Bad Faith

by Robert K. Tanenbaum

  Before Marlene could answer, her cell phone buzzed and indicated she had a text message from a Memphis area code. “Hold on a second,” she said. “Maybe this is Monique.”

  Instead the text read: “Will talk. Meet me at the club at 6. Sarah.”

  Marlene told the detective about the text. “I’ll never make it,” she said. “I have to pick up my guys.”

  “Maybe I should meet Sarah,” Winkler suggested. “We could all get together after that at headquarters.”

  Marlene thought about it. “No. She’s expecting me,” she decided. “A cop shows up instead and she may lawyer up. She’s not the big fish here; LaFontaine, or Westlund, or whatever his real name is, he’s the big one we don’t want to get away. Guma and Fulton will just have to cool their heels.”

  “Tell you what,” Winkler said. “I’ll go roust Holstein and then pick up your guys myself. We can get a statement from Aronberg and hopefully Monique Hale will show up by then. Maybe you can get Sister Sarah to give up the whole shebang.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Marlene replied. “I’ll stay in contact.”

  23

  NED BLANCHETT PULLED LUCY CLOSER AS THEY WALKED with arms around each other’s waists. “I still don’t think this is a good idea,” he said, looking around at the dark shadows beneath the trees of Central Park.

  “Don’t worry, baby, we’re being watched,” Lucy replied. She, too, had been studying the shadows that took over the areas between the lampposts and had seen the figures flitting from tree to rock to tree.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Blanchett groused.

  “What? I thought my knight in shining armor wasn’t afraid of anything,” Lucy said, stopping to rise up on her tiptoes to kiss her fiancé.

  “Um, meeting at night in a park with a serial killer who commands an army of street people and lives underground will pretty much do it,” Blanchett argued. “Especially when I got my girl to watch out for, too.”

  “Your girl is probably the safest person in this park tonight,” Lucy said.

  “So you don’t have a problem with the fact that your friend has murdered more people than Ted Bundy?”

  Lucy stopped and frowned. “I don’t mean to make light of David’s actions,” she said. “But it’s complicated. The people he’s killed—”

  “Yeah, I know, all bad men who deserved it,” Blanchett said.

  “What about the fact that we—meaning our agency—sometimes kill people without the benefit of a trial?” Lucy retorted. “Does it make it okay just because we get a pass from the government?”

  “They’re enemy combatants,” Blanchett said.

  “Some have been U.S. citizens,” Lucy replied before sighing. “I don’t want to get into this argument and it’s not really relevant to how I see David Grale. He also saved me when I was being tortured and sexually assaulted by a man who had murdered and raped women and children for pleasure.”

  “And for that I will be forever grateful,” Blanchett said. “But I can’t condone one man being judge, jury, and executioner.”

  “I understand, sweetheart,” Lucy said softly, patting him on the cheek before turning to continue their stroll. “But he asked to speak to me, and so I’m going to listen.”

  They walked on without talking for several more minutes until they’d passed the Loeb Boathouse in the heart of the park. Lucy pointed ahead. “There’s our man. Hmmm, I didn’t know David had a dog.”

  Blanchett squinted at the dark figures who had materialized out of the surrounding shadows and waited beneath a lamppost: a tall man with a dog on a leash and two more large men behind them. But as they drew closer, he suddenly whispered, “I don’t think that’s a dog.”

  The young couple came to a halt when they were ten feet away from the others. “Oh God, David, now what?” Lucy asked, her hand covering her mouth.

  David Grale smiled. “Good evening, Lucy. I believe you’ve met my pet,” he said, yanking on a leash he had attached to the collar of the man at his feet. “Come here, dog, show your face.”

  A man crouching next to him on all fours snarled and looked up at Lucy. Even in the dim light she thought she saw a moment of recognition on the creature’s face, but then it was gone, replaced by a look of insane rage. He snarled at her like a junkyard mongrel and then cringed as if he expected to be beat.

  “Kane!” Lucy cried out as she looked down at the ravaged face of the man. She hated him, and yet felt pity and tried to move toward him. When Blanchett stepped forward to follow her, the two men with Grale jumped forward to intercept the pair.

  “That’s far enough, Lucy,” Grale warned her.

  “This is wrong,” she replied.

