Kevin sensed my dilemma. “Think about this. The cops have had Alexi Smirnoff for weeks and look how that’s turned out. Now, thanks to our work the other night, they have old Boris and the handlers they picked up off the street. I say we give him to Carmine. After all, the creep shot Carmine’s old friend in cold blood, then tried to blow him up with a bomb.”
I saw the blood drain from Viktor’s face. “If I have a vote, I’ll take the cops.”
“Sorry,” I replied, smiling. “Two to one. You lose. We’re taking you to Marchetti.”
We jerked Kozlov to his feet and were headed out the door when I heard, “Mr. Williams!”
It was Christy. “Haven’t you forgotten something?”
“I certainly did,” I said, pulling the hundred out of my wallet. “Here you go. You deserve it.”
“Thanks, pops,” she said, snatching the bill and popping her gum. “I also promised you a dance.”
“I’m sure it would be delightful, but I’ll pass.”
She shrugged. “Okay, your loss.”
I turned to Kevin. “Please tell your sister what a good boy I am.”
As soon as we were in the car, I dialed Carmine.
“This is Walt. Kevin and I have Viktor Kozlov in the car. Would you like to have a chat with him?”
“Do Italians eat spaghetti and meatballs?”
I asked Kevin if he’d been spending time with Carmine, but he said no.
We drove to Marchetti’s office building downtown. Vito met us in the garage, took our weapons, then escorted us to the don’s private office.
Kozlov was shaking in his shoes.
When we entered the office, Carmine was standing behind his desk. For the longest time, he just stood there glaring a hole in poor Viktor.
Finally, he spoke. “You killed Vinnie and stole what he collected. You killed Nick and stole the night’s proceeds. You’ve killed my friends and stolen my money. Then you tried to kill me. Dying would be too good for you.
“Ever heard of Lingchi? It’s called death by a thousand cuts. I have a Chinese friend who’s very good at it. He uses a sharp knife to methodically cut pieces from your body over a very long period of time. I should introduce you to my Chinese friend.”
Kozlov’s knees buckled. Kevin and I had to hold him up.
I made a mental note to never get on Carmine’s bad side.
Carmine started pacing behind his desk. I could tell he was trying to figure out what to do with my doppelganger.
“Carmine,” I said, hoping not to incur the don’s wrath, “I have a thought.”
He stopped pacing. “Okay, gumshoe. Let’s hear it.”
“I know you have some very good personal reasons to want Kozlov at the bottom of the Missouri River, but I also remember you saying that the Russians were trying to muscle into your territory.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Think about this, right now, the Russians are hanging on by their fingernails. If Alexi Smirnoff regains consciousness, he will put away Egor Mitkin and end their meth trade. The cops have already nipped their marijuana source in the bud, and the other night, we wiped out their prostitution business.
“I think we can use Viktor to end the Russians presence in Kansas City for good. You just have to decide which is more important, revenge for your friends or crushing the Russian mob.”
I knew this would be a difficult decision for Carmine. He was loyal to a fault, but he was also an astute businessman.
He thought for a moment. “What do you have in mind?”
“Based on what I learned the other night, the head honcho in Kansas City is a guy named Ivan. It was Ivan who gave Viktor the orders to kill Vinnie and Nick.
“Viktor has made my life miserable impersonating me. It’s time to turn the tables. Ivan doesn’t know we’ve got Viktor. Our friend here can tell us where I can find Ivan and we can lure him into a trap.”
Carmine weighed my idea. “I like it. This piece of crap pulled the trigger, but I want the guy who gave the order.”
Evidently, Viktor had regained his composure. “I ain’t telling you nothing!”
“Is that so?” Carmine replied. He motioned for Vito to step forward. “Vito, do you think you can persuade our little friend here to be more cooperative?”
Vito smiled. “It would be my pleasure.”
Viktor took one look at the huge Italian and had an abrupt change of heart.
“Okay, okay! What do you want to know?”
“Let’s start with Ivan’s last name,” I said.
“Sokolov. Ivan Sokolov.”
In the next ten minutes, he told us that Sokolov was operating out of a third-floor condo in the River Bend Lofts in the River Market area. He usually had two or three bodyguards on site.
With this information, I was ready to share the rest of my plan with Carmine.
“I don’t suppose you’d have a hundred or so pounds of marijuana laying around?”
“I might. Why?”
“How about some location that’s not directly tied to your organization, preferably down by the river?”
“Yeah, I know a place. A small warehouse. It’s vacant. I’ve been working on a deal to buy it, but it’s still in the estate of a guy who recently passed.”
I wasn’t about to ask how the poor chap had met his demise.
“Great! Have the marijuana taken to this warehouse. I’ll go to Ivan and tell him I’ve learned that you just received a shipment by river, and you’re going to be there to check it out. To him, it will be like shooting fish in a barrel. It’s a whole new ballgame with Carmine Marchetti out of the way. When he shows up, your guys can get the drop on them. A perfect ambush.”
“Pretty clever. How’d you come up with that?”
I wasn’t about to tell him that when I was a kid at the Saturday afternoon cowboy matinees, I saw many bad guys tricked into a box canyon while the good guys laid in wait.
