by Matt Rogers
‘So much, Alastair,’ Kerr said. ‘So goddamn much.’
‘Where are you?’
‘I’m clear,’ she said. ‘I’m heading home and summoning a fucking arsenal of our men to safeguard the perimeter. I’ll be damned if they’re touching my family.’
‘Wait,’ Icke said. ‘Is this about our conversation the other day?’
She hesitated. ‘What?’
‘When I said I wanted Melanie for the night,’ Icke said. ‘And you okayed it. Do you think she’s with me?’
‘What? No. Of course not. You can have her when I say you can. Not a moment sooner.’
He said, ‘I thought that was always the arrangement. So what are you all paranoid about then? Do you know where Melanie is?’
‘I’m sure she’s at home,’ Kerr said. ‘You’re focusing on the wrong things, Alastair. You don’t understand what this is.’
Icke said. ‘What is this?’
‘War,’ Kerr said.
He said, ‘What do you need from me? Do you want to rendezvous?’
‘Now’s not the time for that.’
‘I meant professionally,’ Icke hissed. ‘Your mind’s always in the gutter, isn’t it?’
‘You’re the one who first solicited me,’ she said. ‘Don’t put this on me.’
He said, ‘So what do you need?’
She said, ‘I’m thinking of nuking the operation.’
‘What?’ he said, flummoxed. ‘Why?’
‘There’s a rogue force here in town,’ she said. ‘They’ve demolished Ray, they’ve demolished Gates, and now they’re doing their very best to demolish you and me. I think it’s time to use the failsafe. We shut everything down, we dispose of the product, we erase any trace of our setup, and then I’ll go to the media.’
‘You’ll do what?!’ Icke roared.
Downstairs, his wife let out a muffled sob. He wasn’t sure why.
Misery ran up through the walls.
Kerr said, ‘It’s over, Alastair. At least, this version is. These people kidnapped me today. They stormed into my office, killed two of my heavy hitters and beat the rest of them into submission. I barely escaped tonight. Tomorrow they’ll come back and try again, and I don’t have the resources to resist. But I have surveillance footage from my building of them coming in and holding up the whole place. I can make them Public Enemy Number One if I take the clip to the journalists on my payroll. We plaster their faces all over Vegas, and we sink back into our public personas until the media firestorm either drives them out of town or gets them arrested. Then we start up again, after the heat is off. Comprende?’
He listened.
He soaked it in.
He didn’t like it one bit.
He said, ‘I have manpower. I have the complex in Henderson. Have you forgotten about that?’
She sighed. ‘You don’t understand.’
‘What don’t I understand?’
‘Whatever you’ve got … it’s not enough.’
‘Who are these guys?’
‘I don’t know…’
A pause.
Icke started, ‘I’ll sort out what Ray wants—’
He cut himself off before Kerr followed up with the inevitable. ‘He’s dead, Alastair. Remember?’
‘This is bad,’ Icke said.
‘Yes,’ Kerr said. ‘It is.’
‘The Henderson complex,’ he said. ‘We’re storing a few girls there for the cool down process, remember? I think that Swedish bitch’s daughter is one of them. Are you saying…?’
‘I’m not saying anything.’
‘I’ll get rid of them,’ Icke said. ‘Put them out of their misery and bury them. We need full deniability.’
He sighed and looked around. There was another tin of chewing tobacco on the nightstand. He picked it up, stuffed half the tin into his lower gums until they were overflowing with black sludge, and waited for the nicotine to hit. Kerr waited in dutiful silence on the other end. She knew what he was doing, knew all his vices. This was one of his tamer passions.
When the compound flooded his brain, he basked in it. It silenced all those tricky intrusive thoughts, took his mind off how miserable his family was, how fucked his operation was.
It left only one thought.
The right way forward.
Get rid of them.
I can do that.
He fetched his keys off the nightstand and said, ‘I’ll get right to it.’
Another pause.
‘Hold on,’ Kerr said. ‘Melanie’s calling me.’
