The Hunter’s Oath Read online

  ‘Right,’ Tony said, moving the mouse around. ‘My brother set it all up for me. I wipe it every fortnight and then start over, but that’s not for another couple of days yet.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Okay, let’s see what we got here.’

  Bishop came and stood next to Gerry as Tony opened up a folder. He moved the cursor down a short list of files and finally clicked on the third one from the end. The Windows Media Player opened and soon the screen was filled with a monochrome shot of the forecourt at night. There was no sound. The resolution wasn’t exactly high-definition quality, but it still looked pretty good to Bishop.

  The time code in the corner gave yesterday’s date. The time was 21.32.28.

  ‘We want from about eleven thirty p.m. onwards,’ Bishop said.

  ‘Gotcha.’ Tony dragged the playhead across until it was close to the end and let it play. The time on the screen now read 23.27.09. The forecourt was empty. ‘Don’t get too much business this time of night except at weekends,’ Tony said. ‘Want me to fast forward?’

  ‘Sure,’ Bishop said.

  Tony pressed the fast-forward button and Bishop watched the time code speed up. Minutes began to pass. Taillights and headlights whizzed by on the street outside. The occasional light blinked out in a distant apartment block. Then a vehicle suddenly zipped into the forecourt and jerked to a stop next to the first pump.

  ‘Well, hello,’ Tony said, and immediately pressed rewind until the car reversed out. He pressed play and then sat back.

  Bishop looked at the time in the corner. 23.32.07. Three seconds later, the car pulled into the forecourt again and stopped. Bishop saw it was a light-coloured Ford. Possibly grey or silver. It looked like an older model Taurus. Late nineties, maybe. Pre-2001, anyway, since the licence plate was made up of three letters followed by three numbers. After 2001, New York began issuing plates with a three letter, four number format.

  Except the last number wasn’t too clear. It looked like an eight or a nine, but a splash of something dark obscured the lower part. Probably mud. He watched as a stocky man in a hooded sweatshirt got out the driver’s side and went over to the dispenser. For a brief second, Bishop saw a thin goatee, but no other facial features. The hood kept them mostly hidden in shadow. The man pulled some bills from his pocket, fed them into the payment slot at the dispenser and pulled the pump out. He unlocked the fuel cap and inserted the pump, keeping his head turned towards the dispenser as he filled the tank.

  Bishop turned his attention to the car. With the forecourt lights reflecting off the windshield, it was that much harder to see inside, but he could just about make out another figure in the passenger seat, plus a third sitting in the back. The car was also swaying slightly from side to side, as though the passengers were rocking along to something playing on the stereo.

  Then the man pulled the pump out and replaced it on the dispenser. He locked the fuel cap, then walked around to the driver’s side and got in and shut the door. The headlights came back on. The car started moving and soon the vehicle went out of shot. It was 23.35.49.

  ‘So what do you think?’ Tony asked.

  ‘It was them all right,’ Gerry said, his voice loud in the small room. ‘You could see the other two partying like it was a regular night on the town. And after what they’d just done. Bastards.’

  ‘It’s a little too soon to jump to conclusions,’ Bishop said. ‘Play it to the end, will you, Tony? I want to be sure nobody else comes along who fits the bill.’

  Tony did as asked. But the only other customers were a businessman in a black SUV at 23.46, and a female driver in a new Mustang who came in just before midnight.

  Bishop said, ‘You able to burn DVDs on this thing? I’d like a copy of this.’

  ‘Uh uh,’ Tony said. ‘I can burn CDs, but that’ll only give you about a minute’s worth, and I don’t know how to split up the footage. And I got no blank CDs either.’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ Gerry said, and reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his keys. He went through them, then peeled a specific one off the ring and handed it to Bishop.

  Bishop looked down at it. It almost looked like a key. It had the same metal finish. But there were no teeth, and the blade ended in a USB connector. Bishop slowly shook his head, amazed at what you could fit on a key ring these days. After spending three years behind bars for another man’s crime he sometimes felt technology had left him behind. Which was only natural, he guessed. Nowadays everything was getting faster and smaller and he either had to accept it or go live in the mountains. He’d always been old-school when it came to his personal equipment, though. On his own key ring, for example, he kept a miniature Swiss Army multi-tool. It was flightsafe, which meant no blade or scissors, but it had still come in useful more times than he could remember.

