Darkfall

he’s in full agreement with me: We can’t go on treating this as if it were just an ordinary homicide investigation; we’ve got to put the pressure on. We’re forming a special task force. We’re converting two interrogation rooms into a task force headquarters, putting in special phone lines and everything.”
    “Does that mean Jack and I are being pulled off the case?”
    “No, no,” Gresham said. “I’m putting you in charge of the task force. I want you to head back to the office, work up an attack plan, a strategy, figure out everything you’ll need. How many men-both uniforms and detectives? How much clerical support? How many vehicles? Establish emergency liaisons with city, state, and federal drug enforcement agencies, so we don’t have to go through the bureaucracy every time we need information. Then meet me in my office at five o’clock.”
    “We’ve still got work to do here,” Jack said.
    “Others can handle that,” Gresham said. “And by the way, we’ve gotten some answers to your queries about Lavelle.”
    “The phone company?” Jack asked.
    “That’s one of them. They’ve no listed or unlisted number for anyone named Baba Lavelle. In the past year, they’ve had only two new customers named Lavelle. I sent a man around this morning to talk to both of them. Neither is black, like your Lavelle. Neither of them knows anyone named Baba. And neither of them made my man the least bit suspicious.”
    Driven by a sudden hard wind, snow grated like sand across the window. Below, Fifth Avenue briefly vanished beneath whirling flakes.
    “What about the power company?” Jack asked.
    “Same situation,” Gresham said. “No Baba Lavelle.”
    “He might’ve used a friend’s name for utility connections.”
    Gresham shook his head. “Also heard back from the Department of Immigration. No one named Lavelle-Baba or otherwise-applied for any residency permit, either short-term or long-term, in the past year.”
    Jack frowned. “So he’s in the country illegally.”
    “Or he’s not here at all,” Rebecca said.
    They looked at her, puzzled.
    She elaborated: “I’m not convinced there is a Baba Lavelle.”
    “Of course there is,” Jack said.
    But she said, “We’ve heard a lot about him, and we’ve seen some smoke… But when it comes to getting hold of physical evidence of his existence, we keep coming up empty- handed.”
    Gresham was keenly interested, and his interest disheartened Jack. “You think maybe Lavelle is just a red herring? Sort of a… paper man behind which the real killer or killers are hiding?”
    “Could be,” Rebecca said.
    “A bit of misdirection,” Gresham said, clearly intrigued. “In reality, maybe it’s one of the other mafia families making a move on the Carramazzas, trying to take the top rung of the ladder.”
    “Lavelle exists,” Jack said.
    Gresham said, “You seem so certain of that. Why?”
    “I don’t know, really.” Jack looked out the window at the snowswept towers of Manhattan. “I won’t pretend I’ve got good reasons. It’s just… instinct. I feel it in my bones. Lavelle is real. He’s out there somewhere. He’s out there… and I think he’s the most vicious, dangerous son of a bitch any of us is ever going to run up against.”
    II
    At Wellton School, when classes on the third floor recessed for lunch, Penny Dawson wasn’t hungry. She didn’t even bother to go to her newly assigned locker and get her lunchbox. She stayed at her desk and kept her head down on her folded arms, eyes closed, pretending to nap. A sour, icy ball lay lead-heavy in the pit of her stomach. She was sick-not with any virus, but with fear.
    She hadn’t told anyone about the silver-eyed goblins in the basement. No one would believe she’d really seen them. And, for sure, no one would believe the goblins were eventually going to attempt to kill her.
    But she knew what was coming. She didn’t know why it was happening to her, of all people. She didn’t know exactly how it would happen or when. She didn’t know where the goblins came from. She didn’t know if she had a chance of escaping them; maybe there was no way out. But she did know what they intended to do to her. Oh, yes.
    It wasn’t merely her own fate that worried her. She was scared for Davey, too. If the goblins wanted her, they might also want him.
    She felt responsible for Davey, especially since their mother had died. After all, she was his big sister. A big sister had an