Paul addressed her. "We'll take it in and place it for you. It's very heavy and difficult to handle." Jewel led the way through a hallway and into a large, rectangular living room. The decor was modern, leather and chrome, light-colored walls and ceilings and light earth tone carpet and tile. A floor-to-ceiling window wall highlighted a fabulous view of Seattle and beyond. Paul preferred the dark, heavy colors and furniture of his inherited home. To him it conveyed warmth, coziness and tradition. This house exuded new wealth and recently acquired taste and amenities: a phony aura.
A slender man in his early sixties wearing an uppity sneer entered the room as Jewel directed Johnny to where the arrangement would look the best. Paul recognized him from news media photos as Dinesh Maisuria. The dark features, black hair, and disdainful sneer were proof positive. Johnny placed the flowers on a gleaming stainless steel pedestal in front of the wall of windows and across from the main seating area. Paul handed the card to Ms. Bateman and she glowed as she read it. She smirked and passed it to Dinesh.
There was an awkward moment when no apparent reason for the delivery men to continue hanging around became obvious. Tension between the two groups quickly became apparent. The cheap billionaire bitch could have at least proffered a gratuity for their labor. Paul fumbled the revolver out of his pant’s pocket.
Jewel screamed. "What the hell is this? Put that thing away and leave or I'll call the police."
Paul pushed her backward and she stumbled and fell onto the sky-blue leather couch behind her.
Dinesh raised his hands to take control. "Now see here, if you are after money, we have none." He raised his pants leg. "We are under house arrest and cannot leave, so we do not need money."
Paul played the part of a thief convincingly. "Yeah sure. This big fancy house and no money." He laughed as he reached in his fanny pack and handed Johnny four plastic slip ties.
Johnny flipped Dinesh around to secure his hands behind his back. The short, slender, wiry man made a dash to escape. He was between Paul and Jewel when Paul kicked his left leg out and tripped Dinesh. Before the older man could rise, Johnny was on top of him and pounded him in the back, driving the older man to the floor. Dinesh grunted in pain and relaxed.
Jewel screamed and rolled forward with exaggerated effort to rise from the couch. Paul stepped to her and shoved the pistol barrel harshly against her chest. She whimpered but leaned back in the couch. Tears of fear ran down her cheeks, but she remained relatively silent.
Johnny secured Dinesh's hands then moved him to the couch and tied his feet together. Against her slight resistance and protestations, he did the same to Jewel.
Paul asked, "Who else is here?"
She hesitated seconds too long. "The policeman who watches us is in the kitchen, and he's armed."
He smirked at her then turned to Johnny. "Sure, that's why you threatened to call the police. Cain, watch these two while I check the rest of the house." Before he left the room, he handed Johnny a pair of nitrile gloves and pulled a pair on his own hands.
He returned in fifteen minutes with a pile of blankets and comforters from the beds. "Alright, let's get started." Paul addressed the captives, "We are going to help you escape, so I can get my money back. How do we open and close the gate?"
Dinesh had been silent while assessing the situation. He turned to Jewel. "I do not trust these men. Do not tell them anything."
A bulky, clear glass ashtray sat on a coffee table. Paul picked it up and smacked Dinesh on the side of his jaw then made a backward pass and pounded the other side. Blood seeped from bruised and broken skin at the jaw bones.
Jewel's eyes were large and she screamed shrilly.
Paul leaned over to stare at her face. "Tell me what I want to know, or I'll beat his pretty face to a pulp while you watch."
Jewel spoke non-stop and Dinesh didn't attempt to quiet her. Paul opened the gates with the remote then walked there and closed them using the code Jewel volunteered. On his way back to the house, he stopped to phone the Hyatt Hotel in San Francisco. He asked for the assistant manager.
"Good evening. This is Paul Peltier in room 345. My grandson and I are sightseeing in the Redding area and will be here for the next two or three days. Please hold our room until we return. — Thank you. I appreciate your assistance."
