"Don't look at me like that. No rumor spreads faster than gossip. Even the guards downstairs probably know about this by now. Jack, you're a celebrity now, like a rock star."
Aubrey raised his hands to show that he was forced into this situation. There were only two days left before the final results of the mayoral election, and Jack's request was to force Quinn Alonzo to take action before then, thereby revealing his identity.
Jack glared at him fiercely, but seeing Hannah and Jiejie's expressions clearly indicating knowledge of this, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Some things are different if they're done or not. Someone still had some confidence. After nonchalantly blocking out the everyone's anticipatory looks, he coughed and continued the conversation.
"The most crucial issue now is timing. Launching too early or too late won't meet the requirements for a special election, so I hope everyone can..."
While there was a suspicion of a conspiracy to manipulate the election, everyone had no selfish motives, simply wanting to prevent the villains from turning New York into Gotham City. Even the typically upright, long-legged beauty Detective Beckett enthusiastically joined in the discussion.
From "PLAN-A" to "PLAN-D," everyone offered suggestions and plotted multiple scenarios for different scenarios.
Cassel leaned over to Jubal, frowning as he gazed at the notepad filled with notes. "The wine cellar where Lya had kidnapped and hidden old Moretti would be a good hiding place.
It's still a crime scene, and the lockdown hasn't been lifted. This explains why Taylor, despite the intelligence, hasn't been able to retrieve the account book.
But how else can we explain why the FBI couldn't find anything there before, only to be scooped up by a reporter?"
A momentary silence fell in the conference room. All plans revolved around Lya's account book. While the evidence contained within was only enough to send Landon Walker, one of the mayoral candidates, to prison, the true mastermind, Quinn Alonzo, was unaware of this.
The FBI was exploiting the man's guilty conscience. Whether it was to ensure Landon Walker's mayoral election or to avoid FBI attention, Alonzo couldn't rest easy without Lya's account book.
To force this desperate man to reveal his true colors, Jack planned to have a scene with Taylor in the New York Times editorial office tomorrow, and then go with her to the abandoned wine cellar to retrieve the "account book" that evening.
While Cassel's suggestion was merely a minor detail, it required even more careful consideration to make the bait believable.
"Have you forgotten my father is now a federal judge? I learned from him that Laiah is being secretly held in an IRS tax jail. Wouldn't it be reasonable for me to visit him privately and obtain some secrets in exchange for writing his biography?" Taylor was
n't at all fazed by being used as bait; he was even quite excited because Jack was accompanying him.
"Then it's no problem," Jubal spread his hands and pointed at Fusco, signaling that he could make the call.
The conference room fell silent again, everyone's eyes fixed on Detective "Beans," who would play the role of "the mole" for the final time.
Fusco pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and placed it on the table, swallowing nervously. "Are you sure it's okay?"
"Any more questions will depend on your quick wits." Jack smiled and continued to increase his intensity. Detective "Beans" was like a spring, the kind that only gained strength when pressured.
The atmosphere had reached this point. Fusco scratched his head, then, with a resolute determination that seemed to pierce the screen, pressed a finger and dialed Simmons Patrick's number.
"What's up?" Simmons' voice came through the receiver, his impatience evident.
"Um, there's news about that ledger."
"Did you get the account book?" Simmons' voice suddenly tinged with surprise.
"No, but I know who has it—or, more precisely, who's going to get it: a New York Times reporter named Taylor Kelly."
Fusco's tone was partly self-aggrandizement, partly mysterious, and full of acting talent.
"I haven't heard of it. What does this have to do with reporters?" Simmons seemed strangely irritated.
Fusco then told Simmons how he'd learned from his good partner, Danny, that his FBI friend had been closely monitoring a New York Times reporter.
He also relayed the reporter's background, and how, through the connections of his father, a federal judge, he had interviewed the secretly detained Leah.
"So, you can't get the account book, and you'll just have to watch it fall into the hands of the FBI?" Simmons impatiently summarized Fusco's long speech.
Fusco was a bit stunned. "Hey, I've taken a big risk getting this much information. That female reporter might visit Leah again tomorrow and get the account book's location from him.
But that FBI agent is keeping a close eye on her. I've done my best. You can handle the rest yourself. We're even now."
"Got it. I'll tell the boss for you." Simmons fell silent. Just when Fusco thought he was about to hang up, his voice came back through the receiver, the stiffness in his tone noticeable.
"Lenard (Fusco), are you familiar with the block in front of the Fulton Street subway station downtown that connects directly to Pearl Street?"
Fusco was stunned. This unexpected question made him look up at the crowd gathered before him. Jack nodded slightly, his finger circling the air, signaling him to continue.
"Of course. I used to patrol that area when I was a patrol officer. It's a quiet neighborhood with not many stores nearby. What's going on?"
"Of course it's about that psychiatrist. She works downtown and often leaves the office late at night. She takes the same route home every night. I need you to help me find an excuse to divert the patrol cars there."
Although Simmons' tone was still threatening, this time there was an unexpected hint of asking for favors.
"Let me try. When?" Fusco deliberately teased Joe.
"Tomorrow at midnight, I'll let you know the specific time. Don't forget, you're paid for this."
As the call ended, Fusco was confused. "What the hell is this guy doing? He still hasn't forgotten to execute the wanted order at this time?"
"Simmons Patrick's wife has booked a trip to Bermuda for herself and her two children tomorrow morning." Alice turned her laptop screen to the crowd.
(End of this chapter)