Cherry Beach Express

by R. D. Cain

  Dewar saved him. She pulled her hands away and stood up.

  “Hello. My name is Angela, call me Ang. I’m trying the case against Carscadden, I’m winning, actually.” Hopkins took her hand.

  “Tara Hopkins; I’m Mr. Carscadden’s personal assistant.”

  “I think you caught your boss trying to console me on a personal issue. I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea. Actually, I date women — and that shirt is great on you.”

  She was doing so well, then she flirted with my secretary. Oy vey. “Can you sit down, Ms. Hopkins? This is getting awkward,” Carscadden suggested.

  She smiled at Carscadden, then took a seat next to Dewar. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “Fine with me.” Dewar smiled at Carscadden before breaking into laughter, obviously enjoying his reaction.

  Carscadden could feel his face flush hot. Trying to get back to business, he racked his brain for a way to get Nastos out of jail. With Scott prosecuting, it seemed hopeless.

  “So, did Scott officially take you off the case — like in writing or anything?”

  Dewar was confused. “Not really.”

  “So if you show up for court tomorrow morning and Scott doesn’t, it’s you again?”

  Dewar nodded like she saw where he was going. “Yeah, I guess it would be me again.”

  “Good. I think I have a way to make sure that happens.”

  23

  October 4, 2011

  NASTOS TOOK EACH STEP FROM the basement holding cell carefully, up the stairs to the court’s side entrance and took his seat next to Carscadden. He was bruised, with partially healed lacerations on his face and hands — the rest of his injuries, bruised ribs, other lacerations were hidden under clothing. By the shocked expression on Carscadden’s face, Nastos figured that he must have looked even worse than he felt.

  Court was full of well-dressed, sweaty human meat of various shapes and sizes. Reporters took up the entire front and back rows on both sides of the aisles. Nastos saw that there were some of the dentist’s other patients, whose children had been molested, as well as a few police service officials and union members. Only the parents of the other victims seemed to have any sympathy for him.

  Dewar sat at her table alone, stoic but tired, leaning over some notes that had been handed to her by the bailiff. She set them aside and began sending a text message on her BlackBerry. Carscadden interrupted his appraisal of her.

  “You look like crap, Nastos,” he said.

  Nastos cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, the welcome wagon offered a courtesy seminar in mixed martial arts.”

  “Lucky bastard. You never know when that’ll come in handy.”

  Nastos offered a weak smile. The bailiff interrupted the murmur in the court by asking everyone to rise for the Honourable Judge Montgomery. The courtroom rose in near unison and Montgomery walked in. Nastos took the longest to get to his feet. Montgomery took his seat. The bailiff then announced, “Please be seated.”

  Nastos whispered to Carscadden, “I thought Scott was prosecuting from here on out?”

  “He had car trouble this morning.” Carscadden smiled. He was proud of himself for making Nastos shake his head.

  “What’d you do?”

  “I punctured two of his tires. Coincidentally, a taxi went by his place, but the driver was some Russian guy who doesn’t know the city very well.”

  “Nice one,” Nastos rubbed his hands together. “So, what’s the plan now?”

  “Watch and learn, Nastos.”

  Dewar took her position at the podium and waited for Montgomery to acknowledge her with a smile before she began. “Your Honour.”

  “Glad you’re feeling better, Ms. Dewar. I thought that Mr. Scott was taking carriage of the prosecution.”

  “He’s not here this morning, Your Honour. I haven’t heard anything from him.”

  Nastos saw that Montgomery didn’t seem to take the news very well. “He knows the start time — maybe this trial isn’t very important to him, but it’s important to me, the jurors and the people of this city. Ms. Dewar, I’d like you to continue the trial and to begin immediately.”

  “Yes, Your Honour. I believe Mr. Scott had planned on calling a Mr. Shawn Eade. Could his name be paged, please?”

  The stenographer picked up the phone and dialled a few numbers. “Shawn Eade to Courtroom 101, Mr. Shawn Eade to Courtroom 101.”

