Ded Reckoning

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Ded Reckoning Page 10

by William F Lee


  Hunter releases his grip on the M39 in his back belt line and shakes hands with Bradovich. The detective looks and points with his head towards Hunter's Vette and says, "Ol' buddy, why is bra singular and panties plural?" Both start laughing.

  "Brad, I haven't heard that pathetic question since you asked that Navy nurse at the Hong Kong Hilton when we were on R&R. Remember what she said?"

  "Yeah. She called me a supercilious, snide asshole. I told her I wasn't silly but was super."

  "Yeah, you did but she didn't mean what she said. She was just upset that you wouldn't give her a tumble."

  "No. That you didn't."

  "Yeah, well, something like that. What's up? Why the tail?"

  "Just watchin' your six for a time." He shrugs, then, "Talked to the SAC man today. He says they don't have a make on this guy. Don't have anything back yet and that Oboe is a ghost."

  "Well, Brad, my friend. I appreciate your concern, but I've got a handle on things. The bomber wasn't after me. It's of no concern to me other than he killed a friend. And ..."

  "And a good lookin' one, too." Bradovich lowers and shakes his head, mumbles, "I've seen her before. Knew of her. Nice gal. Married to a Marine Lieutenant once upon a time. He was killed in Nam." Then Bradovich's head comes up, and he says, "As always you seem to be surrounded by 'em," nodding toward the Vette.

  "Well, this one is my Property Manager and my assistant. She will be helping me become an author. Good editor and solid researcher. Besides, I never mess with the help."

  "Her husband was a good guy. Knew him strangely enough. Just upped and disappeared on liberty one night in Hong Kong of all places. Funny matter is that the Navy CID guy was on to something. Thought possibly it wasn't just a disappearance. But, suddenly it all got scraped. Strange. And now, here she is ... on you like a flea on a dog. Anyway, he would have liked you."

  "He did. I met him once. What is this other shit you were goin' on about?"

  "Just what I said, Skipper. Just what I said. Remember, if it smells like shit, it probably is. The whole business with her husband smelled bad. Her too."

  "Brad, I believe I got the message. And he was a good guy, and possibly a little too tough just to vanish. I'll remember that. And ol' buddy, you remember. This isn't my first patrol nor ambush."

  Gene shoves his hands in his pockets, drops his head momentarily, then it comes back up and he says, "Okay, Lima Six Actual. I read you loud and clear. But I've got your back and if you need something, call." He pats Hunter on the shoulder. "Oh, by the way, your home phone is tapped. Feds. Better check both. You guys always have another. And hers, too. And I see you cut the crime scene tape. Put it back if you leave so folks will know you're a law abiding citizen and not a revengeful, obstinate old lion on the prowl."

  "Well, I am, but not old. And both what?"

  "Phone lines, Skipper. This is ole' Lima One Actual. Remember? Your ever lovin', loyal platoon commander. Followed you into the Vill's more than once. Been to the dance before. Just watch yourself, and if you need something, anything, call me and we'll get somewhere we can talk without echoes. Semper Fi." Bradovich feigns a punch to Hunter's gut and slides back into his own car.

  Hunter doesn't flinch. He doesn't take feints. As a rule hammers first. He slaps the roof of Bradovich's car. Bends down to the rolled down window and says smiling, "Roger. Out." And strides away to the Vette as the ferry is about to dock on the San Diego side. Gets in the car and says to Dee, "Old friend. Good to have."

  "Yeah, so am I."

  Hunter shakes his head, "You never give up, do you?"

  "Nope. You might as well though." She leans over and pecks him on the cheek. "That's just to make your ole' buddy back there groan and be in a little pain for the remainder of the evening if he thinks what I'm thinking." She settles back in her seat with a giggle as they bump and clump off the ferry onto the landing. She adds, "You owe me at least two."

  "Two what?"

  "I've made two moves, so I deserve two in return."

  "Okay, a brandy and the Jacuzzi makes two."

  "It's one, but it's a start. It's a start."

  The Vette leaps forward, screeching and skidding sideways just a bit as Hunter turns and accelerates onto Harbor Drive.

