Twice as Fatal: A Jarvis Mann Detective Novel

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Twice as Fatal: A Jarvis Mann Detective Novel Page 11

by R Weir


  “Can I get you anything, Jarvis?” Kate asked.

  “No I’m good. Are we ready to do this?”

  Kate glanced over at Burt and he nodded his head.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Are your son and daughter in the house?” I asked.

  “Yes. They wanted to be here to support me.”

  “It may not be pleasant for them,” I replied. “Are they prepared for what might happen?”

  Her two kids walked into the room from the kitchen. I’d not seen them in some time and they were hardly children anymore. The son, Cody, was nearly my size and a little leaner. He had long blond hair, the bangs in his eyes where he had to sweep it away from time to time. Baggy blue jeans and a T-shirt with “Don’t Fuck With Me” printed in bold letters on the chest. He was a senior at Lincoln High School and a math whiz from what Kate had told me, hoping to be a building engineer someday.

  Beside him was Darcy, the older of the two and the spitting image of her mother. Same build, hair, face and eyes, in a younger version. She was wearing black jeans, but with large pre-fabricated holes on the thighs showing her tanned legs, a white laced top and also was barefoot. She was a sophomore in college going to Denver University, and was a performing arts major. She was a talented dancer and writer, from what Kate had told me, and had the lead role in one of the DU winter productions.

  “Cody and Darcy,” stated Kate. “Do you remember Mr. Mann?”

  “Please call me Jarvis.”

  Both acknowledged me and Cody gripped my hand, showing how tough he was. Any more viselike hand shaking and I’d be wearing a cast!

  “Don’t worry, we can handle it,” said Cody. “Mom needs us here, so we’re here.”

  “He may be our father,” said Darcy. “But she is our mom, and he’s treated her like shit for too long. She’s done nothing to deserve it.”

  “Okay, if you say so,” I answered. “I hope it’s simple with no complications, but I’ve been through this enough to realize resistance on his part is likely.”

  Both walked over and put their arms around Kate in a show of solidarity.

  “I’m glad you’re there for your mother,” I said. “Please stay right here while I take care of things. It will be best if you remain out of the way and not say anything. Kate, I need you to lead me to where Jack is sleeping downstairs and come right back up here.”

  Kate led me down a hall and to the stairwell.

  “It’s down at the bottom and first room on the right. He normally has the door closed.”

  I motioned for her to return to the living area and I walked the stairs reaching the basement floor. Straight ahead I could see what appeared to be a bathroom. On the left was a recreation room, with big-screen TV, gaming console and a pool table. The second opening on the right was a laundry room. And sure enough, the first door on the right was closed and was locked. I pounded on it, but kept my body off to the side in case he shot first and asked questions later.

  “Jack Tanner, open the door please,” I said.

  I heard noises as if he was grabbing pants.

  “Who the hell is this?” Jack said.

  “Official business. Open up now!”

  There was a long hesitation before I saw the door handle turn. I pushed my way in, turning him to the side, while handing him the envelope with the legal papers.

  “Jack Tanner, you’ve been served,” I stated with a sense of pride. “Please gather your things and vacate the premises.”

  “Who the hell are you?” Jack said angrily.

  I showed him my ID. “Jarvis Mann, Private Detective. If you read the documents you’ll see your wife is filing for divorce and has a restraining order for you to leave her house and stay away from her, your kids and her business. I’d advise you get your things together quickly or we’ll have to call the police to drag you out.”

  Jack opened the envelope and began scanning the documents. I checked over the room and found his gun sitting on the nightstand. I grabbed it, removing the clip and made sure the chamber was clear. I popped each of the shells out into my open hand and placed them in my pocket.

  “What the hell?” Jack yelled, stepping toward me.

  “I wouldn’t if I were you,” I stated firmly. “I’m making sure you don’t do anything stupid. You can have the gun and empty clip after you leave, but I’m keeping the bullets. Besides, I doubt you have a permit for this weapon and could spend a long time in jail for having it in your possession.”

  “I can have a gun in my own home for protection.”

  “It’s not your home anymore. Now pack up your things or you’ll be leaving with what you’re wearing. You’ve got ten minutes.”

  Stepping back I watched his reaction and each move he made. He gave me a frigid stare of anger, but I didn’t really care. One needed to be cold and unemotional for this kind of work. He packed up his clothes in a duffle bag. I wouldn’t let him take anything other than clothing, telling him to put back the clock radio and a picture frame he tried to take.

  “Can I at least get my things from the bathroom?” Jack said with a snarl.

  “Only essentials, and I’ll need to see everything you grab.”

  Jack gathered up a hair brush, electric razor, toothbrush, toothpaste and some assorted prescription pills which I verified had his name on them. I checked his coat to make sure it wasn’t holding any surprises, gave it to him and followed him up the stairs. Walking into the living room, he stopped and stared at his family.

  “You bitch,” Jack said bitterly. “Tossing me out of my own home!”

  “It’s not yours anymore,” I said. “Keep moving.”