  Nastos turned back to the galley. No one stepped forward. Montgomery seemed to be becoming more angry. “Ms. Dewar, would you like to try your next witness?”

  “Yes. Dr. Michael Hall of the Centre of Forensic Sciences.” Nastos noticed a man getting up from the back of the courtroom. He was wearing a black suit. He was tall, roundish and sweating profusely. The bailiff swore him in and he took a seat.

  Over the next two hours, Dewar asked Dr. Hall four or five questions about his work in blood analysis. Dr. Hall spoke his answers in a steady breathless monotone. After the first half-hour, four members of the jury were asleep. After the next half-hour, two more. Even the elderly crime fiction fan was ready to pack it in. Nastos appreciated that Carscadden never objected once for reasons of relevance to the case. He just let the horror continue. The slideshow, examples, minutia of irrelevant detail bogged the trial down. Montgomery even sent a few text messages of his own; Nastos noticed it before he himself dozed off.

  When his head snapped back, Nastos woke. He gulped a small cup of water and checked out the galley of the court. Half of the people were gone — not asleep, but gone.

  Eventually, Dewar called a stop to the abuse. “Your Honour?”

  “Yes, Ms. Dewar?”

  “I feel we’ve covered a good amount of ground today. Any chance of a break?”

  Montgomery wasn’t happy. “A break? You mean Dr. Hall has more testimony?”

  “Just another few hours, Your Honour.”

  Montgomery shifted in his seat and glanced at the jury apologetically. “I’m sorry, Ms. Dewar, but this testimony is a little on the dry and theoretical side. If there is going to be much more, might I suggest that we break for the day and revisit this tomorrow?”

  Nastos checked the reaction in the courtroom. As Dewar paused to ponder the request, more and more heads began to nod, encouraging, even imploring her to agree.

  “Well, I suppose, Your Honour, but if we’re breaking for the day I just have one brief request.”

  Montgomery turned to the witness. “You’re excused for the time being, Dr. Hall, and thank you so kindly for your informative and thorough testimony.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Dr. Hall smiled, leaving the stand.

  Then to Dewar, Montgomery asked, “What’s your last issue before we break for the day?”

  Carscadden kicked Nastos under the table and smiled to Dewar.

  “Yes, Your Honour,” she began, “I’d like to revisit the issue of court-ordered detention for Mr. Nastos. I think he’s learned a lesson to take his bail conditions more seriously and I don’t think it serves the public to house and feed him at the government’s expense when there are alternatives.”

  Carscadden rose to his feet.

  Montgomery asked, “Going to object, Mr. Carscadden?”

  “No, Your Honour, no objection here.”

  “Granted, for now, Ms. Dewar, but Mr. Carscadden, if your client is careless again, he’s going to regret it.”

  “Agreed, Your Honour.”

  THEY MET AT FRANKIE’S RESTAURANT: Nastos, Carscadden, Dewar and Hopkins. Instead of the usual staff table, the waitress moved them to a private room in the back.

  Carscadden slid a digital print across the table for Dewar to examine.

  “The guy in my office,” she said.

  Carscadden said, “The guy in my office too. Barely left an intact piece of drywall. James North.”

 
; Nastos flipped the picture around and appraised the man. “He’s ex–Metro Drug Squad. He worked with Koche. He got his hands caught in the cookie jar and was fired five years ago. Back then, he was taking steroids and beating the hell out of people, when he wasn’t stealing their money and drugs.”

  Hopkins asked, “Is he single?”

  Carscadden was encouraging, “Single and looking.”

  Nastos slid the picture back to Carscadden. “That’s my friend from the hallway. And Carscadden, why didn’t you tell me your office was trashed?”

  Carscadden couldn’t hide his indignation. “Because I felt the need to tell you everything about as much as you felt the need to tell me everything.” Before Nastos could say anything, Carscadden added, “Did I know about you and Dewar? No. Have you ever told me where you were that night? No. Why do most people at your work hate you? I’ve got no friggin’ idea. You’re more questions than answers, Nastos.”