  ‘How much space is on this?’ Bishop asked.

  ‘Sixteen gigs. There’s nothing else on there right now except maybe a few old Word documents.’

  ‘That should be enough,’ Bishop said. ‘You mind, Tony?’

  ‘Sure,’ he said, and got off the chair. Bishop took his place and inserted the flash drive into the back of the black box. He dragged the movie file and dropped it onto the external hard drive icon. A progress bar told him the transfer would be done in less than a minute.

  ‘Did I see a coffee machine out there by the entrance door?’ Bishop asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ Tony said. ‘It’s pretty good, too. And only a dollar a cup.’

  ‘Gerry, get me some, will you? And make it strong and black. I need something to keep me from passing out. I’ll be with you once this is finished.’

  Gerry shrugged, said, ‘Okay,’ and left, closing the door behind him.

  Bishop looked up at Tony. ‘You said you empty this drive every fortnight?’

  ‘That’s right. Planning to do it the day after tomorrow.’

  ‘How would you feel about bringing it forward a couple of days?’

  Tony brought his brows together. ‘What, wipe it now? And what if the cops show up later wanting to see it?’

  ‘They’re not likely to, but if they do just tell them the truth. That you wipe the drive clean on a regular basis and they’re too late.’

  ‘Yeah, but why?’

  The progress bar disappeared. Bishop pulled the flash drive from the slot and got to his feet. ‘I’ve just given you two hundred reasons why.’

  Tony snorted and said, ‘Can’t argue with that kind of logic, can I?’

  Then he sat down and began deleting the files.

  TWELVE

  Bishop took a sip of the hot coffee and sat on one end of the park bench. Gerry sat at the other and drank some of his. They were the only visitors in the small triangular-shaped residential park area they’d passed earlier. Trees concealed them from the streets on all three sides and even filtered out some of the noise.

  The coffee wasn’t likely to win any awards, but it wasn’t bad. And it was strong. Which was exactly what Bishop needed right now. It was almost half past one and he realized he hadn’t slept in over thirty hours. And probably wouldn’t for a long while yet. But the caffeine would help keep him going for now. That and constant forward motion.

  But mostly it was the knowledge that he was getting closer to finding these animals. And when he did find them, he had definite plans for all three. He’d been thinking about it all morning. About how he wasn’t going to kill them. That would be too easy. No, Willard’s little speech to Foland last night had given him the idea. He knew from personal experience that prison life was almost a hell on earth, and he wanted these three to get the full effect. A lifetime’s worth. But even if he managed to link them to Amy’s rape and mugging, they’d still only end up serving a few years inside. And that wasn’t nearly enough. Which meant he’d have to set them up for something worse. Either individually or as a group, it didn’t matter. But the thought of framing them for a crime that would guarantee they’d never see daylight again was something that really appealed to Bish
op. Especially as the same thing had happened to him a while back.

  What goes around comes around.

  Gerry said, ‘So will you be able to track down that licence plate?’

  Bishop emerged from his thoughts. ‘Maybe.’

  He pulled out his cell and began scrolling through his contact list until he got to Raymond Massingham. Bishop had met him some months ago in Saracen, Arizona. The guy had a computer repair shop there. He was also able to access information generally unavailable to the public, often through unauthorized back doors passed on to him by like-minded friends.

  Bishop pressed the call button. A few seconds later a voice said, ‘Yeah?’

  ‘This is Bishop. You remember me?’

  Raymond made a low chuckling sound. ‘You kidding me? How could I forget? Five months after the fact and people are still talking about what went down here. So how’s things back east?’

  ‘Things could be better. Look, I need a small favour.’

  ‘Ha. Never were one for chewing the fat, were you, Bishop? How small?’

  ‘I’ve got most of a licence plate and I’d like a name and address to go with it. And I seem to recall you had a special relationship with the dedicated servers at the DMV.’