  “Wrong? It is merely the beginning of the eternal torment he will be suffering for his crimes,” Grale said, his dark eyes seeming to be on the edge of insanity as well.

  “He’s a human being,” Lucy argued.

  “He’s a demon in a human body,” Grale responded. Then, as if they’d been discussing the weather, he turned to Blanchett and held out his hand. “And this must be your fiancé. You’re a lucky man.”

  Blanchett ignored the proffered hand. “I’m aware of that,” he said. “But Lucy’s right. No man—and he is a man—deserves to be treated so cruelly. In fact, no dog deserves such a fate either.”

  “David, please, Kane could be very useful to our agency,” Lucy pleaded. “He could be the key to destroying the Sons of Man once and for all. Turn him over to us.”

  Grale dropped his hand and looked down at Kane, who sat on his haunches staring at the ground and gibbering to himself. “That might have been an option if he was capable of anything but what you see now,” he replied. “But he is quite insane. We all know he was a liar and deceiver even when he was capable of rational thought; now his mind is gone and nothing of use comes from him.”

  “He could be treated and then questioned,” Lucy said. “Let us lock him up and find out.”

  “Lock him up?” Grale said scathingly. “Your father, who I trust more than almost any other man, had him in custody and yet he escaped. And remember what Kane’s agents were willing to do in order to accomplish that … or have you forgotten the children and police officers who were murdered in cold blood? They will stop at nothing to free him again, and the Sons of Man have infiltrated everywhere, including the federal prison system.”

  “David, you are better than this …,” Lucy said.

  “Enough! I didn’t ask to meet with you to argue the fate of Andrew Kane. He is my dog and will remain so until his soul is sent back to his dark master.”

  Lucy’s face fell. “Then what is it you sent Warren for?” she asked angrily.

  Grale’s own face softened. “Well, I’d like to think you may have come just to see an old friend. It’s been a long time.”

  “I would have preferred to do it under different circumstances,” Lucy replied.

  “Undoubtedly,” Grale said, “but the circumstances are what they are.”

  “Then what?”

  “I wanted to let you know, so that you can pass it on to whoever needs it, that Nadya Malovo is in some way mixed up in a plot planned for Halloween in the Village involving your dad and family,” Grale said.

  When Lucy didn’t reply, he nodded and smiled slightly. “I see that this information is not entirely new to you.”

  “Is that it?”

  “No,” Grale said. “Maybe you don’t know that whatever the plot involves, Malovo arranged it with Boris Kazanov. She claims that she was trying to call it off, though I doubt it was for any noble reason.”

  “Maybe she thought it would mess up her deal,” Blanchett suggested.

  “So that was you on the boardwalk in Brighton Beach,” Lucy interjected. “I should have known. The papers were saying it was a gangland killing, but the arrows and knife work … who else but David Grale and company.”

  Grale started to speak but was interrupted by one of his bodyguards’ sudden coughing fit. His face changed
from grim satisfaction to one of compassion as he reached out and patted his man on the back. “Are you all right, Brother Harvey?” he inquired.

  Harvey continued to gasp for breath before nodding. “I’ll be okay,” he said.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Lucy commented.

  “He and I both share a common affliction with Myco-bacterium tuberculosis,” Grale answered. “We seem to be in a race to see who will meet our Maker first.”

  “You need to go to a hospital,” Lucy said. “Both of you.”

  Grale shook his head. “It appears to be a particularly virulent strain and resistant to all antibiotics,” he said. “It’s all right. Harvey actually looks forward to shuffling off this mortal coil. Rather than feeling pity for my dog here though, you might save it for this good man instead. His wife and child were raped and murdered eight years ago by an evil man who’d just been let out of prison after serving only four years for a similar crime, the result of your justice system’s plea bargaining. Unable to cope, he turned to alcohol and lived on the streets, which is where we met. He hasn’t had a drop in four years, and you want to know what cured him? I’ll give you a hint: it wasn’t Alcoholics Anonymous or rehab. It was justice, true justice.”

  “True justice?” Lucy asked.

  “Yes,” Harvey answered. “Father David helped me hunt down the bastard who butchered my family when the parole board let him go after eight years. You want to know what he was doing? He was shacking up with a thirteen-year-old girl he had so drugged up that she couldn’t stand up to leave after I slit his throat.”

