"No, that's not quite what you meant."
Jack silently added the thought in his head before asking, "So, you're saying that Gabriel and Officer Amy Campbell didn't have much interaction when they worked together at Newark PD?"
"They were just colleagues, not partners, and as far as I know, they never worked on a case together." Captain Peroni's response was firm.
Jubal exchanged a glance with Jack. Seeing Jack give a slight nod, he understood their objective had been achieved. Just as he got up to leave, he casually added another question.
"Do you know why Officer Amy Campbell left Newark PD?"
Captain Peroni shrugged with a helpless expression.
"Probably because Paterson PD offered her better benefits. You know, she had two kids, and Paterson gave her more time to spend with them."
"Looks like she was just unlucky—happened to cross paths with Gabriel." Jubal nodded slightly, as if he understood completely.
Jack stood up with him and extended a hand. "Thanks for your time, Captain Peroni."
"I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help, but I do hope you catch that bastard soon." The captain's smile remained just as "genuine" as before.
As soon as they exited the precinct, Jubal's expression turned cold. "I get that he doesn't want to get involved with a troublemaker, but he was way too eager to wash his hands of this."
"Can you get us more detailed records without alerting Newark PD—or at least without alerting this precinct? We need to pull up every case Gabriel worked on during his time here." Jack didn't want to tip their hand too soon.
In law enforcement, there's a well-known term: the Blue Wall of Silence. It refers to the unspoken rule of mutual protection among police officers.
At its core, this practice is neutral—akin to familial loyalty. However, it becomes problematic when officers use it to cover up misconduct, abuse of power, or excessive force.
Even Frank Reagan, as head of the NYPD, had to tread carefully when investigating the Blue Templar, a rogue faction within the department. Had he gone in without concrete evidence, many of its members might have slipped through the cracks due to this "blue wall."
When Sonny Malevsky chose to end his own life (Chapter 653), he was, in a way, executing the very principle of the Blue Wall, using his death to put a definitive end to the investigation.
Jubal, a seasoned FBI agent, understood these dynamics all too well. After a moment of contemplation, he sighed and nodded.
"I'll try. I have an old friend at the FBI's Newark office…" He trailed off when he saw Jack smirking.
"You mean Supervisory Agent Reyna Trenholm, right? That botched DNA evidence case didn't hurt her career, did it? So, did you two patch things up?" Jack teased.
Jubal was caught off guard. "How the hell do you know that?"
Jack grinned. "Ran into her looking for you last time. Just a coincidence."
Jubal was about to fire back when Jack's phone buzzed.
"Looks like our night's not over yet." Jack's expression turned serious as he read JJ's message.
"What happened?" Jubal immediately shifted gears.
"Remember one of the two state troopers Gabriel shot at the diner? The one we suspected was his real target—Tyler Kubiak?"
"Yeah, I remember."
"JJ found out his father is a paramedic with the Newark Fire Department. And his service area overlaps with the precinct where Gabriel was stationed."
Jubal's eyes lit up. "That doesn't seem like a coincidence."
"It definitely isn't."
Later That Night – Tyler Kubiak's Father's Home
BAM!
A half-empty bottle of whiskey slammed onto the table. A middle-aged white man, eyes bloodshot, exhaled heavily, his voice thick with anger.
"I only know Gabriel Clark as the man who murdered my son. And the only thing I want is for you to catch him—preferably send him straight to hell."
"We're here to do exactly that, Mr. Kubiak," Jubal assured him. "But we need your help. Gabriel grew up in Newark. Is there any chance your son, Tyler, knew him?"
The grieving father collapsed onto the couch, wiping away his tears. "No chance. Tyler's mother and I divorced when he was young. He grew up with her in Edison."
"Are you sure?" Jack leaned forward slightly, locking eyes with him.
"Of course. Tyler was a good kid—not the type to mix with an undisciplined punk like Gabriel."
Jack pulled up a photo of Gabriel on his phone and placed it in front of Kubiak. "Take a good look. Gabriel's precinct covered your service area. You might've seen him."
Kubiak's eyes flickered as he quickly looked away. He grabbed the whiskey and took another swig. "Just looking at his damn face makes me sick."
Jack's tone turned sharp. "That's interesting. You claim you and your son didn't know Gabriel, yet you immediately called him an 'undisciplined punk.' That means you do know about him.
"His mother died when he was young. His father was an alcoholic. Is that what you're referring to?"
Kubiak stiffened.
Jubal pressed on. "Mr. Kubiak, we believe Gabriel killed your son over a personal vendetta. That's why we came to you first.
"There's no point in hiding anything now. Lying to the FBI is a federal offense. We don't want to see more unnecessary deaths."
Kubiak suddenly stood up, staring hard at them, then took another deep swig of whiskey. "Maybe you're right. Maybe there's nothing left to hide."
He began pacing the room, running a hand through his graying hair. After a long pause, he finally spoke.
"About two years ago, my ambulance responded to a shooting involving Newark PD. It was a raid on a drug house.
"A civilian inside was shot and killed. That alone wasn't unusual. But I remember seeing Gabriel Clark arguing with a female officer at the scene."
Jack showed him a photo of Amy Campbell. "Was it this officer?"
"Probably. I don't remember clearly." Kubiak rubbed his temples, his voice breaking. Tears streamed down his face once again.
(End of Chapter)
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