  ‘Yeah, well, you know what they say, “Servers don’t change, only people.” I can sure give it a try. Hit me.’

  Bishop gave him the first five digits and said, ‘The last number was partly obscured, but it’s either an eight or a nine. And the sooner the better.’

  ‘Yeah, I kind of guessed that. Okay, let me work and I’ll call you back in three.’

  Bishop ended the call and placed the cell phone between them on the bench. He smoothed out the heavy creases in his pants, took another sip of coffee and said, ‘Okay, I think now would be a good time for us to part ways.’

  Gerry turned to him. ‘Hey, wait a minute, back at that deli you said I could come along.’

  ‘And you did. Now you need to go back to the hospital.’

  ‘Hey, don’t shut me out yet, Bishop. Come on.’

  Bishop stared up at the sky. Back at the deli he’d felt sorry for the guy, but he was already regretting bringing Gerry along. Even part of the way. It had been a mistake. Especially as he looked to be getting close to locating his quarry.

  He turned to his brother-in-law. ‘What do you think’s going to happen when I finally catch up with these men?’

  ‘You’ll . . .’ Gerry frowned at the grass. ‘Well, you’ll deal with them.’

  ‘Deal with them. Okay. And how am I going to deal with them?’

  Gerry made an impatient rotating gesture with his free hand. ‘You’ll . . . Are you going to make me say it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Okay. You’ll kill them.’

  ‘What, like Charles Bronson, you mean?’

  Gerry winced. ‘No, I don’t mean that. But you’re not—’

  ‘Even assuming that’s the case,’ Bishop interrupted, ‘how do you think Amy would react if she ever found out I took you along? She’s already accepted me as a lost cause, but you’re the father of her children and I assume the love of her life. You think she’d ever forgive me for involving you in a personal vendetta? Because if you do, you don’t know her as well as I thought.’

  ‘Believe me,’ Gerry said, ‘I know full well how Amy would react, but right now she’s somewhere I can’t even reach her. And the men who caused it are treating the whole thing like it was just another night on the town. They’re animals, Bishop. You know they are. I just need to know that at least we’re on the right track and getting somewhere. Just for my own peace of mind. After that I’ll let you get on with it and leave you alone. I swear.’

  Bishop drank down the rest of the coffee. This was getting them nowhere. And no amount of arguing could change the fact. Gerry wasn’t coming. It was that simple.

  The cell phone started ringing. Gerry reached it first and put it on speaker. Bishop shrugged and said, ‘Any luck?’

  Raymond said, ‘Hey, luck’s for the other guys, right? Okay, we’ve got two results. Both Fords. The one with the eight at the end is for a Discovery, first registered back in . . .’

  ‘That’s not it,’ Bishop said. ‘The other one. Is it a Taurus, by any chance?’

  ‘Ker-ching. You notice how I don’t even ask how you knew that? Don’t suppose you wanna take a guess at the owner’s zip code, too?’

  Bishop already had a pretty good idea. According to the time code, the car had pulled into the filling station at 23.32, only two minutes after Everson had spotted them leaving the scene. Which made it a good bet that Tony’s place had been the first place they’d tried. So if they were heading in a northerly direction that meant only one destination.

  ‘The Bronx.’

  Ray let out a bark of laughter. ‘You ever wanna play the tables in Vegas, just let me know, huh? Yeah, Co-op City, to be exact. Vehicle is registered to a Pablo Whelan, whose abode is apartment 1902 in building 30A, Section 5. How’s that for service?’

  ‘Pretty good. I appreciate it, Raymond.’

  ‘Sure. So if I were to ask what’s the hell’s going on, would I be wasting my breath?’

  ‘Yeah, but you already knew that. Thanks. We’ll talk again.’

  ‘When you need another favour, I expect. Be good.’

  Bishop ended the call and pocketed the cell phone. He turned to Gerry and said, ‘Well, that’s it.’

  ‘Right,’ Gerry said, ‘let’s go find a cab.’

  Bishop stood up with his eyes narrowed. ‘Forget it. This is where we part, remember?’

