A Richard L. Wren Mystery-Adventure Sampler

by Richard Wren

CHAPTER 22

  Hours later Josh woke up with a start. His body told him that he was lying on concrete and that he must have been there some length of time as he was cold, stiff and his body ached all over. Something was painfully jabbing his leg. He lay still, with his eyes shut, while he tried to assess his situation. He became painfully aware that his hands were bound behind him, and that they in turn, were taped to the water pipe under a sink. If anyone was watching him, he thought it could be to his advantage to remain unconscious for a while. He concentrated on the surroundings. No voices, only the sound of one person breathing, rather heavily.

  After several minutes, he was quite certain that, except for the heavy breathing person, there was no one else near by. He gradually opened his eyes. He could only see the concrete floor and a solid concrete wall, both painted a musty green. The lights were bright and he couldn’t tell if it was night or day. There were no chairs, no windows, nothing.

  Suddenly he felt another jab in his calf and heard Hal’s whispering voice.

  “Josh, you awake? C’mon Josh, you gotta wake up and get us outa’ here.”

  Josh assumed that if Hal could talk to him, they were alone and started to roll over. He could just turn enough to see Hal, who was similarly tied a few feet away.

  “You okay?” was his first question to Hal.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. A splitting headache but okay. Been trying to wake you for the last half hour. What the hell happened to us?”

  “It’s my fault, they outsmarted me. Are you still bleeding?”

  “Don’t think so. Listen, I don’t think Navarese is here. I think this is the basement of his house. I heard him talking to the guys before he left. He told them to wait till you came to and then teach you a lesson. ‘Slice him and dice him,’ is exactly what he said. That’s why I was jabbing you, we ain’t got much time.”

  Josh squirmed around, trying to loosen his bonds. They didn’t give. It felt like duct tape, which he knew was a very difficult binding to break out of. He could see that Hal was bound the same way. He pulled and yanked at the water pipe he was tied to, but it didn’t give.

  “How long have they been gone? Do you know where they are? DID you say there were only a couple of guys?’

  “Yeah, two. I think they’ve been upstairs about a half-hour. They’ve been checking up on you every once in a while, probably due pretty soon again. Every time they come down they kick you a couple of times to see if you’re awake. Maybe you should pretend to be out as long as possible.”

  “I don’t think so. I’d rather take my chances with these two.”

  “What chances you talking about?”

  “If we can’t beat them we’ll have to outsmart them. Leave it up to me just follow my lead when they come. We need to make them want to untie me from the pipes before they slice me. Just back me up, whatever I say.”

  “Even if…”

  “Hal, quiet. Let me think.”

  Hal retreated into a reluctant silence and Josh focused. He had to mentally overcome pains. He be physically ready if their chance came. Even though his body was contorted he forced his body to relax and let his mind take control. Slowly his aches and pains started to recede. Somewhere outside of himself he was aware he needed to hurry, but inside his mind he told himself to proceed with thoroughness. A sense of strength gradually overcame him. The inevitability of the situation calmed him. He would try to control what he would try to control what was within his to control and accept the rest. This was nothing new to Josh. There had been times when he’d been on the verge of losing and had to dig deep in order to win. Admittedly, this was somewhat different, since he’d never been cold cocked and knocked out for several hours before, or spent the night shackled to a pipe and on a cement floor before. He’d never been subjected to beatings and kicking’s for hours on end before. He thought he might have a cracked crib. His body was complaining about a cracked rib or two, and it’s numerous bruises. He worried if he still had the ability to react if he got the chance. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to create some sort of a miracle this time and Navarese would succeed in his plan to kill him. And poor Hal. God, what about Fern and Fauna?” He couldn’t bear to think about that. Desperate to regain his confidence and equilibrium, he disappeared into the deepest trance he could muster.

  Close to an hour later, Josh heard Hal as from a distance say, “That must be them coming down the stairs. What’ll we do?”

  “Lay there as quiet as possible. Let them focus on me. Just don’t say anything, no matter what happens.” With that he rolled back over and pretended he was still out.