‘You take it,’ he said. ‘I know what I’m doing.’
‘I’ll call right back.’
The line died.
61
Violetta made Melanie drive.
So she could aim the gun at her and work her phone at the same time.
Melanie pulled tentatively out of the laneway, taking her time to accustom to the bullet-riddled SUV. Her eyes were muddied in the way King and Slater had described from their first night at Wan’s — drenched in mind-altering substances like booze, weed, MDMA, coke, ketamine. Any or all of the above. But she was lucid, and the terror of being abducted had brought her way back down, so Violetta was comfortable she wouldn’t inadvertently crash the car.
Only deliberately.
For good measure Violetta said, ‘Honey, if you even think about veering into oncoming traffic, it won’t change a thing. It’ll only make me pull this trigger faster.’
Melanie was ghost-white.
She said, ‘I’ll behave.’
‘That’s my girl,’ Violetta said.
‘I want to go home,’ Melanie said in a feeble voice, both hands gripping the wheel tight. ‘Please…’
Violetta considered what was waiting for the girl back home.
‘No you don’t,’ she said.
‘I do.’
‘What were you doing at Wan’s, then?’ Violetta said. ‘What were you doing with that scumbag? Why weren’t you back with your family?’
‘Armando’s a good guy,’ Melanie muttered. ‘You wouldn’t understand. He was a good guy. You killed him. I can’t believe you killed him…’
‘You have a lot to learn about good guys and bad guys, Melanie.’
‘He—’
‘He gave you drugs. He gave you drinks. He gave you lots of money to keep men happy.’
‘I’m not ashamed of what I do,’ Melanie said, sticking her chin out, faux-defiant.
‘When you turn eighteen you can do whatever the hell you want,’ Violetta said. ‘Until then…’
‘You’re not my mother. You’re just some bitch who’s holding me hostage. I hope you feel good about yourself.’
I wish I was your mother, Violetta said. I wish you never met the sociopath who gave birth to you.
Violetta said, ‘That reminds me.’
She kept the gun aimed at Melanie’s head as she tapped away at the girl’s phone. She didn’t type more than two letters at a time without flashing a glance at the driver’s seat, making sure Melanie didn’t get any smart ideas.
She found Kerr’s number — Mom — and dialled.
It rang for a long time.
On the very last ring before cutting to voicemail, Kerr answered.
‘Melanie,’ she said. ‘Are you at home? I’m on my way. Listen, I need you to—’
Kerr was panicked.
Violetta cut her off. ‘No. She’s not at home.’
Violetta heard Kerr freeze, suppress a sharp inhale of breath, then take her mouth away from the receiver, probably to look down at her watch. It couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes since Kerr had escaped in Arden. In that time, Violetta had somehow tracked down her daughter and abducted her. Were these people omnipotent? Omnipresent? All-seeing, all-knowing?
I don’t even know where my daughter is, Kerr would be thinking. How does this bitch?
Violetta said, ‘Do you understand what’s happening?’
Kerr said, ‘I understand.’
‘If that’s what you want.’
‘I’m surprised you care, Gloria,’ Violetta said. ‘I’m surprised your own flesh and blood is more important to you than your sick little operation.’
Kerr said, ‘Let’s cut the insults. Just tell me what I need to do to get her back, and I’ll do it. It shouldn’t be any more difficult than that.’
It stopped Violetta in her tracks. It made her realise how unfathomably complex human beings could be. There was genuine care in Kerr’s voice. She wanted her daughter to be okay. She desperately wanted her safe.
So then why on earth do you pimp her out? Violetta thought, flabbergasted.
She suppressed all her confusion and said, ‘Where are you keeping Elsa Bell?’
‘A complex off North Racetrack Road in Henderson. West of Vegas.’
That was easy, Violetta thought.
She said, ‘Go and get her.’
‘It’s not my building,’ Kerr said. ‘I don’t have access to it.’
‘That’s convenient, isn’t it?’
