The Usher

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The Usher Page 22

by Will Pettijohn


  Young ordered Colt, “Stay on the freeway and then onto the interstate and head south toward Abilene.” Colt followed his orders and stayed on Highway 153. Young held the gun to Colt’s head as he made his way into the backseat to join Robert, who was sitting behind Colt. He said, “Young, just be careful and don’t let that damn thing go off.”

  Young looked at him sarcastically as he finally finished climbing over and made his way to the passenger-side backseat. Colt watched the men and where they were seated. He needed to try to get himself out of this mess if he could. The police would soon find them and then it could get bad, so he needed to be aware of where they were and then think of a plan.

  Colt wanted to clear the air as they made their way toward the interstate. “I thought you were locked up, Young. Did I misunderstand?”

  “No … I was locked up, but they let me out for good behavior. I really just couldn’t stay away from you for another second.”

  “So what are we gonna do here? You gonna take me somewhere and shoot me and then tell everyone I died of natural causes?”

  “Oh, no, Colt … I’m going to take you somewhere special and make an example out of you. This town will finally figure out who you were all along. Archer told me you had to be removed so that we could get to Gamboni. Instead of just killing you, I tried to catch you the legal way to help my career, but you slipped away. Then my next plan to make you disappear failed as well. You were almost convicted for the murder of five people, including a small baby. But I failed … I failed myself and I failed you as well, Colt. If my plan had worked, you’d be in prison for the rest of your life and I’d be promoted to Washington, D.C. Then the money that Archer and I were going to make would have left me in pretty good shape.”

  “Young, what the hell is your beef with me? I haven’t done anything, and I haven’t hurt anyone. You were there at the trial and I was acquitted of all of the charges. I am innocent and I proved my innocence. So what is it, Young?” Colt prodded as he watched Young searching the rear window and counting the patrol cars that were now following him. More than seven marked and three unmarked cars were in the pursuit. A police helicopter was circling overhead as well. There was no way out of this now, and Young and Colt both knew it.

  “You are not innocent, Colt. You’ve done so many bad things … killed so many people. I know you did it, and you know you did it. I just need for everyone else to see what you and I already know. Then it will all be right again. Archer is gone now and I am a free man, or I will be, shall I say … just as soon as I get away from Wise and the others. Then I’ll run deep into Mexico and I’ll live like a king.”

  “You have really got some issues, man. I’m not a killer … I’ve never done anything like that. I am in the import and export business. I am a regular family man and I don’t break the law.” Colt entered Interstate 20 west. He merged into the hammer lane and sped up to match the flow of traffic, where the drivers were oblivious to the pursuit taking place.

  Young watched him and paid close attention to the speed they were traveling. “Just go with the flow of traffic, Colt. Don’t want to get caught in a traffic jam and have our final showdown be shortened by some stupid Good Samaritan. Did I introduce you to my friend? This is Robert. He helped Archer get me out. He has a brother-in-law who works at the prison where I was.” Young patted Robert on the shoulder.

  “Hello, Robert. Did you know you were going to be dragged into such a mess when you decided to help him get out?” Colt asked the man as he looked at him in the mirror. Robert didn’t respond or even look at him. Robert had something on his mind as well. No one knew what it was … but it was clear that he had something of his own to deal with.

  “So how did you get out, Young?” Colt asked.

  “I was there in prison and had made my mind up that I was going to sit there for a long time because Archer had turned on me … and then all of a sudden, my cell door opened up. There stood a big guard and Robert at my door. They told me they were going to help me get to Archer, and Robert’s brother-in-law got us out of the prison and then to Archer. It was pretty cool, like some black ops shit. Robert has no place else to go, so he came with us to kill you and show everyone who you really are.”

  “How’d they get you out, Young? Weren’t there other guards around watching?”

  “Yeah, but the warden wanted me to be put in the deepest, darkest hole of the prison,” Young said. “That’s where they don’t have much security. Robert’s brother-in-law was able to shut down the security cameras and open the doors without anyone seeing us. He had control over all the security cameras and security tapes after everyone else was looking for us. It wasn’t hard after he got us out of the cells.” Young looked out the window.

  He looked back at Colt in the mirror and continued. “He took us to an old loading dock attached to the kitchen compound and then gave us a ride to the outside of the prison. We met Archer and started our trip back to Dallas. Hell, we were gone for more than six hours before they even knew we weren’t there. They don’t do a prisoner count until ten o’clock at night and then again at six in the morning. We had a ride and clothes, then another car to get to you, and now here we are.” Young sighed out loud. “Now that you and I are together again, we can perform our final symphony. You will enjoy this one, Colt. It will be the best thing this town has ever seen.”

  “So tell me, what makes you think I have ever killed anyone, Young?”

  “Oh, we’ve had a friend of yours working with us for a long time now. He tells me when you’re working and where you’re going. He called us every time he found out something else about you. But you already know that. You killed Albert.”

  “No … I can’t say I know anyone by that name, Young. Why would you think he was talking about me?”

