by Rick Polad
And then another stab. His body jumped again. Two more stabs left him dreading the next stabbing.
Minutes went by before he felt another sharp point under his chin. This time the blade stayed. He froze, vividly remembering the chapter about Jack.
Trying to regain some composure, Spencer hesitantly said, “Okay, I don’t care who you are. Why are you doing this?”
Still no answer. He couldn’t imagine being more scared and thought this was a helluva way to spend your last hours. But if all they wanted was to kill him, he would be dead by now. They wanted something, but what? And if they got it, would he still be alive? After the knife jabs, he was pretty sure he would give them whatever they wanted. And then they would kill him.
After what seemed like hours, he heard two more sets of footsteps coming down the stairs. So now there were three people nearby.
Spencer heard what sounded like a radio crackle. A male voice said, “He’s awake.”
Someone pulled off his mask.
Even the little light there was sent pain to the back of his head. Gradually, his eyes adjusted. Spencer opened them a slit and turned toward the man who was standing over him with arms crossed, a radio in one hand. The man was as big as a gorilla.
“Can you untie me?” Spencer asked with lips that stuck together and seemed to be moving much too slowly.
No answer. Okay, this guy was just a flunky. Whoever was on the other end of the radio would be down soon.
Less than a minute later they were joined by another man. Compared to the first, he was a midget—shorter than Spencer’s six feet and not very weighty. Hard to make him out in the dim light.
This guy Spencer could handle with one hand tied behind his back. Of course, both hands tied was a problem. And then there was the gorilla.
“Untie him.”
The gorilla knelt behind Spencer with a knife. One flick and the ropes were loose, leaving Spencer free to fall sideways onto the floor. He landed on his left shoulder and tried to move his right arm around to the front, but it wouldn’t budge. He couldn’t even feel it. There was also no feeling in his left arm, which was wedged under his body. Spencer stayed on his side while the gorilla cut the rope on his ankles. He noticed his watch was gone but decided that was the least of his problems.
“Should I help him boss?” asked the gorilla.
“No,” said the boss, calmly.
While Spencer struggled, the boss read the information from Spencer’s driver’s license. Holding it up to the light, he asked, “You Spencer Manning?”
Spencer wanted to tell the guy to look at the picture, but figured he wasn’t in a position to be a smart ass. Someone who couldn’t free his own arm from his own weight wasn’t in a very commanding position. But Spencer was making progress—feeling was coming back. Pins and needles let him know his arms were still there. A small roll to the right took off enough weight to pull his arm free. That took all his energy.
“Hey, the boss asked you a question.”
Not wanting to anger the gorilla, Spencer took a deep breath and answered, “Yeah, I’m Spencer Manning.”
The boss nodded. “I could tell. Nice picture.” He threw the license and Spencer’s wallet onto the floor at Spencer’s feet and said, “You got five minutes to get to where you can walk up those stairs.” He turned and walked back upstairs.
The gorilla stayed.
Not wanting to find out what would happen if he didn’t make it, Spencer started moving his legs and rubbing some feeling back into his arms. The gorilla kept checking his watch and gave a one-minute warning. Spencer had no idea what time it was, but all that mattered at the moment was that one minute.
He stopped rubbing his arm. Ignoring the stabbing pain in his head, he used the pole to help pull himself to a standing position. Saying nothing, the gorilla simply pointed toward the stairs.
Spencer went first and willed his legs to move up the stairs. When he pushed open the door at the top, bright light sent a pain from his temples to the back of his head that felt like someone had driven in a spike. He covered his eyes with his left hand and turned away.
“Headache?” asked a strong and matter-of-fact female voice.
Squinting through his hand, Spencer didn’t answer. He couldn’t see the speaker.
She continued. “Michael. Turn off the light. We don’t want Mr. Manning to think ill of his hosts. We can do with the window light.”
Through his squint, Spencer saw the gorilla move to the wall and flick a switch. He immediately felt like his head had been let out of a vice.
“Better?” the voice asked.
Spencer turned and slowly nodded at Laura Justine.
* * *
Have a seat.” From her perch on the edge of a rickety desk, she waved at a group of four wooden chairs in the center of the room. Other than the desk and chairs the room was empty. A bulletin board hung on a wall covered with graffiti.
Happy to be sitting, Spencer looked around the room as he did so. Besides Laura and the gorilla there were three other men; one was the short one who gave the orders in the basement. Spencer massaged his temples and let his gaze come back to Laura. She was calmly watching Spencer with no emotion.
They watched each other for a good two minutes before Spencer spoke. “You knocked me out?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted both feet to the floor while leaning against the desk. “Well, not personally, but a friend of mine did.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Sure. But I think I’m more in a position to ask the questions.”
“Yup, the person holding the gun is always in a better position,” Spencer agreed.
Looking directly at him with raised eyebrows and a tiny smile, Laura asked, “Do you see any guns, Mr. Manning?”
“Figure of speech. With that guy on your side you don’t need guns.” Spencer nodded at the gorilla. “But I’d bet just cuz I can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t here.”
