Law and Vengeance

by Mike Papantonio

  Queen Dominique was still shaking. “Yes,” she said.

  “Why don’t you sit down right here?” said Gina, leading her to a leather chair that looked like a throne. “I know how upsetting this must be. How about I get you a cup of tea? Does that sound good?”

  “Please,” she said.

  Gina left the room, but she didn’t go to the kitchen.

  Bennie had removed Ivan from the dominatrix’s punishment cross and carried him upstairs to the study. Instead of putting a gag in his mouth, Bennie had left on the mask and ball and kept his hands and feet bound. He laid him face down on the floor. Gina could see that Carol’s sedative was already beginning to work on the prisoner. That would make it easier, thought Gina.

  Deke had a family. He and Teri had a storybook marriage, and Deke’s two children adored him. She was meant to do this by herself.

  “I’m doing this for Angus,” Gina whispered into Ivan’s ear. “Say goodbye, you dirt bag.”

  She had convinced herself that a naked man choking on a big red bondage ball in an “S and M” parlor by accident might actually be a plausible story. Plausible or not, she was committed. He must have realized her intent. Ivan began bucking up and down. Gina used her knee against his back to minimize his squirming and pulled hard on the bondage straps entwining him, forcing the red ball deeper and deeper into his throat.

  She could hear him gagging and the sounds of throwing up. There was no place for his vomit to go. It was filling his windpipe. He was retching and bucking, even as he was dying of asphyxia. Gina pulled all the harder, trying to wedge the ball deeper into his throat as Ivan’s struggles began to diminish.

  And then Gina found herself being lifted in the air. Bennie had her in a bear hug and had pulled her off of Ivan.

  “No!” she screamed.

  “Yes,” said Bennie. “Deke talked to me. He warned me you might try something like this. And he said if you did, then I was supposed to tell you that this guy carried out the order, but we need to know who gave the order.”

  “No, it’s here and now,” Gina insisted.

  “We’ve got to keep the scumbag alive for now,” said Bennie. “We need to do it Deke’s way.”

  Gina finally nodded. She staggered out of the room while Bennie worked to remove the mask and save Ivan’s life before he died from the aspiration of his own vomit.

  Out in the kitchen, Gina made two cups of tea. And then she rejoined Queen Dominique.

  40

  THE FISHING EXPEDITION

  Although there were very few eyes to bear witness anyway, Ivan was hidden in plain sight as he was transported like any other hospital patient would have been. From the dominatrix’s home, he was carted along in a gurney and then lifted into an ambulance. An oxygen mask covered his face, although he was inhaling an oxygen mixture that guaranteed sweet dreams.

  Ivan was taken to a small airport outside Cleveland, where the “patient” was put aboard the Bergman-Deketomis private jet. The patient’s care team boarded after he did; there were two women and one man.

  The next stop was Florida.

  At the same time, another private aircraft was flying toward Spanish Trace. Nick Deketomis would also be tending to the same patient.

  The Jean Louise had been readied for departure, but Captain Dave had been told his services wouldn’t be needed that day. Nick Deketomis had said he would be at the helm.

  Captain Dave was surprised. Deke was proficient in handling the yacht, but it was rare for him to take out the Jean Louise on his own. Still, bosses did what bosses wanted to do.

  Deke arrived at port an hour before dawn. Captain Dave gave him the latest weather reports, including water conditions and tides. “The winds are gonna be gentle. You’ll have a one-foot chop, but overall, today should be a good day on the water.”

  Deke didn’t volunteer where he was headed, or who would be on board. He did tell Captain Dave the passengers would be along shortly, which was signal enough for the captain to leave and ask no more questions.

  Bennie wheeled Ivan along the dock. After they’d landed in Spanish Trace, Ivan had been moved out of the gurney into a wheelchair. Their prisoner was wrapped up in clothes to make him look like an infirm elderly man on oxygen. No one even gave him a second look as he was wheeled along the dock and aboard the Jean Louise.

  The rest of Deke’s crew came along five minutes later. Deke stopped Carol before she boarded. “I want you to go home, Carol.”

