John Steel Collection - Books 1-3

Chapter 13

Driving her faded blue ‘66 Mustang, Detective Samantha McCall headed to the 11th Precinct. McCall was used to stabbings or shootings. She wondered whose body was at the bottom of the alleyway and why the killer had done such a terrible thing to the poor woman. Sure, there had been body drops before, but none like this. This was just–evil.

After examining the crime scene, Sam McCall knew she’d be spending the rest of the day looking through missing person files while everyone else did the canvas. She had to admit the door-to-door thing wasn’t her best part of the job. Mostly because nobody ever saw anything.

McCall turned onto hoped that Tina Franks, the Medical Examiner, had come up with something.

The traffic was heavy along 2nd Avenue, causing McCall to tap the steering wheel impatiently. Never a good combination in her view. She had things to do, and she was hungry.

McCall eased onto 1st Avenue and headed North. The traffic had eased up here, giving her a chance to make up some time.

It took McCall a good twenty minutes to get back to the 11th precinct. She parked in the secure garage over the road from the precinct. She knew she could have parked in the deep parking lot under the precinct, but for some reason, she never did. The truth was she had done it for so long that it was now just habit.

McCall parked in her usual spot and slid out of the driver"s side. McCall locked it and then headed for the entrance to the lot. Inside a small booth was an old guy. They exchanged waves, and he went back to his paper, and McCall headed for the precinct entrance.

The 11th precinct was an old building. Built in the thirties and renovated in the eighties.

The white walls were now a light grey. The stairs were made from concrete and covered with battleship grey vinyl. The flooring on each level had the same vinyl flooring and the same off-white walls.

Inside, McCall took the elevator up to the third floor. This was the Homicide department of the 11th.

The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open. The silence of the small metal box was suddenly broken by the noise of telephones, shouting, and the tap-tap-tap of keyboards.

The bullpen of the department was made up of desks. One desk sat opposite another. This created a one big desk effect.

Sam looked over at her desk and the coffee mug between the monitor and keyboard.

McCall’s desk sat by itself at the edge of the square of the bullpen, facing inwards, opposite Tooms and Tony’s desks. They often worked together when required, but most of the caseload was an individual effort. One case, one detective. But not this one.

This was a big case. One that had already gotten the media animals hungry for a story.

McCall felt that this wasn’t going to be a random event. Instead, this would become serial, or worse still– it already was, and nobody had picked up yet.

McCall sauntered over to her desk and picked up her coffee mug.

It was old and worn; the NYPD badge was faded and scratched, but it was her favourite mug, and it still had some years left in it.

Sam McCall headed for the break room. Inside were several chairs and a table, but more importantly, the coffee machines on a long worktop.

McCall filled the mug full of the strong, dark liquid. The smell of the fresh coffee was pungent, causing her to wince as it filled her nostrils.

As she headed back to her desk, McCall headed towards Tooms and Tony.

‘What’s up gal’s,’ McCall joked.

Tooms turned in his chair, and a broad smile crossed his dark face. ‘Hey ya, Sammy. I heard you had some excitement in the alley?’

‘Yeah, just some whack job looking for souvenirs, probably. Creepy bastard,’ McCall said.

‘Sure, it wasn’t a ghost. I hear that alley is haunted or something?’ Tony mocked.

‘Yeah, nice try, Tony. You know the only spirits I believe in or in my drinks cabinet,’ McCall laughed.

Tooms laughed and punched Tony gently on the arm.

‘So, has Tina gotten back to us yet?’ McCall said. Her tone was now all business.

‘Nah, not yet. Missing persons came up a bust too,’ Tooms said with a shrug.

McCall nodded slowly and took a sip from the coffee.

‘I’ll check CODIS; if she’s in there, I’ll check military and law enforcement,’ McCall said.

‘Canvas was a bust as well. But, as usual, nobody saw nothin,’ Tony said and took a sip from his water bottle.

‘Figures,’ Sam McCall said, shaking her head. Then she turned and headed back to her desk.

McCall hated this part: sitting down and searching databases, making phone calls and sifting through files. She wanted to be out on the street, but this was how investigations happened. Not like the movies or tv.

Samantha McCall sat and stared at the screen, trying to work up the enthusiasm of losing half a day at her desk. Finally, she typed in a search engine and got the site she needed. Now the search would begin.

* * *

Meanwhile, In his loft, Steel was doing a web search. He had received a tip from one of his informants of a loan shark in Little Italy. A man called Vinny Carbone. Vinny did the occasional deal, which included weapons and girls and drugs. However, the word was that Vinny also had ties with Santini and the organisation.

Since his arrival, John Steel had laid low, not letting on about his interest in the organisation and Santini. But Steel figured it was time to make a move.

Steel had bought property that he had turned into bunkers and safe houses.

At first, he was willing to stay under the radar, but this murder in the alley and also chatter of a massive arms deal had changed everything. London had agreed, so the timetable for his assimilation into the NYPD was to be stepped up. The people in Whitehall had plans for Steel to go into 1PP.

Still, Steel insisted the 11th precinct would be better suited due to the recent murder. He had also named detective Sam McCall, hoping that if London and the MI8 division approved it, Steel and McCall might work together, and London had agreed. This murder was the perfect excuse. How and why Steel would be joining them was down to the CO to arrange.

Steel looked at the massive forty-inch monitor that displayed the Vinny file, then leaned back in his chair and took a sip from a mug of coffee. The aroma of the expensive Jamaican blend filled the air.

Getting an introduction to this man would not be easy, but Steel could always just drop in and introduce himself. After all, it was only polite.

* * *

When Sam McCall and the others called it a day, it was six o"clock. CODIS was still searching, and so were the military databases.

Tooms had gone home to his family, and Tony had gone back to his ballgame and tv dinner.

Sam McCall. Well. She had a date with a bottle of fine wine, a bath, and an old movie.