The smile disappeared. “Why were you following me, Mr. Manning?”
“I wasn’t...” Out of the corner of his eye, Spencer saw the gorilla step away from the wall. That stopped him in mid-sentence.
“Mr. Manning. We are not here to play games. Your headache proves that. Following me once may be a coincidence. Twice is not. Don’t play games with me and you may be able to recover from that headache. Now, why were you following me?”
Holding none of the cards and deciding that the truth couldn’t get him in any worse trouble, Spencer answered. “A month or so ago you were arrested for prostitution.” He didn’t get the verification he was expecting. But then he didn’t need it—it was a fact. “You were represented by a friend of mine, Benjamin Tucker.”
Her eyebrows raised slightly.
“He asked me to check up on you, make sure you were okay.”
“Why?”
Spencer spread his hands palms up. “Because he was concerned. He didn’t want you caught up in the system or lying in an alley.”
“That’s a bit hard to believe, Mr. Manning. Your friend doesn’t know me and would have no personal interest. Why would he go to that trouble?”
“Because he thought you were different. You didn’t belong in that crowd. You didn’t belong on the streets. And you didn’t belong in jail.”
She smiled again. “We must have slipped up somewhere. I thought I was doing a pretty good job of belonging.”
Laura was quiet for a few seconds. “And your friend’s concern included breaking into my apartment?”
Spencer squirmed in the chair. “No, that was my doing.”
“Why?”
“Because there was no information on Laura Douglas.” He shrugged. “Seemed strange.”
Locking eyes with Spencer, she said, “Really. Strange enough to commit a crime?”
As Spencer started to respond, Laura held up her hand and stopped him. She looked to the side, nodded slightly, and one of the men left the room.
The door led to another
room. As it closed, Spencer asked, “Do I get to ask any questions?”
“Maybe. At the moment you get to wait.” She lifted herself into a sitting position on the desk. “Unless you’d like to use the washroom.”
“I would.”
She nodded toward a door to her left.
Chapter 51
Ben was wrapping up paperwork at the office Saturday morning. At a quarter to eleven, his telephone rang. He was on his way out, but went back to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Benjamin Tucker?”
“Yes?”
“Do you know a Spencer Manning?”
Ben wondered what was up. With Spencer it could be anything. He hoped it wasn’t bad. “Yes.”
“And did you ask him to become involved with Laura Douglas?”
“Who is this?” Ben set down his briefcase.
“I’m waiting, Mr. Tucker,” the man said politely.
“That is privileged information. Why is it your business?”
“Let’s say that Mr. Manning is in a position that depends on your answer.”
Something in the man’s tone made Ben decide that playing tough was not a good idea. He also decided that the man on the other end of the line already knew the answer. So the truth seemed like the best bet. “I did, yes.”
“In what manner?”
“I asked Mr. Manning to follow her and keep an eye on her.”
“For what purpose?”
“To make sure she was okay.” As he said it, he realized how stupid it sounded. There was no way this guy was going to buy that.
The line went dead.
Chapter 52
Spencer had been massaging his neck for five minutes when the door opened. With a sideways glance, Spencer saw the man who had left the room nod at Laura.
She took a deep breath that swelled out her chest. “Okay, Mr. Manning. Suppose for the moment that we buy your story. That earns you a question.”
“Okay. What the hell is going on?”
“Could you be a bit more specific?”
“Why clobber me and drag me in here?”
“Because you were following me and we didn’t know why,” she answered as she moved around behind the desk and sat. “Would you like coffee?”
“Please. Black.” Another man left the room. “You could have stopped me on the street. You didn’t need all this.”
“My apologies if we’ve inconvenienced you, but, where my safety is concerned, I like to be in control of the situation. And I’d say I’m pretty well in control here.”
“For the moment. But you’re not in control out on the street. And if you haven’t noticed, it isn’t too safe these days.”
The man returned with the coffee. As Spencer took a sip, a phone rang in the other room. It only rang once. So there was at least one other person in the next room.
“Thank you for your concern, Mr. Manning. But as I said, I like to be in control. That goes for the streets, too. For instance, last Friday you entered my apartment building. You later followed me to Broadway and bought two hot dogs. Enough?”
He slowly looked her over. With her hair pulled back in a ponytail, no makeup, and wearing a baggy sweatshirt, she again looked like a college kid. She was certainly a long way from a prostitute.
“So, why the prostitute act?”
“That’s a long story and not one you need to know. Let’s just say I needed a cover that brought me down into the lower edges of society.”
Spencer shook his head. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but it’s a very dangerous one.”
“First of all, it’s not a game, and second, yes it is. But it is necessary. The next question is what do we do with you?”
“How about thank me for coming and point me toward the door?”
Laura laughed. It was a pretty laugh. A different time and place and that laugh may have been inviting. No one else was laughing.
“I like you, Mr. Manning.”
“Then why not call me Spencer?”