‘I swear on my life and the life of my daughter I’m telling you the truth.’
‘Whose building is it, Gloria?’
Silence.
The pivotal moment.
Do or die.
Give up the juicy information or never hear from your daughter again.
Kerr tried a last-ditch attempt to call Violetta’s bluff. ‘You’re good people. You wouldn’t lay a finger on my daughter. You’re better than that. You wouldn’t hurt an innocent.’
‘Ward was an innocent,’ Violetta said. ‘He didn’t harm us. He didn’t want to die. We killed him.’
Kerr scoffed. ‘He gave you away, so he sure as shit harmed you. And you didn’t even kill him. Your friend used him as a human shield to save himself after he betrayed all of you. Nice try.’
Violetta went quiet.
She took the phone away from her ear and pressed it against her thigh to muffle the receiver.
She said, ‘Scream or I’ll shoot you.’
She lifted the phone back up, six inches from Melanie’s face.
Melanie sobbed and screamed.
It was only half-forced.
Violetta put the phone back to her ear. ‘You were saying?’
‘Chief Judge Alistair Icke,’ Kerr said without hesitation, ‘of the Las Vegas Justice Court.’
Violetta’s insides churned.
How deep does this go?
‘Thank you, Gloria.’
‘He has significant manpower,’ Kerr said. ‘He bought out a private security firm in Henderson a few years ago, doubled all the salaries, and brought them on as his private cadre. He managed to—’ She cut herself off, mulling over something. ‘Tell me, do you already know about Icke? Like you knew about me and Gates?’
‘No,’ Violetta admitted.
Kerr said, ‘Okay. The first thing you need to know is he’s absolutely relentless. I’m waiting for the day he drops dead because he treats his body like he treats everything else in his life. He hammers the ever-loving shit out of it. He’s addicted to about ten different substances and he uses that false energy to keep his hands in a hundred different pies. He has ties to almost all organised crime in this city. I’m just a cog in his wheelhouse. I’m not defending myself — I know my actions are indefensible — I’m just telling it like it is. The people he has aren’t like the ones you dealt with at my offices. They’re a different class of criminal.’
Violetta said, ‘We can handle it.’
‘I need to stop him,’ Kerr said. ‘He’s on his way there now to kill Elsa and the other girls we have stashed there.’
Violetta’s stomach sank. ‘And why would he be doing that?’
‘You tell me.’
‘It’d have nothing to do with the fact you just escaped and are now able to contact him? You wouldn’t have been the one to suggest it, would you?’
Silence.
Violetta was expecting a lie.
Instead she got the truth.
Kerr said, ‘I’ve fucked up. I’ve made mistakes. I’m going to fix them. I’m going to fix it all, and I’m going to get my daughter back, and everything’s going to be okay.’
Violetta said, You keep thinking that.
See where you end up.
But she said, ‘That sounds like an excellent idea, Gloria.’
Kerr said, ‘I’ll stall Icke, but I’ll make sure he’s there when you hit the place. So the hostages are alive and well and Icke is right there for the taking.’
Violetta said, ‘How am I supposed to know you’ll follow through with that?’
‘You’ll have to trust me,’ Kerr said. ‘Like I’m trusting you not to harm my baby girl.’
Violetta didn’t even begin to lecture Kerr on the hypocrisy of the care she was showing.
She let it go.
She said, ‘You go do that and get back to me.’
‘Can I speak to Melanie?’
Violetta begrudgingly passed the phone over.
Melanie said, ‘Hi,’ in a weak voice.
Then, ‘Yeah, I’m okay.’
Then, ‘No, she hasn’t hurt me yet.’
Then, ‘Okay. I’ll see you soon.’
Violetta took the phone away from her ear and killed the call to prevent Kerr from tracing it.
Then she sat in silence and stewed.
Anyone else might have found it incredibly odd that Kerr would spill her guts about her business partner and confidant. She certainly didn’t need to provide so much information.
But Violetta thought she understood.
