Kiss The Witch Part 15

"Hmm, well that's all well and fine, but the little things don't mean s.h.i.t if you don't notice the big things, too."

"Like what?"

I pointed out the rain-spotted window at the gray Hummer in front of the house. "Like Howard Snow showing up right under your nose."

"I would have noticed that."

"Come on. Let's go."

We hopped out of the car and hurried across the street. Fortunately, Snow was wearing a rain jacket with the hood pulled over his head, acting as blinders. That allowed us to come around him undetected from both sides.

"Mister Snow," I said, flashing my badge and ID. He looked frightened at first, but after seeing my badge, his expression changed to one of relief. "Mister Snow, can we talk to you?"

He shut the car door and that is when he noticed Carlos. He put his hands up in surrender. "Please," he said. "I didn't do anything."

"That's all right." I returned my badge and ID to my pocket. "You can put your hands down. We only what to ask you some questions."

He glanced over his shoulder, up one end of the street and down the other. "How did you find me?"

"We're Big Brother," said Carlos. "We find everyone."

"Carlos, please. Mister Snow, what are you afraid of? Why do you keep looking over your shoulder?"

"What does he mean, you're Big Brother?"

"He means nothing. We are not the Feds. We're cops from the Second Precinct. We only want to ask you a few questions. Is that all right?"

He dropped his hands slowly. "Okay."

"Do you have any weapons on you Mister Snow?"

"No."

"Mind if we check?"

He shook his head. I gave Carlos a nod and he pat him down quickly.

"He's clean."

"Mister Snow, do you know why we are here?"

He scoffed. "I hope you're here to find out the truth."

"The truth?"

"About what happened to Gerardi, Brookfield, Williams and Delaney."

"And McSweeney?" said Carlos.

Snow seemed surprised. "Her, too?"

"What is the truth?" I asked.

"The truth," said Snow, "is that the government killed those people and they want to kill me, too."

"Why is that?"

"You know why. QE647. They want to snuff out everyone involved in its research and development."

"So it's true? QE647 is not a sweetener?"

He laughed nervously. "Please. You have no idea, Detective. QE647 will change the course of humanity. I knew from the beginning the government would never let knowledge of its existence go public. It's Area 51 all over again. I'm telling you. I just didn't know they would kill for it."

"Who has it now," I asked. "Did you steal it?"

"What? Is that what they told you? Detective, don't you see? It's a sham, a cover-up. No one stole the compound. It's a blame game to throw you off track. Did you see they blew up my house?"

"We did."

"They want you to think I'm dead so that you will stop looking for me."

"Why would they want us to do that?"

"So they can find me and kill me without anyone knowing what ever happened to me. Ha, don't think for a moment they don't wish I was in the house when it blew. Ah, but I'm too smart for them. After Williams and Delaney, I knew it was no coincidence. They must think I'm an idiot not to know they are after me now."

"Mister Snow, I don't understand. If Biocrynetix Laboratories wants to keep this all under wraps, why did Ferguson report the theft of the compound to the police?"

"Because Ferguson is afraid for his life, too. h.e.l.l, the only reason he's still alive is that he has no idea what is in QE647. He knows what it is. He just couldn't help anyone replicate it."

I looked at Carlos. He seemed to be buying the story, and frankly, so was I. Things were beginning to make a lot more sense to me now.

"Mister Snow. We had cadaver dogs out at your house this morning. The police know you were not in the house when it blew."

"d.a.m.n it. Detective, please, you have to help me. I have nowhere else to turn. I lost my wife last night you know. She died."

"We know that. We're sorry for your loss."

He shook his head. "Probably for the better. I would not be able to stay away from her. We would both make easy targets."

"I think we can help you. We can hold off reports regarding your house for a while, maybe buy you time. Buy us some time, as well."

"You would do that?"

"I'll try, but you will have to promise me you won't leave town, at least until we can piece a few more bits of this puzzle together. If you would like, I can have the neighborhood patrolled every so often."

"No. Don't do that. I would rather no one knows you found me. I cannot trust a soul. You can't trust a soul, not even your own people."

"You can trust us," I said.

Carlos nodded.

Snow said, "Listen. I will stay here awhile longer only under the condition you not to tell anyone. Do we have a deal?"

"We have a deal," I said, and we shook on it.

The rain began falling harder just as we were climbing back into Carlos' car. He mumbled something about having just waxed it, but I paid no attention. "What do you think of Howard Snow?" I asked.

"Don't like him," he said flatly.

"Why not?"

