Page 72 of Sinner's Storm
Montana frowned. “No. Who the fuck is that?”
“Did some digging myself. Seems during 9/11 this club wasn’t just out there to help find survivors. The club, specifically George and the Rejects, were looking for a man named Mirage.”
“Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like what you say next?”
“Because you’re not. Mirage also went by Alexander Goldman. The son of Xavier Goldman, the original founder of the Golden Skulls.”
“Jesus fuck,” Montana grumbled. “What the hell is it with that damn fucking club?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. Just so there is clear transparency. David Campbell, Delany’s dad, was born David Campbell Goldman. The youngest son of Xaiver Goldman. My wife is a direct descendant of the original founder.”
“Do I want to know where you got this information?”
“Not particularly,” I muttered as Montana shook his head, smirking. Even he had to admit that Sypher was damn good.
The young man could find dirt on God himself if he wanted to.
“Did the fucking kid at least leave you a file?”
Reaching into my pocket, I produced a thumb drive. “Better. Sypher gave me this. Said everything we need is on here.”
“Give it to Pippen.”
“You might want to reconsider that.”
“Why?”
“Because Sypher also found information that your dad was a member of the Society. If the board finds out, it will cause an uproar. We may disagree with the Golden Skulls on a lot of shit, but we are all in accord when it comes to the Society.”
“You think my dad had something to do with David Campbell’s investigation and death, don’t you?”
“More than that. I know your dad was working with the Society to bring down the Golden Skulls. My wife isn’t the problem. Sypher said we won’t have a problem until Reaper takes the chair. We need to take care of this before he tells him.”
Before Montana could reply, the boardroom door opened, and Pippen stuck his head in. “Sorry to interrupt, but we have a problem. The police are here. I mean, everywhere. They found a body at the dock.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Robin
“Tape off the entire area!” Bassinger shouted at the police officers as I looked around the pier. Talk about one of the worst places to dump a body.
Finding any viable evidence was going to be impossible.
“Where is the body?” I asked, walking over to my partner. We were out getting something to eat when the call came over the radio. As one of the first to arrive, we quickly took control of the scene, ordering the officers to form a perimeter. I wasn’t taking any chances with this crime scene. If there was even one speck of evidence, I wanted it found, catalogued, and under lock and key.
Since my talk with the captain, the pressure to find this monster was riding me hard. I too wanted the fucker found, but I wasn’t going to arrest just anyone. Unlike Norwich, who kept the precinct busy with the intake of homeless men, that I knew had nothing to do with these murders.
No, my gut was telling me it was someone else.
Someone highly intelligent.
Someone with the means and ability to continue his sadistic delights for a long time to come.
“Hey, Calloway. Come look at this,” Bassinger yelled, getting my attention.
“What?” I asked when my partner pointed to one of the light posts that ran along the pier. “Wanna tell me why there is a security camera on the pier?”
“Got me,” I muttered, looking around, only seeing the dilapidated warehouses. “Anymore?”