If any notes were left from the staff about their room appearing to be vacated, he wanted a reason for being away from the hotel for several days. His walk was two-fold: as he spoke he scanned the trees for security cameras but didn't see any. As soon as he entered the house he instructed Johnny to put the flower arrangement back in the van. They'd not inadvertently leave any clues for the police investigators to follow back to them. The clerk at the florist's shop would likely remember the expensive floral arrangement and provide descriptions of both men. On his return, Johnny was assigned to make the bedding covers into a pallet for the victims to lie on. As an afterthought, he nervously wiped the glass ashtray even though he couldn’t have left fingerprints. They hadn't touched anything else before putting the gloves on.
Pausing a minute, Paul reviewed his plan and their progress. The next step was tricky and they would need to move fast. He backed the van close to the entrance to the house and then opened the gates remotely.
Both captives were hurriedly forced into the van to lay on the piles of blankets from their home. Paul forced each captive to swallow a Brotizolam knockout pill, a hypnotic with a five- to six-hour period of incapacitation. He knew of its serious chronic side effects if ingested in repeated dosages, but it was a chance he'd decided to take. It really didn't matter if the victims were affected or even died earlier than planned. Dinesh objected vehemently but cooperated after threats of more violence.
He and Johnny each had a pair of heavy duty metal shears when they knelt at the feet of their groggy captives. Paul pointed at the anklets. "This looks like the thinnest section so we'll cut here. As soon as the anklets are off, you toss them inside the house and close the door. It's already set to lock when pulled shut. I'll start the van and we'll leave. Understood?" Johnny nodded and began cutting.
The synthetic material was tough and had wires embedded in it. Johnny finished his first. Paul struggled for another two minutes before his anklet fell away. Johnny grabbed it and ran to the house while Paul shut and locked the van's back doors then ran for the cab.
When Johnny’s door slammed, they sped down the driveway and slid to a stop beside the gate station. In a rush, Paul punched in the code he'd been given. Nothing happened. He tried it again. Nothing. The third time he slowed, breathed deeply to calm himself, and carefully entered the series of numbers as written. Both gates slid closed behind them. He put the van in drive and cautiously pulled away.
Driving at the speed limit, they'd barely gone a mile when two police cars approached and passed by them with sirens screaming and lights flashing. Paul’s expression was dour. It was close, very close but they'd made it. Soon they would be on Highway 90 West and stay on it through Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, and South Dakota before they'd turn south to Kansas City. If all went well, they'd be home in forty-four hours. Again, they'd take turns driving four to six hours at a time. It would be difficult, but he had the determination and motivation to see it through. After driving two hours, he pulled to the shoulder and parked while Johnny tossed the floral arrangement down a steep embankment.
Paul drove six more hours through awesome scenery. Johnny slept in the passenger seat with the seat back leaned back as far as it would go. Jewell woke first and asked for water. Paul woke Johnny as he exited the highway and then drove ten minutes until he found an isolated spot to park on a dirt road a hundred yards into a forest area. They opened the back doors and pulled Jewel from the van. Paul cut her restraints and handed her a roll of toilet paper. "This is the only potty break for the next ten or twelve hours. Watch her closely, Johnny. If she tries to escape, hurt her badly." He thrust the black iron pipe out, and Johnny nodded remorsefully as his hand wrapped a
round the weapon. Jewel whimpered as she walked to the side of the van, dropped her shorts and panties and squatted. She avoided looking at Johnny standing three feet away staring at her predicament. Johnny watched her bare bottom intently.
The bowel and bladder emptying procedure was repeated with Dinesh. His face was dark and swollen. Dried blood streaked from his jaw down his neck. He made no attempt to speak or disobey. Both prisoners were fed half a ham and cheese sandwich and shared a twelve-ounce bottle of water before new restraints were applied. Their hands were secured in front of them so they could sleep without the imposition of lying on their restrained arms. Red rubber ball gags secured in their mouths ensured their silence. Paul sat in the back of the van with Jewel and Dinesh as Johnny drove back to the interstate and then travelled thirteen miles to the next truck stop.
