Duty With Honor Book Five: An Unexpected Pause

by Jordan Bollinger

  "I suppose not. But, it was how I felt. And then Petrie -- the younger man you have in the other room -- he started up a conversation with me one night, as I ate my dinner in a cafe. One thing led to another. I told him about my wife, and he sympathized. He told me he knew someone that might be able to help me."

  Helen brought in the coffee and muffins, and Beth smiled at him and asked, "Would you like some coffee?"

  "You would trust me? You would give me food?"

  "Why wouldn't I? None of us are ogres -- really."

  Drew cut the zip tie on Burton-Smythe's wrists, as she poured him a mug. "What would you like in it?" she asked.

  He shook his head, saying, "Nothing, thank you. I drink it black."

  She handed it to him and said, "Go on... Do these people -- this organization -- have a name?"

  "Yes, ICOA. It stands for the International Consortium of Anarchy."

  "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Andrew said.

  "Still," Jack told them, smiling, "it does have a certain sixties, James Bond twang to it."

  "Ignore them," she said. "Just keep going."

  "Of course, what they actually wanted was for me to help them. They discovered who I worked for, and that I was unhappy with how my wife's death had been dealt with, and used it to their advantage. They said I should look for any information that might be useful and bring it to them.

  "But, after I brought them the list, they told me that I would have to kill everyone on it. And they gave me that pen. They showed me the pellets and how to load and shoot them. It wasn't until after they gave me the pen and showed me how to use it that I found out how dangerous those pellets were. I shot the one they loaded into a tin of ground coffee, and then put it in a bag of trash and dumped it in an incinerator. That's how frightened I was of the horrible things." He took a drink of his coffee, thought for a moment, and then added, "I should have burned the pen itself -- but I just didn't think of it."

  "But how did you intend on killing the people on your list -- on killing me, if you weren't going to use the pellets?"

  "I don't know." He shook his head, and repeated, "I don't know. I met you at the cemetery. They told me you'd be there. But I didn't tell them I didn't want to use the pen. I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe I hoped if I just met you, and wasn't able to kill you, they would let me off."

  "Surely you must have realized that if you refused to do what they wanted they'd simply kill you, didn't you?"

  "I suppose," he admitted. "But, then I wouldn't be forced to kill anyone."

  "Well...yes," Beth agreed.

  "Why didn't you just go across the bridge, to Vauxhall Cross, and turn yourself in? After all, you had the list and the pen, and all those bank account numbers," Andrew asked.

  "What?"

  "The second piece of microfilm. It's a list of numbered bank accounts in Switzerland and the Cayman Islands. Even if it didn't destroy the ICOA, it would have crippled it. They would have lost a rather large chunk of change," Jack told him.

  "I didn't know. I only looked at the list once -- and not closely, even then. They pointed you out and told me where to find you."

  "You know that when we first met I wouldn't have cared if you had tried to kill me. I was that depressed. I was more than an easy mark for you. Perhaps, it was serendipitous that I was at the top of the list. Maybe they hoped that I'd make it easy for you. Then you'd have blood on your hands, and wouldn't be able to either leave, or turn them in."

  "Yes. Yes. I was a foolish old man. And then, after you went away, they sent that woman to kill you. She was supposed to be their best operative. Yet, somehow, she was always a step behind you. But that didn't stop her -- she killed all those women -- all those poor women," Jarvis sobbed.

  Beth reached out and touched his hand. "I know. I know."

  "After she killed that last woman and still didn't find the pen, they sent me to New Orleans. I was to point you out, so she could kill you and get the pen. I saw you -- over and over -- I saw you in the French Quarter, but I didn't tell her."

  "So, how is it she found us?"

  "She recognized your husband. She followed him to you. But, she knew she couldn't strangle you, because you were always together. So she got a gun, and went to kill the both of you. However, I don't think she was a very good shot, because she was very unhappy about having to use a weapon."

  "She was good enough," Drew said. "She got my arm, and it was exactly where Beth's head was only seconds before. How is it the others got involved?"