  She shook her head. “In for a penny,” she said, “in for a pound.”

  “But not in for ten years,” he said.

  “Who made you God?” she asked.

  “No one,” said Deke. “But I am your boss. And I would ask that you respect your boss’s wishes and go home.”

  “Just leaving feels wrong to me.”

  “It feels right to me,” said Deke.

  “Bennie has a small bag of his belongings hanging from the wheelchair,” she said. “Our friend had a knife and a gun that we dumped in Ohio. In his wallet, we found two thumb drives. I imagine he must have some interesting material on those. We also have his phone, which is password protected, of course.”

  “Thanks, Carol.”

  “Are you sure? I want you to know that I’m okay all the way, even if it comes down to drawing straws.”

  “I know you are,” said Deke, “but not this time.”

  Carol nodded her head and then walked away. From behind her Deke said, “Let’s get ready to depart.”

  Deke set course due south. He was in no hurry. He wanted to get the feel of the Jean Louise. At first it seemed that everyone was holding their breath, but as time passed the tension abated. They moved beyond potential prying eyes. There was an ocean for them to get lost in, and that’s what Deke planned to do.

  They initially traveled in a southwesterly direction and passed a couple of small oil rigs. Drilling in the Gulf of Mexico accounted for a sizable portion of US crude oil and natural gas production.

  The morning haze burned away, and gradually the coastline became more illusion than not. By Deke’s calculations, they were at least fifteen miles offshore with no obstructions on the radar for twenty more miles. He put the Jean Louise on autopilot, pulled back power to barely a snail’s pace, and then he joined everyone on the aft deck.

  Ivan was no longer in his wheelchair. Bennie had duct-taped his arms to a deck chair and secured his roped feet to the hydraulic pins. Their prisoner still looked groggy, but at the sight of Deke he sat up straighter.

  “O captain! My captain!” Ivan said.

  “Hello, Ivan.”

  “I’m honored. Nick Deketomis knows my name.”

  “Don’t be honored. You murdered one of the best men I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. That’s what I’ve come to talk to you about.”

  “Talk? That sounds like a euphemism.”

  “We need answers.”

  “And you’re supposed to be my confessor?”

  “If that’s what you’ll let me be.”

  “I have trouble saying much of anything before I’ve had my morning cup of coffee. That will get my brain working better.”

  “That can be arranged.”

  “And I need my sugar fix as well. I usually start the day with a few doughnuts.”

  “I’ll see if there are any in the galley.”

  Bennie and Gina split their time watching Ivan and the horizon ahead of the boat while Deke made coffee. As much as Ivan tried to ignore Gina, he was unnerved by her cold stare. This was a woman who had already shown her willingness to kill him. Ivan liked strong women. He’d always been attracted to them. But this lady was like a black widow or praying mantis. She’d chew off his head sooner than give him a quickie.

  Deke came with coffee for all four of them and some croissants as well.

  “Garçon,” said Ivan, “unless you want to feed me, I’ll need a hand freed.”

  Bennie pulled out a finely honed knife; it cut right through the duct tape. Iv
an squeezed his left hand open and closed, getting his circulation back. Then he reached for the coffee cup.

  Gina continued to watch his every movement, much to Ivan’s displeasure. “Did you know this witch tried to kill me last night?” he said.

  “No,” said Deke, “nor am I interested. If you want to talk about something that interests me, tell me how you tried to kill her.”

  “That was a mistake,” Ivan said. “I had everything set up. I was in like Flynn. No one would ever have questioned a traffic accident. But what I didn’t take into account was your guy having a passenger with him. She should have died in the crash. I wish she had.”

  “Who hired you, Ivan?”

  “Geez, Deke, I thought you were supposed to be a lawyer. I expected you to finesse this better. And I really thought you’d offer up flowers and dinner before screwing me.”

  “I’m not amused, Ivan. This isn’t a joke.”

  “What is it? Is this your idea of a trial?”

  “This is a fact-finding expedition.”

  “And here I thought it was a fishing expedition.” Ivan looked around at the water. “Is there good fishing around here?”