Johnny parked at the outermost fueling station and went inside to prepay with cash for diesel fuel. Paul held the pipe in his right hand. "If either if you make a sound, I'll beat your head unmercifully until you pass out. Is that understood?" Jewel nodded. Paul prodded Dinesh who stared at him hatefully before nodding; Jewel appeared fearful.
When the dual fuel tanks were full, Johnny jogged back to the office for his change and returned with two large fountain sodas. Paul climbed up front to the passenger seat, and they continued their trip across the northern states on Interstate 90 East. Paul stared at the rough country and wondered how people existed so far out in the boonies. To him it was a beautiful but frightening wilderness that forged a civilization foreign to his understanding. After twenty minutes, he drifted into a deep but troubled sleep in the uncomfortable passenger seat.
During Paul's next stint at driving, he scanned to a radio station giving the national news. A massive manhunt was underway for Jewel Bateman and Dinesh Maisuria. A female FBI spokesman said the pair was believed to have escaped from their Seattle, Washington, home in order to leave the country. There were no clues as to who helped orchestrate the escape or what country the fugitives planned to hide in. Paul smiled broadly. Apparently, they had pulled the kidnapping off successfully and left the authorities with egg on their faces. The next act of his play would smear the egg on even thicker.
The weekly staff meeting at J&M Investigations was underway in Kate's office. Carter gave updates on two surveillance cases in progress. The firm had contracted with three retired police officers from St. Louis City and St. Louis County for part-time work. Captain Davis had recommended all three retired detectives. Kate spoke about two prospective clients close to signing new contracts. One was expected to bring his wife to the office to commit the next morning. The other was gathering additional information before signing for a short-term surveillance of their ex-daughter-in-law who was given custody of their granddaughter. They suspected their son's ex of dealing drugs.
In her spare time, Deline had delved into the demise of the Peltier Manufacturing Co. "The company lost several lawsuits with high-dollar judgments to unions for hindering unionization efforts. Around the same time, competitors won patent infringement judgments for millions of dollars. There were also design and production issues with new products that hurt sales and lost customers. Paul Peltier sold the company that was previously worth over three hundred million dollars at its peak for thirty-seven million dollars." She paused, then added, "One financial news reporter described his son, John Paul Peltier, in a candid report as arrogant and incompetent in the role of president and CEO of the failing company. He directly attributed the company's demise to incompetent management." She looked up from her page of notes. "That would be a hard truth to admit for a man as arrogant and proud as Paul D. Apparently, the firm had done well under the father's management before he turned it over to the son. Another report hinted of charges of embezzlement being investigated at the time of John Pauls' death. Those, of course, were dropped after the son's untimely demise."
She glanced up thoughtfully. “No mechanical cause for the plane crash was found. It could have been done purposely out of fear and frustration to escape criminal punishment and his father’s disapproval.”
A day and a half later, the white van parked in the garage at the Peltier estate two hours after darkness sequestered the area. Jewel and Dinesh had been fed full rations twelve hours before reaching St. Louis. It was dark but Paul left the prisoners bound, gagged and blindfolded inside the locked vehicle until three the next morning. Both could barely walk after being constrained for such an extended period. The silent house opened for them ominously as the prisoners were escorted to the basement one at a time. Dinesh was the first to be led to the workroom. He was forcefully stripped of his clothing, bound, gagged, and shoved into one of three metal cages. Ten minutes later, Jewel was prepared and roughly pushed into the adjoining cage. She gurgled around the ball gag incomprehensibly while tears and drool streamed down her face. Within minutes both prisoners shivered from the cool moist air in the subterranean, stone walled space. One at a time they were forced to swallow strong diuretics and denied any other liquids or foods. Both questioned why they were there and didn't appear to accept the vague answers Paul fed them. Both looked at the metal table with synthetic straps and then at each other with fear and apprehension. They moved to the metal separating them and held hands through the bars.
As usual, Anastasia left at five that evening for her apartment five blocks away. She noticed the unusual amount of foot traffic to and from the basement but dared not question the coming and going of Paul and Johnny.