  "She called them in. When I didn't point you out right away, she had them come -- to help. She'd told us where you two were staying, and when she didn't come back after an hour, we went looking for her. What we saw was you all driving away. We hailed a taxi, and followed you, but you were ahead of us. We saw you exit for the airport, but had no idea where you went. The old man--"

  "Do you know his name?" Jack asked.

  "Marks, I think his name is Marks, but I could be wrong -- that might only be his first name. He dropped Petrie off. He was to run through the airport terminals, checking on flights to London. Meantime, we drove through parking lots, searching for your rental car."

  "But how did all three of you get together again?"

  "We didn't. At least not in New Orleans. We caught sight of the car, and you two pulling out in a different car. We followed you, and called and told Petrie we would call him once we found out where you were going."

  "But why didn't you try to kill us on the road?"

  "When? You only stopped at truck stops and rest areas -- there were always people around. Besides, we needed the fountain pen back. So, we wanted you to get to where ever it was you were going. We followed you to his," he nodded at Jack and continued, "house. Petrie flew to National Airport and then brought another rental car. He returned the one we had from New Orleans, and then took a cab back to us. That way we hoped you wouldn't notice the same car."

  "So you three just stood around, watching my house for two days?"

  "Yes. We took turns resting in the car. It was awful. We're old men. None of us is up to such cloak and dagger nonsense. And, we didn't see you leave."

  "Good," Jack said, with a smile.

  "Then those two men showed up. They weren't very careful -- talking loudly and then carrying the envelope so we could read the address. We took a picture of it with Marks' cell phone and looked up the address. Then, we got back in the car and came here. Then Marks sent Petrie in to see if you were here, and to find the pen. And, while he was in here, your husband and that other man came and took us prisoners."

  "Well," Andrew said, "to be fair, you didn't put up much of a fight. Why didn't you stay in the car?"

  "I don't know. I've been sleepwalking through the last three or four days. As I just said, we're old men. And I don't think Petrie is any more trained than I am. And neither of us are used to such foolishness. I only wanted it to end." Jarvis sagged back into his chair. He sipped on his coffee, but he suddenly looked extremely old and tired.

  Andrew almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  "I...I really need to use a bathroom," Jarvis said.

  Andrew looked at Jack, who stood up and told him, "Come on."

  They had barely left the room when Beth gestured for Drew to follow her to the window seat, at the far end of living room, where she turned to him, and said, "Andrew..."

  But before she could get another word out, he shook his head, and whispered, "I know what you're going to say, Beth. But, it doesn't matter. He's as guilty as the others."

  "He isn't, Drew. Not really. What did he do?"

  "Beth, I know you like this man -- that he was able to give something -- solace about James -- that I wasn't giving you. But--"

  "Andrew, since when have you been such a stickler for rules? Are you sure you aren't insisting to follow the book with him, because that fact hurt you?"

  "Elizabeth..."

  "Well?"

/>   "Oh, I know. You're right, that did hurt me -- wound my pride. But, that isn't why he has to be brought in, as well. And you know it."

  "I suppose, Drew. It's just..."

  "I know. And, we can include our impressions and thoughts about him in our reports. But, he has to be taken into custody. He might not have gone through with murder. But, he did agree to it, initially."

  "You and Jack break rules all the time. Why can't you two just turn your head this once -- for me?"

  "Bethy..."

  She heard the anguish in his voice, and realized that he didn't really want to prosecute Jarvis any more than she did. But, it wasn't their decision to make.

  Perhaps, she'd be able to plead for him to Sir Anthony. After all, she wasn't at all happy about the Christmas NOC list ruse. It was childish and silly, and put a lot of innocent people -- ordinary citizens -- some of them not even British citizens -- at risk.

  "Helen, I think Mr. Burton-Smythe is in need of some food. In fact, I'm sure we all do. Are there enough cold cuts for the nine of us? And, if there's not, do you have any ideas?"

  "Yes, ma'am I mean, there aren't enough cold cuts -- even for the seven of you. What about ordering pizzas or grinders? John could go pick them up, so it wouldn't take too long."

