The row of warehouses were all separated and she could see there was a path running behind them. It was ten feet wide, which meant she could walk down it with ease, but if anyone was out back, she’d be spotted in an instant. Mary Lou considered the odds, weighing up any other options open to her which didn’t involve storming the front with her pistol and rifle. One against at least four? Not great odds at all.
Time seemed to drag and no better idea popped into her head. So Mary Lou checked the position of her revolver and sauntered away from the warehouse so she could nip to the path without being too visible. Three warehouses away, she had a straight line of sight to the heroin hotel. Nothing. She crept forward, making sure she was never more than two feet away from a building wall: this minimized the angle for anyone stood on the back step as she approached.
By the time she reached the corner of the warehouse, her breathing was in overdrive. She paused and hugged the rear wall with her back, fingers touching the brickwork. Five minutes rest to turn her lungfuls into silent gasps.
The rear door was painted dark green and a sign was attached, noting people should keep clear as it was a fire escape. Mary Lou edged nearer until she could touch the handle. Then she bristled as she heard a crunch on the path. She looked around and saw Bobby ten feet away, approaching from the other side. Her quizzical expression spoke volumes.
“Wanted to make sure you were okay. Someone needed to watch you back.”
“Get the fuck outta here!”
“No can do. You can’t do everything by yourself. I can help.”
Mary Lou became concerned their whispering might be heard inside and scurried over to stand by Bobby’s ear. She flitted her eyes left, then right, and snorted out her words.
“Listen carefully. You are not welcome here. You are not needed here. Your time has long since gone and you are of no use to me.”
“You don’t want to hear this, but you are wrong. You need me more this minute than at any other point in your life. The guys in there are lowlife pond scum and, whatever they’re up to, they’d drop you soon as look at you.”
Beat.
“And you know that, deep down.”
Mary Lou blinked and carried on eyeballing the man. Bobby felt her exhalations hitting his cheek. Could tell how far on the edge she was standing. On the precipice. The question was whether she’d see reason and back down, swallowed pride and all.
“I’ve got to know if they are in there. They could be on the other side of that wall for all I know.”
Mary Lou waved a hand toward the brickwork a few feet away and Bobby’s eyes followed the direction of her fingers and darted back to her face.
“If they are, we will find out together. There’s five fellas in there minimum.”
“I only counted four.”
“Five to my certain knowledge. And there could be some who are staying indoors to supervise.”
“You saying we should leave?”
“No, I’m saying we should think smart.”
Beat.
“Let’s take it slow and find out what we need to - without getting caught.”
“How?”
“Put your ear to the door and listen.”
Truth was Mary Lou hadn’t considered that even for an instant. She did as he suggested, craning into the wooden green slats to get better access to anything going on inside. Three, maybe four, minutes later and she removed her ear from the door.
“Well?”
“They’ll be finished in a few minutes. After this morning’s activity, they are cleaning the place out and I heard talk of lighting a fire.”
“Any need for us to go in?”
“No, Bobby. Frank Jr and Alice aren’t in there.”
“Shall we go home then?”
Mary Lou nodded and they scurried away, down the path and back onto the road and the parking bays.
“Thank you.”
Mary Lou pecked Bobby on the cheek and he smiled. She turned to fumble for her car keys and, before she could look up, Bobby had vanished into the dusk. Perhaps he had been an operator in his day. She got in the car and drove home with no greater knowledge about her kids than when she left. Sometimes men can be right, she sighed to herself.
27
Pasquale, Fabio and Arnold were sat where she left them - no clear movement whatsoever. There were coffee cups on the table to show they had made themselves at home. Mary Lou wondered how comfortable they had become and to what extent they’d taken advantage of her absence to check out the summerhouse or her panties drawer. Neither was positive.
“Any word?”
“Nothing yet. How did you guys get on?”
“They weren’t there.”
Bobby nodded confirmation but added no noise at all. He let attention remain on Mary Lou, who sat down and resumed her wait. Bobby returned to her side and everyone remained precisely where they had originally landed earlier in the afternoon. Mary Lou glanced at the clock on the mantlepiece and saw five to midnight. A long day with no sign of ending anytime soon.
Two minutes later, the phone rang. Mary Lou’s hand darted over and grabbed the receiver. Bobby heard a muffled male voice, but couldn’t hear a word that was said.
“For you.”
She passed the phone over to Fabio.
“Yes? ... Uh-huh.”
More muffled noises until Fabio put the receiver down - and smiled.
“We have a location and eyes on the building.”
“How far? Who?”
“Let’s talk along the way. It’ll take us thirty minutes to get there. Who’s coming?”
Pasquale explained he wouldn’t be part of the rescue party. He was happy to offer more men if she needed it, but he no longer participated in any operations. No-one was surprised about this. He was a made man and, despite Mary Lou’s feelings, this was insufficiently big-league for Pasquale to be seen with a gun in his hand.
Roach stood up, removed guns from various holsters and checked the clips. He put them all back and announced he was in.
