“Is paranoia a key trait of the players of your game, Mr. Bragg?”
“For those who survive, yes, Mrs. Bragg.”
Jenny squeezed my hand as we walked. I picked up the pace since I didn’t want to be out there anymore. I preferred being a long way away and out from under the spotlight. Jenny started to breathe hard in the final block to the car. We jumped in, and I drove away without even spinning up my music. Through the neighborhood on the twisty, narrow lane. Two side streets before going the long way around to get on the highway that took us toward Jenny’s place.
Jenny put the music on for me, clicking through to replay Dreamline . Our song.
I dodged off the highway and made a loop to make sure no one was following, not once but twice. The second time I refilled the gas tank so I could watch the traffic.
Nothing seemed out of order. When we left the highway, we drove a roundabout way to get to Jenny’s house.
Once inside, I brought up my computer and accessed my transfer account. The money was already there. I showed it to Jenny and finally relaxed.
I moved it to my secret account and breathed a sigh of relief.
“I thought you were more a nerves-of-steel guy,” Jenny quipped, pushing her way closer to sit in my lap and pressing her forehead to mine.
“Everything has changed, Miss Jenny. I realized that you were now at risk and will be until we’re out of here. I’ll check on Nader, but I suspect he’s a scumbag. If so, I’ll take care of business, and then we’ll disappear. Jimmy and Clive can continue their manipulations, mixing politics, family, and business.”
“I understand.” Jenny’s arms felt warm around my neck. I stroked her sides. “Are you petting a dog?”
“What?” I realized what I was doing and stopped. “I’m thinking. The money is a nice bonus to take the edge off disappearing.”
“If I may be so bold, how much do you have?”
“We now have four and a half million in cash.”
“More than most people make over their lifetime.”
“It is. And it will last us the rest of ours if we don’t get wrapped up in buying stuff.”
“Does it look like I’m a big fan of material wealth?”
I chuckled. “I noticed you have at least three purses and, like, ten pairs of shoes.”
“Your experience with women appears to be extremely limited. My international man of mystery has never had a serious girlfriend before. Clearly.”
“I resemble that remark.” I squeezed her tightly, inhaling deeply of her scent. “I need to start digging into our Daniel Nader. I have to focus for a while and find what I need to find. I have to build a profile and then start working on a place to take him down. One last job and then retirement. Why don’t you give your sister and brother a call? You said you talk to them a lot.”
“I do, but I’m not sure how much I have in common with them. I can see the conversation now. ‘I met a man, but I can’t tell you about him. I’m going to leave everything for him and he for me.’ Makes us sound like hippies.”
“When you say it like that, it does. It’s better than, ‘My boyfriend and I are running from the mob, but we’re loving life.’”
Jenny kissed me warmly and fully before standing up and leaving me be. I watched her retreat into her bedroom. I pulled the .45 from the back of my waistband and put it on the table next to Jenny’s purse. Then I opened my computer and launched into the dark web to find everything there was to find on my new target.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Chess holds its master in its own bonds, shackling the mind and brain so that the inner freedom of the very strongest must suffer.” Albert Einstein
The rest of Wednesday came and went. I would have thought I’d have gotten an order calling me off the hit, but there was nothing.
Then, Thursday morning disappeared. Digging through the financial machinations of Xterra Worldwide threatened to melt my brain, but I kept at it and then bounced those procedures off comparable hedge funds.
What could have been considered a competitive advantage in setup and execution looked questionable. A man like Clive Barrows would know if it was legitimate. He’d said it wasn’t. Clive had reasons to lie, but I didn’t think he had.
The more I read about Dan Nader, the more he came across as shady. He and Tricia Tripplethorn would have made a great power couple. Invited to all the best parties, even though no one wanted them to show up.
Being unlikeable wasn’t a death sentence. Not even in my book. But cooking the books and destroying the futures of how many investors? I didn’t find anything specific, but there was enough smoke swirling around Xterra Worldwide to tell me there was a fire.
Nader had a good legal team. They had a number of challengers tied up in court, where they would remain quagmired for the next decade. Nader thought he was bulletproof. He’d find out how wrong he was and soon.
I couldn’t give Tricia any additional time to warn him. On Thursday, I drove Jenny to the hotel to pick up her car. She had to go to work, and I needed to scope out the places in the Wonderbeast’s codebook that I could use for illicit meetings.
I checked out a parking garage, a mall, a sports stadium, and a ferry terminal. The mall had the fewest cameras, but I had no idea where he would park. It was such a huge area with a wide variety of options. I suspected the plan was to drive around until he saw Barchetta. I went with a parking garage instead. I entered at 1:07 PM and circled downward. I reached the lowest level and selected a spot on my way toward the ramp up. Few vehicles parked down here. It smelled of sewer runoff.
The lone camera to cover the lowest level had a broken lens. I walked up the ramp to the next level, and the next after that.
Ground level was three floors up. Four other cameras were in place, but they had seen their best days. I had my floppy hat on my head and my coat pulled up. Despite the time of year, the air contained a bite from the mist and lack of sun. No one would question a coat and hat.
