Regret No More

by Seb Kirby

  Chapter 62

  The Texas Eagle would have taken us all the way to Chicago if we could have contemplated the twenty-eight hour journey yet we didn’t want to stay too long on the train. We had escaped Heller but feared he might still find a way of catching up with us, nor did we know the state of play with Craven and his men. We had no way of knowing what had caused them to leave the Warren Richardson Hotel in such haste. In all likelihood Craven would be coming after me. Everything pointed to making our getaway as unpredictable as possible.

  Miles negotiated with the conductor. “What’s beyond Taylor?”

  The conductor gave the smile of a man proud of his railway. He paused for a while, taking in our disheveled appearance but chose not to make this an issue. “Depends where you’re heading. Fort Worth. Dallas. Texarkana, St Louis. Take your pick.”

  Miles did not hesitate. “Make it Fort Worth.”

  The conductor asked for sixty-six dollars. Miles paid in cash.

  When he’d gone, I whispered to Miles, “Why Fort Worth?”

  He whispered back. “They have direct flights out of Dallas-Fort Worth to London.”

  I was impressed by the ease with which Miles had settled the fare. I’d lived without money since I’d been pulled off the street in London. Craven had taken what few possessions I had. He’d found a way of registering me in the name of Charles Harrington at the Warren Richardson, though I had no passport. He’d used Agent Miller to set up my tab at the hotel bar. They knew that if I had no money it would deprive me of my freedom as much as any surveillance activity.

  Then it came to me. I had no passport. How was I going to board that flight?

  I turned back towards Miles. “You came all this way to help me.”

  He made little of it. “Jim, that’s what a brother’s for.”

  “You don’t know how grateful I am.”

  “No need to be grateful. Let’s just get you home.”

  “You said Julia was safe?”

  “Yes, she has protection. Through the newspaper I’m working for, I’ve hired a man – Craig – to guard her.”

  “She’s still at the hotel?”

  Miles nodded. “That’s the arrangement and Craig’s to stay with her.”

  There was only one thing I wanted to do. “I need to call her.”

  Miles pulled out his mobile phone. “Should still have enough charge.” He looked at the screen. “There’s no signal. You’ll have to wait.”

  We fell silent for a while as I came to terms with the fact that I couldn’t reach Julia. I turned my face to the window and watched as the Austin outskirts rolled past.

  I needed to concentrate on something else. “We need to talk about Craven. He almost had me fooled. He has so much resource, so much authority, I find it hard to believe he could be black ops.”

  “Jim, was he responsible for bringing you out here?”

  I nodded. I told Miles how Craven had pulled me off the street and shipped me into Austin via Huntsville. “Just because he did that to me doesn’t mean he’s not legit.”

  Miles didn’t agree. “If you’d heard what Luiz Reyas told me, you’d be certain Craven is anything but legit. Reyas recognized Craven when he saw him at the hotel. He’s in deep with the Soto cartel. Reyas has seen him in Tijuana with El Romero, the head of the cartel, checking out consignments before they’re sent north.”

  “Craven’s been protecting Ravitz. What does that mean for him?”

  “He’s not clean, either.”

  Miles told me what he knew about Ravitz, how Julia had discovered he was one of the recipients of the letter from Pugot’s solicitor sent to those defrauded in the Picasso swindle and how an earlier generation of the Ravitz family was involved in drugs shipments out of Tijuana. “You see, I think Ravitz overreacted when he received the letter. He was worried his election chances would be finished if the connection with the Landos became known.”

  “Because of the art scam?”

  “Yes, and the possibility of the drugs connection becoming known. You need a lot of money to stand for President. You don’t want anyone knowing where you’re getting that money from if it came from drugs, no matter how long ago. Imagine Ravitz’s rage when he received the letter, when his first enquiries showed that the same Lando family responsible for the art scam on his family was involved in the present day drugs business. The connection would become known. Ravitz panicked and went to his friends in the FBI. Only the wrong man was put on the case.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I had a man, Adam Weston, checking on Agent Franks. His record doesn’t fit with any of this. Franks was steady, a lifer committed to the organization he worked for, going nowhere and proud of it.”

  “So he’d be a threat to Craven?”

  Miles nodded. “And to Ravitz. If Franks found the link to the drugs network in Tijuana while he was investigating the Picasso scam, he’d report it. Ravitz wouldn’t be a future Presidential candidate, not if his family’s past links to drugs was known.”

  “So, you’re saying that once Ravitz realized his mistake, Craven was brought in?”

  “Craven and his black ops team. Craven has as much to lose. He and his men are freeloading, getting wealthy out of the drugs trade out of Tijuana. They’d be in jail. They’ve been playing catch up. Trying to limit the damage.”

  “Did Craven have Franks killed?”

  Miles opened wide his hands. “I believe he did. From where he was sitting, he had no choice. As soon as Franks found you and Julia, Craven knew it was only a matter of time before the truth came out. So, I think he killed Franks and used his position to cover it up. Maybe his long-term aim was to pin the killing on Matteo Lando or to show it was an accident, I don’t know. But it’s more or less certain that Craven ordered the killing of Franks.”

