“Three misses and one hit,” I said with a sigh. “I’m not sure we’re looking at the same gunmen here.”
Siegel peered back and forth between the river and Tambour’s body several times. “Maybe they were firing from a boat of some kind. There’s a decent chop out there today. Could explain the multiple shots, the misses.”
“There’s no cover on the open water,” I said, “and all kinds of risk for an eyewitness. Besides, it’s always been one shot, one kill with these guys. They don’t miss.”
“The sniper’s motto,” Siegel said. “What about it?”
“I think it’s a point of pride for them. If nothing else, the work’s been immaculate. Up until now.”
“So it’s more likely that we have another wackjob with a high-powered sniper rifle running around out there?”
I could just hear the disdain rising in his voice. Here we go again.
“Isn’t that exactly the contingency your office has been working on?” I said. “That’s what Patel told me — at the meeting you blew off.”
“I see.” Siegel rocked back on his heels. “So are you working up any theories of your own these days — or just going by what you overhear at the office?”
My guess was that he felt threatened by me, and it helped him if he could goad me into some kind of unprofessional behavior. I’d already put a toe in, but I pulled back now and focused on the ground around Tambour’s body instead.
When it became clear I wasn’t going to respond, he tried again from a different angle.
“You know, it’s possible these guys are just that good,” he said casually. “Terrorism One Oh One, right? Best way to stay ahead of the police is to keep everything unpredictable. That’s a valid perspective on this, right?”
“I’m not ruling anything out,” I said without turning around.
“That’s good,” he said. “It’s good that you learn from your mistakes. I mean, isn’t that what tripped you up with Kyle Craig?”
Now I did look up.
“He basically just outthought you, right? Just kept changing up his game? I mean — that’s what he’s still doing, isn’t it? Even today?” Siegel shrugged. “Or am I getting that wrong, too?”
“You know what, Max? Just — stop talking.” I stood up to face him now, getting closer than I needed to be. I wasn’t trying to “manage” Siegel anymore. I just needed to say what I was going to say.
“Whatever issues these are that you need to work through, I can recommend some professionals. But in the meantime, if you haven’t noticed, we lost an officer here today. Show a little respect.”
I guess I’d given him the rise he was looking for. Siegel took a step back, but still kept that obnoxious grin on his face. It was as if he always had some kind of private joke going on.
“Fair enough,” he said, and motioned over his shoulder. “I’ll just be over here if you need me.”
“I won’t need you,” I said, and went right back to work.
Chapter 64
BY NINE O’CLOCK, I’d had an emergency phone call with the Bureau Directorate and the Field Intelligence Group; a briefing with the mayor’s office; and a separate report-in with my own team from MPD, who were all on the scene by now.
The important question at this point was whether we were dealing with the Patriot snipers or someone else. Ballistics was the fastest way to prove a connection, if there was one, and Cailin Jerger from the FBI lab in Quantico was brought out by chopper for a consult.
It was an amazing sight, watching the black Bell helicopter come in for a landing right there on the deserted parkway.
I ran out to greet the chopper and walk Jerger back in.
She was in jeans and a hooded Quantico sweatshirt; they probably pulled her right out of her living room. You’d never guess to look at this small, unassuming woman that she knew more about firearms examination than anyone in a three-state radius.
When I showed her where Tambour had gone down, and the spread on the four shots, she looked back at me with a knowing glance. I didn’t respond at all, not a word. I wanted Jerger to draw her own, unfettered conclusions.
At the evidence tent, the whole world was waiting for us. Outside, there was a crowd of cops and agents, including most of Tambour’s unit from NSID. Inside, we found Chief Perkins, Jim Heekin from the Directorate, Max Siegel, various assistant chiefs from MPD and assistant SACs from the Bureau, and a few reps from ATF. Jerger looked around at the sea of expectant faces and then dove right in as if she and I were the only ones there.
Each of the four slugs was bagged separately on a long folding table. Three of them were in relatively good shape; the fourth was badly mangled, for obvious reasons.