Under Pressure by Robert Pobi

Author:Robert Pobi
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Mystery, Suspense, Contemporary, Thriller
ISBN: 9781250293978
Publisher: Minotaur Books
Published: 2020-08-04T05:00:00+00:00

48

57th Street and Fifth Avenue

Lucas and Whitaker brought twelve agents with them—a group of men and women who looked spawned from the same lab in the basement that produced almost everyone who walked the halls of the bureau. They had nondescript clothing that complemented their similar features and haircuts. But they were window dressing—all that Lucas really wanted out of them were the three big yellow letters stenciled on the backs of their windbreakers.

Lucas, Whitaker, and their backup people blew through security this time, not bothering with more than a perfunctory flash of their badges and a blast of pheromones that told people to get out of their way.

When they arrived upstairs, Lucas and Whitaker didn’t bother with the receptionist—this one different from that of the other day in height only—Whitaker just held up her badge and turned right, toward William Hockney’s office. The receptionist ran after them for a few paces, but turned back when she couldn’t keep up. Lucas heard her pick up the phone.

They were almost at the Jurassic-Deco doors when four men who clocked in at an average height of six-five stepped in front of them. They all had the heavy-lidded stare and impassive features of their ilk, and there had to be twelve yards of fabric between their suits.

Whitaker held up her badge and said to the agents in windbreakers, “Shoot them if they don’t get out of our way.”

The certainty drained out of their faces as Whitaker pushed through. Lucas could smell the aggression, but they parted.

Whitaker and Lucas pushed past Hockney’s secretary, who was on her feet, waiting for them. “Mr. Hockney is—”

“Going to want to see us,” Whitaker delivered without a hint of give.

They opened the door and Mr. Hockney was in his chair by the fire, talking to three men who were split between the sofa and the other chair. Voices were raised and everyone’s body language was agitated. They all looked up when the door opened.

Whitaker led the way, but it was Lucas who got the most attention—no doubt because of his spiffy duds with all the holes burned in them.

If William Hockney felt any surprise, he didn’t show it. Which Lucas realized was the difference between the rich and the poor—to the rich, law enforcement is an inconvenience, not a threat. “Special Agent Whitaker, Dr. Page,” he said in perfect monotone. “I assume this is important.” It sounded like he was ordering a glass of water from a waiter, which was a quick recovery from the heated conversation of only a few seconds ago.

Whitaker stepped forward. “We need to speak to you.”

Hockney took a deep breath and nodded toward the man in the middle on the sofa. “Please tell Mr. Molinaro that I regret this interruption, but it cannot be helped.”

The man—an interpreter—turned and spoke softly in Spanish to Molinaro, the oldest man in the group. Molinaro responded, and the interpreter said, “We understand and will be happy to pick this up at dinner tonight. Mr. Molinaro is looking

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