“Okay. But I can’t allow my personal opinions to get in the way of business. And at the moment you are a liability. I can’t afford to have anyone I don’t trust know my whereabouts. And I can’t afford anyone poking their nose into my business, no matter how well-meaning. You and Mr. Tucker have stuck your noses pretty far into my business. So how can I be sure you will remove your noses?”
Spencer’s head was starting to clear. He answered, “Mr. Tucker’s motivation was to make sure you were okay. I think I can tell him you are. I’d say you are more than okay. You may just be more okay than the mayor.”
“And that will satisfy him?” The phone rang again. One ring.
“It should.”
“And how about you, Spencer? Would that satisfy you?”
He hesitated a second and that was too long.
Laura stood behind the desk. “No, it wouldn’t. You’d still be wondering what’s going on. And you just might get the urge to stick your nose back in—just to be helpful, of course.” She stared at him. “I don’t need any help, Spencer. I have plenty.”
Stretching his arms behind his head, Spencer said, “You’re right, I have no idea what’s going on in your personal life, and that’s certainly your business. But I am involved in what’s going on in the streets, and that’s something you’re not equipped to deal with. Do you read the papers?”
Leaning over, she put both hands flat on the desk. “I know exactly what’s going on. And I assure you that I’m as safe as I am in this room.”
Spencer couldn’t believe the naiveté of the woman. “How can you say that? Last Friday I saw you go into the alley with a man. That man could have been the killer. How did you know you would walk out of there alive?”
She smiled slightly. “Because I’m in control.”
Spencer threw his hands up in frustration. “You don’t get it! You aren’t in control in a dark alley with a stranger. Okay, you have people watching. But when you turned into that alley, you were alone with him. On the streets your people can get to you. But in the alley it would take one second for someone to pull out a knife and end your life. No one could get to you quick enough.”
She nodded. “Right. That’s why I don’t go into alleys with strange men.”
“But you did! It only takes one...”
She held up her hand. Spencer stopped talking.
“Mr. Manning.”
“What happened to Spencer?”
“You’re pissing me off.”
Spencer closed his eyes and rolled his head. It still hurt, but not as much. He tried to be calm, but the frustration still gave his voice an edge that sounded like anger. “I am trying to keep you alive.”
“Thank you. But I can do that myself.”
“Not if you insist on...”
She held up her hand again. “Okay, let’s try this. Can you describe the man you saw me go into the alley with?”
“Sure. I can still see his face.”
She sat down. “So you could identify him if you saw him again?”
“Yup,” Spencer said with assurance.
“Turn around.”
Spencer looked confused. Laura twirled her finger and nodded.
Standing behind Spencer was the man she went into the alley with. Massaging his forehead, Spencer turned back to Laura. He tried to get his brain to register. It did, but slowly. And as it sunk in, Spencer’s respect for Laura Justine expanded enormously. He looked at her and saw a very smart, very shrewd woman looking patiently at him, waiting for it to sink in. Her eyebrows raised, her shoulders lifted almost imperceptibly, and her head tilted slightly to the side as if to ask, Got it now?
Spencer opened his mouth but the words stuck in his throat for a few seconds. “You hired all these people.”
She nodded.
“You put on a pretty good prostitute act and then disappear down an alley with someone you hired.”
Another nod.
“So you hire men to not
have sex with you?”
Another alluring laugh. “I guess you could say that. But what I really hire them for is to protect me.”
Spencer stared. “You are either insane or very shrewd. And if you aren’t insane there must be a reason behind the shrewdness.”
“Everything has a reason, Mr. Manning.”
“And what is the reason for all this?”
“For me to know.”
“And these gentlemen?”
“They don’t know either.” Seeing his look of disbelief, she continued. “I pay them well to take care of me. They don’t care why.”
Spencer looked around at the four men against the walls. They certainly looked like they didn’t care.
“That’s pretty hard to believe.”
She shrugged. She didn’t care if he believed her or not. “Maybe just as hard to believe as your friend caring so much about my well-being. How often does someone care about a complete stranger, especially someone caught up in the legal system?”
“Hard to believe or not, it’s true.”
“See, sometimes things that are hard to believe are true,” she said with a smile. She was totally relaxed and seemed to be enjoying the control she had.
Spencer edged to the front of the chair. “Okay, let’s assume there’s a good reason for all of this and that these people are here solely to protect you. I think there are some holes in your plan.”
“I would be grateful to you for pointing them out, Spencer,” she said calmly. “I do not have a death wish.”
Feeling that he had her, and he really wanted to show her up, Spencer continued. “I saw you talk to several men. They couldn’t all be in your employ. You have no control over someone stopping and hitting on you.”
“Right. That I have no control over.”
“So, what if one of those men hires you?”
“Wouldn’t happen.”
“No,” Spencer said with a smile, “Might happen.”
She shook her head slowly. “No man would pay what I ask.”
“One might.”
“No. No man is crazy enough to pay five hundred dollars for what he could get for twenty somewhere else.”
Spencer cringed inwardly at the five hundred dollars. That was higher than he had guessed. “One might.”