  Rocco and Adrianna spend the early evening in the Grand Hotel Duomo's restaurant. The seafood here is splendid and Rocco's only complaint is that perhaps it is not as good as what he can wrestle up at home, more accurately Pisces' home. Adrianna is not diminutive, but in comparison to the hulk of Rocco DeStefano she appears so. She has frosted her hair, highlighting its natural dark brunette flavor. And she is shapely, with slender legs appearing more contoured in her spiked heels; sleepy eyed and moves smoothly and easily like a leopard on a nightly stroll. Rocco is simply huge and thick, neck to ankles with powerful looking hands, but he too moves with the grace of one of the great cats.

  After dinner the two adjourn to the bar. He for his Amaro Fernet Branca. Good for the digestion and some say medicinal. It got its fame in Milan more than a hundred years ago by its producer, Bernardino Branca. Pisces, although a brandy drinker, introduced Rocco to this treat. Adrianna on the other hand has more simple tastes. Although she enjoys her Sambuco in late afternoon, she prefers Amaretto di Saronno in the evenings after dinner. To her it is like Sambuco but with less alcohol. This is important because she will be expected to be active and attentive this evening. To be not so is not good with Rocco. His behavior can be his behavior; hers is to be as expected or better. Between sips and fresh drinks they dance. The tiger and the leopard. Moving smoothly and easily but the striped cat looking dangerous as his eyes continue to prowl, to search.

  At no time during the meal, or now, does Rocco bring up Antonio's name. He cares, is interested, but he will discover what he needs to know about locating Antonio Rizzo tomorrow or the next day, or the next. Then he will visit with the man. No need to hurry this task. Patience is a pleasure of the hunt, as the kill is the pleasure of persistence. Tonight is for himself, and Adrianna. Tomorrow for Carmen and his family, and Pisces. Then perhaps a few more days with Adrianna, then Rizzo and his loose tongue. Besides, Rocco's apparent leisurely visit will cause Antonio to worry more, then when nothing happens, become curious. Then careless.

  Adrianna stares at Rocco after this last dance set. She finally gets his attention after enduring the minutes of his wandering mind. It was his mind, not his prowling eyes. She had glanced around, and there is no competition in this old hotel bar tonight. When their eyes connect she says in her native language, "Rocco, the hole in my heart needs mending. Let's tend to it before the band leader and surgeon Branca tires of their favorite patient, yes?"

  "Ah, yes, because Rocco DeStefano may tire of Branca and the music, but never of Adrianna. And I remind you, my love, it is always you that begs for breathing space."

  She leans forward, nibbles his ear. "Not this night." Then whispers, "Ti amo."

  He smiles, shakes his head slowly and in a whisper in his native language and accent, "I believe I too love you. And now may be the time in our lives to enjoy that, and life."

  She replies, "Good. Wonderful."

  As they stroll out of the bar, into the reception area and towards his room, they do not see the straining eyes watching from the darkness in the far corner of the lobby, away from all activity.

  To the delight of Gina, Roberto Catalano has decided to spend the evening, and the next several days on his 98' Fratelli Benetti inanimate toy, the Sorridenta. With an aft sun deck. Its sun deck will keep Gina occupied for at least some of the time. In addition it has deck space for fishing or diving. It's the fishing that attracts Pisces, at least during the times he is recuperating from time with his animated toys, such as Gina now. She is insatiable. And like her, the fresh caught fish make wonderfully tasty and fulfilling meals.

  They leave after dark to minimize observation. Not that it would draw much attention, but little is good, none, better. He takes the Sorridenta out himself, then
once in deep water allows his crew chief to take the helm and the crew member chef to prepare and serve dinner. They cruise for a time after dinner, then anchor up for the night. There is always one armed crew member awake at all times on watch. And all the crew know better than to ogle Gina for the consequences are grave. And that is not a play on words as one crewman discovered when Anna was aboard some time ago.

  After dinner Roberto and Gina sit on the aft sundeck. Catalano has one of his specially ordered Joya De Nicaragua cigars and his brandy. Gina sits at his side. Quiet. Staring at her man now, running her finger up his arm, across his cheek. Nibbling at his ear and neck on occasion as he takes in those effortless draws. She samples his cigar at his prompting, and she does it in an evocative manner. Her life has changed. For how long is always a question when around Pisces, perhaps not around Roberto Catalano. But then, when is Pisces present and when Roberto Catalano. To live is to know.

