Any Means Necessary (a Luke Stone Thriller-Book #1)

Chapter Seven

5:33 a.m.

East Harlem, Borough of Manhattan

Luke held his breath. Loud noises were not his favorite thing, and one hell of a loud noise was coming.

He stood completely still in the bleak light of a tenement building in Harlem. His gun was out, his back pressed to the wall. Behind him, Ed Newsam stood in almost the exact same pose as his. In front of them in the narrow hallway, half a dozen helmeted and flak-jacketed SWAT team members stood on either side of an apartment door.

The building was dead quiet. Dust motes hung in the air. Moments before, a small robot had slid a tiny camera scope beneath the door, looking for explosives attached to the other side. Negative. Now, the robot had retreated.

Two SWAT guys stepped up with a heavy battering ram. It was a swing-type, an officer holding the handle on each side. They didn't make a sound. The SWAT team leader held up his fist. His index finger appeared.

That was one.

Middle finger. Two.

Ring finger...

The two men reared back and swung the ram. BAM!

The door exploded inward as the rammers ducked back. The four others swarmed in, suddenly shrieking, "Down! Down! Get DOWN!"

Somewhere down the hallway, a child started crying. Doors opened, heads peeped out, then ducked back in. It was one of those things around here. Sometimes the cops came and broke down a neighbor's door.

Luke and Ed waited about thirty seconds until SWAT had secured the apartment. The body was on the floor in the living room, much as Luke suspected it might be. He barely looked at it.

"All clear?" he said to the SWAT leader. The guy glared at Luke just a little bit. There had been a brief argument when Luke commandeered this team. These guys were NYPD. They weren't chess pieces for the feds to move around on a whim. That's what they wanted Luke to know. Luke was fine with that, but a terrorist attack was hardly one man's whim.

"All clear," the team leader said. "That's probably your subject right there."

"Thank you," Luke said.

The guy shrugged and looked away.

Ed kneeled by the body. He carried a fingerprint scanner with him. He took prints from three of the fingers.

"What do you think, Ed?"

He shrugged. "I preloaded Ken Bryant's prints from the police database on here. We should know if we have a match in a few seconds. Meanwhile, you've got obvious ligature marks and swelling. The body is still somewhat warm. Rigor mortis has set in, but is not complete. The fingers are turning blue. I'd say he died the same way as the security guards at the hospital, of strangulation, roughly eight to twelve hours ago."

He looked up at Luke. There was a glint in his eyes. "If you want to take his pants down for me, I can get a rectal temperature reading, and narrow the time a little better."

Luke smiled and shook his head. "No thanks. Eight to twelve hours is fine. Just tell me: is it him?"

Ed glanced at his scanner. "Bryant? Yeah. It's him."

Luke pulled his phone and dialed Trudy. On the other end, her phone rang. Once, twice, three times. Luke glanced around at the dreary bleakness of the apartment. The living room furniture was old, with ripped upholstery, and stuffing coming out of the arms of the sofa. A threadbare rug was splayed on the floor, and empty takeout boxes and plastic utensils were strewn across the table. Heavy black curtains were tacked over the windows.

Trudy's voice came on, alert, almost musical. "Luke," she said. "What's it been? Half an hour?"

"I want to talk about the missing janitor."

"Ken Bryant," she said.

"Right. He's not missing anymore. Newsam and I are at his apartment. We have a positive ID on him. He died about eight to twelve hours ago. Strangled, like the guards."

"Okay," she said.

"I want you to access his bank accounts. He probably had direct deposit from his job at the hospital. Start with that one and work your way out from there."

"Um, I'm going to need a warrant for that."

Luke paused. He understood her hesitancy. Trudy was a good officer. She was also young and ambitious. Breaking the rules had derailed many a promising career. But not always. Sometimes breaking the rules led to fast-track promotions. It all depended on which rules you broke, and what happened as a result.

"You have Swann there with you?" he said.

"Yes."

"Then you don't need a warrant."

She didn't answer.

"Trudy?"

"I'm here."

"We don't have time to execute a warrant. There are lives at stake."

"Is Bryant a suspect in this case?"

"He is a person of interest. Anyway, he's dead. We are hardly violating his rights."

"Am I right that this is an order from you, Luke?"

"This is a direct order," he said. "This is my responsibility. If you want to take it that far, this is me telling you that your job depends on this. You do what I say, or I will initiate disciplinary proceedings. Is that understood?"

She sounded petulant, almost like a child. "Fine."

"Good. When you access his account, look for anything out of the ordinary. Money that doesn't belong there. Large deposits or large withdrawals. Wire transfers. If he has a savings account or investments linked, take a look at those. We're talking about an ex-con with a custodial job. He shouldn't have that much money. If he does, I want to know where it came from."

"Okay, Luke."

He hesitated. "How are we doing on license plates?"

"We are going as fast as we can," she said. "We accessed overnight video footage from cameras at Fifth Avenue and 96th Street, as well as Fifth Avenue and 94th Street, and a few others around the neighborhood. We are tracking a 198 vehicles, 46 of which are high priority. I should have an initial report from headquarters in about fifteen minutes."

Luke glanced at his watch. Time was getting tight. "Okay. Good work. We'll be down there as soon as we can."

"Luke?"

"Yes."

"The story is all over the news. They have three live feeds on the big board here right now. They're all leading with it."

He nodded. "I figured."

She went on. "The mayor has scheduled an announcement for 6a.m. It sounds like he's going to tell everyone to stay home today."

"Everyone?"

"He wants all nonessential personnel to stay out of Manhattan. All office workers. All cleaning workers and store clerks. All school children and teachers. He is going to suggest that five million people take the day off."

Luke put his hand to his mouth. He took a breath. "That should do a lot for morale," he said. "When everyone in New York stays home, the terrorists just might hit Philadelphia."