It was dark as Sean Mirage stepped onto attorney Denny Morrow’s front porch. For once Mirage was not in uniform and he had a slouch hat pulled down over his face. Morrow’s house had neighbors too close to flaunt his presence. Mirage carried a plastic shopping bag in either hand.
Morrow had been watching for him and opened the door as Mirage’s foot hit the top step. There were no lights on in the house to betray Mirage’s presence.
"C’mon in, Sean." Morrow said, moving rapidly toward the front of the porch. He cast quick glances up and down the street, then turned and followed Mirage into the house.
"Surely you don’t think I’d be stupid enough to let myself be followed." It was a challenge as well as a comment. "Give me a little more credit than that."
"That’s not it," Morrow assured him. "There have been a couple of strange cars around the neighborhood lately, and I wanted to make sure they aren’t out there now. What with all the problems of the last couple of months, you can’t be too careful."
"Yeah, I guess you’re right. We’ve had everything going our way for so long we have gotten a bit careless about watching our backsides.
Anyway, here’s the stuff. There’s not much of it this time. All I’ve got is about two pounds of grass and a couple of bags of coke, plus a few odds and ends pills."
"That is a small batch."
"I’ve still got a bunch of cases pending, so I couldn’t ‘destroy’ the evidence yet, but I couldn’t leave this laying around much longer without questions being asked."
"All right. Since you’ve already got it in your hands, why don’t you take it on down? Oh! That’s right! I forgot you’ve never been in the cave, have you?"
"No."
"Well, follow me and I’ll give you the two-bit tour. I’ll have to make it a quick one, though. I’ve got to go to a party in a few minutes."
"I was wondering if you sat around the house dressed like that." Mirage followed him into the basement. Once there, Morrow moved to a stack of shelves, which he swung away from the wall to reveal a doorway with another set of stairs leading downward.
Hitting a light switch, Morrow went down the steps to a tunnel, then turned right and followed it for fifty feet. Mirage gasped as he exited the tunnel. Stretched before him was a cave nearly half a mile long and a quarter of a mile wide. The far end of it was well lighted and in the center was a steel building of good size. To the right of the building were several mounds which, as they approached, proved to be tarpaulins covering other objects.
"The boxes you see piled by the building are small weapons, mostly Uzis and Mac 10’s. The piles just away from the building are ammunition." He walked to one of the large mounds and threw back the tarpaulin to reveal a 105mm Jeep mount howitzer. Mirage whistled in astonishment.
"I didn’t realize we were into anything this big."
"Oh, yeah. We had a shipment of SAMs come through last month. Took less than a week to move them." He waved his arm in a circle. "This is some place, isn’t it?"
"Yeah. I would never have believed it. And right under the city! What are the tunnels leading off all around?"
"Portsmouth was a major stop on the Underground Railroad during the Civil War. They used the tunnels to move and hide runaway slaves. We’ve managed to have them condemned to keep people out of them."
"How do you get all the electricity?"
Morrow laughed. "We steal it." He laughed again at the puzzled look on Mirage’s face. "I’m not joking. We tapped into the electric company’s underground line. That way it just looks like a minor leak too inexpensive to fix instead of showing up on someone’s electric bill. We can also run a generator if we have to."
"How did you get something the size of these guns down here?"
"Gary Martin owns the building supply sitting right over the far end of the cave. We just reworked his freight elevator. No big problem. It also gives us cover for trucks moving stuff in and out in the middle of the night. Come on in here." They moved into the building. Once inside the door Mirage saw the building was cut into half by a wall. On one side was a warehouse with piles of drugs on pallets stacked all over it. Some were loaded with plastic bags of what had to be marijuana, while others were full of white powder Mirage assumed to be cocaine. There were also a large number of pallets containing commercially marked cartons.
"Is that the stuff that was hijacked from that pharmaceutical truck last month?"
"Yeah. We didn’t make the hit, though. We got a real good offer on it, so we jumped. Just lay that stuff down anywhere. Someone will take care of it in the morning. Let me show you the lab." Morrow led him to a door in the wall. There was a red light above it, but it was dark at the moment.
"It’s safe now. Come on in." Mirage followed him into a well-equipped and supplied laboratory. "We can process several hundred pounds of crack a day here. This set-up also allows us to buy pure coke and step on it ourselves. We can also manufacture LSD or about anything else we want to go with." After Mirage had looked around for a few minutes, Morrow spoke again.
"Well, I’ve got to move on. I’m expected elsewhere."
"This place is just totally unbelievable," Mirage said as they walked back toward Morrow’s house. "I really though Joe was joking when he told me about it."
"Not at all. And it’s as safe as you can get. We’ve even given refuge to a couple of pretty big names over the past couple of years. Big, safe and versatile. Everything you could want.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Steele and Kerry Monroe sat on the uncomfortable, straight-backed chairs provided by the hospital to discourage visitors from staying too long. Bobby Bowman lay in the bed before them, still haggard from his experience. The weakness and pain showing in his face were plainly from more than just the physical ordeal. The lump under the sheets that was his body ended on the left side just below his hand, which lay atop the cover. His left leg had been blown off just above the knee and it had been necessary to trim away even more.
Elaine had been considerably less fortunate. The force of the explosion had thrust her up and into the steering wheel with such power that the entire steering shaft had been broken off, allowing the remaining shards to pierce her body. She was dead even before her head collided with the windshield.
"We understand that you’re still very weak, so we’ll be as brief as possible." Monroe told him. "Do you want to go into the witness program now?"
Bobby glared at them for a moment. "For what?" Steele could not be sure if the stare was from anger or a simple effort to recognize them through the haze of medication. "I did this to myself."
"Well, we did offer to put you in the program."
"That’s not what I mean. I tried to commit suicide. I’m the one who put the bomb there."
