The Penitent One (Boston Crime Thriller Book 3), Brian Shea [best non fiction books of all time .TXT] 📗

what about Phillip Smalls, the rapist we found dead during the Wilson case? He had the same mark on his left hand.”

A third picture popped up on the screen in line with the rest. All three hands bore the distinctive X on the outside web.

"Tell me what it means, then," Mainelli said.

"I don't have a clue. All I know is we have three unsolved murders with one glaring connection. We need some fresh perspective on this."

"And that's why we've brought in some help," a voice grumbled from The Depot’s door as it opened. Sergeant Sutherland surveyed the room, taking in the screen, the papers strewn across the table, and the notes on the whiteboard.

Behind him stood a clean-cut, athletically built man Kelly didn’t recognize.

"Team, I'd like to introduce FBI Special Agent Sterling Gray."

Kelly heard Mainelli curse quietly under his breath. Seeing the agent was like the nail in the coffin for his partner. With the FBI getting involved this late in the day, he now knew he wouldn’t be going home anytime soon. Kelly watched as this prospect sank into Mainelli, completely sucking the wind out of his partner's sails until he had deflated like a punctured helium balloon.

"Hi, guys," Sterling said in a casual manner. His accent sounded as though he might be from the Southwest, or maybe even Texas. Hard to tell, but one thing was for certain: he definitely didn’t grow up local.

Kelly had come to know many of the local FBI agents within the Boston network of task forces, but he was unfamiliar with Gray. His first guess was this was an out-of-towner.

"I'm not trying to take over your scene, your case,” Sterling said. “This is your baby. I understand that, and the FBI does too."

"Then why are you here?" Kelly asked, exhaustion adding an unintended edge of frustration to his voice. "If you're not here to take over, then why is the FBI getting involved with the case?"

It was Sutherland who answered. "Media is already swirling into a real shit storm, Mike. They're breathing down the mayor's neck. And it’s starting to roll downhill. Everybody wants an answer. This murder has the community up in arms. It's not every day that a priest is executed, and within the confines of a church to boot. It's got people unnerved, unhinged. So we're doing everything we can to show the people of Boston we're taking this seriously. We’re bringing in all the heavy hitters and every resource at our disposal, one of which happens to be the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Do we have a problem, Mike?"

Sergeant Dale Sutherland rarely spoke so forcefully, but it wasn't the first time Kelly had seen him bend to the power and strength of the command staff. Most recently, the sergeant had turned a blind eye to the politics that polluted Kelly’s investigation into a rogue undercover. It left him with a sour taste in his mouth with regards to Sutherland, but more importantly, some of the senior brass at the department. None of his personal misgivings changed the fact that a priest was murdered in his neighborhood. He was going to make sure he did everything in his power to bring about justice for that terrible wrong.

And at this point, as he stared at the board and the markings on the three victims with their similarities but no connection, he was desperate for some assistance, whether he openly admitted it or not. Kelly was secretly interested in seeing what the FBI had to offer.

"Like I said," Agent Gray offered, softening the aggressive introduction by Kelly's direct supervisor, "I'm not here to step on any toes. I know how Boston PD handles their cases. Your Homicide unit is top-notch and I’m just happy to have an opportunity to lend a hand. The resources of the FBI are at your disposal. Hopefully, it will help bring about a quick end to this case and give your community the closure it deserves."

Community, Kelly thought. What does this guy know about the neighborhood? He didn't grow up there. He doesn't know what it's like. He doesn't have the connection to the people and places. He's not a hometown boy. He's not a townie. His motivations had to be purely political. Maybe he was a rising star in the FBI, and this was his way to get the face time he needed to climb the next rung. Or maybe he was considered an expert in this type of investigation. Whatever the reason, Kelly wasn't confident Gray would bring about much of a change in the course of things, but at this point, something was better than nothing.

"Okay, Agent Gray, welcome to the team,” he said.

"It's Sterling. Feel free to drop the ‘agent’ stuff. No need for it."

Kelly couldn’t have agreed more and hearing the bureau man say it immediately improved his opinion of him. Rank was a hinderance to an investigation and held cops back from speaking plainly. It muddied the waters.

Gray looked at the three images on the monitor. "I might be able to help with those."

Kelly's interest was piqued.

"Before you get into all that, a press conference is about to begin,” Sutherland said.

“Son of a bitch,” Mainelli hissed, throwing his head back and staring at the ceiling.

Sutherland cleared his throat loudly. “Jimmy, are you volunteering to speak? I know how much you like talking to the press.”

Mainelli reset himself, leaning forward on an open case file atop the conference table.

“It’s being held in the community room. When the brass delivers their message, they want the face of Boston Homicide standing alongside the FBI. So best get yourselves cleaned up." Sutherland added a wry smile. "You're going to be on camera."

Kelly rolled his eyes. The thought of standing in front of a crew of reporters never jived with him, but it made even less sense at this point in an investigation. He didn’t do the job for the accolades or publicity. He did it for the sole purpose of delivering justice to those who