  In a moment the two thugs stepped into the basement. One of them, ignoring Hal, went directly over to Josh and kicked him in the ribs. Josh was laying on his side, partially curled up, his head tucked between his shoulders to protect himself as much as possible.

  “Wake up shitbird,” one of them shouted.

  Josh groaned, opened his eyes and spoke as if he was in great pain. “I’m awake, I’m awake, please don’t kick me no more.” He looked at them through slitted eyelids and recognized them as two of the guys from the club. He wanted them to think he was as uneducated as they seemed to be. He wanted them to think he was in pain and scared. He wanted them to think he was an easy target. He wanted them to want to play with him.

  “What ever you want, you can have. I got money. I can get lots of money. Just let me go. You can have the camera too.”

  “You’ll give us money and your camera if we let you go? What about your pal, the old man. What about him?”

  “I don’t give a shit about him. I don’t even know his name. I just hired him for this one gig. Let me go and the money and the camera’s yours.”

  “Hmmm, I guess we’ll have to think about that, won’t we Sal?”

  “Yeah, we will, long and hard.” And with that they started kicking him all over his body. Josh was keeping their attention on him but he was paying a price. He rolled in the tightest ball he could to protect his head and groin. Gradually they slowed down the tempo of their kicks until just one of them was kicking.

  In the background, Josh heard the snick of a switchblade being opened.

  One of them grabbed a handful of Josh’s hair and yanked his head up off the floor. “What d’ya think? Ready for death by a thousand cuts?” Josh’s mind whirled with plans.

  “Why me?”

  “Who d’ya think you’re shittin’? We know who you are. You’re the asshole that’s been trackin’ us and Ramon’s gonna personally take care of you. Permanently like. The last guy that Ramon killed took about four hours to die. Now he’s fish food at the bottom of the bay and that’s where you’re going. But first we get to soften you up a little.”

  Good Christ, these guys really are psycho, Josh thought. I need to do something or they’re sure as hell going to kill us both. Maybe it’s time to beg for my life. At least for Hal’s?

  “Get him up on his feet,”

  “Roll over, asshole.”

  Josh slowly and with simulated great pain rolled over to his left side, his back to the sink. He could feel the vibrations of the knife cutting through the ropes and tape. Shortly his wrists fell free from the pipe, but still tied together. They weren’t giving him much.

  Amidst more kicks, he was ordered to stand up. Slowly, and with his back to the wall, as if for support, Josh stood up. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hal desperately trying to get loose while the guards’ attention was riveted on him. Both of the guards had their switchblades out and were tossing them from hand to hand in a threatening way.

  “How about a few slices across the chest to start with?” one of them asked.

  Josh knew the remark was calculated to raise his fear and make him beg. He reacted accordingly. Up to that minute, he had been surreptitiously stretching, getting the kinks out of his back and legs. Now he dropped to one knee.

  “Don’t do this, gu
ys. I never hurt anyone. Don’t cut me I’ll give you all I got.”

  One of them advanced on him, still tossing his knife from hand to hand, supremely confident that they ruled the situation.

  “That the best you can do? Shit, maybe I’ll start with an ear.” He reached out with his left hand for Josh’s ear and at the same time slashed at Josh with his knife. Josh exploded.

  Pushing up with his leg, he sprang headfirst into the thug’s chest. He felt the knife slash across his chest followed by a stinging sensation. The thug was bowled over backwards. Josh twirled to his left to be out of the way of the second man’s knife reach and landed on both feet facing him, but five feet away. Josh glanced down at his chest. The knife had cut through his shirt and made a three inch bleeding slash across his chest. Josh ignored it. He needed to free his hands urgently. He quickly spun away from the two, dropped to a crouch then leaped high. In mid-air, he pulled his knees to his chest and slipped his wrists under his legs. When he landed he was on his feet, facing both the thugs with his hands in front of him. The one he had bowled over was back on his feet, and both of them were facing him, still confident that they had the situation under control, still waving their knives menacingly.