“Uhhh, it just seemed like the right thing to do.”
“Let’s do it. They’ll walk into our trap and we’ll blast them straight to hell.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because the cops have to know that you and the Russians have been at each other’s throats. A massacre like that will certainly draw their attention. Even if the Russians deserve it, it’s still murder, and it would give the cops a reason to come after you.”
“I hadn’t thought of that, but you’re right. So, what do you have in mind?”
“As soon as we get Ivan and his henchmen under wraps, you and your guys will disappear. Kevin and I will call the cops. When they show up, the Russians will be caught with a hundred pounds of illegal grass. You’d lose it, of course, but that’s a small price to pay for getting the Russian mob out of your hair.
“Then, we turn Viktor here, over to the cops. He’ll testify about all of Ivan’s shenanigans, enough to put him away for a very long time. You would do that, wouldn’t you, Viktor?”
My evil twin took another look at Vito standing over him. “Yeah, yeah, I’d do that.”
“All right,” Carmine said. “Let’s get to work.”
“You sure you want to do this?” Kevin asked. “If Ivan doesn’t buy your story, you’re dead meat.”
“Hey, we look enough alike that my own father didn’t know the difference. I’m sure I can sell it. He won’t pass up a chance to take out the don of the Italian mafia.”
“Okay, I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
After we got word that the marijuana had been transferred to the warehouse, and that Carmine’s men were in place, I headed to the River Quay.
I took the elevator to the third floor of the building. It wasn’t difficult to tell which unit was Ivan’s. Two burly Russians were seated outside the door.
I tried to act nonchalant. “Is Ivan in?”
One of them nodded. “Yeah, but he’s not in a good mood.”
“No problem,” I repli
ed. “I have some information that will cheer him up.”
The guy opened the door and I found myself in the presence of Ivan the Terrible.
“Viktor! What the hell are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay in your hotel until I contacted you.”
“Yeah, boss, you did, but I wanted to make up for the mess we made the other night. I have some good news.”
“Oh, yeah? What? I could use some good news. New York and Moscow are really pissed.”
“Would you like to have a crack at Carmine Marchetti himself?”
That got his attention. “What are you talking about?”
“This Walt Williams character, my double, is tight with Marchetti. One of his guys thought I was Williams. He told me that Carmine had just set up a new pipeline of grass from Mexico. He’s getting it off boats on the Missouri River. The first shipment is coming today. Carmine is going to be there to inspect it personally. I know exactly where he’s going to be.”
Ivan’s mood took an abrupt about face. “Good work! This is the break we’ve been looking for. With Carmine out of the way, we can move forward.”
I stayed in the background as Ivan gathered his troops for an assault on the warehouse.
A half-hour later, Ivan and I, along with five burly Russians piled into two SUVs and headed to the river front.
“That’s it,” I said, pointing to the warehouse. Two vehicles were parked outside.
“Only two cars,” Ivan said. “There can’t be more than a half-dozen of them, and we have the element of surprise. Let’s go.”
They hit the door and charged inside finding Carmine seated in a chair beside the bale of marijuana.
“Ivan,” Carmine said, smiling, “I’ve been waiting for you.”
The Russian was confused. “What the hell?”
Carmine gave the signal, and ten of his men materialized, completely surrounding the Russians.
Ivan turned to me. “Viktor! What have you done?”
“I’m not Viktor,” I replied. “I’m Walt Williams.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “You sure look like him.”
I had heard that line at least a dozen times since my evil twin arrived in Kansas City. I had a warm, fuzzy feeling, hearing it from the other side.
Carmine strode up to Ivan and got right in his face.
“You gave the order to have my friends Vinnie and Nick murdered. If I had my way, you would be on your way to the bottom of that river. Instead, you will spend the rest of your life rotting in a prison cell.”
He punched Ivan in the gut. “That is for Vinnie.” Then he punched him in the face. “That is for Nick.” He turned to Vito. “Tie them up!”
Once they were bound, he turned to me. “They’re all yours. Thank you. We’re even.”
As soon as Carmine and his men were gone, I dialed Detective Blaylock.
“Derek, Walt here. You might want to contact D.E.U. and come to the river front with a couple of paddy wagons.”
While we were waiting for Derek to arrive, I had Kevin bring in Viktor. They had been waiting in Kevin’s car.
“Viktor! How could you?” Ivan asked.
“Sorry, boss. I had no choice. You saw the size of that Italian guy. It was either jail or Carmine was going to turn me over to him.”
Twenty minutes later, the place was crawling with cops.
Blaylock’s mouth dropped open when he saw Kevin and I with seven burly Russians hogtied.
“What the hell happened here?”
We had our story ready to go.
“The other night, when we were rounding up the Russian girls, Kevin overheard one of the Russians talking about them setting up a new marijuana pipeline. As you recall, you guys shut down the one at Harmon Imports.
“Anyway, when we heard about a new shipment coming in, we watched the riverfront and spotted these guys. We got the drop on them and here we are. By the way, the one with the bloody lip is Ivan Sokolov. He’s the head honcho in the Russian mob here in Kansas City.”