  Gina squirms in her chaise lounge and nibbles on his ear again, breathing a whisper, "I am wet. I need you now," and nips his neck and suckles his ear lobe with her lips.

  Roberto tosses his about spent cigar overboard and growls at his tigress in heat, "Then here and now it will be," as he tumbles onto her, tipping over the chaise lounge. It is here on the decking as he pulls a white leather seat cushion from a bench with one hand, lifts her skirt with the other and with both plunks her panty-less butt onto the cushion.

  Once near home, Hunter turns onto Jutland, by-passes Atwell Street, his usual turn that runs into Arcola at the cul-de-sac. Instead he goes a long block further and turns into the top end of Arcola, lights off, and stops. He looks down towards his and Dee's homes, and the cul-de-sac at the bottom of the hill. They sit for several minutes. A police patrol car is still parked against the dead-end railing on the cul-de-sac. Hunter says, "Brad's word is his bond. As long as I'm here, someone is going to be out front, or somewhere close. I guess that's good. Let's go." He turns the lights back on and drives down the slight hill and into his garage. They get out and go directly into the house through the inside garage door. Hunter heads to his room saying, "I'm going to change, okay? Be back in a jiffy. I'll meet you in the tub with the drinks."

  "Okay. And I'll just have some of that pancake syrup you call brandy."

  "Heard ya. Be nice."

  Dee murmurs, "I'm goin' to be more than nice." Utterly clueless.

  Hunter returns, pours two snifters of apricot brandy and goes out onto the patio. He hands one snifter to Dee who is already in the sunken Jacuzzi at the end of the pool. Sets his down and slides in next to her. Turns slightly, then lurches back from her like a hooked yellow tail. "Dammit, Dee. You're not wearing a damn thing. Where the devil is your ..."

  "I know. I know. But I hate to put on a cold damp suit. Sorry. Just don't look. Besides, the bubbles hide everything."

  "The bubbles don't hide a damn thing. Nothing does."

  "So?"

  He picks up his snifter, takes a gulp and growls, "You ... Are ... Dangerous." Takes just a sip this time slides a good two feet away. Then inches another foot from her, sliding his brandy snifter along the ledge. She laughs at his defensive choreography.

  The mood changes as quick as a toad's tongue when Hunter begins talking in a business tone of voice about his plan. The tone and the substance get her undivided attention. For the first time today, and yesterday late, she seems to have her mind on something other than seducing him. She asks questions here and there, but most of the time she is intent on listening. Nodding in agreement or comprehension. At the end he pauses, takes a last sip of brandy and says, "Well, generally, what do you think of it?"

  "I think it'll work. I don't think Zachary will like it. Probably won't go along with it, but then, who knows. You're the boss."

  "Yeah, it would seem. But if not, in the end, I am my own sheltering angel. Besides I'm not going to tell them everything. They just want me to get it done and quickly." He pauses for a moment. Grins. "Hey, I'm ready for one more before we call it quits for the night. We'll go over this in detail tomorrow and get done what needs to be completed." He feigns a coy smile and asks, "What say ye, lassie?" He starts to get up.

  Dee says, "Sit down, laddie. Ready me is and I'll be gettin' some pints." She laughs, then, "And that's as close as an Italian girl can get to sounding like an Irish lass."

  "Did great, however let me get the drinks. I don't want you to ..."

  "Sit." She slides over to his quarter of the Jacuzzi with her snifter in her hand. Snatches his glass, then stands on the seat, facing him, straddling Hunter while he remains seated in the tub. She shuffles forward several inches, leans over ever so slightly, hesitates one moment as he is face to...well, certainly not to face. Dee whispers, "While I'm gone, rethink your definition of partner." She giggles and steps up and over his head, taking the snifters into the house, water dripping onto his face from her thighs and ...

  Hunter sits staring. A blink or two. Mutters, "Hmmmm. Gives a bit of a tang to the water." Turns, stares after her. "Good Lord, all that from one rib."

  When Dee returns with the half-filled snifters, Hunter looks away as she reenters the Jacuzzi. When she settles, and this time it is beside him, she says, "Well?"

  "Well, what?"