Finally, after each prisoner made several trips to a nearby commode, it was time for the impaling. Dinesh sensed something horrible was about to be forced upon them and struggled mightily for a man of bantam stature. The sight of the stainless steel table with straps attached to it frightened him from the time he'd entered the foul room. Two hard blows to the head by Johnny subdued his thrashing long enough for the restraints to be attached and tightened. Paul ignored his garbled pleading around the ball gag. A haunting vision of what was to come hung like a grotesque Halloween mask on Johnny.
Jewel's vocal protestations sounded like cat mewlings around her ball gag. When Paul picked up the heavy short-handled hammer and placed the steel rod next to Dinesh's left ear, she became silent, looked away, closed her eyes while her body slowly folded, and collapsed to the cold concrete floor.
Paul hesitated and spoke to his first victim. "Dinesh Maisuria, you are guilty of facilitating Jewel Bateman in the theft of billions of dollars from investors who trusted her to have integrity and treat them with the respect they were due. For your indiscretion and greed, you are hereby sentenced to die."
Jewel's mind was shrouded in a thick fog. She stared at the slick concrete she sat on and wondered who these vile people were. What right did they have to impose death sentences? The hammer blow against the steel rod caused her body to quiver like Jell-O as Dinesh made a final, terrible animalistic sound. Then he was silent and the only sounds Jewel heard echoing off the stone walls were the metallic ringing of metal on metal.
Thirty minutes later, Jewel felt nylon straps tighten against her yielding, frigid body. Her mind slipped into a near comatose state as fear and revulsion collaborated to overwhelm her senses. She accepted she was about to die a horribly gruesome death for the greedy actions her executioner was at that very moment accusing her and Dinesh of committing. She barely felt the cold, blunt steel rod as it pressed against her left eye; she knew her death was imminent and all the money they'd embezzled couldn't save her. A split second before hideous pain enveloped her, she accepted a final frightening truth: she was another victim of the nationally infamous Three Monkey's murderer.
Then extreme pain elicited a shrill scream and her body shuddered and bucked uncontrollably for a few, brief, final seconds. Tears streaked down Johnny's cheeks as he turned away from his granddad's view as his palms pressed firmly against his ears.
Two hours before dawn, the white van sped east on Interstate 70. Two ten-foot-tall fiberglass stepladders were bung
eed to the racks on top. The corpses lay in the back wrapped in old, stained and tattered painter's canvasses. They would cross Illinois, Indiana, and part of Ohio before stopping to rest. Paul knew driving the required distance with minimal rest was dangerous after their recent jaunt from the West Coast. Both men were nearly exhausted, and the mental strain started to show as they snapped at each other over trivial issues. The drive was necessary because they couldn't take a chance by leaving the new corpses near St. Louis. That action would pinpoint their location for the authorities and invite massive, thorough investigations.
As he drove, Paul wondered how these recent experiences would affect Johnny long term. The boy was compassionate in normal circumstances and cringed from the actual killing. Was he being conditioned to accept harming others as acceptable behavior? After Paul's death, would Johnny commit more crimes because of the diabolical criminal acts he'd been encouraged to participate in? Would he sink to the level of a common criminal, perhaps a killer without a conscience? Would he be sentenced to a jail term? Would the name Peltier come to be reviled for their terrible acts even though they were committed for the good of the nation? He prayed his lone heir would be spared those ignominies.
Paul glanced to his right. Johnny looked so innocent as he slept. He was just a big overgrown kid intent on pleasing his grandfather. A tear slid down Paul's face and he quickly wiped it away. He would wake his grandson in three hours and together they would finish the job they'd started. They would drive south of Columbus, Ohio, and search for a desolate site to stage the bodies. Hopefully, the letters to the media that would follow would suffice to prepare the masses to mobilize. A majority of the people were needed to take part in forging the changes that would redirect the nation back to the intent of the founding fathers.
The Three Monkeys, a Carter A. Johnson & Kate Menke Thriller Page 16