caught or killed before I complete my mission you must promise to help me avenge my loss because of Keegan. My only son died while I was in an American prison. We killed his father but that did not even the score. The son should die as well. Do your best to kill him for me if it will not interfere with the Jihad. If that is not possible, you must make him suffer; if not physically, then at least mentally. Find him and contact him. It will not be hard. He is a police officer in the sixty-seventh precinct in New York City. You can mail a letter to him at his precinct on the morning of the Jihad. By the time he receives it, we will have already struck. Come up with a plausible story and convince him that we had nothing to do with his father’s murder. Blame the murder on someone else; anyone else. He must believe you so that he goes insane with not knowing the truth. As long as Keegan suffers emotionally, my life will not have been in vain. Do this for me my brother. I beg of you. I will see you in the afterlife where we will both live reaping the rewards of Allah.

When Castillo finished reading the document, he followed Santoro’s eyes. They went directly to the date and time stamp. “It’s a perfect forgery, Commissioner. I assure you.”

Santoro seemed approving. He nodded his head, but still asked, “How did he do that? It can’t be that easy to alter an email once it was sent.”

Castillo shrugged his shoulders. “It beats the hell out of me Commissioner, but I told you he was real good at this stuff.”

Santoro seemed to contemplate things for a few moments before he spoke. “Okay, so I’ll play along. Let’s say Keegan is now one hundred percent convinced; the next problem is that you now got another person involved in your cover up. How do we know Detective Collins won’t question why you asked him to do this and reopen the same can of worms?”

Castillo offered a soothing smile. “Commissioner, I’ve known this guy for years; he’s a real stand up guy. But of course, I see your concern.”

Castillo once again opened his folder and presented Santoro with a second document. As Santoro perused it, Castillo would explain. “I also told Collins that this was a matter of national security and before I asked him to do anything, I had him sign an affidavit of confidentiality under penalty of law. He’s bound by it and can’t say a word about it.”

Santoro shook his head. “All you did was to create a bigger paper trail. He can be granted immunity and still speak if anyone ever looks into this,” Santoro dissented.

“Trust me, Commissioner,” began Castillo as he stood up and walked to the far side of Santoro’s spacious desk. Castillo held out his hand to Santoro. “May I have the affidavit back?”

Once Santoro handed it back to him, Castillo continued. “This affidavit isn’t going to be part of any case. As a matter of fact, aside from you, me, and Collins, nobody will ever see it.” Castillo inserted the affidavit into the paper shredder next to the desk. As the shredder’s soft hum commenced—destroying the affidavit, Castillo further detailed his plan. “Collins thinks he signed an affidavit. I just grabbed a blank that we have in the office. Since it’s now destroyed, nobody else will ever see it. The
real
email is in the case folder, and since that case actually
was
a matter of national security, Keegan will never be able to see that one either. He could file all of the FOIL petitions that he wants. That case folder will never cross his eyes.
You
wouldn’t even have the power to get a hold of it and
your
men worked the case.” Castillo chuckled. “They’ve already taken that one to Washington to make sure it has whatever details best fit the needs of the country inside of it…you know, like how it was a six month operation to locate and kill Sheikh Hajjar and not information that the NYPD obtained during an interrogation.”

Santoro sat in silence, clearly processing everything he had just heard. “How many copies of this email are floating around?”

“That’s the only one, Commissioner.”

Santoro set the doctored email down on his desk and stood up. He extended his hand to Castillo. Once Castillo took it, Santoro gave it a firm shake and his blessing. “You did a great job in this case, Louie; best of luck on your retirement.”

“Thank you, sir.” and with that, Castillo walked out of the Police Commissioner’s office with all loose ends tied and a clear conscious. Keegan was appeased; the Police Commissioner was satisfied, and most importantly, a huge terrorist threat had been averted without a single civilian casualty due in large part to his work. Even if the public would never know his name or his contribution to the case, knowing that his actions and investigation had saved countless lives was more than enough reward for Louis Castillo.

Timothy Keegan woke up with a start. “The walls!” he yelled, although there was nobody there to hear his exclamations. His shirt was soaked and his heart was pounding heavily against his chest. He ignored the cold sweat and immediately went for his cell phone which was plugged into a charger on his nightstand. Keegan scrolled through the numbers in his call log as he became conscious to the sound of his own breathing. Finally, finding Galvin’s number, he pressed the connect button.

