“During a robbery, but that’s different. This was premeditated. An ambush.”
The door opened. Granger strode to the table and pulled back the leather-cushioned chair next to Field. He touched his shoulder in a gesture of support, or possibly consolation, as he sat down. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Good evening, Patrick,” Biers said warmly, as if greeting a favored son. Field noticed that both Macleod and Caprisi avoided Granger’s eyes.
Granger loosened his tie, unbuttoned his collar, and stretched his long legs. He was smartly dressed in a dark three-piece suit, a gold watch at his waist.
“Perhaps you could give us your assessment, Caprisi,” Biers said, “as the senior officer.”
The American detective leaned forward, his elbows on the table. He glanced at Macleod, then Field. “Chen’s all right. We’ve taken him to the Hopital Ste.-Marie.”
“I meant about the events tonight.”
Granger lit a cigarette. He offered the silver case to Field, but no one else, then got up and brought back an ashtray.
“They were waiting for us. The machines were still hot. They’d left in a hurry.”
“They knew you were coming?”
“Yes.”
There was a long silence; the only sound was Granger sucking in smoke, then blowing it out into the air above them.
The commissioner appeared to be in a trance.
Macleod leaned forward. He seemed calmer. “The question is, what have we done to attract such a response? Is it the murder investigation, or the notes that implicate the factory? And who knew that we were going to the factory today?” He turned to Field. “Did you tell anyone?”
Field shook his head.
“After you left us in Crime, you went straight out?”
“No, I went up briefly to see Mr. Granger, but—”
“He certainly didn’t mention the visit to me, or I’d have told him to be more careful.” Granger looked around, reprimanding them for their naivete. Macleod and Caprisi stared at Field, as if daring him to contradict his boss.
He said nothing, his jaw clenched.
Field recalled that he had also told Natasha they were going to the factory. He tried to remember the exact words he’d used.
He found it impossible to accept the idea that she could betray his confidence.
“So from this side, no one knew of the impending visit,” the commissioner said.
“I knew of it,” Macleod said. “And Caprisi. No one else.”
There was another silence as Granger stubbed out his cigarette and pushed the ashtray toward the middle of the table. “There’s Chen,” he said.
“He would never tell anyone,” Caprisi said. “He’s smarter than that.”
“How can you be so sure?” Granger asked.
Caprisi glared at him but made no attempt to respond. Granger had kicked this subject into the one guaranteed gray area—the true loyalties of the Chinese detectives on the force—and Field could see that it had infuriated the men opposite him. Upon reflection, it enraged him, too. Chen was a good man and he was in hospital.
Biers ran a hand over his head and smoothed the few hairs that remained there. Field met Macleod’s steady gaze. It seemed, suddenly, vitally important that this man and not Granger become the next commissioner.
“The next question,” Macleod said, “is what are we going to do about it?” He looked first at the commissioner, then Granger. “This man is no more than a gangster. He’s murdered a girl in our jurisdiction, or covered up for the man who has; he’s removed a perfectly innocent doorman and had him executed; and now he’s made a brazen raid on our men as they went about their duty. And all in the space of five days.”
The commissioner nodded, unconvincingly.
“We have to teach him a lesson. We cannot let this situation continue.”
There was another long silence. Granger lit another cigarette; Biers fiddled with his pen. Field looked at his reflection in the tabletop.
“How do you propose to go about this?” Granger asked.
“We have to find evidence,” Macleod said. “We do it the old-fashioned way. We build a case, we get evidence, we lure him into this part of the city and arrest him.”
“Easy.”
“We are making progress, but I think it’s important that we acknowledge now that this is our aim.”
Field looked up. Macleod was staring at him again.
“We must make sure information is tightly controlled, so that there are no further leaks.” Macleod turned toward Granger.