  “Oh, go ahead and play your coy little games, Colt. I knew him, and I knew where he lived. He lived with Michael Gamboni, right? That’s where we were going to kill you. Archer told him he wanted him to kill Gamboni and then hold you until we got to you. Archer found out that you had killed him when he tried calling him and he didn’t answer. He went and checked it out and the place had burned to the ground. We had originally planned on killing you, Gamboni, and Albert all at the same time. But we weren’t able to know that you would catch on to Albert’s plan and take him out before we did. Just the same though, it will all work out in the end. So Archer figured that Robert and I would pay you a visit and see if you were home. I had Robert knock on the door so that you wouldn’t catch on. And lucky me … You were at home. Now we’ll go and show everyone who you really are … a killer.”

  “Why would you take out Albert after he killed this Gamboni guy? I thought he was your informant.”

  “Well, he had served his purpose and we didn’t want to have to worry about any loose ends. And now that Archer is dead and the cops know who I really am, I have to clean this mess up. So after I kill you, I’m going to Mexico.”

  “So you were going to kill this guy Gamboni, me, and the guy named Albert? That’s a lot of killing, Special Agent Young. Not to mention the thirty police cars that are now chasing us. How do you plan on getting to Mexico?”

  “I’ve got that all planned out, Colt. I have someone working in the FBI who will come and make this all go away very soon.”

  “So that’s your plan, huh? You’ll have the FBI come in and shed the police of the chase and then the FBI will say you escaped?”

  “Very good, Colt; see, you do have a criminal mind. I planned on killing you all because I had plenty for all of you. I was so angry at you and Gamboni after I was caught and sent to prison. But I have nine bullets in this gun, and that’s nine times that I plan on shooting you. That should do it, don’t ya think?”

  “Yeah, that should get it done. But what will you do about Robert afterward? He’ll be another link to make you wonder … won’t he?” Colt was trying to
put enough doubt into Young that he would begin to think that he could trust only himself. Colt noticed several signs for the road construction ahead. That gave him an idea. It would hurt, but it just might work.

  Young began to watch Colt’s eyes in the mirror. He pulled the gun up and shot Robert in the head without a blink. Blood splattered all over the rear door’s window, and Robert’s dead body slumped over in the seat. Colt jerked the wheel as he heard the gunshot go off in the small confines of the car. When Young shot Robert, Colt looked at the signs again. One indicated that the traffic would be narrowed to one lane two miles ahead. Colt had driven this route the day before and remembered that there was a concrete barrier on the left side of the road. Young looked back at Colt in the mirror and said, “So now you will get only eight bullets. I still think I’ll have enough to do the job.”

  Colt began to taunt Young. “You should always plan every detail of every step of your job, Young. You should always think about where you position yourself and what the next step will be.” Colt began pressing on the gas pedal, and his powerful sedan sped up. Before long they were going more than ninety miles per hour and weaving in and out of the heavy traffic. Young watched Colt speed up and began looking around at the traffic.

  “Colt, you need to slow down and follow the rate of the other traffic. If you make me kill you, I’ll just go back and kill your wife and little girl in anger. I have a plan, and I’d like us to stick to it. You wouldn’t want that, would you, Colt? I can picture it now, Colt: your little girl crying out for you as I touch her in places that will hurt her tiny little body, and the tears falling as I begin to skin her alive.”

  Colt listened as he looked down at his dash. His BMW showed each seat that had pressure on it and whether or not the seat belt was fastened. Young’s seat belt in the middle rear seat was not. Colt had increased his speed so that he’d reach the construction by the time Young realized what he was doing.

  The construction cones began flying by his window, and Colt noticed a police car sitting on the side of the road well ahead of the barrier. The policeman was standing on the other side of Interstate 20, and Colt aimed for the police car, causing a horrific collision of his vehicle and the police car that was sitting still. The impact threw Young over the seat and through the windshield. His battered body was flung over the police car’s roof and then onto the ground. The airbags filled the inside of the car with a white dust, and Robert’s body had broken the driver’s seat. But Colt was safe … a little bruised up, but well enough to look for Young’s body and watch for him to get up.

  The policeman ran to the scene and asked Colt, “Are you all right? Oh my God. I can’t believe you hit my car going that fast.”

  Colt looked at the patrol car and saw the damage as the pursuing cars arrived at the scene of the carnage. He looked for Young but couldn’t find him. “Is that guy alive?” Colt asked the policeman.

  The cop walked in front of the wreck and looked for a moment. Rick, T, and Agent Woburn rushed to the scene to find Robert dead in the backseat, and then moved to look at Colt. They then made their way around to the front of the car to find Young lying in the road, clearly dead. They placed their guns back in their holsters and walked over to check on Colt. “Are you all right, Mr. Marcell?” Rick shouted over the sirens.

  “Is that man dead?” Colt struggled to say with the little bit of air that he could muster from the airbag filling the car with dust.

  The patrol officer whose car they had hit walked back over and looked at Young again. He walked back to Colt’s window and said, “Yes, sir. He was almost cut in half. You killed that man because you weren’t watching where you were driving.”