*

Tommy Galvin woke up to the sound of his cell phone ringing. He glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. The large red digital numerals informed him that it was 4:47 am. Galvin got his bearings straight and got up to retrieve his phone which had now stopped ringing. The face of his android informed him that he had one missed call from Tim Keegan. Galvin enjoyed a long yawn and a stretch.

Galvin shook off the drowsiness long enough to consider whether Keegan had really been trying to call him, or if it had been an accidental ‘pocket dial’, perhaps after a night of drinking. When the phone began to ring a second time, Galvin had his answer. Galvin put the phone to his ear. “Keegan this better be good, and I sure hope you’re not trying to get out of going to the New Year’s Eve Detail tonight in Times Square.”

As Keegan spoke, Galvin could feel the goose bumps instantly invade his body. It made sense. It could be a long shot, but nonetheless, it needed to be checked out. The longer Keegan explained his hunch, the more convinced Galvin became. Galvin could now feel his heart to beat a little faster.

“Okay, Tim, I’m going to call Louie and Inspector Talbot. Obviously keep your phone nearby. I’ll get back in touch with you after they tell me how they want to proceed.” Before disconnecting the call, “If you’re right, Tim…” Galvin let the implications sink in. “…I just hope we’re not too late.”

*

Tim Keegan ran a towel over his head after he stepped out of the shower. He wiped the mist off of the bathroom mirror with the towel in a circular motion until there was a large enough spot for him to shave. He checked his cell phone which he had left on the bathroom vanity to make sure he hadn’t missed any important texts or calls while he was in the shower. He hadn’t.

Once Keegan was satisfied with his shave, he walked into his bedroom and retrieved his clothes; a pair of blue jeans and an NYPD sweatshirt. After getting dressed, he put his watch on his left wrist and noted the time as he did. It was only 6:02. He was sure by now someone would have been at the location to check out his suspicions.

Keegan paced the floor of his bedroom, anxious to receive word of what was going on. He grabbed the remote control to put on the news to see if anything was on the television. His heart momentarily skipped a beat when he saw the words
‘COP SHOT’
scroll across the bottom of the screen. He sat on the edge of his bed waiting to learn more details. While the loss of a brother officer was always a hard thing to handle, Keegan became slightly relieved when he saw that this incident had happened upstate along the New York State Thruway and had nothing to do with the case he was working on. The report said the officer was killed while conducting a car stop just after midnight near Albany. Keegan reflected on how he was taught in the Police Academy that more cops got hurt and killed in the line of duty conducting car stops than any other act they routinely conducted.

Keegan’s phone rang, monetarily startling him. He scampered back to the bathroom to answer it. A quick glance of the face of the phone revealed Cathy Quinn to be calling. While this would have normally been a call Keegan would be happy to receive, this time he was disappointed. He was hoping that it would be either Sergeant Galvin, or at least, Louie Castillo.

Regardless, he answered the call. “Hello.”

“Tim, have you heard anything else? Were you right?”

Keegan began to pace the floor as he answered. “I don’t know, Cathy. They haven’t told me anything. Sarge called back about forty-five minutes ago and said Louie was going to check it out and that Inspector Talbot said for me to stay home. He said not to forget that I have to work the New Year’s Eve detail tonight.”

“That sucks,” commented Quinn.

“Tell me about it. It’s not like I’m trying to get out of the detail. Sergeant Galvin said that he was told to stay home as well. He said if my hunch was correct, Louie would let him know, and then they would call him to come in.”

Keegan sat down on the edge of his bed and began to put on his socks as he continued. “I feel like I should be there.”

“Have you tried calling Louie? He should be there by now.”

“No. I don’t want to step on any more toes than I already did. I feel so foolish about how I acted. I mean…Cathy…I was taking the word of a terrorist over what everyone else, and common sense was telling me. Louie and Sarge probably think I’m an idiot.”

“Nobody thinks you’re an idiot, Tim.” She sounded reassuring and Keegan realized that he did in fact need somebody to be supportive of him. “You just wanted the truth, Tim. Nobody can fault you for that.”

“Thanks, Cathy.”

“I mean it…Would you like me to come over and sit with you until you hear back from somebody. Since they’re not letting you go to the scene either way, we don’t have to report to the city until noon.”

Keegan momentarily evaluated his options. “Thanks, but I’d rather stay by myself just in case they call and have a change of heart.” He took a deep breath and then added, “In my gut, I know that I’m right.”

“I believe you, Tim. I’m just praying that you’re wrong.”