  Gerry shook his head. ‘Sorry, Bishop, but I need to see one of them in the flesh first. Just to be able to look into his eyes. That’s all. I’m sure you understand.’

  ‘I said forget it. You’re not coming.’

  ‘In that case, I have to make a call.’ Gerry reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a card along with his Samsung. Bishop could see the card was a duplicate of the one Medrano had given him. Gerry began pressing numbers on the phone.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Updating Detective Medrano on what we’ve found out so far, including this Whelan’s address. I’ll also tell him about Tony, so he can view the same footage we saw.’

  Bishop didn’t need this. Not now. ‘Trying to call my bluff, Gerry? Is that it?’

  ‘No bluff, Bishop. If I don’t go, then we leave everything in the hands of the police.’ He keyed in two more numbers.

  ‘That phone looks expensive. Don’t force me to break it.’

  ‘If you do, I’ll just use a pay phone.’

  Gerry pressed another three numbers, then Bishop heard a ringing tone. Soon a familiar voice said, ‘Detective Medrano. Who’s this?’

  ‘Hello, detective. It’s Gerry Philmore.’

  ‘Oh, right. Yeah. So what can I do for you, Mr Philmore?’

  Gerry looked up at Bishop without expression. Waiting.

  ‘Mr Philmore?’ Medrano repeated. ‘You there?’

  Bishop knew he’d already lost. The stupid bastard would do it. He’d give the cops everything if he didn’t get what he wanted. He was that self-centred. And Bishop could do nothing to stop him. Except one thing. Bishop sighed, then gave a small nod of his head.

  Gerry nodded back and said, ‘Just wanted to see if you’d progressed any since this morning, detective.’

  ‘Look, Mr Philmore,’ Medrano said, with a hint of impatience. ‘I told you we’d keep you updated, but I also got a full caseload to deal with, so I can’t be giving you reports on an hourly basis. That’s not why I gave you my card. Now, when your wife regains consciousness, you give me a call. But until then I need you to let me do my job, okay?’

  ‘Sure, I understand, detective. Sorry to bother you.’ Gerry closed the connection and pocketed the phone. ‘Sorry, Bishop, but I really need this.’

  ‘You don’t know what you need right now,’ Bishop said. ‘But no more games, understand? You get one look at t
his Whelan and then you go home. Because if you try pushing me into a corner again, you’ll lose. That much I can guarantee. Do you believe me?’

  ‘I believe you. So now we get a cab?’

  ‘Not just yet,’ Bishop said. ‘I need to buy a few things first.’

  THIRTEEN

  Situated west of the Hutchinson River at the north-eastern tip of the Bronx, Co-op City wasn’t exactly a place you visited unless you had to. But Bishop guessed it wasn’t supposed to be. It was a public housing development, after all. One of the largest in the world, with its own public safety department, its own power plant, and two weekly newspapers. And more besides.

  They were heading south along Hutchinson River Parkway East when the Indian cab driver pointed at the vast, chevron-style building to their left. ‘Building 30, guys,’ he said.

  ‘Anywhere along here,’ Bishop said.

  The driver pulled in and Bishop and Gerry got out. The driver had agreed to keep the meter running rather than look around for another fare to carry back to Manhattan. Gerry wouldn’t be staying long. If Whelan was here, he’d get his one look at the man and then go home, like he’d promised. And if Whelan wasn’t home, the deal still stood.

  Bishop looked up at the 26-storey high-rise. This one was almost as wide as it was tall, covering almost half a block. It wasn’t pretty. But that was sixties architecture for you. He turned to Gerry. ‘Remember what we agreed?’

  ‘I remember. Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise.’

  Bishop wasn’t sure he believed him. But they crossed the quiet street and walked down the concrete path onto the property without another word. Bishop looked through the concrete pillars that took up much of the ground floor, saw a set of double doors to the left and went that way. He spotted half a dozen bored teenage males standing around and smoking up ahead. They stopped talking and stared at Bishop and Gerry as they approached.

  ‘Need somethin’ to take the edge off, m’man?’ one of them called over. ‘Smokes? Candy? ’Cause if we ain’t got it, we can get it.’