“Thanks, Arnold.”
Fabio was next to bow out, but again there were no gasps of amazement. Men like Fabio do not get their hands dirty saving kidnapped children. That left Bobby and nobody thought he’d be coming along, not even as the chauffeur.
“You stay here, Bobby. You can relay messages to Fabio otherwise we’ll be out there on our own.”
“Sure thing.”
“Where’s Milton?”
Beat. Come to think of it, where the hell was that man? Mary Lou hadn’t seen him since he went off with their score after lunch. Had he run off with the powder or had he gone to ground somewhere? Perhaps he’d been taken too.
“Anyone know how to get in touch with Albert Nardi? We could do with his skills right now, with or without Milton.”
“You need any more muscle? A small group is better than an army but only three is not enough, surely?”
“Two more trusted souls would be great.”
“Consider it done. I’ll send them straight to the venue.”
“And where is that, then?”
There was a simple reason no-one had found the kids in Palm Springs: they weren’t there. If anyone had been sent north to Desert Hot Springs, on the other side of the freeway, they would have found a grassy space to the west near the corner of Pierson Boulevard and Golden Eagle Road. A two story white building in the shape of a cross stood opposite eight storage buildings. Gray concrete and monotone walls. Nothing to look at but plenty to find inside.
The time arrived to get back Mary Lou's babies.
Part 10: Easter Sunday April 11, 1971
28
They crouched by the white wall of the building on the other side of the road. Mary Lou understood she had to wait for the cavalry to arrive in the form of two men in dark suits: Anastasia Serafini and Naldo Pavone. Their introduction was a simple nod and a grunt, and they hunkered down along with the rest.
“We’ll split up: Arnold and I will
take the front and you two see if you can find an entrance round the back.”
“We’re looking for kids, right?”
“They are my children, yes. Try to keep people alive until Alice and Frank Jr are found and we are certain they are safe. After that, I don’t care if any of them walk out or are carried out in a body bag.”
The two newcomers did’t need to be given their instructions twice and vanished into the inky blackness. Roach and Mary Lou waited ten seconds and then headed to the corner of their building to peep round the wall and assess how they’d get to the front without being spotted.
One guy stood by the entrance, hands in pockets. Slouched against the brickwork, he was not expecting any trouble and had lulled himself to a point of distracted boredom. The door was shut behind him. Arnold and Mary Lou stared at the guy for seven, maybe eight, minutes. No-one else came in or out: just the dude leaning against the wall waiting for trouble to start.
Mary Lou checked her piece yet again, but this time kept it in her hand.
“You keep me covered and I’11 walk straight up to him.”
“I could put a slug through his head from here.”
“I don’t doubt your professional ability, but we need him to land silently.”
“Understood. Nothing personal. Use this if you get close enough.”
He proffered a small knife he’d hidden up his sleeve. Mary Lou had definitely not noticed it before. Arnold was a consummate assassin. She slid the blade into her back pocket. It was only three inches long so fit snuggly with the handle sticking out, easy to reach.
She walked onto the sidewalk and crossed the street, careful to ensure she appeared from the corner of the road. The warehouse stood resolutely at the end of the row: nowhere to hide. She glanced up and down the road but there was no-one visible. When she looked back at the white building, Arnold had blended into the night or he’d moved to a different vantage point. Either way, he was gone.
Her throat was dry and she swallowed to generate some spit. There was a twenty feet path from the sidewalk to the three steps leading to the guy and the entrance door. He had registered her existence and stopped his leaning, although both hands remained in his pockets. Mary Lou pulled out a cigarette from her bag and pretended to fumble for a box of matches.
“Hey bud!”
She sauntered along the path to give the air of a lone girl needing help. Mary Lou couldn’t see how anyone would buy that story, but it was all she had. She tried to squint at his hands to see if he was holding a piece, but the sole street light was behind her and she cast a shadow on the front door. Her outline reduced as she got nearer to the goon. Six feet ... five, four, three ...
“What you want, missy?”
“Got a light?”
“Wait there.”
“Whatever you say, babe.”
He scurried down the steps and put a hand into his pants pocket. Mary Lou prepared herself for whatever would happen next. The knife remained gripped in her palm and she was painfully aware of the light shining over her shoulder. He squinted and she realized the street light was too bright for him.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks, bud.”
Mary Lou completed the two feet journey and he flicked the flint wheel of his lighter. It sparked into action and she looked into his dark brown eyes. He cupped the flame and she put a hand to his back. As she leaned in, bending her head sideways as though to take her cigarette to the fire, she plunged the knife into his chest. Mary Lou pushed the blade in as far as it would go using the force of her hand on his back. His eyes widened, shocked by what had just happened. Then she pulled the metal out and shoved it into his throat and tried to wiggle it side to side.
He slumped to the ground, gurgling and clutching his chest and larynx. She bent down and stabbed him in the heart in case the first two hits hadn’t been enough to do him in. Then she looked up and down the street: no-one had appeared. All was quiet and calm.
