“I see. Well…the chief is concerned things may escalate between you and Ibn Azziz, and it’s the police who are going to look bad. I mean, we’re supposed to keep the peace.”

“Jerry Edson doesn’t care about the peace, he only cares about keeping his job. Which he shall, as long as his father remains head of the Senate Appropriations Committee.”

Colarusso rubbed his forehead. “I can’t argue with you there, sir, but I have to work for the asshole. Could I maybe tell him that you deplore the violence and are going to do what you can to find out who is responsible?”

“Headache, Detective?”

“Off and on.”

“I have them all the time. I wake up in the middle of the night lately…I think it’s raining because I hear thunder, and it’s my head. My housekeeper says I should go to a doctor, but once you start going to doctors, there’s no end to the tests.”

“Why don’t we go inside?” said Colarusso, shivering. He had buttoned his topcoat unevenly and ignored it. “I’m freezing my ass off.”

“I prefer it out here,” said Redbeard, comfortable somehow in a plain woolen robe. He pointed to the downed jumbo jet. “Were you living in Seattle when the plane hit?”

“My wife and I were in Hawaii celebrating our fifth wedding anniversary. Seems like a long time ago.”

“It was twenty-three years in March. Eleven hundred on board, most of them still right there.” Redbeard’s expression was unreadable. “We put out the story that it was hijacked by a Brazilian end-times cult, but, of course, that wasn’t true.”

“Hijackers weren’t trying to ram the Capitol dome? Or that it wasn’t an end-times cult?”

“I used to come out here all the time with Rakkim and Sarah,” said Redbeard, eyeing the wreckage. The metal was still shiny, at least from a distance.

Colarusso didn’t ask any more questions about the hijacking. Redbeard was using a bait-and-switch tactic to knock him off-balance, offering secret information, withholding it at the last moment.

“The first time Sarah saw the plane, she asked me why all the national monuments seemed to be celebrating death. Where were the monuments to scientific discoveries or poetry or medical breakthroughs? That’s what she wanted to know. She was seven at the time. Rakkim was twelve. You want to know what he said? He looked at the tail assembly jutting out of the water at almost a ninety-degree angle and told me the pilot had taken too steep a descent. He said it was impossible to maintain rudder control that way. Rakkim said the pilot should have come in low, almost horizontal, and then rammed the Capitol.” Redbeard shook his head. “Twelve years old.”

Colarusso wondered if he dared to go back inside and leave Redbeard out here.

“I hear your son has been accepted into the Fedayeen?” said Redbeard.

Colarusso nodded. Surprised.

“Stings a little, doesn’t it?” said Redbeard. “I felt the same way when Rakkim was accepted. It’s a great honor, of course, but I’m sure you had other plans for him. Following you into the force, perhaps.”

“There’s no future for a Catholic in the department. Catholic’s lucky to make detective.”

“Still, I’m sure you had your dreams for Anthony Jr.” Redbeard looked past the tail assembly. “I had dreams for Rakkim. Dreams for Sarah too. Dreams for myself. Getting older…mostly it entails accepting the unacceptable.”

“Ain’t that the God’s honest truth?” Colarusso caught himself. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be so familiar.”

“No offense taken, Detective. We’re just a couple of old men here, talking about things that might have been.”

Colarusso kept quiet. He had been a cop too long to trust a powerful man going all soft and sentimental.

“Rakkim is fortunate to have a friend like you,” said Redbeard. “It’s been quite some time since he’s confided in me.”

Colarusso stifled a smile. When you think the worst of people, you’re rarely disappointed.

“I sent Rakkim to find my niece. He succeeded. With all the men at my disposal, with all my experience and connections, he found her when I couldn’t.”

“You trained him well. Must give you comfort.”

“To hell with comfort, I want my niece. Where are they?”

Colarusso leaned against the railing, watched the waves break against the fuselage of the jumbo jet. “I don’t know.”

“I could threaten you, Detective. I could tell you that with a nod of my head, drugs would be found in your house. Or evidence that you had been colluding with Jews. There’s an infinite amount of ways to destroy a man’s life, and I know them all.” Redbeard stood with his feet wide. “I wouldn’t do that though. I have too much respect for you. If Rakkim considers you a friend, it’s because he knows you won’t yield to threats. I just have to look at you and I can see that.”

“You going to kiss me before you fuck me, Redbeard?”

Redbeard laughed, a hearty roar that ended with coughing. He bent forward until it stopped. Stood up, face flushed. “I wish I had a friend like you, Detective. A man in my position isn’t allowed that kind of luxury. He is allowed family though. I never had children, but I thought I had family.”

“You got one. I heard Rakkim talk often enough to know that. You were as close to a daddy as he could stand.”

“Yes…thank you for that.” Redbeard turned as the ferry finished its orbit of the downed jet, started back to port. “After Rakkim asked for you to lead the Warriq homicides, I’ve had you under surveillance. The only time you made an effort to elude a tail was last week. You ducked into the men’s department of Kingdom of Heaven and slipped away when my man thought you were in the changing room.”

“I can’t afford that place on my salary anyway.”

“Exactly what I told him. A lesson I’m certain he’s learned.” Redbeard smiled. “I didn’t particularly mind your disappearance. I assumed you were meeting with Rakkim. It was confirmation that he and Sarah were still in the area, which was always my expectation. The capital is familiar turf for them, with all the attendant human networks and hidey-holes. Even so, I had my men monitor any curious developments around the country. Odd occurrences. Rumors. Disappearances. I’ve resisted putting their security profiles into the system for fear of alerting others. I’m sure you understand.”

“Yeah.” Colarusso pulled at his bulbous nose. It itched. “Once they’re in the system, it’s open season.”

Redbeard wiped the edges of his mouth with a fingertip. “Late last night something odd came to my attention. Eight police officers were killed in the line of duty last night in Orange County, California. SWAT team members. Full gear. All dead. No arrests. The PD clamped down on the story. Then this morning, the official line is that it was an undercover drug sting gone bad.”

“It happens.”

“Six geared-up SWAT officers down? How often does that happen? Last night there was no one but cops dead at the scene, and this morning there’s a morgue full of the usual suspects.” Redbeard raked a hand through his beard. “I haven’t been able to get a look at autopsy reports on the officers, not yet, but when I do, I’ll bet you dollars to doughnuts that they were killed with a knife, a well-trained knife.” Redbeard looked at Colarusso. “I don’t know where Rakkim and Sarah are, but someone does. Someone who means them harm.”

Colarusso stared back at him.

Redbeard turned away. “When we get back to shore, feel free to check what I’ve told you. I wouldn’t want you to feel foolish.”

Colarusso watched Redbeard’s robe flap in the wind. Good interrogators blindsided you. They came at you from a direction you didn’t expect. Or they were polite when you were expecting bluster. The best ones didn’t even ask the big question. They simply laid out a situation and let you decide if you wanted to help. Redbeard was the best Colarusso had ever encountered. “They’re in Southern California. I don’t know where exactly, but I worked out a bounce itinerary that ended up at Bin Laden. I don’t know what they’re after. Rakkim wouldn’t tell me.”