The only camera that looked to be marginally operational was the one at the entrance, where drivers entered and left the garage. Out the back, a temporary entrance for construction workers had been opened. Judging by the footprints, half of those using the garage walked in and out using the alternate entrance where there was no video coverage.
It seemed too easy.
That made me question it. I left by the construction entrance. No one cared. I could not see any observation of the area. Around the corner, through the shadows into a building, out the side entrance to a small parking area. Street parking, too. Places to eat. And most importantly, busy enough not to be seen. Business casual was the dress of the day. No suits in this part of town, but no t-shirts either.
I had my plan. Tonight. I needed to send an email. In between, Working Man played in my mind. I drove out of the parking garage at 1:53 PM.
***
I returned to the hotel, cleaned out my room, and checked out, agreeing to pay for one last night. They wanted a forwarding address to send the refund since I had paid in cash. I told them they could check the room now while I waited since I was going to be on the road for another month and would have no access to my mail. I sat in the lobby and browsed my phone.
A television above a fake fire played the news. Jimmy Tripplethorn stood larger than life in the middle of the big screen. I cocked my head to hear what he was saying. The city council had had a disagreement regarding homeless strategies. Three of the members had walked out in protest. That was when Jimmy’d had his epiphany. He’d committed to living on the street with them for a week. They’d called it a stunt and would have nothing to do with it.
Jimmy told the reporter that the cameras needed to stay away so as not to pollute the process. He’d take nothing with him, nothing that could be stolen, nothing to call his own. He’d figure it out like they had to.
People in the crowd were screaming at his lunacy. He’d get killed. He’d get kidnapped. He’d be injured in ways from which he would never
recover.
“If I’m going to lead these people to a better place, I need to know where they are now. What their problems are, why they’re on the street. I must leave my family behind to experience what the homeless experience every day. If we’re to make this better, that’s what I must do. I’ve invited other councilmembers to join me, but they have declined. They will defer to my judgment. You can trust that I will give this my best effort, and it’s going to start today. Right now.”
I found myself standing close to the television, taking it all in. I had met Jimmy and knew this was no stunt. He was punishing himself for what was going to happen. He was willing to die because of what his wife had done and what his father-in-law was doing.
“That is a new level of crazy,” the lady from the registration said. “Leave it to Seattle to bring out the nuts. Your review is complete, sir. I have your refund.”
I clenched my teeth while watching Jimmy hand his suit jacket to an aide, along with everything in his pockets. With one last wave, he walked away from the crowd.
I signed for my refund and thanked the hotel for a great stay.
“Did you get what you wanted from your stay?”
“That and much, much more. I will stay here next time I’m in the area.”
I hurried to my car and raced out of the parking lot. I needed to pick up my gun and get downtown. I drove with the traffic to get to Jenny’s house, sometimes fast, sometimes not.
When I got there, I changed into my freshly washed hobo clothes, checked the M1911A1, and pocketed a second magazine. I had no idea what I would run up against. I assumed I was going into a war zone. The movie Escape From New York came to mind. Call me Snake.
“Why do you have to go? There has to be someone who is protecting him.”
“He doesn’t have security. I learned that when I was casing him. He’s on his own. Even if he wasn’t, I think he would have sent them away. He’s trying to kill himself.” I clenched my fists. “Dammit, Jimmy!”
“You’re going to protect him?” Jenny looked sad even through her smile and sparkling eyes. “I could not be more proud of you. Do what you have to do and then come home to me, Ian.”
“Two birds with one stone,” I said, popping open my laptop. I looked up the words in the codebook and logged into the Wonderbeast’s email.
Chair. Basement. Wind. Chocolate.
I clicked send and then deleted it from the sent folder. I bundled my business casual clothes into a paper bag and threw them into the car. Jenny held the door as I got in.
“Come home to me,” she reiterated.
“I will. I don’t know when, but I will. Be ready to go when I get back. We won’t have much time.”
She nodded and closed the door behind me.
Even driving opposite traffic, the trip downtown seemed to take forever. I parked in a long-term meter lot and paid for a full day. I shuffled away to find out where Jimmy had gone.
Trooping the city streets looking for homeless people wasn’t easy. They hid in the shadows of both nice buildings and dives. It was getting dark, and then it would get real hard. I backtracked to where he started near City Hall and retraced his steps as he had walked away. I shuffled and limped, my overcoat hiding the .45 and my other gear.
How far would Jimmy have wandered?
A couple of boozers were drinking from a bottle.
“You see the future mayor walk through here?” I asked, trying not to sound too coherent. “I have a bone to pick with him.”
“Nah. Got any mickey?”
“Nah. I got rolled last night. Got nothing left.” I muttered and shuffled away. I kept my head down but darted my eyes left and right, looking for those who didn’t want to be seen. The invisible people of the undercity.
An hour passed, then another. Darkness fell. A light rain started. Another hour. Hundreds of dirty faces peered out from under ad hoc shelters. None of them were Jimmy. All of them were miserable.
I walked into cubbyholes and through alleys to see who hid there.