Roach came out from out the darkness and they dragged the body along the wall of the warehouse, away from any windows. Before the blood crept over the entire corpse, Roach checked each pocket in every item of clothing. A wallet, two sets of keys and a packet of cigarettes made up his worldly possessions.
“The light is shining straight at him. We’re gonna need to shift his carcass out of here.”
“Moving him is more likely to garner unwanted attention than anything else.”
Mary Lou thought for a second and nodded consent. Arnold rolled the guy over so he faced the wall and was half-perched between the gray brickwork and the black tarmac. His bleeding front was now hidden from sight and he presented darkened clothing to any casual passerby. Anyone walking up the path to enter the building would know they were staring at a corpse. But who’d be paying a visit at this time of night?
“This way.”
Arnold padded up the steps and put an ear to the door. Nothing. He tried one key after another until the lock turned and he was able to push the door ajar. Mary Lou removed her pistol from her waistband and her stomach knotted. She clenched her piece and followed Roach inside.
THE ENTRANCE OF THE warehouse comprised a large space with three doors leading off into the unknown. All was quiet and Arnold chose one of the three, seemingly at random: left, right or straight ahead.
Once upon a time, this was a reception area but now there was a counter and space for a desk, filing cabinets and the makings of an office, but no furniture or any sign this was used nowadays or that they could expect anyone to appear either.
Back to the second door and Arnold tried the handle. Nothing. He and Mary Lou looked at each other, not understanding what was happening. How could it be locked? She shook her head and in the quietest voice she could muster:
“Let me try.”
She gripped the handle until her knuckles were white, and twisted. The door opened just a hairline crack and Mary Lou glanced at Arnold and shrugged. She pushed at the door some more and one eye squinted into the light beyond. There was a staircase in the foreground leading both upstairs and down. Further away was a large room filled with boxes sitting on shelving.
Mary Lou just about made out the silhouette of a man grabbing a cardboard cube and then walking off out of sight. She waited to see if there was any more activity visible, but the guy didn’t return. Nor did any of his friends appear. A beat and then they scurried to the stairs.
Arnold looked up and down, but saw jack.
“Where now?”
“Let’s finish this floor and only then try somewhere else.”
They scooted toward the shelving and found a labyrinth of aisles formed by the boxes. A small army would take at least an hour to check the whole area. There was only the two of them and they didn’t have the time. Instead, they stood as still as mannequins and listened hard. If the guy she’d seen was on the floor, his footsteps were too far away to hear.
“Up or down?”
“Up?”
Mary Lou nodded consent and they padded back to the stairs and on to the second floor. The stairwell was industrial in size, so they arrived at the other end of the set of steps, guns pointing into the void. Near the stairs was an entrance comprising clear plastic strips hanging from the ceiling, each four inches wide. While the strips were technically transparent, you could see no detail looking through them. All Mary Lou and Arnold knew for sure was that no-one stood immediately the other side. Beyond that was anyone’s guess.
Arnold counted down with his fingers - three, two, one - and they both pushed through and stood the other side, arms aiming guns left to right in case trouble was standing, waiting for them. But, again, there was nobody there and nothing much to see. In the far distance, Mary Lou made out the sound of some machinery. She looked askance at Arnold.
“We’d better check it out.”
She nodded and they edged their way through the gloom toward the metallic sounds. There were planks of wood and various lumps of debris scattered along their route, but
eventually they reached an outside wall and realized they’d missed whatever machine they thought they’d been tracking. They stood a breath apart. Arnold craned his head and pointed to his right. Mary Lou thought for a second and knew he was correct.
Two minutes later, they found a partition wall and the sound was much louder now. Arnold ducked down below the solid lower half of the fake wall and padded along until they reached a swing door. With the most simple of hand gestures, Arnold indicated for Mary Lou to remain where she was.
He let the barrel of his gun peep through the other side, then allowed one eye and his nose to follow. His body vanished for a moment and then it reappeared.
“Nothing doing. It’s a packaging plant, but I didn’t have time to see what’s being boxed up. Doesn’t matter right now...”
“Because Alice and Frank Jr weren’t there.”
“Yep.”
Back to the stairs and another decision: up again or back down? Up, but this time the floor was emptier than the last, so they returned to the first story and took a moment before hitting the basement. There had been no sign of Anastasia or Naldo. Either they were downstairs or they’d run away before the game got going. Of course, another possibility was that they’d been caught and were spilling their guts as Mary Lou thought this through.
Come to think of it, they hadn’t found any rear entrance. Had their men entered via the basement? There had been no shots fired - that they’d heard - all was quiet apart from the low level hum emanating from the packing machine. The only thing to do was head to the floor below and everything would become clear.
“Let's get this done.”
Like before, they each stood at the far end of a step to give best line of sight on anything that was about to appear. They edged down until they crouched at the bottom of the stairwell - a concrete floor comprising only a ten by ten feet space and two doors.
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