Deep down, somewhere way, way below the surface, was a decent human being trapped, stuffed in a box for most of her adult life, wanting out.
Maybe it had taken the abduction of her daughter for the good in her to start clawing its way out, piece by piece.
Violetta was still going to kill her.
First chance she got.
At least it was nice to know she wasn’t all the way evil.
A mile from home, Violetta told Melanie to pull over, then blindfolded her and marched her round to the passenger seat. She drove the last mile to their estate herself, and pulled into the garage alongside the BMW.
62
They gathered around the kitchen island — King, Slater, Alexis.
It seemed right.
They had thousands of square feet of space for utilisation, but this had become their makeshift briefing station. They’d barely been home in two days, barely had time to stop and breathe, let alone think or plan. Now Keith Ray was dead. Alan Ward was dead. Ray’s goons were no more. The LVMPD side of things was desolate, wiped out, eradicated.
King thought, And now what’s left?
It could very well stop at Clark County District Attorney Gloria Kerr.
It probably didn’t.
It probably went higher.
Alexis sipped water and nibbled at a salad, trying her best to reignite her appetite. King could see from the look on her face she still felt sick to her stomach, and she had every reason to.
Slater downed ibuprofen, iced his ankle, and used endless amounts of compression tape to support the swollen joint. As King and Alexis sat he paced the room, wincing the whole way, but he barely limped.
King said, ‘You need to rest it.’
Through gritted teeth Slater said, ‘This isn’t over. And I don’t think it’s broken. If I’ve strained it or torn a ligament … that’s manageable.’
King saw the sweat beads on his forehead, the vein protruding from his temple with each step, the discomfort on his face.
King said, ‘It’s worse than you think.’
Slater said, ‘I know.’
He hobbled to the stool, sat down, and breathed.
He said, ‘But I don’t care.’
Alexis looked up from the salad and said, ‘I’m so glad Ray’s dead.’
‘So are we,’ King said.
She sho
ok her head. ‘Not like me.’
Slater sat in pensive silence.
Alexis said, ‘If you’d called a minute later…’
She shuddered.
King said, ‘But we didn’t. And here you are.’
She furrowed her brow. ‘You expect me to just move on?’
‘What else is there to do?’
‘Maybe reflect on the fact I was almost raped and murdered for more than a few throwaway minutes?’ she said. ‘How about that?’
He said, ‘Fine by me.’
‘We’re not all superhuman like you.’
King said, ‘I never said I was.’
‘Is that what you do every time you come within a hair of losing your life?’ Alexis said. ‘Just “move on”?’
King said, ‘Usually.’
‘You make it sound so easy.’
‘I never mentioned it being easy,’ King said. ‘In fact, it’s the hardest thing you’ll ever do.’
Alexis didn’t answer that.
King said, ‘But it’s also the most beneficial. And those two things go hand in hand.’
She nodded.
He said, ‘Do what’s right, not what’s expedient.’
She nodded again.
She said, ‘I’m just so angry.’
Slater said, ‘Welcome to my life.’
She said, ‘You feel it, don’t you? I’ve seen you at your worst. King doesn’t get angry like you do. I mean, never towards me. Always towards … the scum out there.’
‘King’s unique,’ Slater said. ‘I’m not as detached as he is.’
She said, ‘In everything else you two seem just about the same to me.’
Slater smirked. ‘You should have seen me a few months ago. It was pure coincidence that I stopped drinking the night we met, but you helped me stick to it. Before that…’
King said, ‘You technically weren’t a problem drinker.’
Slater raised an eyebrow. ‘If I wasn’t, then no one is.’
King said, ‘You didn’t let it affect your life. You drank yourself into a stupor every night but you got up every morning and worked yourself to the bone to flush it out of your system. I never saw it impede your performance or affect your life.’
Slater paused, ruminating.
King said, ‘You’re relentless in everything you do. But now you have one less vice to worry about.’
‘You’re right,’ Slater said. ‘Ever since that night it’s like the weight of the world’s been lifted off my shoulders.’