  Rick raised his hand to the officer and said, “This man was kidnapped by the man lying in the street. He had to do something to get away.”

  The policeman shook his head and replied, “But did he have to hit my damn car? What if I had been in there?”

  “Go and get checked out and we’ll take it from here, Officer,” Rick said as he walked closer to Colt’s car.

  Colt knew he had to explain to the police, so he began. “That man is an escaped convict. He kidnapped me and killed the man in the backseat of my car. He was taking me to kill me as well. I had to do something to stop him. I’m so sorry about the police car, but I had to do something.”

  Rick stepped back to the rear window and looked in to see Robert’s body lying there lifeless, his upper torso positioned on the floorboard where he had landed after the impact. Rick looked at the blood in the seat and found the hole in Robert’s head. “Umm … where is the gun now, Mr. Marcell?” he asked and placed his hand near his weapon.

  “That guy has it!” Colt screamed. “He killed him.” He had to act as if he were simply a victim in all of this. Colt knew that if he acted as if it were no big deal, the detective might investigate even further.

  Then Rick had the others find the gun and relaxed. He walked to the front of the car and asked T where the gun was. T pointed to the gun lying about twenty-five feet away from Young’s dead, bloody body. He removed it and then began to assess the scene. Colt was taken by ambulance to the hospital to check for any injuries.

  Chapter 34

  Mrs. Carmine’s doorbell rang, and she cleared her eyes enough to go and answer it. A man and a woman stood at the door. “Can I help you?” she asked as she looked them both up and down.

  “Mrs. Carmine?” the woman asked.

  “Yes, I am Mrs. Carmine.”

  “My name is Special Agent Gloria Whitehead. I am with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms. I’m sorry that it is such an inconvenient time, but we have some questions to ask you.”

  “What would the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms need to talk to me about?”

  “If we could just come in for a few moments, I’m certain it won’t take too long, Mrs. Carmine,” the female agent said as she stepped forward.

  Mrs. Carmine opened the door, saying, “Of course. Please come in.” The two agents walked past her and stood in the entryway of her lower-middle-class home in suburban Dallas. She closed the door behind them and invited them into the living room.

  “Please, have a seat.”

  “Thank you, ma’am; we heard about your husband’s death, and we are very sorry to hear it. We have a couple of questions concerning how he died.”

  “I don’t understand; what do you need to know?”

  “We need to know what he knew about the bust taking place in the warehouse container yard. Do you have any information about that, or did he talk to you about it?”

  She raised a tissue to her nose and wiped away the ever present drip that comes from crying and said, “He only told me that he had to go and help some other agencies take down a drug dealer. He told me it was a really big bust and that he was really excited about it. When he left, he kissed me and said not to worry, that they had it all under control. When I got the call from the sergeant, I asked if he was sure it was him, and I didn’t believe him.”

  “Did he tell you anything else? Did he say anything about who the container belonged to, or what was in it?”

  “No, he just said they were going to make a really big drug bust and take down a drug dealer. But he never said what was in it or who it belonged to.”

  “Why do you think anyone would set a trap for the agents and your husband?”

  “I wouldn’t know any of that, ma’am. My husband only told me what I told you. He didn’t say he knew who owned it, or what was in it. I didn’t even know what it was until they told me that he was …” She broke down into tears and couldn’t finish.

  “Please, Mrs. Carmine. Take your time and finish when you can,” the male agent said as he leaned forward and placed a folder on the coffee table in front of the couch.

  Mrs. Carmine composed herself and then finished by saying, “They told me
he had been killed in an explosion. I went to the morgue and identified his body. And after I called my family, you show up and accuse me of knowing what had happened or why!” Her tears turned to anger as she realized what the agents were saying. “If you think for even a minute that I had anything to do with this, then you are plain dumb. I loved my husband very much and I would never hurt him.”

  “Whoa … Mrs. Carmine, we aren’t asking you if you had anything to do with it at all,” the man said. “We were just sent here to follow up on the preliminary investigation done by an Agent … Archer of the FBI,” he said as he found Archer’s name on the report. “We have very different investigation techniques between the two agencies. And we were sent to ask you some very basic questions.”

  “Why would anyone want to hurt my husband? He was a good cop, a great father and … well, he was just the best at everything.”

  “That is why we are investigating the explosion, Mrs. Carmine. We don’t know who was involved or why. The records we have show that the container that exploded was the target of an international drug ring, and the agents who were sent there were the victims of a very harsh message sent to the FBI and ATF by the men we are investigating. They don’t want anyone messing around with their business, and will kill to protect it.”

  “So they were sent to the place that exploded? It wasn’t just by chance that they were at the one container that was set up that way?”

  “I’m afraid not, Mrs. Carmine. The informant who led us to this particular shipping container was found murdered in his apartment just an hour after it happened.”

  “Oh, my … So what does this mean?”

  “It means we have an investigation of not only the murders of two agents and your husband, but the murder of the informant as well. This was a premeditated murder, which is carries a capital offense.”

  “I wished I knew more so I could help you, but honestly, I’ve told you all that I know.”

 

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