Tracking Shot Colin Campbell (best color ereader TXT) 📖

McNulty shook his head. “No. It brings us back to you. Police secured the area. They recorded and vouchered any evidence found at the scene. If anybody’s got that camera, it’s the Waltham Police Department.”

Harris drummed his fingers on the desk. He took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. When he let it out he stopped drumming. “The camera wasn’t vouchered.” He tapped the sketch plan with one finger. “It wasn’t there when we cleared the casualties and logged the evidence.”

His finger followed the escape route the witnesses had taken. “The only people who knew what was on that film. Or could hazard a guess.” He walked his fingers across the sketch plan. “Was the guy that shot it…” Then he pointed at McNulty. “…and an ex-cop running damage control for Titanic Productions.”

McNulty leaned back in his chair. He still hadn’t been searched and read his rights. He still hadn’t been arrested. So this was still exploratory, not definitive. He jerked a thumb through the window in the general direction of the Crescent Motel. “It wasn’t my room that got burgled by someone looking for the film.”

Harris shrugged. “Unless it was you doing the burgling.”

McNulty sighed. It was time to put an end to this charade. “The burglar jumped off the balcony. Your cop saw him. Along with half the pleasure boat crew and all the passengers.”

Harris looked at the technical adviser and gave a sad little smile. “Did I tell you about Judge Reynolds?” The smile got a little broader. “The guy your judge was a dead ringer for?”

The Detectives Bureau went quiet. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. McNulty waited for the other boot to drop. Patrol cars came and went from the parking lot out back. Farther along Lexington Street a distinctive chorus of air horns sounded as Ladder 2 and Engine 1 deployed from the Waltham Fire Department. There were no accompanying police sirens; this must be a straight-up Fire Department shout. A helicopter thudded overhead and followed the air horns, the 7 News or Fox 25 News chopper chasing a story perhaps.

The story in here was about to get a whole lot muddier. Or clearer. Depending on your perspective. From McNulty’s point of view it didn’t sound like Harris was going to make life easier. The detective turned his chair sideways and stretched out his legs.

“He’s our senior judge. Second District Court of Eastern Middlesex. Sits on all the big cases. One he’s covering now is right up your street. Pornography ring. Child abuse.” He sat up and looked at McNulty as if something had just occurred to him. “You’ve had experience with that kind of thing, haven’t you?” He raised his eyebrows. “Back in the U-K.”

It was a rhetorical question. McNulty knew Harris would have checked his records at the West Yorkshire Police. Undercover Vice Squad when he was on the force. His infiltration of the Northern X child sex ring after he’d been kicked out. The case that gave him enough kudos to approve a move to America and a job with the Savage PD. Before losing that job there as well and starting work for Larry Unger.

“Same sort of deal here. Vulnerable children. Abuse of authority. Local institutions. High-profile case. Lots of ramifications. Money. Power. Could even impact on the Sheriff election.” Harris waved all that aside. “Anyway. Puts a bullseye on him as a potential target. For this shooting. Icing on the cake being the orphanage under investigation for the very case your judge could have been sitting on. If he’d been Judge Reynolds.”

There still wasn’t a question in there so McNulty waited for Harris to get to the point. He didn’t have to wait long.

“So what I’m getting at. One of the few people with some idea what the second camera might be filming.” He pointed at McNulty. “You.” Then he settled back into storytelling mode. “That person, who can help point us in the right direction. He has ties to the orphanage that brought his sister to America and is working for the movie company that stands to lose out if publicity links it to the pornography ring.”

He stopped and took a deep breath. He let it out slow and even, never taking his eyes off McNulty. When his lungs were empty he breathed normally again. The look in his eyes was all business. “Larry Unger started out in pornography didn’t he?”

THIRTEEN

“You told him about the missing camera?”

McNulty shrugged. “It was that or cop for screwing the first A-Cs motel room.”

Larry looked at his technical adviser. “Cop for screwing?” He threw up his hands. “You’re gonna have to start talking English.”

McNulty had joined the head of Titanic Productions at Bertucci’s Italian Restaurant at the end of a narrow strip mall beside the I-95 cloverleaf on Winter Street, halfway back from the location at Cambridge Reservoir. It was either Bertucci’s or The Green Papaya, but McNulty didn’t like Thai food. Pizza was universal. Even the Germans liked pizza. It was late afternoon and traffic on the interstate was picking up. McNulty ignored the cars whizzing past the off-ramp. “We’ve got bigger problems than language.”

He toyed with the glass of iced water he’d been given while they waited for the pizza. “How come you picked an actor for the judge who looks exactly like the District Court judge down the road?”

Larry took a sip of his ice water. His mouth always felt dry when McNulty used this tone of voice. “Same reason the set looked exactly like the District Court. Authenticity.”

McNulty gave Larry a disbelieving look. “You don’t do authentic.” He pushed his glass to one side and leaned forward. “But you do see cheap publicity.”

Larry tried to look innocent but it wasn’t in his repertoire. “Publicity?”

McNulty hardened his stare. “And a little payback.”

Larry was better at feigning lack of understanding. “Now you’ve lost me.”

McNulty scrutinised Larry’s face, looking for signs of the lie. “You