  Beth's eyes lit up. She loved Andrew. She loved England. But she did miss pizza -- real pizza. "Oh, that's a great idea, Helen. Order several large pizzas and a half a dozen grinders. We can cut them into smaller pieces, so everyone can get a taste of what they want. Then make Jack some coffee and a pot of tea for me. If Drew wants tea, you can make Earl Grey. But, if he says he doesn't want any, make Scottish Breakfast, please. Are there any sodas in the house?"

  "John can run into the store for some before he picks up the pizzas. Don't worry about anything. I'll take care of everything, Miss Beth."

  *****

  Jack brought Burton-Smythe back into the living room, and had him sit in a chair near a corner. He didn't bother to bind him with any zip ties.

  Beth looked over and smiled at him and said, "You just sit down and relax. We're getting some food soon."

  Jack plopped down in a chair, looked over at Jarvis, and then Andrew and Beth, and asked, "What are we going to do with them? Anyone got any ideas?"

  "Eventually," Andrew answered, "we're going to have to get them back to England. I thought about calling to borrow Richard's jet, but decided we'd have too much explaining to do getting out of the States and back into England.

  "I think we're going to have to contact Sir Anthony and have him take care of all the red tape involved. He can send a plane, as well as, at least one other man to help escort them. That way you can go back to your life." He looked at Fitz as if he was going to say more, when Beth nudged his shin. He cleared his throat, and added, "He can also bring all the necessary papers."

  "So, you going to go call him now?" Jack asked.

  "No," Drew countered, "I think we'll have a run at the other two first. From what Burton-Smythe told us, Petrie may know more about the organization. But, I'm betting he doesn't. At least, nothing important -- other than how to contact Marks. And it's Marks that is going to be the only one who knows anything, and I'm willing to bet he is going to be difficult."

  "You want to start with Petrie, or go straight for Marks?"

  "Might as well start with Petrie. Maybe he'll tell us something else -- something that will prove useful when we move on to Marks."

  "Well, they both would probably appreciate a trip to the bathroom," Jack said. "Why don't I escort Petrie first? Then I'll just bring him in here, so you two can get started. Then I'll take Marks on his break, and wait in the kitchen, or in here?"

  "In here. With John leaving to pick up food, we need to keep them all together."

  "Andrew, you are going to have to untie their hands when the food gets here.”

  "I don't know, Beth. They might have to take turns eating."

  "And, thank you for leaving Mr. Burton-Smythe untied."

  "I like the guy too," Jack said in a hoarse whisper. "I believe he regrets getting involved with these people. I think it's okay for him to sit and eat with us. I don't think the other two are all that trustworthy. So I vote they eat in shifts. But, I also think that if Jarvis hears one of them lie -- or even put a creative 'spin' on anything, he'll let us know."

  Beth looked at Jack, hoping he'd say something else in support of Mr. Burton-Smythe. But, he didn't.

  Helen came in and said, "The coffee is dripping. I've got the kettle on for your tea. I've placed the order and they said it would be about twenty-five minutes, so John has plenty of time to get a couple bottles of soda. Shall I bring everything in here and set up on the desk? All right?"

  "Yes, Helen. Thank you."

  Jack brought Petrie into the living room and told him, "Sit down. If you behave yourself, you'll get something to eat and drink."

  John brought Marks through as well. When John returned from the bathroom with Marks, he'd put another zip tie around the man's hands, but this time in front of Marks body.

  Andrew pointed to another chair, and let John maneuver Marks into it, before John said, "I'll be going for the food now. I won't be long." Then he walked out of the room.

  Jack looked over at Marks, and told him, "Just sit down and keep quiet. Don't move. Don't even breathe."

  As Andrew leaned forward and told Petrie, "Now, I want you to tell us everything you can about this little club of yours --the ICOA, or whatever the hell it's called. Why don't you start by telling us how you got involved in it -- how you heard about it?"

  "I don't remember."