  “That’s real cute but it ain’t gonna do you much good. Not with two of us and these babies.” He glanced at his sidekick, “Let’s Take him,”

  The men separated and rushed him. Josh let them come and when they were within three feet of him, Josh feinted to his right with his upper body. The thug to his left took the bait and lunged after him, brandishing his knife. With his lower body strongly anchored, Josh swung his upper body back, leaped toward the oncoming thug and launched a kick at the thug’s wrist. The knife fell out of his hand and skidded across the room.

  Without pausing, Josh continued his move, picked the knife up and sliced his bonds open. The thug was white faced, his hand dangling helplessly. Josh thought the pain hadn’t hit him yet. He turned to the other thug.

  “It’s your turn now.” The guy was momentarily paralyzed by the suddenness and finality of Josh’s move. Josh took advantage of his confusion and continued to strip the tape from his wrists.

  The thug made a run for Hal. He must have thought that Josh was distracted by working on the tapes. Maybe he thought he could use Hal as a bargaining chip. Josh made a quick decision. First he quickly flipped the knife in his hand, judging its weight and balance. Then he threw it directly at the running thug. It pierced his right thigh and immediately brought him to the ground beside Hal. Josh pulled the knife out and the thug lay with both hands wrapped around his thigh, concentrating on his own pain.

  Josh now had both knives and both of the thugs were non-combatants. He used one of the knives to release Hal.

  “Jesus Christ, that was beautiful. I thought we were dead.” Hal said.

  “We better get out of here before anyone else shows up.” Josh replied.

  “What about these guys? Are we just gonna leave them? What about your chest? You got blood all over.”

  “Find the duct tape. Tape their mouths, shut them up. I think they’re in a whole heap of trouble, letting us get away. That psycho Navarese will probably take it out on them big time. But we sure as hell don’t need to be here when he gets back.”

  “Hell no. The guy’s a monster. I’m beginning to think you should kill him. If I ever met anyone that needed it, it’s that guy.”

  “How’d they get us in here?”

  “Upstairs, though a back door.”

  Josh ran upstairs, took a quick look out the front and back windows and ran back downstairs.

  “Not that way. This isn’t a basement, it’s at ground level. Upstairs the front door’s in view of the whole street and the back door’s right at eye level with the kitchen next door, plus you got a whole flight of stairs in plain view of everybody. We Gotta find a way out down here.”

  “We’re at ground level? What’d the houses look like out the front?”

  Josh had to think for a second, “Looked like old Victorians to me, why?”

  “Basement’s above ground in Victorian houses that’s why. Alameda’s famous for ‘em.”

  “What about windows, shouldn’t the basements have them if they’re above ground?”

  “You’re right, let’s find ‘em.”

  At the rear of the basement were several closed doors. They started opening them. The first one looked like an abandoned workshop. Rusty and broken tools hung from nails. There was a partially collapsed workbench and no other exit.

  The second door led to a small, dirty washroom. A sink, a toilet and a cobwebbed, nailed shut window greeted them.

  Hal banged on the window in frustration. “Now what?”

  “Get me a claw hammer.”

  In a short time Josh had all the nails out and they were able to wedge the window open. Josh cautiously stuck his head out and found that the window opened directly under the backdoor staircase. He went on ahead. “This’ll work. Come on out.”

  Hal struggled out to join him.

  “Now. Stand up straight and brush the cobwebs off your clothes,” Josh saID. “We’ve got to walk out of here as if we belong here. As if we have every right in the world to be here. Let’s say we’re building contractors. The blood on my shirt is because I caught myself on a rusty nail. We simply walk slowly down to the corner and then we are gone. My bet is no one will challenge us.”

  Standing hidden under the staircase Josh could see that there was a detached garage a few feet from them and a long driveway beside the house leading to the front sidewalk.

  They started up the driveway, trying to look casual and professional. Out of the corner of his eye, Josh saw a woman with two children getting into a car parked in a driveway two houses up from them and in the opposite direction from where they were going. She stopped for a second, as if she was going to wave but then hesitated. Josh continued talking and walking with Hal. “Keep going, we’re being watched. Just act normal. If we’re lucky, maybe the car’s still there and the camera’s still in the trunk.” He risked another sideways glance at the woman. Luckily for them, it looked as if she was much more interested in getting her children into their car seats than she was in watching a couple of men walking down the street. In a short time they had rounded the corner and were out of her sight.