  The more Miles told me, the more I came to understand how and why Craven had entrapped me. “What I don’t understand, Miles, is why Craven and Ravitz didn’t do a deal with the Landos.”

  “It would make sense to you or me. But we’re not dealing with rational people here. I think they must have wanted to do a deal with the Landos at first. To say, ‘let’s have a truce’. But Ravitz had already done too much damage. People like Matteo and Alessa are on heightened alert at the prospect of being double-crossed. They don’t trust men like Craven, feds involved in the drugs business, because they know too much and could turn in anyone involved at any time to save their own skins. They rub shoulders in the same business out of necessity but that doesn’t take away the mutual hatred and mistrust. Once Ravitz alerted the wrong people in the FBI, these fears would have emerged and couldn’t be forgotten again. The Lando way is to act first, to act fast and to employ such violence that the shock of this will traumatize the opposition. That’s what the criminal class in Italy gave to fascism and it’s still true today. Hence the involvement of Wolfgang Heller and the tactic of eliminating any and all loose ends. So, it’s a dogfight, a fight to the end, for their part. Craven and his men see the Landos as unreliable, old school, a longterm liability. Why not go further? Why not use the situation now it’s opened up, maybe even take over the drugs business in Europe, bring some professionalism into play?”

  “Where does that leave us?”

  “Right now? In real need to get as far away as possible.”

  The Texas Eagle was approaching the small town of Taylor.

  Miles handed me his phone. “The signal’s back.”

  I tried to hide my emotions at the thought of making contact with Julia after all this time apart but Miles wasn’t taken in. “Go on, call her. The hotel number is on the phone.”

  I dialed. There was a long pause and then the sound of the call being picked up at the reception desk at the Allegro. After a long wait a Polish voice replied. “Allegro Hotel.”

  “Room 310, please. Elizabeth Meredith.”

  “Who’s speaking?”

  “John Meredith, her husband.”

  “Mr. Meredi
th, I believe your wife’s at lunch. Shall I disturb her to come to the phone?”

  Before I could reply the line went dead.

  I looked up at Miles who could see my disappointment. “Miles, she’s there but I just lost the line.”

  Chapter 63

  Julia noticed the Italian for the first time at lunch when she was making her way back to her room at the Allegro.

  He was too furtive. While all the time trying to make it look as if he was a regular visitor to the hotel, he was unable to conceal his interest in her. When she got up to leave he followed her at a distance and was now behind her on the stairs.

  Julia pressed the call button on the pager as she led him past Room 306, Craig’s room, and tapped on the door as she passed. As her follower passed the door, Craig appeared, put a gun to the man’s head and motioned him into the room.

  Julia doubled back and followed them in.

  Craig had the man face down on the bed with the gun to the back of his head.

  Julia nodded to Craig. “Sit him up. Let’s see what he has to say for himself.”

  He looked scared and could speak little English. “Don’t shoot.”

  It was a trap.

  The door behind Julia had not been closed.

  Bandini burst into the room. Neither Craig nor Julia had allowed for the fact that the first of them might not be alone. Bandini had a gun and was readying to fire.

  Craig gestured to make it clear he would fire if Bandini did not halt but the way Bandini shrugged his shoulders told him the oncomer wasn’t going to be swayed by the threat to his colleague.

  It was what Craig had been trained to do, to place his body in the way of harm when the client he was protecting was in danger. In a movement he took out the Italian on the bed with a blow to the head with the handgun and placed himself between Julia and Bandini.

  Both men had a gun trained on the other. If either fired, the other would die.

  Craig shouted to Julia. “Leave. Get out and keep running.”

  There was just enough space for Julia to squeeze past and make it to the open door.

  She worked hard to make progress along the hotel corridor but running was difficult this late in pregnancy. Even if she could gain speed, their son would not appreciate the violent movements she would have to make.

  Julia couldn’t know what was happening behind her, how the stalemate between Craig and the Italian might end. She only knew that if Craig lost she had to be out of sight before anyone came out of the room.

  Julia glanced back. There was no one able to see her so far.

  The elevator for this floor was closer now. If she could get inside she could head elsewhere in the hotel and seek help.

  Back in the room there was a gunshot. The Italian that Craig had clubbed had not been disabled for long. He’d lunged at Craig from behind and this had caused Craig’s aim to waver just long enough for Bandini to fire. Craig slumped down, hit in the chest.

  Julia reached the elevator and called it before Bandini emerged from the room and saw her from along the corridor. He raised the gun and was preparing to fire when the elevator doors opened and Julia was able to step inside.

  She knew her best chance of escape was to head for the lobby but her attackers would also know that and would think of using the stairs to arrive there before her. She pressed the elevator button to take her to the top floor. She would buy time and find some way of getting help. The longer she delayed, the greater was the chance that anyone responding to the sound of the gunshot might save her.

  She waited for the elevator to move. If it didn’t move soon, the Italian would be outside and able to open the doors by pressing the call button. Time slowed. Each heartbeat was separated by an endless pause.

  Chapter 64

  Taylor turned into Temple, turned into McGregor, then into Cleburne. At each stop we scanned the station platform to see if Heller had found a way of catching up with the train.