"Then this wasn’t an attempt to silence you as a witness?"
"Why would anyone do that" Everything I told the guy in Cincinnati was a lie." He turned his head away from them for a moment to regain his self-control. He managed to keep the sobs silent, but he could not hide the heaving of his body. When he turned back to them there were still tears in his eyes. "I was just upset about Billy being killed and wanted to get revenge on someone, so I told Partlow what he wanted to hear, all right? I figured if I killed myself it would just make it look like I was telling the truth because someone tried to kill me. I’d been thinking about suicide anyway, and it seemed like a good way to do it and get even for Billy."
Steele fought to keep the smile from his face. "You realize that if this is true I’ll have to charge you with murder?"
"Go ahead. Do what you gotta do. It doesn’t matter to me any more. I really didn’t want Elaine to die with me, but stuff happens, right?" Once again he turned away from them and sobs wracked his body. This time, however, he could not maintain silence. "Just do what you gotta do and get outta here. Leave me alone."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Joe, this is Griff Smith," he said into the phone. "I’ve just gotten the press release on the Bowman case and it doesn’t seem to make a lick of sense. What’s going on here?"
"Just what it says, Griff." Steele responded. "Maybe it does seem a bit strange, but I’ve got to go with what the boy told me. I’m taking it to the grand jury tomorrow."
"That’s ridiculous, Joe! Pure Hogwash! Why would he put his girlfriend over the bomb if he wanted to kill himself? Why would he even have her in the car with him?"
"You’ll have to ask him those questions, Griff. I guess maybe it was some weird murder-suicide thing. I don’t know. Maybe he was mad at her or maybe he just couldn’t handle the thought of someone else having her after he was gone. That’s not my worry. I’ve got a confession and I’ve got to run with it."
"I’ve heard that he went to the FBI in Cincinnati over something. Could this be related in some way?"
"I doubt it. He was offered witness protection and turned it down. I can understand why from what he told Kerry and me. He said it was all a pack of lies to get even with the deputies who killed his brother, and the suicide attempt was to really put them on the spot by making it look like they had killed him. Doesn’t sound to me like anyone would be too interested in doing him in."
"And you don’t think it’s worth investigating?"
"No, Griff, I don’t."
Griff paused for a moment. "It still doesn’t add up, Joe. I’m putting one and one together and getting six. When you consider what Maria Bowman said, it leave some questions."
Steele’s voice hardened. "Griff, listen to me. Let it go. Write what you’re given and let…it…go. All right?" Griff tensed at the anger in Steele’s voice.
"I…I guess maybe you’re right, Joe. Thanks." Griff hung up and leaned back in his chair. He had always had a cordial relationship with Steele and he didn’t like the implied threat in Steele’s comments and voice. Something was definitely wrong, and Griff did not like the possibilities that rose in his mind. He had known for years that Mirage and others were dirty, but he had never considered Steele. Yet, he was obviously covering up something on this one, and why would he do that if he were not involved. "It can’t be!" he told himself. Can it? And if he’s in it, how much further does the rot go?"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Caitlin and Dave were cleaning the rec center, getting ready to open for the day. Carolyn was sitting asleep on the counter in her carry-all, and both of them made frequent trips to admire her.
There was still no progress toward getting the health department orders rescinded or revised, nor was there any possibility of being able to meet the stringent and ridiculous requirements, and time was rapidly running out.
Dave had turned on the stereo and Cait was sweeping in rhythm to a Petra tape when a figure limped through the front door. It was remotely female, but was bundled so heavily that it was impossible to be sure. She could not even see the figure’s face, so deeply was it hidden behind a scarf and hat. Cait had to wonder why the person was bundled so heavily on such a warm day.
"We don’t open for another two hours," she called. The vaguely familiar eyes peering through the scarf stared at her hauntingly for a second, then the figure raised its and pulled the scarf away.
It took a moment for Cait to recognize the battered and swollen face before her, but when she did, she let out a cry of horror. "Oh, dear Jesus!" and ran to Julie. She tried to embrace the girl, but Julie pushed her away.
"No!" she screamed. "Be careful, Cait! You can’t let any of my blood touch you! You’ll catch AIDS!" By this time Dave had seen what was happening and had joined the pair.
"Julie, what happened?"
"I finally told my father about the AIDS. This is how much he loves me. When he was done he went through my pockets to see if I had any money.
I hope he cut his hand hitting me and got my blood in it." Her eyes were deep wells that held a world of hurt; very little of it from the physical pain she was enduring.
"We’ve got to get you to the hospital," Cait said.
"What good would that do?" Julie asked bitterly. "I’m underage and they won’t treat me without my father’s permission. Do you really think he’s going to pay for that? Or that he’s gonna admit he did this by signing me in for treatment?" She had been fighting for control and now she lost it, falling to her knees, crying. "Do you really think that he cares if I get treatment after he did this? He told me he would kill me if he ever saw me again. Then he said the mail me the money I make hooking or he’d come looking for me."
Cait could stand no more. Regardless of the danger, she knelt and threw her arms around the girl, but once more Julie pushed her away. "No, Cait!" she screamed. "You’ll catch it. You two are the only people in the world who have ever been nice to me and I couldn’t stand it if you caught it from me! I’m not going to let it happen. I won’t let you! Do you hear me? I won’t let you!" She slumped to the floor as if the thought of being cut off from the love she had found from Dave and Caitlin sank in. The realization that she would again be totally alone was more than she could handle and she gave in to the terrible oceans of pain and loneliness within her heart. She jumped as Cait laid her hand on Julie’s back, but was too overcome to make any further protest.
Dave and Cait knelt at her side, praying; offering the only comfort they could give at the moment. They would try to find their next step once she calmed down.