Up ahead, another alley on the edge of downtown. A white shirt. A commotion. I hurried to it. The councilman on the ground. Three homeless men kicking him.
I surged in like a freight train.
A right cross downed the first. A knee kick dropped the second. The third faced me, and I stepped into an uppercut that lifted him off his feet. The man with the injured knee tried to crawl away, but I caught him and hammered a fist into his temple. He crumpled to the ground.
Blood dripped from Jimmy’s nose, his mouth a mess from a split lip. His hands quivered from the pain wracking his body. He curled into himself, seeking solace in the fetal position.
“Come on, Jimmy, stand up. We need to get out of here.” I thought of different leverage. “What about your kids?”
“I’ve failed my kids. I’ve failed my marriage. Nothing else matters. Leave me alone,” he mumbled and covered his face with his hands, one finger sticking up at an odd angle. I took his hand and straightened the finger. He gasped at the pain and feebly pulled his hand away.
“Only dislocated.”
Jimmy whimpered.
I put my back to a dumpster to keep the three vagrants in front of me and any newcomers from sneaking up behind me. “You are better than the rest of us, Jimmy. As much as you might hate it, people like me exist. People like me will keep you safe so you can take care of everyone else. We’ll do what we do in the background, but you need to stay in the light, make the rest of the world a place where people can live better lives. I am going to stay with you out here until you learn what you need to if you want to get the right kind of help for these people. Now come on, we have to go.”
“Won’t the police be coming?” he asked.
“No, Jimmy. There’s your first lesson. Police don’t see homeless-on-homeless crime. No one does. Decent people avoid these wretched souls. Most of them have mental health issues; they are broken and forgotten by society. They keep living the only way they can.”
I pulled Jimmy to his feet. “Are you hurt?”
He looked at me through sad eyes. “My dignity. My pride. My sense of right and wrong. And my nose.”
“It’s going to need some work unless you like the washed-up boxer look.” Jimmy put his arm over my shoulder.
We made it to the corner and then moved slowly down the street until we found a basement entrance that was dark and unoccupied. Jimmy sat on the stoop and wedged into the corner of the door and the frame.
“Weren’t you supposed to kill me? Let me go, and you’ll fulfill your contract.”
“I said I wouldn’t, and that means that I won’t let you kill yourself either. You have a lot to live for, Jimmy. Don’t squander it on a rash decision. Your kids need you. This won’t bring your wife back to you. What she needs is someone to spank her.”
“I don’t abuse my wife.”
“I’m not talking abuse, Jimmy. No wife-beating. Those aren’t real men. I’m talking the right amount to send a tingle through her body. Ignite that passion. She fires on all eight cylinders.”
“You’re now an expert on what my wife likes in bed?”
“I’m now an expert on what Daniel Nader likes to do to the women in his bed.” Jimmy lunged at me. I caught his weak effort at a punch and pushed him back into the doorway. “Sit your ass down. This isn’t to make you feel bad. It’s for you to retake control of your life. You wouldn’t have pulled this if you hadn’t already surrendered. Cut the crap and get back to winning the mayor’s office. To raising your children to be decent citizens like you.”
“You don’t think this will do it?” He gestured toward the blood on his shirt, barely visible in the dim light that penetrated into the depths of our nook.
“Win hearts and minds? Maybe if you do it right, which you aren’t. If you get beaten and carried out of here, you won’t win the sympathy vote. You’ll convince everyone that you’re not as smart as you want them to think. And what if you get your brains splashed across the p
avement? How will that help these people? What kind of crackdown would that lead to?”
Jimmy didn’t answer. I checked my watch. It was late, going on eleven. “Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll stand watch.”
The future mayor wrapped his arms around himself and tried to get comfortable, but he was cold and wet.
I sat on the ground and leaned back across Jimmy’s chest. He shivered against me for twenty minutes before drifting off. This was not how I had intended to spend my evening. I had expected to get some serious naked time with Miss Jenny, but that would have to wait. I sat on the ground in the mist in a basement stairwell in the butt-crack of the high-rent district.
You want me on that wall! Prophetic words. No one wants to know how sausage is made, only that it tastes good. No one wants to know the lengths hard souls will go to keep the rest safe.
I kill bad men for money. I was going to have to change what I told myself. I keep good men safe. I could live with that.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Tactics flow from a superior position.” Bobby Fischer
Jimmy woke around four in the morning, stiff and stuffed up. I moved away, then stood and stretched. Jimmy looked around.
“Gotta take a leak?” I asked. “You know, there are no bathrooms for the homeless.”
He hung his head in shame. I pointed to a small gap between the buildings. He favored the leg that had been injured as he limped over to take care of business, his head twisting back and forth as he watched for people who might see him.
“Can you stand guard for a while? I need to get some sleep.”
Jimmy looked at his wrist, but he had taken off his watch. He tried to guess the time from looking at the sky.
“It’s four in the morning.”
“You stayed up the whole time?”
“Night is the most dangerous. It’s why you see a lot of them sleeping during the day, or slugging the last from their bottle in the evening to take the edge off what the darkness brings.”
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