  “Do you have any idea where in Alameda we are?” Josh asked.

  Hal pointed to a street corner sign. “We’re only about two blocks from a small shopping center.”

  “We can get a taxi there?” asked Josh.

  “I’ll call Mabel. She’ll get someone here real fast. She comes off real tough, but underneath she’s a sweetheart and quick on the draw. She won’t ask a lot of questions, just send someone over fast.”

  Once they were out of sight of Navarese’s house they started half running, half walking, and in a few minutes were at a seven-eleven store and on the phone.

  “She’s got one on the way.” Hal reported. “Mebbe’ we should see if our cars still at the club?”

  Hal took a lot of ribbing from the cabbie that picked them up. “You guys get stood up, or dID you just forget where you put your car?”

  Hal tried to put a good spin on their predicament. “Ain’t funny. Some guy slugged me and Josh here found me and saved me.”

  The driver wasn’t about to let him off that easy. “Suuuure he did.” He responded with a huge wink at Josh.

  Hal gave up. “Don’t matter. You know where Club Mexco is?”

  “Course I do but there’s better and closer places to get a drink, if that’s what you need.”

  “Just take us. We got a car parked there and we can get rid of you.”

  “Okay, okay. But you ain’t heard the last of this. Wait’ll the guys hear you lost your own car.”

  Finally he let up on Hal a little bit and drove to the Mexco Club. Josh’s rented car was there and unlocked. Hal opened
the trunk and their camera was there, just as he had left it. “Wow, what are the odds? I didn’t expect the car to be here, let alone intact and not broken into, not in this neighborhood.”

  Their driver couldn’t resist another jab at Hal as he left. “Wait’ll Mabel hears you lost your own car, she’ll probably fire you.”

  Josh asked Hal if the other drivers always were that harsh on each other. “That’s nothin’. You oughta’ see some of other crap we pull on each other.”

  “As scary as last night?”

  Hal, in a wry voice, said. “Last night was interesting as hell, but I’d just as soon not do it again. Isn’t there some way I can stay working for you and not get beat up all the time?”

  “You know,” said Josh, “I’ve been thinking. That’s too nice a neighborhood for a psycho like him to be living in. I’d think the neighbors would be unhappy having him living that close.”

  Hal was silent for a moment, “How about I get a friend of mine that works at a title company to see if he really owns it or not, couldn’t hurt.”

  “Great. Maybe we’ll find out something that we can use as leverage.”

  -end of excerpt-

  Who is…

  Richard L. Wren started a new career writing novels at age 82, after retiring from a successful insurance career. His first novel, CASEY’S SLIP, took almost 3 years to finish and publish (2010). The book has had a screenplay adapted from it which is now in marketing.

  Profiting from all the mistakes he made, he wrote and published his second book, JOSHUA’S REVENGE, in seven months. Now, at age 89, he published his third novel, JUSTICE FOR JOSHUA. Along the way, he wrote and published A PRACTICAL GUIDE TO WRITING & PUBLISHING NOVEL, an acclaimed, down to earth and fact specific “how to” booklet filled with the most practical advice for authors, which is being used as a text in writing and publishing courses. The book you hold in your hands is the newest version of that booklet, expanded and with an additional section on book promotion.

  All of his books, and the forthcoming novel Murder Made Legal: A Casey & Smitty Mystery, have been published using the methods he is passing on in the book you hold. All are published under his Poor Richard Publishers company banner, and are available as both print and ebooks on Amazon.com.

  Mr. Wren, a lifelong resident of Oakland, recently moved to Lafayette, CA, where he lives with his patient wife Betty. 

  Richard Wren is a fourth generation Californian. He has been the subject of TV pieces and newspaper articles as a great example of reinvention in retirement years. Richard L. Wren is a great example of someone who has reinvented himself and his career – especially so late in life. He’s also a model for would-be novelists, both old and young.

  2014 for CASEY’S SLIP

  Website: www.rlwren.com

  Twitter: @WriteEZrightnow/

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  YouTube: www.youtube.com/RichardLWren

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