Middle Of Nowhere

   "I don't know if it will do you any good, just seeing a car pull into the garage. I've got the one with the actual business going down, and it stays with me. I don't think they're too worried about that other one. A couple cops coming and going. Where's the foul? But you, Lou. Maybe you can make something out of it."

   "Maybe so," Boldt said, glancing at LaMoia, who was already wearing a grin.

C H A P T E R

65

Boldt climbed the steps of the Pendegrass home with difficulty, due to the walking cast. In his hand, he nervously wormed the keys to the Crown Vic and the black remote that opened the doors or trunk. In his left hand he carried a videotape.

   In a quick shuffle, he had sent Liz and the kids across town to stay at the Four Seasons for the night, promising his wife it was only as a precaution. Liz loved the Four Seasons. She had accepted the request surprisingly calmly, despite the late hour. Boldt took this as a sign they were on the mend. He climbed the steps hoping that he and LaMoia and Daphne had prepared for any and every eventuality, knowing full well that one never could. There were always holes in any plan, especially those made hastily.

   He drew in a deep breath and knocked sharply on the door.

   Pendegrass answered. He wore those same Air Nikes that Boldt remembered only too well. The two men stared at each other.

   "So?" Pendegrass finally said.

   Boldt held up the videotape for the man to see. "I couldn't talk Chapman out of his, and I never will. So I guess if you're set on that tape, then whatever you've got of my Denver trip goes out to whoever you plan on seeing it."

   "And this?" Pendegrass asked, eyeing the tape in Boldt's hand.

   "This is the one you overlooked. Even I.I. overlooked its importance. This is the one that's going to hang you once I get it to SID for analysis. This is what you want to trade for, whether you know it or not. It's the original. If you had me followed from Chapman's then you know I went back downtown. This is why. This tape. I substituted a Mister Rogers for it. You think anyone will ever notice? Not a chance. Because I.I. doesn't understand the importance of the second tape."

   "As if I know what you're talking about."

   "You think I'm wearing a wire? Is that it?" He raised his arms, still sore all over. "Search me. Go ahead."

   "I'll pass. Whatever it is you're trying to do, nice try, Boldt."

   "You've got a VCR," Boldt stated. "Five minutes. Give me five minutes." He waved the tape. "It's a real eye-opener."

   An impatient Pendegrass considered this and finally stepped back from the door, admitting Boldt, who inside was a nervous wreck. If Pendegrass had slammed the door in his face, it might never have worked.

   The TV occupied a tabletop in a cluttered living room that smelled of cigarettes. Pendegrass's wife looked in on them, but the man waved her away and she closed the door tightly, a concerned look overtaking her tired face.

   Boldt handed the man the tape and remained standing. He identified the VCR's remote, and pocketing his own keys, took control. This had been Daphne's suggestion: Maintain control over the physical environment.

   "The way I figure it," Boldt explained, "you and the others didn't think there was much to fear from the second security video—the one set up to record the entrance." Boldt pressed a button on the remote. The television showed a grainy black-and-white security video of SPD's parking garage. "But I'm telling you, you underestimate Bernie Lofgrin."

   Pendegrass maintained a look of confidence, though Boldt had to believe there were cracks.

   "There are three men visible in that car. You in the passenger seat, Riorden driving, and Smythe in the back," Boldt said, advancing the tape to the place where Detective Andrew Smythe's face showed clearly through the vehicle's backseat window. "You want me to keep going?"

   "We come and go at all hours. All of us do. Yourself included. This proves what?"

   "Your car went down to level two . . ." he advanced the tape, "as can be clearly seen."

   "I don't know where you're going with this, Boldt, but this proves absolutely nothing. Zero."

   "I'm not going anywhere with this," Boldt corrected. "It's Bernie Lofgrin you should be worried about. The guy's a wizard. You see this post right here?" Boldt pointed to the freeze frame of the car on the screen. "It's been scratched a dozen times by cars clipping it too close. For Lofgrin, it's going to be all about those scratches. They ended up like marks on a measuring stick running up the wall."

   Now Pendegrass looked concerned. Any cop knew well enough to fear the things the lab could do.