I could read the disbelief on Blaylock’s face. “Do you really expect me to believe that bullshit?”
We both nodded. “That’s our story and we’re sticking to it.”
“Not true! Not True!” Ivan wailed.
“Who are going to believe,” I asked with a straight face, “a Russian mobster or a decorated ex-cop?”
Then Blaylock spotted Viktor. He looked at Viktor, then he looked at me. “So this is your doppelganger. Sure as hell looks like you.”
“Yes, and he’s going to sing like a canary to save his sorry ass, aren’t you Viktor?”
He nodded and hung his head.
“Let’s get these guys in the wagons,” Blaylock ordered. Then he turned to Kevin and me. “Downtown! You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.
The Russians were being led to the paddy wagons. Kevin and I were a few steps behind when I heard two shots. CRACK! CRACK!
With the first shot, Ivan’s head exploded and Viktor took the second shot in the chest.
I watched in horror as the life ebbed from the body of my evil twin.
EPILOGUE
My first thought was that Carmine had changed his mind and decided to exact revenge for the deaths of his two friends.
He swore on his mother’s grave that he had done no such thing, and was vindicated when the police determined that the slugs that killed the two mobsters came from a Dragunov, a Russian sniper rifle. Ballistics matched the slugs to a rifle that was used in another assassination in New York.
Ivan and Viktor knew too much about the mob’s activities in New York and Moscow. Believing they would both tell-all to save their skins, the mob sent an assassin to make sure that didn’t happen.
While I’m not normally the type to wish ill on anyone, if I’m truthful, I would have to admit that I wasn’t disappointed with the fate that befell my evil twin. Since coming to Kansas City, he had made my life a living hell, and even with the knowledge that he would be spending the rest of his days behind bars, I was still uneasy knowing that he was out there somewhere.
Alexi Smirnoff regained consciousness, and his testimony put away the last remnant of the Russian mob in Kansas City. No doubt they will try again someday, but for now things will get back to normal.
The Italian mafia and the African American brothers will go about their business on the other side of the law, existing in peaceful co-existence because business is better that way. The cops will keep trying to get the goods on Carmine, but if they were truthful, they would say they’re a lot happier dealing with Carmine than the Russian mob.
The devil you know.
William Shakespeare wrote in The Tempest, “Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.”
If someone had told me ten years ago when I was selling real estate, that one day I would be working with the likes of men like Carmine Marchetti and Louie the Lip, I would have scoffed in their face.
As a matter of fact, I would probably have done the same five years ago when I was working exclusively for the Lady Justice in the white robe.
Now that I find myself working with the Lady Justice in the high-heeled shoes and fishnet stockings, I have come to believe that circumstances alter cases, and that everything isn’t just black or white. Life is full of things that are varying shades of grey.
Most recently, I conspired with the godfather of the Kansas City mob to lure the leader of the Russian mob into a trap, then lied to the police.
Was it the right thing to do?
I have asked myself that question over and over, and each time I come up with the same answer.
Under the circumstances, I did what had to be done. In the end, justice was served.
My name is Walt Williams, and as long as justice is served, I can live with myself and get a good night’s sleep.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Award-winning author, Robert Thornhill, began writing at the age of sixty-six and in nine short years has penned thirty-six novels in the Lady Justice
mystery/comedy series, the seven volume Rainbow Road series of chapter books for children, a cookbook and a mini-autobiography.
Lady Justice and the Sting, Lady Justice and Dr. Death, Lady Justice and the Vigilante, Lady Justice and the Candidate, Lady Justice and the Book Club Murders, Lady Justice and the Cruise Ship Murders and Lady Justice and the Vet won the Pinnacle Award for the best new mystery novels of Fall 2011, Winter 2012, Summer 2012, Fall 2012, Spring of 2013 and Summer 2014 from the National Association of Book Entrepreneurs.
Many of Walt’s adventures in the Lady Justice series are anecdotal and based on Robert’s real life.
Although Robert holds a master’s in psychology, he has never taken a course in writing and has never learned to type. All 46 of his published books were typed with one finger and a thumb!
His wit and insight come from his varied occupations, including thirty-three years as a real estate broker. He lives with his wife, Peg, in Independence, Missouri.
Visit him on the Web at: http://BooksByBob.com
LADY JUSTICE TAKES A C.R.A.P.
City Retiree Action Patrol
Third Edition
This is where it all began.
See how sixty-five-year-old Walt Williams became a cop and started the City Retiree Action Patrol.
Meet Maggie, Willie, Mary and the Professor, Walt’s sidekicks in all of the Lady Justice novels.
Laugh out loud as Walt and his band of Senior Scrappers capture the Realtor Rapist and take down the Russian Mob.
http://amzn.to/16lfjnY
LADY JUSTICE AND THE LOST TAPES
Second Edition
When corrupt politicians, the Italian mob and a dirty cop collude to take over a Northeast neighborhood, Walt is recruited for the most bizarre undercover assignments of his new career.
When conventional police work fails to solve the case, once again his band of scrappy seniors come to the rescue.
Lady Justice and the Evil Twin Page 10