Chapter 2
The Chevy Caprice sped down Ashland Avenue and rounded the corner onto Taylor Street. It skidded to a stop as it reached Salvatore’s, and Special Agent Ali Krieger stepped out of the passenger’s side. Special Agent Megan Rapinoe put the car in park and exited the vehicle leaving the engine running. She caught up with Ali, and the pair made their way through the local cops and the press that were already on the scene.
“Damn, Kriegs. What the hell do you think happened here?”
“I don’t know, Pinoe. But I see Hope. Let’s find out.” They approached Detective Hope Solo of the Chicago Police Department, who was standing right outside the entrance to Salvatore’s. She was wearing a black soccer-style jersey, black jeans and black gym shoes, and she was talking with a uniformed police officer.
“Hope”, Ali called out. Hope turned around.
“Krieger”, Hope said as Ali and Megan approached. Ali was wearing her standard black JOCT windbreaker, jeans and black boots with a short stacked heel. Hope stuck out her hand, and Ali shook it. Hope looked at Megan and said, “Agent Rapinoe.” Megan was wearing her standard navy blue FBI windbreaker, jeans, and black combat boots.
“Uh, that’s Special Agent Rapinoe, Detective Solo”, Megan corrected her. Hope always left out the “Special” part of Megan’s title, and Megan knew the tall, muscular brunette did that just to rib her. “Nice jersey, by the way, Hopey. What – you think you’re some kind of soccer player, or some shit?” Megan broke into a mocking smile and went through the motion of kicking a soccer ball.
“Nice haircut, Pinhead”, Solo retorted. What – are you a member of some dumb-ass Seattle riot grrrl band?”
“Alright, look you two – knock it off”, Ali said. “We have work to do. Hope - what do you know?”
Hope turned to Ali and looked her in the eye. Ali worked for the Joint Organized Crime Taskforce, or JOCT for short. It was a newly developed partnership between the FBI and local police departments that was tasked with combating organized crime and gangs operating in the major cities of the United States. The original overall model of law enforcement was that the FBI was in charge of organized crime, and local law enforcement was responsible for gang activity in their cities. The two branches had not always played well together, but that was changing. With the consolidation of power between different gang segments in the major cities, and the escalating conflict between local gangs and the mafia over the control of drugs, guns, and other vice-related activities, the original model had become outdated. Enter JOCT, whose purpose was to coordinate law enforcement effort between the FBI, who had the overall view of organized crime in the United States, and local law enforcement, who had their finger on the pulse of local crime activity. Megan was Ali’s partner from the FBI. She had a goofy side but a solid, tactical mind. Hope was Ali’s local partner. She was a bit of a maverick, but she was a tough, seasoned Chicago street cop, and she knew Chicago’s mafia and gangs inside and out. When they had first started working together, Megan and Hope had harbored a bit of the old-standing rivalry between the FBI and local law enforcement, but Ali got along well with both of them, and since she had started coordinating the efforts of the Chicago branch of the FBI and the Chicago PD, she had made considerable headway in making Hope and Megan get along better. Now they were pretty much on good terms, and for the most part took jabs at each other harmlessly. Both Hope and Megan liked and respected Ali, and in the two years the three of them had been working together, they had taken down some major players in the Chicago crime scene.
“The victims are Alberto Costello and Vincenzo Pazzarelli”, Hope began.
“Wow”, Ali said, and was silent for a second. “Two heavy hitters.” Costello was the underboss of the Marano crime family, by far the largest mafia family in Chicago. Pazzarelli was his top lieutenant. These guys were close to the top of the criminal underworld food chain. Them getting whacked was big, and something in Ali’s gut told her that this could get ugly. “What the hell happened here?”
Hope nodded in agreement. “Two shots”, she continued. “One tap to each victim. Costello was shot through the right temple. Pazzarelli was shot right between the eyes.”
“Any witnesses?” Ali asked.
“Nope. They had six bodyguards the size of professional wrestlers with them. None of them saw a thing. Neither did the few passersby on the street. We have all of them down at the station right now, but no one’s gonna be able to give us anything.”
“Any ideas?” Megan asked.
“It wasn’t a drive-by”, Hope said. “Most likely M.O. was a sniper, maybe somewhere on one of the rooftops across or down the street, judging by the angle at which the victims were hit.”
Ali looked across the street. Most of the buildings immediately across from the restaurant were two story flats. Any bodyguard who is any good would have spotted someone with a rifle there, and Ali had busted enough of the Marano family to know that their bodyguards were very good. She looked further down the block across the street in each direction. “Okay, if we go with that theory, then the nearest likely place for a sniper to perch and wait would have been that building right there”, Ali said. She pointed to the nearest taller building, a four-story condo complex halfway down the block. “But, that rooftop has gotta be like three hundred yards away.”