  “Not a lot of fish in this particular area,” said Deke. “But it’s possible to land a big shark. They call this area shark alley. It’s where the big boys pass as they travel from one feeding and breeding ground to another.”

  Ivan looked north. “How far away is shore?”

  “It’s more than fifteen miles as the crow flies, but then you’re not a crow.”

  “Is this where you’re planning on killing me?”

  “That’s up to you,” said Deke.

  Ivan started to slowly eat his croissant. His every bite seemed to be a thoughtful chew. “Florida is a death penalty state, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” said Deke.

  “So if I wrote out a confession, would you be okay with handing me over to the law?”

  “It’s a start. But you’d also need to provide me with evidence of who hired you and proof of their guilt in Angus’s murder.”

  “I can do that and more.”

  “What do you have?” asked Deke.

  “Would you like to hear an audiotape of a second murder committed by those who hired me?”

  “Why are we even listening to him, Deke?” asked Gina. “He’s lying. Everything he’s saying is just a way for him to try and buy time.”

  “Are you willing to take that chance?” Ivan asked. “Who is guiltier? Is it the party that kills or the party that hires the killer? And are you all right with settling for a little fish and letting the big fish go free?”

  “I’m okay with that,” said Gina. “And your death would spare us from your bullshit.”

  “The lady lawyer is right. I’m just bullshitting you. So what harm would it do to give me a computer with a Wi-Fi connection and five minutes? That’s all I’m asking for.”

  Deke shrugged. “The boat is equipped with Wi-Fi, Ivan, so I don’t see what harm it would do to give you your five minutes. Of course I hope you’re okay with a Glock being aimed your way while you work.”

  Bennie cut off the second wrapping of duct tape, allowing Ivan two free hands to operate the computer. His fingers moved too quickly to be followed, but it clearly took him several passwords to jump through the hoops of his own creation.

  Then, with the volume turned up as far as it would go, Ivan played back the last testament of Kendrick Strahan.

  “Thursby,” said Gina, recognizing his voice.

  “Yes,” Ivan agreed. “And he was ordered to kill Strahan by Tom Lutz.”

  “You have proof of that?” asked Deke.

  “I have many tapes proving Lutz’s guilt,” he said. “I even have him on tape when he hired me to kill your lawyer.”

  “Knapp and Carter had no part in Angus’s death?” Gina asked.

  “They’re innocent, at least in that one death.”

  Deke and Gina looked at one another. Neither of them totally trusted what they were hearing. “Hand me over to the state,” Ivan promised, “and I’ll give you what you need to get Lutz and Thursby. And if you want other white-collar players and politicians, I have plenty of audio of Strahan handing out bribes.”

  “Write everything down,” said Deke. “Leave out nothing about your two murders. We’ll also need the details of where you buried your driver and how he died. That will be your first step toward ever making it back to shore. And I want you to list what you have on Lutz and Thursby.”

  “I am not going to tell you how to access all the tapes and information I’ve assembled,” said Ivan. “That’s my ace card for staying alive.”

  “But you will access it for the Florida authorities?” asked Deke.

  “As soon as you hand me over to them,” Ivan said.

  Ivan filled half a legal pad with writing before complaining of a cramp in one leg. Deke told Bennie to untie the rope, so that he could move his legs freely. The morning passed into afternoon, and Ivan continued to write. Every so often Deke came and looked over his prisoner’s shoulder. From what he could see, Ivan’s account was very thorough. The confirmation of Ivan murdering his driver and the location of the corpse would be the first place for Carol to begin before the day was over.

  In the midst of writing his confession, Ivan suddenly sat up straight. He could hear the sound of his cell phone ringing.

  “That’s not right,” said Ivan. “I need to see my phone!”

  “I’ll get it,” said Bennie.

  “Hurry!” Ivan yelled.

  When Bennie reappeared the phone began offering up a different noise. Now it sounded like a cicada; it was whirring, whistling, and clicking.

  “There’s been a breach of my defenses!” Ivan shouted. “My systems are under attack. I need that laptop! And my phone! This is an emergency!”

  Ivan turned to Deke; his desperation was pouring out of him. “I need to protect my recordings. They’re proof of what I told you!”

