The arrival of the Port Authority Police is never subtle. It was a cacophony of sirens, the heavy slam of cruiser doors, and the harsh glare of spotlights cutting through the gathering dusk.
Two cruisers pulled up right behind the blockage, their lights reflecting off the twisted red metal of the fallen container. I sat in my truck, hands on the steering wheel at ten and two, waiting.
Derek was there instantly, practically dragging the first officer toward my vehicle. It was Officer Davis. I knew Davis. He was a good man, a twenty-year veteran who had worked the dock’s detail long enough to know the difference between a bad day and a bad criminal.
Derek pounded on my window. «That’s him! That’s the maniac! Get him out of there!»
I rolled down the window slowly. The cold harbor air rushed in, smelling of exhaust and impending rain.
«Evening, Frank,» Davis said, ignoring Derek’s screaming. He leaned down, his eyes scanning the interior of my cab. «Quite a mess you made out there. Traffic is backed up to the interstate.»
«Evening, Officer Davis,» I replied calmly. «Accidents happen.»
«Accident?» Derek shrieked. «He did it on purpose! He was drunk. I fired him for being intoxicated on the job, and he retaliated by destroying the exit. I want a breathalyzer test right now!»
Davis looked at Derek, then back at me. «Is that true, Frank? You’ve been drinking?»
«Not a drop,» I said. «Officer Davis, Walker here fired me for refusing to bypass a safety lockout on the crane. He invented the drinking charge to cover his tracks with the union.»
«Liar!» Derek yelled. «Test him!»
Davis sighed. He pulled a breathalyzer unit from his belt. «Standard procedure in an industrial accident, Frank. Step out of the vehicle, please.»
I stepped out. The asphalt was cold under my boots. A crowd of drivers and dockworkers had gathered at the perimeter, watching the show. I blew into the tube until it beeped.
Davis checked the readout. «Uh-oh,» he read aloud. He turned the screen toward Derek. «He’s stone-cold sober, Mr. Walker.»
Derek blinked, his face flushing a deep, ugly red. «He… He must be on drugs, then. Pills. You need to take him to the station for a blood test.»
«I’m not arresting a man for 0.00,» Davis said, his voice hardening. «Now, about moving this container. We need a heavy wrecker. But first, we need that crane moved. It’s swinging in the wind.»
«I can’t move it,» Derek stammered. «He threw the keys in the ocean.»
Davis looked at me.
I just shrugged. «Slipped out of my hand while I was packing up. Terrible luck.»
Davis looked up at the towering crane, then at the blocked exit, then at the impossible traffic jam. He rubbed his temples.
«All right. If the keys are gone, we need a locksmith or a tech from the manufacturer. That’s going to take hours. In the meantime, nobody leaves.»
«This is unacceptable!» Derek shouted. «I have cargo that needs to move!»
«Nobody is moving anything, Mr. Walker,» Davis said firmly. «This is now an active accident investigation scene. I’m calling in the Commercial Vehicle Enforcement team to inspect the damage to the road and the container.»
At the word inspect, Derek went rigid. It was a subtle reaction, a stiffening of his shoulders, but I saw it. He looked at the split seam of the container, then back at the police officer.
«That won’t be necessary,» Derek said, his voice suddenly dropping half an octave. «It’s just scrap metal, company property. I’ll handle the cleanup internally. We don’t need enforcement poking around.»
«Road’s damaged,» Davis said, taking out his notepad. «County property. They inspect everything. Procedure.»
Derek looked like he was about to vomit.
I was allowed to return to my truck while Davis coordinated traffic control. I wasn’t under arrest, but I wasn’t free to leave either. I was in limbo.
My phone buzzed in the cup holder. It was a text from August: Secure line. Call me.
I put the phone to my ear, keeping my head down. «I’m here.»
«I’m in the system,» August’s voice came through, crisp and fast. «Frank, you really stepped in it this time. But you stepped in something good. What did you find?»