"Who the h.e.l.l does he think he is, asking if we have a deal? He is in no position to make deals with anyone. We should have hauled him in. Been done with it."

"We could," I said, "but then we would have to turn around and let him go again."

"Why?"

"We have nothing on him. Besides, I don't think he stole anything. The man is afraid for his life. And with good reason."

"I suppose." Carlos started the car, turned the wipers on and pulled out heading north on Monroe. "So, what do we do now?"

I took my phone out and hit speed dial for Spinelli. "We do some more digging. By the way, where are we going? The Justice Center is the other way."

Carlos pointed out the window. "The 7-11. I forgot to pick up a lotto ticket this morning."

"A lotto ticket? Carlos, what the h.e.l.l? You don't have enough money already? Give someone else a chance."

"What? I can play."

"Yes, but.... Wait. Dominic. It's me. What do you mean, me who? It's Tony. Look, I need you to find out all you can about the relationship between Biocrynetix Laboratories, its investors and the government. I want to know where the research money is really coming from. Can you do that? Good. We will see you soon. What? No. Carlos is swinging by the 7-11 for lotto tickets. You what? All right. Fine. Goodbye."

I put my phone away just as Carlos was pulling into the 7-11 parking lot. Before hopping out, he asked me if I wanted anything.

"No," I said, shaking my head, "but Spinelli wants a lotto ticket, too."

"Oh?" He gave me a look as if not sure what to do. "Did he give you numbers?"

"No. Can't you do a quick-pick?"

"Yeah but...."

"But what?"

"I do the quick-pick for myself."

"So?"

"If I get two quick-picks, how will I know which one is his?"

"Easy. His will be the losing ticket."

"Oh," he said, seemingly satisfy with that.

Shortly after Carlos went into the store, Lilith called to tell me she was going shopping and wanted to know if I needed anything. I don't know why; call it pride or superst.i.tion, but I did ask Lilith to pick me up a lotto ticket. A big part of me hoped it would not win, though. Listening to Carlos would probably take all the fun out of it.

We arrived back at the Justice Center on the heels of a torrent. I calculated that if Carlos had not stopped for lotto tickets we would have made it into the building minutes before the heaviest rains fell. Worse still was that Carlos had no umbrellas in his car. Said he left them in his other Vette. I reminded him he was a millionaire and could afford to put one in all his cars. He promised he would if his new ticket won.

Just as I stepped out of the car, a patrol unit pa.s.sed by, hit a puddle and dowsed me in dirty water from head to toe. Carlos saw it happen and was quick to inform me that an umbrella would not have helped. He ran ahead of me to the covered overhang. I walked, reasoning that rainwater was better than dirty street water. To be honest, though, it sucked just as bad.

Upstairs, Spinelli had better news for me. Through the Freedom of Information Act, he was able to produce doc.u.ments indicating the U.S. Department of Agriculture contracted with Biocrynetix Laboratories to conduct research on a corn syrup subst.i.tute. When I asked how much the contract was for, he could not tell me.

"The problem," he said, "lies in the fact that the Department of Agriculture has a budget allowed by Congress, but that Congress does not require accountability for every dollar spent. The GAO oversees that.

"GAO?" said Carlos.

"U.S. Government Accountability Office," I said.

Spinelli added, "I've pet.i.tioned the Comptroller General's Office for figures relating to DOA's affairs with Biocrynetix Laboratories, but they told me to get in line."

"What does that mean?"

"It means they are backlogged with thousands of requests to furnish information on everything from the American Reinvestment and Recovery Act, the Troubled a.s.set Relief program, the auto industry bailout, and financial aid to Iraq, Afghanistan, and Pakistanyou name it. Cutting through the red tape could take years."

"We don't have years," said Carlos.

"Don't need it," I said. "But this does swing the pendulum back to the corn syrup subst.i.tute question. Which means Snow is not telling us everything he knows."

"Then what do we do?"

"We need to go back and see Howard Snow."

Carlos gave me a look as though I had stepped in dog s.h.i.t and wiped it on my pant leg. "We are not taking my car, are we?"

"Don't worry," I said. "You and Dominic go. I have to go home to shower and change."

"You want us to bring him in?"

"No. Keep back a ways. Sit on him and observe awhile until I catch up with you. Maybe we will get lucky and find there is someone else involved in this."

"Okay. You got it."

The two of them started away when I called back to Spinelli. He turned reluctantly, and from the look on his face, I knew he knew what I wanted. I put my hand out and gestured a give it here thing with my fingers.

"What?" he said. He knew.

"You know."

"Tony, please. I just had the inside detailed."