  As we pulled out of each station and there was no sight of him, the feeling grew that we were in the clear as far as the German was concerned.

  Miles spelled it out. “A man like that is above all a realist. He’ll know this is not the time or place.”

  I shook my head. “Doesn’t mean we’re free of him.”

  “Long term, I agree. But right now, isn’t it good to be heading home?”

  “I have to know if Julia’s safe to feel any of that.”

  As the signal to his phone came and went as the train sped between stations, Miles tried to contact Craig and got the same response each time. He showed me the display. “It’s saying no reply.”

  I was afraid to ask. “Which means?”

  “Hard to say from here. Maybe he’s disabled the phone.”

  “I did the same with both phones when we left Weymouth.” It seemed like an age ago, now.

  Miles looked down at the phone again. “For the same reason, I don’t think we can go on using this one. Heller might be off our backs but we still have to worry about Craven. He has the means to find this phone and track it. We shouldn’t be making this easy for him.”

  “I need one last try to contact Julia at the hotel.”

  I took the phone, dialed the number and waited. The phone rang for what seemed an age. The result was a message that said no service.

  Miles tried to help. “Doesn’t mean she’s not safe. Craig’s with her.”

  He held out his hand and took the phone as I gave it to him. “You’re not going to like this but we have to get rid of this now.” He turned off the phone, removed the battery and showed me the two parts. “I’ll take a walk to the restaurant car. On the way, I’ll dump it.”

  Miles returned five minutes later with two coffees in paper cups and no phone. It was lying somewhere back there on the track. It was a wise move yet we had just lost our last hope of contacting Julia.

  Miles could see I was disappointed. “We can try again from a payphone when we get into Dallas-Fort Worth.”

  It didn’t help.

  He tried to keep me on side. “Craig’s a good man. Well-trained. Experienced. He’ll know how to protect her if there’s any sort of problem.”

  I knew I had to accept what Miles was saying. I had to find a way of coming to terms with the brute fact that there was little more that could be done from a distance of five thousand miles.

  Chapter 65

  Julia held her breath.

  The elevator moved.

  The doors had not opened.

  The Italian had been left behind.

  Outside the lift Bandini cursed. The elevator was going up, something he’d not expected. He didn’t like the idea of staying long in the hotel when the police would soon be here to investigate the shooting. He’d supposed she would head down to the lobby where she could have been dealt with and they could have escaped. It would be more difficult now she’d decided to go higher up.

  Asputi, the one who’d baited the trap, had joined him. He gave him instructions. “She’s going up. Use the stairs. Find out which floor she’s on.”

  Bandini waited to see at which floor the elevator would stop.

  Julia was driven by the need to preserve a life in addition to her own. She was thinking now with absolute clarity. She stopped the elevator at each floor and then went on so they would not get to know at which floor she was getting out. There was a nervous wait each time the doors opened and stayed open before closing, during which there was the fear that her pursuers would arrive in the corridor from the stairs, but the timings were on her side as each time the doors closed and the elevator continued moving up before the pursuers arrived.

  She came out on the eighth floor and began moving along the corridor. She knew what she was looking for. Here was the trolley piled with clean sheets and towels that told her that somewhere near here the hotel maids were cleaning the rooms.

  If she could find one of them she could lock herself in the room they were cleaning and use the phone. They must be working somewhere
near here but Julia couldn’t find them.

  Then one of the Italians, the one she’d first seen at breakfast, appeared in the corridor ahead of her. He must have run up the stairs and been checking each floor as she ascended in the elevator. He’d caught up with her as she’d now spent too much time making her way along the corridor.

  She turned and ran as best she could back towards the elevator. The Italian would soon be on her. She knew she wouldn’t make it.

  A door opened.

  A young girl with bed-head hair came out with the intention of heading downstairs. The two women collided.

  Julia placed her foot in the hotel room door to stop it from closing. “Help me! I need to get away from that man.”

  The girl looked back down the corridor to see the Italian approaching at speed, just ten feet away now. “OK. Come inside.”

  The two women fell back into the room. The girl slammed the door behind them and put on the safety chain.

  Julia was still thinking straight. “Get away from the door. They have a weapon.”

  They moved further into the room, out of line of sight of any shot that might come through the door.

  Julia struggled to keep her breath. “Thank you. Thank you.”

  Outside from the corridor was the sound of the door being battered in an attempt to force it open.

  The girl, an American, was trying to come to terms with what was happening. “You mean that guy is trying to kill you?”

  Julia picked up the room phone and dialed reception. They would take their time answering, she was used to that, but it didn’t matter now, she was safe. The moment had passed. The Italians would be turning their attention to how they would escape the hotel given they would know what she was doing now.

  Outside in the corridor, Bandini stepped out of the elevator and approached Asputi who had stopped, gun raised, and was about to attempt to blast open the door. “No time for that. We need to get out. Another chance will come along soon enough.” The two Italians made for the elevator.

  Safe inside the room, as Julia waited for her call to be answered, the girl told her that her name was Moira and she was from Cleveland. She’d always wanted to visit London and now she was fulfilling that dream.