  “Give him his phone,” Deke said, “and the laptop.”

  Ivan was all fingers and commands. He typed in passwords and moved through firewalls, managing to get into his own home security system. Deke, Gina, and Bennie came over to see, wondering what had gotten their prisoner so amped. Then images began to appear. With each one Ivan screamed, “No! No! No!” Some with closed-circuit video streams went blank; they had been fried. In others, gray-black smoke made it difficult to see what was going on. But most of the closed-circuit cameras showed a conflagration; hungry fire was consuming Ivan’s home, turning his computer screen into a glowing orange.

  “Over a million in cash burning up,” Ivan said. “Those fuckers.”

  His hands moved over the keyboard; using CCTV feeds, Ivan stalked his own home. Then one of his cameras caught Lutz and Thursby in an area untouched by flames. The two were remedying that by applying some kind of accelerant.

  “Bastards!” screamed Ivan.

  From his phone came the sounds of a raging fire. At a typed command, Ivan’s computer went split screen. On one side of the display Thursby and Lutz could be seen setting fires; on the other side there was a familiar yellow and black image denoting radiation and the word CAUTION. Ivan’s fingers moved feverishly. “I’m in,” he muttered, and then he tapped in a password. A five-second countdown appeared on the screen.

  “Three,” whispered Ivan, “two.”

  Ivan’s phone suddenly roared. Then it spat out static and its connection to Ivan’s house was lost.

  The explosion destroyed almost all of the security cameras, but Ivan found one camera still operating. Through its lens, the wreckage of the house could be seen. And it showed something else; Lutz’s head was on the ground. It was mostly intact, although completely separated from his body. Thursby wasn’t as identifiable. His large body was scattered in scores of pieces. Like Humpty Dumpty, he wasn’t going to be put together again.

  “Take that you motherfuckers!” Ivan screamed.

  Smoke, flame
s, and body parts filled the monitor. Into that mix could be seen the reflection of Ivan’s gloating face. Everyone stared at the computer screen, transfixed by the horrific images.

  Ivan took advantage of that. He leaped from his seat and began running. Bennie went vertical, but was too late. Gina and Deke ran after him, but Ivan wasn’t going to be caught. He jumped over the railing and plummeted into the ocean.

  41

  THE BOUNTY

  From the porch, Cary Jones called, “Welcome to the Peach Capital of South Carolina.”

  “Are you pulling my leg?” asked Cara.

  “No,” he said. “That’s what Gaffney likes to call itself. Of course I’ve heard some of the residents refer to us as the Peach Pit of South Carolina.”

  Cary joined Cara on the sidewalk and shook her hand. “I told you I’d come to Gaffney one day,” she said.

  It had been months since she’d talked to Private Jones at Fort Bragg. His quiet desperation had struck a chord in her. She knew he needed help and feared what he might do without it.

  “I thought we’d sit on the porch,” he said, “if that’s okay with you. At least there’s a little breeze out here.”

  “That sounds fine,” said Cara.

  After Private Jones’ honorable discharge, he had returned to the family home in Gaffney. It was a run-down-looking structure, as were most of the homes on the street.

  Cara followed him up the steps and he motioned for her to sit down. “I brewed some sun tea,” he said. “Would you like some?”

  “I would,” she said. “It’s crazy hot out here.”

  “Summer kind of sucks in Gaffney,” he said.

  He went into the house and returned with two glasses of ice tea. They clinked their glasses together and each said, “Cheers.”

  At the same time, out of each of their mouths flowed, “So, how are you doing?” Then both of them laughed.

  “I would say, ‘Jinx, owe a Coke,’ but I’m afraid we don’t have any,” he said.

  “The tea is just fine,” she said.

  Both of them sipped and reflected. Cara spoke first. “That case is over,” she said. “We won. That’s sort of why I’m here. Our firm was able to get a fifty million dollar settlement that’s being called the Angus Moore Wounded Soldiers Fund. It’s supposed to provide physical and mental therapy for soldiers who’ve served in Afghanistan and other combat areas. I thought about you.”