  "However," Jack said, bitch-slapping him across the back of his head, "if you won't play nicely you don't need to eat, do you?"

  "I really don't remember," Petrie insisted. "I think I met Marks about the time he began the group. But, I'm not sure how long ago -- a year ago, perhaps a little more. I remember we met at my neighborhood pub."

  "Did someone introduce you? Or, did he approach you?"

  "I don't remember."

  Jack leaned in again, and Petrie flinched, even though Beth knew that Jack hadn't hurt him -- merely gotten his attention. Then he repeated Andrew's question, only louder, "Now, how did you two meet?"

  "I was at the pub with a lady friend. And I was talking to a friend about politics while I was waiting for our drinks at the bar. We only stayed for the one round -- we had dinner reservations -- and when we went to leave, Marks stopped me, shoved a card in my hand, and said he hoped I'd call him. At first, I thought he was a salesman of some kind, and didn't want to call. Later, when I found the card in my pocket, I was about to throw it away, then I thought, the man was only trying to make a living. So, I called."

  "And..." Drew prompted, "did he try and sell you something?"

  At this, Marks struggled to sit up in his chair, as he called out, "I told you before, don't tell them anything!"

  Jack swung around and told Marks, "Keep your mouth shut until we ask you something. And don't move. I get antsy, and I wouldn't want to accidently shoot you."

  Marks squinted his eyes, and for a minute, Beth was sure he was going to protest. But Jack tugged the man's handkerchief from his jacket pocket and said, "I can make you be quiet. I don't want to have to do it -- especially in front of the ladies -- but I will."

  "I'll be quiet. You won't even know I'm here."

  "You better be," Jack told him.

  "You were saying, Mr. Petrie," Beth said, encouragingly, "whether Mr. Marks attempted to sell you something, or not."

  "Yes," Petrie said, "in a manner of speaking, I suppose he did. He asked me if I was happy with my life. If I was happy with the way our country was run. And, I admitted that I wasn't happy -- with either my life or the way the country seemed to be going."

  "Why?" Beth asked.

  "I'd always worked hard at my job, but suddenly, I became redundant. It took me a long time to find another job. And, during that time I lost my wife, my family, and my house
. The flat I live in now is more squalid than my university digs. I have to pay premium prices for my food, and my clothes -- so that I can dress professionally. And VATs just keep climbing. I have a car, but can't afford to put petrol in it. The night Marks gave me his card was the first date I had been on since my divorce. And it had taken me months to save up enough money for a simple evening out for drinks and dinner."

  "And what did Marks tell you?"

  "He said that he was looking for people like me -- who wanted change. He told me he was forming an organization to promote that change. It was then I thought he was looking for money -- you know, donations. And I told him I didn't have any money."

  "And..." Beth said.

  "He laughed and told me he had money -- lots of money, and said what he needed were a few, well-placed, devoted people."

  "Just what made you," Jack inserted, "'well-placed'?"

  "That's just what I asked him. And, he said he knew I worked for the treasury. That's when I laughed, and told him I was a minor clerk, in an office that was practically in the basement. I merely added numbers that were given to me, and turned them in to my supervisor, who then passed them on to the next department."

  "So, what was it he expected you to do?" Drew asked.

  "I was just to keep my eyes and ears open. That, and nose around. I was supposed to find reasons to go to other offices -- on other floors. He insisted that sooner or later, I'd see or hear something I shouldn't. And, that's when I was to collect whatever it was, and contact him, immediately."

  "And..." Beth prompted.

  "One day I heard two men speaking in a lavatory on an upper floor -- I'd begun using different bathrooms, in other departments. They were talking about a grant that had been awarded to some conservative group. I think they were supposed to be promoting old-fashioned values -- something like that."

  Suddenly, Marks became animated, and cried out, "I think you've said quite enough, Petrie."

  When Beth looked at him, he was flushed and struggled to stand, until Jack stood over him wearing a menacing scowl, and said, "Just ignore Mr. Marks. He's not going anywhere until we decide he is. He's not in control here. We are."