  Nastos disputed nothing. “I trust you now, Carscadden. It takes a while to tell how dirty other people are willing to get to do the right thing. Most don’t have a stomach for it, and we all have lines that we won’t cross. I was trying to protect you, as cheesy as it sounds.”

  Carscadden shook his head. “Yeah, that’s a debate we’ll have to finish later, when we get this mess sorted out. Let’s get back to North — he’s the real problem here. We all have a reason to want to teach him a lesson and in Dewar’s case, to get her stuff back.”

  Dewar added, “And while you were in jail, he broke into your house and left a picture on your wife’s dresser of us together from years ago.”

  Nastos saw that Dewar took some enjoyment out of pushing that button herself. She wanted to make sure he was going to be in on whatever was going to happen with North. Still, it felt like an emotional betrayal on Dewar’s part to wedge herself between him and his wife. He breathed and tried not to show the degree of hurt he felt. Through gritted teeth he said, “Trust me, Ang, I don’t need any encouragement. This guy’s going to wish he’d never been born.”

  Nastos clenched his fists, feeling the rage build up inside; it was a warm sensation and provided a singularity of purpose.

  A waitress came over to take drink orders. She smiled at Carscadden. “Viktor is going to be happy when he hears you were here. And with two such beautiful women.” She smiled at Dewar and Hopkins. “What can I get you to drink? Everything’s on the house for Mr. Carscadden and his guests, so don’t be shy, ladies.” The woman had a mild Russian accent. Tall, brunette, a little on the thin side.

  Dewar ordered an Australian Shiraz; Hopkins said that she might as well bring the bottle. The waitress left and soon enough came back with two bottles and more bread and vinegar along with a shrimp platter. She passed out the menus, saying “Just let me know when you’re ready —”

  Nastos interjected. “I’ll take the sixteen-ounce rib steak, medium well, the baked potato and house salad, some garlic bread, and I’ll start with some calamari.”

  She asked, “Anyone else ready?”

  Carscadden said, “No, give us five minutes.” She left with the one order.

  Carscadden asked, “Little hungry, Nastos?”

  He smiled. “Yeah, well, jail food isn’t as good as they make it look on tv.”

  Dewar asked Nastos, “So, what’s the plan? How do we get my stuff back?”

  Carscadden pulled out his cell. “Here, I’ll just phone buddy up and ask.”

  Dewar added, “I want them back before he listens to them — or worse, gives them to anyone.” Dewar poured some wine and started on the shrimp.

  Nastos took a sip of wine. “We’re going to have to be up close and personal for what I have in mind. Dewar, call him up, make a date.”

  Dewar took out her phone but stalled. “Are you up to this, Nastos? I heard the hallway didn’t go so well.”

  Nastos exhaled, his impatience growing by the minute, “This guy’s a loser, he’s not Genghis Khan. Call him up and arrange a meeting. Tell him whatever he wants to hear; when we get there, he’s going to get a surprise.”

  She dialled.

  Ms. Hopkins asked. “What are you going to offer him, Dewar?”

  “I speak the international language.” She flipped the picture side back up, appraising the man.

  Nastos watched her take a breath and prepare.

  NORTH WAS IN THE SPARE bedroom that he had set up for working out. One wall was all mirror, another had a tv mounted in the corner on a swivel in front of a treadmill. He was sitting at the bench press, shirtless, in jeans with a towel around his neck. When his cell rang, he answered it.

  “North,” he said.

  “Yes, you seem to know a lot about me, but I don’t know much about you. You were in my office?”

  He paused. “Ms. Dewar, how can I help you?”

  “You have my tapes and I’m willing to pay you to get them back.”

  “I don’t think you have more money than my client. You can’t afford me.” He twisted the phone in his hand to access the end button with his thumb, but paused when she said, “How about fifty thousand dollars?”

  He listened intently for the answer. “You don’t have it.”

  “I do, Mr. North, and that is what those tapes are worth to me.”

  He began wondering if this was a stall, a way to trace him. But she had his name and number — she must already have his address. She could write a warrant herself for the cops to just break the door down. She doesn’t want the cops involved or else they would be here already. “Why don’t you come over and we can see if we can work something out? There’re more valuable things in this world than money. For example, the patient list from the dead dentist. I saw the names, Dewar. I know what you’ve kept hidden and I know why. You’re in this deeper —”

  “Okay, okay,” she said.

