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I HAD TO recruit help immediately. This was way too much for Rob Trilling and me to handle by ourselves. First, I drafted a detective from our squad to sit in the conference room with Kevin Doyle. I told him to sit at the other end of the conference table. And not to engage him in conversation but to stay alert. I wasn’t taking any chances with a former Green Beret who had already proven he really did know multiple ways to kill someone.

Trilling asked, “What do we do next?”

“Our problem is keeping this quiet. Celeste Cantor knows everyone at One Police Plaza. The Land Sharks were a popular unit. I’m worried about someone making an offhand comment that could blow the whole case against her.”

“How do we get around that?”

I smiled. “I’ve already called in some help.”

“I thought Hernandez was on another homicide. Who’d you call?”

“Dennis Wu in Internal Affairs.”

Trilling looked unconvinced. He knew how much enthusiasm Dennis Wu had shown for pinning our recent sniper case on him. Trilling had felt like the Internal Affairs detective sergeant only wanted to make an arrest and it didn’t matter who. I understood his concerns.

“Look, I’m not happy about working with Wu either. And I know he’s a dick. But we need help, and I know for a fact he’s salivating at the chance to make a case against an inspector.”

That seemed to satisfy Trilling, though he still wasn’t thrilled about it. I started to consider all the options we had to make a case. Clearly, the most effective and efficient method would be to set up a meeting between Kevin Doyle and his cousin, Celeste Cantor. We’d have a transmitter on Doyle and see if Cantor made any incriminating statements during the conversation.

A lot could go wrong with that plan. We’d have to let Doyle loose in public. Even if we had twenty people to cover wherever we held the meeting, the man was still a threat, and a flight risk. This is a calculation made for all active police investigations: safety versus success. Doyle had agreed to help, and it felt like he would honor his pledge. But once he was uncuffed and in public, a guy with his skills could raise holy hell.

The flip side of that was the target of our investigation now: Celeste Cantor. She was a veteran cop who had been involved in hundreds of undercover meetings over the years. She’d smell a rat a mile away. And there was no telling what she’d do if she realized she was cornered.

So I sat at my desk wondering what was going to cause me more heartburn: a crooked cop or a former Green Beret who had just admitted to a boatload of murders. I wished we could use the Emergency Service Unit, but that risked the possibility of Celeste Cantor somehow hearing about it.

As I kept going through it in my mind, the front door to our office opened and in walked IA Detective Sergeant Dennis Wu. Great. I glanced over at Trilling sitting a desk away. The young officer rarely showed strong emotion, but I would describe the glare he gave Wu as “malevolent.” That felt like a good word for the situation.

I nodded to Wu as he navigated the office. He was wearing his usual dark suit, though his perfect hair was a little out of alignment. I thought it had more to do with his excitement at taking down an inspector than anything else. Maybe that was how he’d made it to the office in record time. He gave off the vibe of a ten-year-old on his birthday.

He stopped a few feet from my desk and said, “If this is a prank, it’s not funny.”

I said, “Dennis, in what world would I entice you to come to our office for a laugh?”

Wu looked over at Trilling and said, “No hard feelings about the sniper case?”

Trilling didn’t acknowledge Wu’s existence. That was savage. I had to hide a smile.

Wu said, “I want to meet this contract killer and hear your plan before I agree to anything.”

“I don’t need you to agree. We need help, but if you’re not the right person for it, I’ll find someone else.”

Wu considered it for a full ten seconds. Then he nodded his head and said, “You’re the one on the hook for this if things go bad. I guess I can go along for the ride.” He looked around the office, then turned back to me. “Why did you call me in? I’m just curious.”

“I called you because you’re an asshole. But you’re an asshole with no connection to the Land Sharks and I know you’re straight-up. All the time.”

Wu gave me a satisfied smile. “I appreciate all of that. Thank you.”