  Jack wouldn’t budge, still giving the evil stare at Kate. I wanted him out of there before all hell broke loose, but Kate had to have her say too.

  “You’ve done nothing to contribute to this home for years now,” Kate said. “I did all I could to save this marriage, this family, with my hard work, sweat and blood. You had to run your little scam and fool around with your trollop. It’s over and I hope to never see you again.”

  The words were harsh, but truthful. She may have felt better by saying it, but it set Jack off. He tried to rush her but I grabbed him by the coat and flung him against the door. He charged me and I popped him on the side of the jaw throwing him back against the door again. He looked at me hard, deciding what to do.

  “Jack don’t do this in front of your kids,” I stated firmly. “Don’t let the last thing they see of you is getting your ass kicked. You are older, out of shape and you will lose. Walk out now and don’t come back.”

  Jack scanned the room, searching, staring at his children trying to find an ally. There wasn’t one to be found.

  “It’s over, Dad,” said Cody. “Leave us alone and never come back.”

  Defeated, Jack turned heading to his truck, peeling rubber out of the neighborhood. I would hang around for a while to make sure he didn’t come back, so I chose a chair and sat down.

  “Can I get a bag of ice?” I asked, flexing my hand, which was already swelling from the second hard punch I’d thrown in three days. Maybe I need to get myself a Taser.

  Chapter 20

  With no sign of Jack after a few hours, I left to grab some lunch, pick up a special cable and power adapter from a local computer store, and work on my other case. Once home, I retrieved the hard drives from my safe and placed them on my desk. The cable and power supply was designed to activate SATA devices, allowing them to be plugged into a USB port enabling me to retrieve the data off of them, so long as they weren’t secured.

  Once I figured out how the maze of cables worked, I fired it up and bingo: my Windows desktop discovered a new mass storage device assigning it letter F. As I suspected the drive wasn’t encrypted, a simple security step most computer users didn’t do, so I could see all the data. Doing a basic search for video formats, I found the AVI and MPEG files once again and began combing through them. As before, there were the unedited versions an
d the edited ones with the altered voice demanding the ransom. I had to look through all of the folders, gathering as much information as possible. There was nothing exciting about seeing them but it was my job. I don’t know if I’d ever witnessed so much sex in my life, and of all kinds: male and female, three-way with two females and a male or two males and a female. Even some movies with two men going at it. After all of this I wondered if I could ever make love again for there was nothing joyful about the whole process. It was like watching passionless animals doing it.

  As the afternoon turned into evening I’d had enough, but knew I now had leverage against the men running The Hustle. I called Bill to tell him what I had. It may have been good news, but you could tell it didn’t make it any easier for him since it didn’t erase the image from his mind of what his son had gotten himself into.

  “Do you think they have backups of this somewhere,” asked Bill.

  “Possibly, but I don’t think will matter,” I said. “Bill, we can use this to get Ray off the hook,”

  “How?”

  “A couple of ways. First, if this is the only copy, we wait and they will have nothing to post on the Web. Ray will be free and clear so long as he stays away from them. Of course, this may not stop them from coming after him. So the other option is to use what we’ve found as leverage against the owner of The Hustle, Marquis Melott. They don’t release the video of Ray and we don’t turn this over to the police. There are some faces on here who are well-known. Some local politicians I recognize, a few TV personalities; all very embarrassing for everyone involved. It would create a stalemate which should keep them clear of him.”

  The pause on the other end was obviously Bill thinking. He was a cop and his instincts would lead him to want to bring the crooks to justice. But family often trumps this, and he had to know this was the best, and maybe only, option.

  “Reluctantly, I have to agree with number two,” Bill answered. “How do we contact them to let them know what we have?”

  “Leave it to me. They’ll want proof, which I can provide. I’ll make copies of everything and have them kept with my lawyer for safekeeping, if you approve. There’ll be some cost involved but I’d say it’s worth it.”

  “You trust your lawyer?”

  “Completely.”

  “Do what you have to do. Money is no object.” He hung up the phone.

  I got to work putting together my technology shopping list, and after buying everything, worked into the early morning hours making duplicates. It was a slow process, as the files were quite large and my computer wasn’t a high-end unit. I confirmed all the data was copied properly and placed a set of copies in my gun safe, another for my lawyer and a copy to show Marquis. Now I hoped all the effort would accomplish what I intended it to do, and fell asleep trying to flush the images of naked bodies from my psyche.

  Chapter 21

  It was a short night of sleep but I was pumped, ready for the day ahead. I hoped to conclude all this nasty business with the owner of The Hustle. I tracked down a phone number, made the call, and arranged to meet with him in a public place between Denver and Greeley. We decided on Brighton at a place called Copper Rail Bar and Grill. The agreement was only me and Marquis for a beer and a friendly chat at around noon. Of course friendly might be a slight exaggeration.