  North enjoyed the silence from the other end of the phone. He had struck a nerve. He could ask for anything he wanted. He had total control over her.

  “Seems like you’ve been keeping secrets, Madam Prosecutor. If you’ll pay fifty grand for the tapes, surely the list is worth an evening of your life.” North thought about her delicious body and what he was going to do to it. “Drop by tonight at ten,” he continued. “Come alone and be ready for a good time.”

  There was the slightest hesitation in her reply. “You’ll have everything ready for me?”

  “If I get what I want, you’ll get what you want.”

  “Well, Mr. North, sounds like you’re going to get the rodeo ride of your life.”

  “I’ll see you soon.”

  They both hung up.

  Her last sentence rang through his mind again and again. He couldn’t believe he had heard it. The bitch was going to give it up. Moving to his bedroom closet, he opened a tiny hidden door he had installed on the side wall. A small panel almost resembling a breaker panel was mounted there. He flipped a few switches and returned to the workout room, turning on the tv and dvd player. The screen warmed and came to life, showing a split screen with multiple angles from the master bedroom. He slid a blank dvd into the player/recorder and set the timer to start at ten p.m., just in case he forgot to set it later.

  24

  NASTOS GOT OUT OF THE BACK seat, aching and sore. They had parked down the street from North’s condo building, away from the vacant lot so there was no chance he could see them. Carscadden put his truck in park and turned off the engine. Dewar got out on the passenger side and closed the door. He didn’t know how much he could count on them to keep their cool. North was a dangerous man and they were about to hit him where he lived.

  Nastos stretched, making sounds like a tired dog. “I should have drunk less wine.”

  “I should have drunk more wine,” Dewar replied. She smiled but still seemed scared as she walked around the truck. He shook his head, knowing what she was talking abo
ut. Hopkins had reluctantly agreed that someone should stay at the office in case they got into trouble. If no one called her in one hour, she’d call Nastos’ ex-partner Jacques and tell him everything.

  It was a cool night, the kind that held the faintest scent of winter with calm winds and a sky full of constellations.

  Carscadden rolled down his window. “This is stupid. Sorry. We should just forget it.”

  Nastos said, “We have no choice, Carscadden. We’re just going to talk to him all nice and see where it goes.” Carscadden began drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He was antsy.

  Nastos grabbed Dewar’s hand and tugged her toward North’s apartment. “Okay. No screwing around, let’s just do what we need to do and get the hell out of here.”

  He scanned the condo building, recalling which windows were North’s. He would have felt a lot better if he had a gun.

  “Ready?” Dewar asked.

  Carscadden called out to Nastos, “When we’re in jail, I’m calling the top bunk.”

  NORTH WAS IN HIS BEDROOM, finishing the final touches by positioning his video cameras throughout the room. He had the ceiling covered with one in the ceiling fan and had every corner covered with a cell phone camera, an iPod for audio and two other cameras he had bought from the spy store downtown on Yonge Street. He wasn’t going to be able to zoom in for anything, so he wanted wide coverage from all angles for future editing.

  After he was done with the cameras, he lit a few candles and pulled some incense out of a drawer where he kept a variety of lubricants, vibrators, feathers and restraints — first date stuff. After one last look around, he figured that he had everything covered. For a pre-game warm-up, he grabbed a Scotch and sat down across from the tv in the living room to review the previous footage he had obtained of Dewar in her bathroom, half-naked, plucking her eyebrows. He tried to relax, but his heart was racing. He had had a shower earlier, but he could smell the nervous sweat from his armpits. He checked his watch; he didn’t think he had time for another shower. He sure as hell was not going to miss it when Angela Dewar came calling to give up her body to get her stupid tapes back. No sir, he was going to answer the door on the first knock before she got cold feet. She’ll just have to shower with me when she gets here. I don’t have any video in there, but I won’t be long.