«I pulled the digital manifest for container 404-Bravo,» August said. «According to the official log submitted to the Port Authority, that box is filled with class C recycled steel shavings, gross weight 18,000 pounds.»
«The crane scale read 42,000 pounds when I lifted it,» I said. «I felt the weight. That wasn’t shavings.»
«Exactly,» August said. «But here’s where it gets interesting. I traced the shipping destination. It’s not going to a recycling center. It’s tagged for a shell company in Malaysia that, according to my quick check, doesn’t actually have a recycling facility. It’s an electronics importer.»
I glanced out the window. Derek was pacing frantically by the police cruiser, making a phone call. He was sweating despite the chill in the air.
«So he’s smuggling copper?» I asked.
«Better,» August said. «I cross-referenced the company’s internal inventory. You know that massive retrofit project on the north side? The one the company just finished?»
«Yeah, the data center job.»
«They reported a loss due to theft last week. Two million dollars worth of high-grade copper cabling and server blades. They claimed it was stolen from the site by gangs.»
The pieces clicked together in my head.
«Derek didn’t report it stolen because gangs took it. He took it. He stole his own company’s inventory, wrote it off as a loss for the insurance money, and is now shipping the stolen goods out of the country to sell them again,» August explained. «Insurance fraud, plus the black market sale. That container is the smoking gun, Frank.»
«And I just dropped it right in front of the cops,» I said, a slow smile spreading across my face.
«You didn’t just drop it,» August laughed. «You gift-wrapped it. But listen to me, Iron. Derek knows that container is a time bomb. He’s going to try to make a deal with you. He needs that crane moved so he can hide the evidence before the inspectors open that door. Do not let him move that crane.»
«I can’t,» I reminded him. «Keys are swimming with the fishes.»
«Good. Keep it that way. I’m ten minutes out. I’m bringing a friend from the district attorney’s office who owes me a favor. Just stall him.»
«Stalling is what I do best,» I said.
Five minutes later, the knock on the window came. It wasn’t the police. It was Derek.
He had composed himself. The panic was gone, replaced by a slick, oily veneer of professionalism. He signaled for me to roll down the window. I lowered it two inches.
«Frank,» he said. His voice was soft, almost friendly. It was terrifying. «Look, we got off on the wrong foot today.»
«He fired me for following a law, Derek,» I said.
«I know, I know. It’s been a stressful week. Corporate is breathing down my neck about quotas. I snapped. I apologize.»
He paused, waiting for me to accept the apology. I stared at him.
«Here’s the thing,» Derek continued, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. «This investigation? It’s going to be bad for everyone. Bad for the company. Bad for the port. Bad for you. If the feds get involved, they’ll tie up your pension for years in litigation.»
«I can wait,» I said.
«But you don’t have to,» Derek said. He reached into his jacket pocket. I tensed, but he didn’t pull a weapon. He pulled out a checkbook.
«I can make this all go away, Frank. I can tell the officers I authorized the drop. A training exercise gone wrong. No harm, no foul. And the firing rescinded,» Derek said quickly. «You’re rehired. With a raise. Hell, I’ll give you a bonus. Ten thousand dollars, right now. Just tell them you have a spare key. Tell them you can move the crane. Let me get my crew to clean up this mess before the inspectors open that box.»
He was desperate. He was offering me a bribe right there in the parking lot, under the floodlights. He thought everyone had a price. He thought that because I wore a hard hat and drove an old truck, I was hungry enough to eat from his hand.
«You really are scared of what’s in that box, aren’t you?» I asked quietly.
Derek’s smile faltered. «It’s just scrap, Frank. But paperwork is a hassle. You know how it is.»
«I know that 404-Bravo weighs 40,000 pounds, Derek,» I said. «And I know scrap doesn’t sparkle like copper.»
Derek went still. The fake friendliness evaporated instantly. His eyes went dead.
«You don’t know what you’re messing with, old man,» he hissed. «You think you’re a hero? I can bury you. I can make sure you never work again. I can make sure your wife loses her health insurance.»