Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #1: Books 1-4 (A Dead Cold Box Set) Blake Banner (love books to read .TXT) 📖

“My point is that if Hagan was involved, we were looking at a very well organized criminal operation involving child prostitution, one that was probably still operational.”

“Okay…”

“But if he wasn’t involved, we were looking at Father O’Neil, an incompetent fool, we were looking at Mick Harragan, who relied on violence, terror and low cunning, but didn’t have a fraction of Hagan’s intelligence—and in any case has been dead for the last ten years—we were looking at a businessman and a bishop, both of whom were dabbling, and ‘H’, all three of whom needed to remain as uninvolved as possible. A very different proposition, Dehan, a small group of sick pedophiles, with no competent organizer at the head.”

“So you confronted Conor to see how he would react.”

I turned off West 230th onto the Deegan Expressway and began to accelerate.

“I was pretty sure by then that Hagan was not involved, but I needed to be sure.”

“Did he kill father O’Neil?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Why would he?”

“But you must have been aware of the risk that Hagan would come after Sadiq!”

I frowned at her. “Dehan, I need you to think this through. This gang of pedophiles, who were prepared to murder fourteen young girls to conceal their crime, cheated one of the most dangerous men in New York, one of the most dangerous gangs in the country. He donated money, probably tens of thousand of dollars, to the care and education of these girls, and they used that money to enslave, rape, and murder them. And you think that it was my actions that put Sadiq at risk.” She turned away from me and stared straight ahead at the expressway without answering. After a bit, I glanced at her. “I have never lied to you, Dehan, and I never will. So I have to say to you that, in the first place, I don’t think it was my actions that put him and his family at risk, I think it was his actions. And in the second place, if it was, I don’t honestly give a good goddamn. He had it coming.”

She didn’t talk again until we were approaching the junction with the Cross Bronx Expressway.

“Just tell me this, Stone, did you deliberately have him executed?”

She watched my face as I answered. “No, but I knew Hagan might. I weighed it up, Dehan. In the end, I followed the investigation in the way I had to and Sadiq had to face the consequences of his own actions.”

The second call came as we were approaching the 43rd. I put it on speaker and laid it on the dash.

“Stone.”

“Detective Stone, I believe you have been trying to contact me.” The voice was cultured, and supremely arrogant. “This is Bishop Robert Bellini.”

I waited a beat, and then asked him, “Can you speak freely, Bishop?”

“Yes, I am alone.”

“Good, are you back in the States?”

“Why don’t you tell me what it is you want, Detective?”

“You heard that Father O’Neil was murdered.”

“So I am told.”

“Were you also told that Sadiq Khan has been murdered, too?” He didn’t answer. I gave him a minute and went on. “Were you also told that the bodies of the girls have been dug up from the churchyard? I tell you, Bellini, you step out of the country for a couple of days and all hell breaks loose.”

I waited, but he still didn’t speak.

“You don’t want to talk to me, Bellini, that’s fine.”

I reached out to hang up and his voice, rich with contempt, said, “What do you want, Stone?”

“People keep asking me that these days. What do I want? I want to see you in person and talk to you.”

“What for?”

“Well, you see, I figure we can do this one of two ways. I can be Detective John Stone, the ruthless, unrelenting investigator who always gets his man, or I can be a friend to you and to the Church.”

“What makes you think I need a friend?”

I sighed loudly. “I haven’t got time to fuck around playing your stupid games, Bishop. Call me when you’re ready to talk sense.”

I reached over and hung up. I pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine. Dehan was staring at me with no expression. I counted to nine and the phone rang.

“Stone.”

“I need a little more than your words.”

“You, Mick Harragan, Sadiq Khan, and…” I paused. “Let’s just call him ‘H’ while we’re on the phone. O’Neil made a full confession. I am sitting on that confession for now. But on the strength of it, I dug up the churchyard. We’ve found the bodies of fourteen young girls; we also found photographs that Sean O’Conor was holding, of the twelve girls who made up the first class that Alicia was going to teach. Father O’Neil identified the girls… Shall I carry on, or is that enough for now?”

“It’s enough.”

“Listen to me, you piece of shit. Mick Harragan was your friend. Now I am your friend, you understand me? The big difference is that Mick was stupid and I am not. Now, if you play your cards right, we can make this profitable, and a lot of fun for everybody involved. Play them wrong, Bellini, and I will hit you so hard your fucking head will be spinning for a week.”

“Very well, you are my friend. Now what?”

“We meet.”

“Where and when?”

“In your office. I don’t want to be seen with you in public. I have legitimate reason to come and see you to discuss Father O’Neil. When are you back?”

He sighed. “I am at the airport now.”

I felt a sudden wave of disgust. “I had a feeling you might be. I’ll see you this afternoon, at four. And Bellini?”

“What?”

“I want you to think