NYPD Red 3 by James Patterson

Author:James Patterson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781473505506
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2015-04-08T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 41

HUNTER GOT IN the back of Blackstone’s Audi and slammed the door.

“Get me home,” he said. “You got anything to drink back here?”

Silas rolled his eyes. Sure. I’ll send the sommelier to your table with a wine list. “Sorry, boss,” he said, pulling out. “You want me to stop along the way?”

“No. I want you to call your people and have them do a complete workup on this private school cream puff Ryan Madison.”

“What am I looking for?”

“The usual,” Hunter said. “Drugs, hookers, cheating on his taxes—anything and everything.”

“You were only there fifteen minutes. What did he do?”

“Son of a bitch won’t cooperate. Right now he’s our only connection to Tripp, so I tell him, ‘The next time you hear from him, call me, not the cops.’ One hand washes the other, I say. ‘I’ll pay for your trouble.’ I put the cash down on his goddamn desk.”

“And?”

“And the candy-ass Boy Scout says he doesn’t take bribes. Fine. Let’s just see what kind of a Boy Scout he really is. I want every one of this guy’s dirty little secrets. Documents, pictures—everything and anything you can dig up on him.”

“What if he’s clean?” Silas said, turning onto the 85th Street transverse.

“Nobody is clean. Nobody.”

“I get it, but I mean he’s a teacher. Teachers get parking tickets. They don’t rip off the IRS. They don’t run drugs. What if there’s nothing?”

“Then invent something,” Hunter barked. “By tomorrow this time, I want to own that bastard.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll get right on it.”

“Not you. I said have your people do it. Your job is to sit on Madison. Drop me off at home, then go back and watch his every move.”

“Am I looking for anything in particular?” Silas said.

“God, do I have to spell it out for you? This guy is a hotline to the goddamn police. He’s done it twice, and he’ll do it again. I want you to stay with him. See what he does. See where he goes. And if he goes to the cops, I want to know about it.”

“Will do,” Silas said, wondering how Peter Chevalier had managed to haul this arrogant prick around for twenty-three years. He stayed silent for the rest of the ride to East 81st Street.

“Don’t dick around. Call your people,” Alden said, getting out of the Audi and slamming the door.

“Calling my people,” Silas muttered. He looked at his watch. It was almost 11:00 p.m. in Mumbai. He pulled up the contacts screen on his phone and tapped a name.

Vivek answered on the first ring. “SDB Investigative Services. Vivek speaking.”

“I hope you didn’t plan on getting any sleep tonight, Vivek,” Silas said. “I’ve got Hunter Alden up my ass. He wants a level-three workup on a Ryan Madison.”

“And what does Mr. Alden think the nefarious Mr. Madison has done?”

“That’s the problem. Madison isn’t one of our usual power brokers of dubious character. He’s a teacher at the Barnaby school in New York. It’s possible that the most despicable thing he’s done is piss off Alden by turning down a bribe.

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