  "I can tell by your tone of voice that you're miffed. Not muffed." She lets out one of her throaty, evil giggles. "I just thought that if you got a glimpse of all of me, you would truly appreciate what you're missing and consequently I would see and get what I'm missing. I realize what you've been saying all day. I understand your reasoning. You just don't seem to ... I just thought ... that eventually nature would ..."

  "Shut up and listen to me. Not hear me, listen."

  Dee starts to render another lilting remark but is silenced by Hunter hurling his half-full brandy snifter against the fence between their two yards. He stares at the fence for a moment, then glares at Dee. "We are not going to do it. We are not going to have a relationship. This is a partnership, and not by my choosing. It's all business or it's not going to be any of your business. I made a mistake today by taking you to the Del. If we get personally involved, one or both of us will die. It is to be hoped only one more person is going to die and that's going to be Pisces. If others die it will be collateral damage and nobody I know. I'm going to hunt the bastard, Pisces, down and kill him, and I can't do that with images of your pussy in my face or us screwing our brains out. Do you understand that?"

  Dee's eyes narrow to slits. "Yes."

  "Good. Because if you don't, one or both of us will die. Now I'm goin' to bed, and I'll see you over here in the morning. After breakfast. Do you understand that as well?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Good." Hunter stands and says, "Night. I'd offer you a hand ..." He turns and heads into his house, disappearing in the darkness of the living room. Within a minute his bedroom light comes on, it's reflection bouncing from ripple to ripple in the pool as a cooling breeze creeps across the yard.

  Dee sits virtually motionless in the Jacuzzi sipping her brandy staring up into the misty night sky. It resembles June gloom. She remains inert until she sees Hunter's bedroom light blink off. She turns her head and stares at the bedroom window for several moments, then murmurs, "You're right." Takes a sip of brandy. And thus it will be, and you'll be surprised just how efficient and tough I am. But when it's all over, Hunter Kerrigan, you will wish you had taken the moment ... or moments. Another sip while her mind continues. "Mister. I've known of you for some time. I've seen your Bio and I've been briefed. And Mister, I've heard the sea stories." Her next sip of brandy drains the snifter. She says loud enough for it to carry to at least the bedroom window. "So, Mister BAE ... that's big ass ego so beware because this Hawk's tail feathers are ruffled." With that last comment, Dee pushes herself up and out of the Jacuzzi. Places her snifter on a nearby table, and departs through the back gate leaving behind her towel, the still cold and damp yellow bikini and a large lump of pride or hate. Neither attracts flies, but always
attention.

  In his bedroom, Hunter stares at the ceiling. Mutters, "Pisces, I'm coming." Then rolls over on his side, slides his hand under the second pillow resting it on the M39 and closes his eyes.

  From one rib, damn.

  CHAPTER 10

  "Have a plan.

  Have a back-up plan because the

  first one won't work."

  A gunfighter's rule

  Rocco's Monday is productive and satisfying, however not nearly as pleasurable nor exhausting as last evening with Adrianna. He meets with Carmen Messina and Carmen's sister, Rosa. And the boy, Lorenzo, as well. All three are excited about working for Mr. Roberto Catalano and enjoy the luxury of dinner at Vecchio Dado's on Lungarno Pacinotti. It's an old, warm family-owned Restauranti, and Rocco's treat includes a table outside with a view of the Arno River. The vista is made even more exquisite by the presence of the striking Adrianna joining the group. Certainly for the young man, Lorenzo, who turns the color of tomato paste when she catches him gawking at her. Nonetheless the dinner goes well, and Rocco gives them instructions for their travel to the villa and for settling into the living quarters over the garage. It is a two-bedroom apartment with bath and a kitchen with an adjacent eating area. The boy can sleep in a small room in the garage below with its own facilities. Rocco explains that the master of the villa, Mr. Roberto Catalano, will be gone, and that he, Rocco, will be returning in a few days to make the necessary introductions when Master Catalano returns. Meanwhile his instructions are to settle, give the villa a good cleaning, keep the grounds trimmed and orderly, cars tuned and running, and pantry stocked. He tells them where to shop and to keep the inventory up to the level listed. And liquor cabinet always up to the desired level. And he emphasized, no substitutes here. Carmen and Rosa depart happy; Lorenzo departs infatuated. Rocco will instruct the boy later on the dangers of ogling the women of the villa.

 

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