BioKill by Stuart Handley

He was in a jovial mood as Lilburn strapped himself in the chopper.
    “Don’t worry, Gracie darlin’,” said the pilot, caressing the instrument panel of the cockpit. “She wasn’t as good as you.”
    “Glad someone had a good night.”
    “I told you, you should have come out with me. Albany?”
    “Albany.”
    Just as the pilot was about to start the engine, there was a sudden knocking on Lilburn’s door.
    “We have a breakthrough,” blurted Inspector Gibbons as Lilburn opened the helicopter door. “Fifteenth Precinct, where we picked up the Imam, just got in touch; two of their officers have reported talking to a Syrian, one of the officers noted seeing a stamp on a empty parcel which he identified as coming from Syria.”
    Lilburn had started undoing his seat belt the moment he heard the word Syrian; by the time the inspector had mentioned Syria again, Lilburn was pushing him aside as he disembarked.
    “I was going to take the scenic route back to Albany,” the pilot yelled out as his passenger started running. “OK then,” talking to himself, “maybe later.”
     
    The door of the elevator was starting to close on Gibbons as he hurriedly joined Lilburn.
    “The officers, are they still at the Fifteenth Precinct?”
    Gibbons adjusted his clothing. “Yeah, I thought you might want to talk to them so I told them not to send the officers out until you get there.”
    “A stamp. Amazing how the smallest detail can get the ball rolling in the right direction.”
    “Looks that way. The devil’s in the detail, right?”
    The lift came to a halt and the door opened to the eleventh floor.
    Gibbons looked at Matt. “How do you want to do this?”
    “Can you get two of your staff, and transport to the Fifteenth? We’ll then go straight to the place where the officers saw the Syrian and the stamps.”
     
    The white van screeched wheels as it climbed the ramp leading from One Police Plaza into the morning traffic. Outside the Fifteenth Precinct, Lilburn and Gibbons left the other officers in the van while they sought out Officers Maitland and Martinez and the best lead they had so far.
    “Special Agent Lilburn, Homeland Security, and this is Inspector Gibbons, NYPD.”
    “Morning, gentlemen, good to see you again, sir.” The lieutenant stood up from behind his desk and saluted.
    “Been a while, Henry.” Gibbons reached over the desk and shook Lieutenant Mather’s hand. “Congratulations on the recent promotion.”
    “Can’t say I was disappointed when it came through, the wife sure likes the extra dollars in the pay packet.” Lieutenant Mather sat back down.
    Lilburn cut to the chase. “Could I speak to the two officers?”
    “Not a problem.” The lieutenant rose and proceeded to the door where he asked the nearest person to fetch Martinez and Maitland. Settling back on the front of his desk, he looked at Lilburn with undisguised interest. “We only just got instructions from Homeland early this morning and… here they are now. Shut the door behind you.”
    Lilburn could see the younger officer wasn’t long out of training; he appeared nervous as he entered the lieutenant’s office. The older officer had a streetwise swagger to him, probably a good choice to partner up with a rookie.
    “Officers Maitland and Martinez, this is Inspector Gibbons from One Police Plaza and Special Agent Lilburn, Homeland Security. Tell them what you told me earlier.”
    Maitland hooked his thumbs in his service belt and recounted the events that occurred in the apartment in Bedford-Stuyvesant. Lilburn nodded as he heard about the stamps on the brown wrapping paper. “Did anything look suspicious to you?”
    “Not really, sir, I had a good look around. The occupier, or at least the one of the two that was there at the time, let us in the apartment, he cooperated, passed the attitude test, gave us no nonsense, so we just carried out normal procedures and left. That was about it I guess.” Maitland looked to his