“Yeah, I know”, Hope replied. “I just don’t see any other way that it could have gone down.”
Megan looked at Hope. “So, who did it? The Disciples? Another family?” The Chicago Disciples were the largest street gang in the city, and the Marano family’s main competition in the distribution of guns and drugs.
“No”, Hope said. She shook her head and looked at Megan. “The Marano family has pretty much swallowed up all of the other crime families here in the city. Even you dingbats at the FBI know that.” Megan rolled her eyes, and Hope turned back to Ali. “As for the Disciples, well, this isn’t their style. They would have waited with automatic weapons in vans across the street, and then they would have sprayed the entire crew as they came out of the restaurant. No, this is something else.”
Ali thought for a moment and then said, “So…what are you saying, Hope? That we have a new player in the game?” She didn’t like that. This war was already heated enough. Ever since the Marano family had pushed out all of the other mafia families in the city, and the Disciples had consolidated all of street gangs under one umbrella, the conflict had escalated to a whole new level. No longer was it small packs of hoodlums engaging in street fights and petty crime. This was two large factions engaged in full-scale battle. Pretty soon, Ali feared, it would come to an all-out war between the two factions, and there would be a lot of dead bodies caught in the crossfire.
“I don’t know”, Hope said. “I don’t know if we have a new player.” She paused for a second and then said, “But I can tell you this. Whoever did this is a professional.” She looked at Ali and said, “I’ll be in touch. Feel free to hit me up if you need anything.” She then blew a part flirtatious/part condescending air kiss towards Megan and then turned around and walked away.
“That fuckin’ woman”, Megan said and made a ball with her fist. “I swear, sometimes I don’t know if I want to hit that…or hit that, ifyaknowutimsayin’,” she said, pumping her fist in the air and gyrating her hips slightly.
“Jesus, Pinoe. Really?” Ali said, then shook her head slightly and smiled at her partner’s ridiculousness. “C’mon, let’s have a look around.”
********
“So, this is where the assassin may have been”, Ali said. She and Megan were standing on the rooftop of the four-story building that Ali had pointed out earlier when they were talking with Hope. The access door to the rooftop had been jammed when they had arrived, and she and Megan had to bust it open.
“Kriegs, do you really think a sniper sat up here and then took out two of the top guys in the Marano family?” Megan liked to question Ali’s theories. Ali often spun off on wild theories, and Megan saw it as her job to rein Ali in. It bothered Ali sometimes that Megan was always questioning, but it had developed into a good dynamic of check and balance.
“I don’t know”, Ali said, “but Hope is right. There are no other families around anymore to challenge the Marano’s, and I agree with her that, if this had been the Disciples, they would have sprayed the entire restaurant with bullets when the Italians came out. Plus", she looked at Megan, "Why was the door jammed shut when we got up here? It was as if someone came up here and then jammed the door so they wouldn't be disturbed."
Megan shrugged. “Maybe it was jammed because two hotties were up here earlier today, gettin’ down under the summer sun.” Megan laughed at her own words, and Ali rolled her eyes and shook her head. “No, seriously, it could have been a sniper. But, then the question is – why, Kriegs? What is a sniper doing capping wiseguys in Chicago? I mean, snipers take out high profile terrorists in faraway places, right? Not mafia guys in a big city.”
“I don’t know, Pinoe. I seriously have no idea what’s going on here”, Ali said. She took out a flashlight and scoured the rooftop. She squatted near the edge and looked over. She could see the restaurant half a block down. It was over a thousand feet away, but Ali’s brother Kyle had served in the Army, and she knew from him that nailing a target at that range was definitely possible for a good shooter. From here, it would have been a clean shot. No one on the street would have seen him. Or her. Ali stared for a moment longer and tried to imagine how it would have all happened. Then, she looked at the ground. She was about to stand up when something caught her eye. She shined her flashlight on the ground and saw it. Something glimmered in the light. At first she thought it was a thin gold chain, but then she took a closer look. It was a piece of long blond hair. She stared at it for a moment and then shined her flashlight again onto the ground. Nothing else. She looked at the hair in her hand. Probably nothing, she thought. A hair from some tenant who was sunbathing on the roof. It was July in Chicago, after all, and Chicagoans loved to sunbathe in the three months that this city actually had warm weather.
“Find something?” Megan asked.
“Maybe”, Ali said. She put the piece of hair in her pocket, then stood up and walked towards Megan. “Let’s go back to the office”, she said. “I want to run something by you.” She and Megan went back down to the street, got in their car, and headed towards JOCT headquarters, 5 minutes away in downtown Chicago.