“This is Officer Harris, and he’s hopefully here to give us good news.” Val tried a charming smile.
The cop chuckled. “Call me Sid. After what you two achieved here tonight, we’re on a first-name basis.”
“You found the book, then,” Tetra butted in.
“We found the book. The business transactions recorded in it were very interesting. The handwritten contract in the first few pages would be the equivalent of the Star of Africa if criminal investigation was diamond mining.”
Sid grinned. “I guess I understand why the corrupt CEO of a major corporation would insist on a signed contract with the head of the organized crime syndicate he’s involved with. I also get why they’d write it by hand and hide it in a secure location.”
“What they thought was a secure location, anyway.” Tetra smirked.
Sid inclined his head. “In this day and age, it’s not surprising that they believed a handwritten hard copy would be more secure than a typed document or a verbal agreement. Either way, it’s as incriminating as evidence can get. They both signed it. It details every aspect of their money-laundering agreement. Our handwriting analysts will confirm that Anthony Warner and the mob boss we’re after were the parties involved.”
“They’re going to jail, then?” Val suggested.
“The mob boss might or might not. It depends on whether we can find him. I’m sure he’s gone to ground.” Sid grinned. “But Anthony Warner’s spoiled rich ass is going to rot in prison for a long, long time. A team is on its way to his home in Staten Island to arrest him right now.”
“Blair and Yuka will be safe?” Val asked.
Sid nodded. “Warner won’t target them anymore. What’s more, I think you’ve made it clear to any criminal in the city that they’d better not mess with Blair and Yuka…or any of your clients, Miss Stonehold.”
“Will you take the cuffs off now?” Tetra demanded.
“I’m afraid not. I need statements first. There’s no video footage to confirm what happened here, but our forensics experts can try.” Sid glanced at Mr. Molotov’s body, then shuddered. “Tell me what happened here, Miss Stonehold.”
Val hesitated. “First, call me Val. I received a tip that BrewCorp owns this warehouse, and it struck me as strange that they’d own a random warehouse so far from any of their breweries or retail clients.”
“A tip?” Sid raised his eyebrows.
Val held his gaze. “A tip.”
Sid shrugged. “Continue.”
“I came to check it out, and when I looked inside, I saw several armed men loading the truck.” Val inclined her head toward the warehouse. “Two of the men wore overalls and did not appear to be armed.”
“The two men we found dead with a flamethrower and a shotgun, respectively?” Sid inquired.
“Yeah, those guys. I didn’t know they were armed. I believed they were at risk, so I approached the warehouse to make a citizen’s arrest,” Val explained.
Sid frowned. “Why didn’t you call 911?”
“I feared for the men’s lives and didn’t think you’d get here in time.” Val shot him a winning smile.
“Uh-huh.” Sid’s eyes narrowed. “It wasn’t just a ploy to get inside and find evidence linking BrewCorp and organized crime, was it? Nor was the 911 call a bid to get cops inside so we could find the evidence legally?”
“Not at all, sir,” Val declared. “I’d never do such a thing.”
Sid’s mustache twitched. “And the armed men inside all attacked you when you entered.”
“That’s right, sir.” Val paused. “No one was hurt who didn’t try to hurt us first. You can quote me on that.”
“I believe you,” Sid told her. “I might not believe the rest of your story, but I believe that part. Get out of the car. Both of you.”
Val stepped out. Sid unlocked her handcuffs, then Tetra’s.
“You’re letting us go?” Tetra asked, surprised.
“You’ll need to give formal statements and leave us your contact details, but you’re free to go.” Sid paused. “I know you’re hiding something, Miss Stonehold. At the same time, I know that you captured gang members we’ve been pursuing for years. You also eliminated a link with a legitimate business that could have caused greater trouble than attacks on a single company.”
“Not hiding a thing, sir.” Val chuckled.
“The NYPD and this city owe you a debt of gratitude. You made these streets much safer today.” Sid grinned. “Nice cage match against Diego Lopez, by the way. I made over a grand on you!”
“Nice!” Val laughed.
Sid’s smile faded, and he folded his arms. “Now, can I make another suggestion?”
Val nodded.
“Get a license that allows you to do the shit we both know you’re going to do anyway, okay?” Sid shook his head. “It’ll be easier for us to help you with the paperwork if you give us something to work with.”
“Thanks.” Val grinned. “I think.”
“Here’s your dagger.” Sid held the weapon out. “I suppose we should all thank our lucky stars that you don’t carry a gun.”
Val returned the dagger to its sheath, then reached for one of the Iron Fist gift cards she always carried. “Here. I part-own this place. Great little bar on the corner in the Continental Army Plaza.” She held it out. “This entitles you to free drinks for the night.”
“You keep those on you to hand out to random people?” Sid inquired.