  I arrived twenty minutes early checking the place out, watching for Mack and Grady, or any of the other frontline employees of The Hustle. There was no sign of anyone I recognized, so I took a booth with a good view of the front door. This was a sports bar with loads of TVs with a cornucopia of athletics displayed, including a 135-inch projection screen smack-dab in the middle for all to see. There was also a gaming room with pool tables and video games and, of course, a bar, with a few patrons sipping down brews from chilled mugs. It was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving so the place was pretty quiet. I ordered a draft beer and loaded fries minus the onions, which I hated with a passion. I ate and drank slowly, knowing I needed to be sharp, my eyes searching for my guest. I had a vague description of him I’d received from the Greeley cop, Olsen, who rescued me from them at their club. I wanted to make sure I was meeting with the real man in charge and a fake didn’t show up. I saw an expensive Mercedes convertible pull up outside and him getting out. Trey’s portrayal had been spot on.

  Marquis Melott strolled in dressed like a high-class lawyer. Armani brown suit which matched his dark brown skin, black Florsheim shoes with tassels, diamond-studded earrings in both ears, and a hat to cover his bald head, which was revealed when he removed it. A well-mannered crook! His suit was perfectly styled and fit him to a tee, and if he was carrying a gun the bulge couldn’t be noticed. He seemed to know who I was, spotting me right away, sitting down across from me without a word. He motioned at the remaining loaded cheese fries and I nodded, so he took a couple and munched them down. The waitress was promptly there and he ordered a microbrew I never heard of and a shot of Jack Daniels. He didn’t speak until his drinks arrived and he drank a long sip of beer and followed it with the entire glass of Jack.

  “Fries are good,” he finally stated. “They could use some onions to perk up the flavor.”

  I already didn’t like him. He was too smug, too stylish and liked onions on his cheese and bacon fries. If we hadn’t been in a public place I might have shot him out of spite! I held my tongue and let him continue. He got straight to the point. No small talk, which was fine with me.

  “I’ve been told you want to make a deal,” Marquis said. “Here, on behalf of the Malone kid. What are you offering?”

  “I’ve come into possession of certain videos,” I began. “Videos which can harm others and hurt you.”

  “What type of videos?” Marquis asked while eating more cheese fries.

  “Of a personal nature. People acting out fantasies. Clients of yours.”

  “Why would I be interested in them?”

  “Because they were used to encourage high-paying registration fees at your club. Coerced with embarrassing sexual activities.”

  “I run a legitimate business. There is no coercion involved. It is all voluntary.”

  “At the beginning yes, until they are digitally recorded and you blackmail them to pay more money or else you release the video on the Internet. Those videos would be very embarrassing to those photographed. They are doing some pretty kinky things, even in an X-rated world.”

  Marquis waved for the waitress and ordered another beer, since his was gone, and another round of loaded fries, this time with onions. He stopped and contemplated how to proceed until the drink and food arrived. I didn’t need another beer, still having half a glass, but was brought one anyway.

  “Even if it were true, why would I care? Why would they care? As you said, it’s an X-rated world. No one worries if their dick is on the Internet.”

  “These people do. Some on these recordings are of politicians, maybe men who do you favors, vote your way to keep their face and so much more off the Web. It would be embarrassing for them and for you, not to mention their careers and personal lives. Their wives would take them for every penny they have in a divorce. Then the police and the Feds get involved and go neck-deep into your business. Then the IRS starts delving into your financials. There is no need for this if you give us what we want.”

  “And this would be?”

  “Release Ray Malone from his financial obligations,” I stated. “Leave him and his family alone. If he comes near your club, throw him out. He doesn’t belong there and has a possible professional football career ahead if he can stay clean and healthy. Why ruin the kid’s dreams? It makes the most sense for him and you.”

  “I’m to take you at your word you have these videos?”

  “No.” I pulled out of my pocket a 64-gigabyte thumb drive and slid it to him. “All the proof you need of what I possess. Keep it so you can verify.”

  “Where did you get this from?”

  “Not part of the deal.”

  “I’m su
re I can figure it out.”

  I shrugged, as if to say so what.

  “You have other copies.”

  “Yes, the originals and several duplicates. Left with lawyers and an angry Denver cop whose son is the young man we’ve been discussing. They stay hidden if he is freed from his debt, is no longer harassed, and the video showed to his family is never placed on the Web for all to see.”

  “And if I were to encourage you to give them up?”

  “They’ll be released to the public and given to the Greeley police and the Feds. Not in your best interest.”

  “I can come down hard on you.”

  “It won’t matter. They will be out there and you’ll have a big mess to deal with. There will always be another paying customer you can replace him with. The world is full of horny men with money to burn.”

  Marquis stopped again and ate some more fries. There was a strong sense of danger coming from his mannerisms, a fire inside, an anger he was keeping a lid on. It was there and I could feel it. He could try to scare me all he wanted, but it didn’t matter. I was in control and planned to keep it this way.

  “So trying to intimidate you won’t work, what about buying you? I can throw a lot of money your way. I understand your business isn’t a real high profit profession. You generally live from job-to-job, based on the research we’ve done. I’ll give you ten percent of the profits I make off of them going forward, tax free, with five hundred dollars up front. Then you can move onto your next divorce case.”

 

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