Manhunt (Michael Bennett 10.50)
“Do you or any of your friends know anyone involved in a group like that?”
This time Abdul thought about it, then shook his head. He said, “I spend most of my time either studying or working here.”
Santos said, “What about the Muslim student union at NYU?”
“What about it? I go there to see my friends. Meet women.”
“And what do you plan to use your degree in biology for?”
“This coming summer I have an internship at an institute in San Francisco doing cancer research. That might be what I’m interested in long-term.” The young man seemed to be getting some confidence.
The FBI agent made notes, but didn’t invite Darya or me to say anything at all.
Now Santos moved on to our case. He pulled up our photograph of Temir Marat and said, “Know him?”
Abdul shook his head.
“Where were you on Thanksgiving morning?”
“Having breakfast with the family of one of my professors who lives in the Village.”
“We’ll need his name and address. Now.”
Santos pushed over a notebook for Abdul to write in. He made more notes and asked more questions, which Abdul answered quickly and clearly. Then the FBI man thanked him, but warned him not to leave the city. That was it. It felt more like a schoolyard bullying session than an interview. When Santos stood up and handed Abdul a card, I did the same thing. The only difference is, I smiled and winked at him when I gave him the card. He gave me a nervous smile and nod in return.
Then all three of us marched out of the deli.
Before we even got to the car, I had to say, “What the hell was that?”
“What was what?”
“Treating that kid like that! We have no reason to believe that he’s done anything wrong. Why are we wasting time scaring kids to death?”
Santos stopped on the sidewalk and looked at me like I was a little kid who just asked a stupid question in class. “Do I have to remind you, Detective, that this is a federal case? It’s not some cheap New York City misdemeanor or dead dope addict.” Santos looked at Darya to see if she was interested in getting involved in the argument. Then he said, “The FBI has to look at the big picture and see if we can link different terror networks. It may not seem like it’s helping much now, but it could pay off big later. Let me know when you solve a major terror case.”
That stung a little bit. As I slipped into the Crown Victoria, I felt like I’d been told off pretty effectively.
Chapter 16
After the interview with Abdul, I realized my time might be better utilized. I saw my opportunity when Santos was called to a boss’s office to give an update on the investigation.
I tried to quietly slip out of the task force office, ready to tell anyone who asked that I was just going to lunch. It would take a while to drive out to Brighton Beach, the Brooklyn neighborhood with a high population of Russian immigrants. But I doubted anyone would miss me, especially Agent Dan Santos.
As I hustled down the corridor away from the office, I heard someone behind me. I turned to see Darya Kuznetsova with a smile on her face.
She said, “Going somewhere?”
“Yeah, I’m going to do my job.” Then, for no real reason, I said, “I’m going to visit some Russian mobsters. Do you want to come?”
She didn’t say a word but just kept following me.
“Why didn’t we talk to these Russians yesterday when we talked to your other informants?”
“Because Russian mobsters are in a different class. They could help us, or they could try to find Marat themselves for a reward.”
Darya said, “Do you think every Russian living in the US is a mobster?”
“That’s ridiculous. Not everyone can be a mobster. Some Russians work in support roles.” I waited until she turned and stared at me, then laughed and said, “I’m just kidding. But if you think no Russians are involved in organized crime, you’re just as wrong. I know a couple of them. I know they won’t be happy about the attack. So why don’t we use that?”