Chapter 9: Grace Tillman Makes Three Calls
Grace Tillman was the kind of federal prosecutor who kept her desk clear and her case files organized by consequence rather than date.
She had been with the Southern District for fourteen years and had developed, over that time, a particular sensitivity to cases that arrived already assembled.
Cases that arrived already assembled usually meant someone powerful had done the assembling.
She had dealt with Adrian Moretti twice.
She respected him the way you respected a river — not because it was good or bad, but because it went where it was going regardless of what you thought about it.
When Marco called her on Tuesday morning, she listened without interrupting.
When he finished, she asked three questions.
When he answered them, she said she would need the original documents by end of day.
They arrived at four fifteen.
She read through them that evening at her desk, a cup of cold coffee at her elbow, and by the time she reached the visitor log with Caruso's name on it, she had already begun drafting the warrant applications in her head.
She made three calls the following morning.
The first was to the FBI field office in lower Manhattan.
She spoke with a senior agent named Reyes who had been watching Raymond Gallo's freight operation for eighteen months without enough to move on.
She told him she had enough.
He asked how.
She said a witness had come forward with documentation.
He asked who the witness was.
She said that was complicated.
He said he was used to complicated.
The second call was to the city's inspector general office regarding Harlan Briggs and the infrastructure tender.
That conversation was shorter and considerably less pleasant.
The inspector general was a cautious man who used the phrase "due process" four times in six minutes.
Grace used the phrase "federal jurisdiction" twice and ended the call.
The third call was to a judge she trusted.
By Thursday afternoon, she had three warrants.
Gerald Foss was taken into custody at his apartment building at seven fifteen Thursday morning.
He did not resist.
He sat down on his couch when the agents entered and put his face in his hands and stayed that way for a long time.
He cooperated fully within the first hour of questioning.
He named Caruso.
He named the clinic's records system vulnerability he had exploited.
He provided his phone, which contained the threatening message he had sent to Adrian's number, along with eleven other messages he had sent to a contact he identified as one of Gallo's intermediaries.
Raymond Gallo was taken into custody at his brownstone in Brooklyn Heights at nine forty-five the same morning.
He was in the middle of breakfast.
His attorney — not Caruso, a different one — arrived within twenty minutes and immediately began requesting a continuance on everything.
Grace denied all of it.
Dominic Caruso surrendered voluntarily at noon, accompanied by two attorneys and a written statement he had apparently been preparing for several days.
Harlan Briggs resigned from his position at the city infrastructure office at two in the afternoon.
His resignation letter cited personal reasons.
The inspector general's office released a statement saying the matter was under review.
Grace read the statement and set it aside.
By four o'clock, she was back at her desk with a fresh cup of coffee and a case file that had grown considerably thicker.
Her phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
Adrian Moretti.
She answered.
"I heard it went smoothly," he said.
"Smoothly is relative," she said.
"Briggs's attorney is already making noise.
Gallo's people are claiming the documentation was obtained improperly."
"Was it?"
"No." She paused.
"Your involvement will come up."
"I know."
"You're a witness, not a target.
But you'll need to be available."
"I'll be available."
She tapped her pen against the desk.
"The threatening message Foss sent you.
That's a federal charge on its own.
It'll be added to his file."
"I know."
"Adrian." She paused.
"The recording from the restaurant.
The conversation with Gallo."
"What about it?"
"It's admissible.
But I need to know — was Gallo informed he was being recorded?"
A brief silence.
"He was informed that the conversation might be used," Adrian said.
"The exact wording was that what happened to him would depend on how useful the information was.
He understood the terms."
Grace considered this.
"That's a creative interpretation of informed consent."
"It's an accurate one."
She almost smiled.
"I'll make it work." She looked at the case file.
"You should know — this is going to take time.
Gallo's attorneys will fight every piece of this.
Briggs has political connections.
Foss will plead down."
"I understand."
"The harbor contracts," she said.
"The tender.
That's going to be restructured entirely.
You may find yourself in a better position than before all of this started."
"That wasn't the point," he said.
"I know," she said.
"That's why I'm telling you."
She ended the call and looked out her office window at the city below.
May you like
Fourteen years, and cases still arrived that reminded her why she had taken the job.
She picked up her pen and went back to work.