  “But is that justice or revenge?” Lucy questioned.

  “Both,” Grale said. “Justice and a large dose of revenge. But at the end of the day, one more sexual predator who will never harm a woman or child again. But we digress. I’ve let you know what I’ve learned about Malovo.”

  “I’ll pass on the information about the Kazanov connection,” Lucy said. “Thank you for that.”

  For a moment, a sad look crossed Grale’s face. “Whatever our differences in how we deal with evil men, we are all on the side of good,” he said. He smiled, though the look remained. “So, I hear the two of you are getting married.”

  “Next spring,” Lucy said, looking up at Blanchett.

  “I’m happy for you,” Grale said. “I still remember the gangly teenager who helped me feed the homeless at the shelter.”

  For a moment, Lucy forgot about the dangers and the leashed human being at Grale’s feet and laughed. “I had such a crush on you,” she said. “Before you … before …”

  “Before it became apparent that I was a serial killer,” Grale said, bemused. “I suppose that would put a damper on a young girl’s ardor. But it’s time for us to return to our home sweet home.”

  “David, let us take Kane,” Lucy pleaded again. “Escort us to the police station. He won’t be going anywhere.”

  “Sorry, Lucy, the answer is still no,” Grale replied, tugging slightly on the leash. “This dog belongs with his master, and he’s of no use to you.” He pulled on the leash a little harder. “Come dog, heel.”

  Kane whimpered and looked one last time at Lucy before his lip curled and he obediently turned to follow his master back into the shadows, leaving Lucy and Ned alone.

  “So, you had a crush on David Grale?” Blanchett said.

  “Yes, when I was a girl,” Lucy said, then laughed. “Apparently I have questionable taste in men.”

  “Until me, you mean,” Blanchett said, giving her a hug and a kiss. “I saved you from yourself.”

  “Lucky me,” Lucy replied and kissed him back.

  As the young couple walked back the way they had come, another dark figure pressed himself back into the shadows of the Loeb Boathouse where he’d been watching the meeting from afar. He licked his thin lips and smiled at the thought of the riches that would be coming his way and the sweetness of revenge.

  24

  MARLENE APPROACHED THE TURN FOR THE GENTLEMAN’S club but then spotted the BMW with SARAH imprinted on the license plate beneath a streetlight up ahead. She continued past the parking lot and drove up alongside the car, rolling her window down. She was surprised to see not only Sarah but Monique Hale, in the passenger seat, her eyes wide with fright.

  “Can’t talk here,” Sarah said. “Follow me.”

  Before Marlene could respond, Sarah sped off. So she pulled out behind her car and called Winkler.

  “I don’t like it,” Winkler said. “Let her go and we’ll pick her up. I can get a patrol car there in five minutes or less.”

  “Let me see what’s going on first,” Marlene responded. “I don’t know why Monique is with her but if she’s in trouble, it’s my fault and I need to stay with her.”

  A familiar voice broke into the conversation. “Marlene, it’s Clay,” Fulton said. “I agree with Detective Winkler. I know you won’t stop, but you stay back, you hear me?”

  “I hear you, Clay,” Marlene replied. “Welcome to Memphis. I assume Mr. Guma is with you and Wink has filled you two in on what’s been happening.”

  “Yes on both counts,” Fulton replied. “What’s going on now?”

  “We’re turning off the highway and onto a two-lane road,” Marlene said. “And she’s speeding up.”

  For the next twenty minutes, as the sky grew darker, Marlene followed the BMW as it made a series of turns onto roads, many of them unmarked, that appeared to be leading farther out into the country. The clouds overhead, which had been threatening to rain all day, suddenly began to let loose.

  About the same time, the BMW slowed, while behind Marlene headlights appeared, which she soon identified as belonging to a truck. “Looks like they’ve got me penned in,” she told the men listening. “Wait a second, I’m getting a call. It’s a Memphis area code but I don’t recognize the number. I’ll get back to you in a second.” She pushed the button to switch to the new caller.

  “Throw your phone on the road where I can see it,” a man’s voice demanded.

  “What?”

  “Throw your phone out the window on the road now or we shoot the Hale bitch!” the man snarled into the phone.

  “How do I know you won’t shoot her, and then me, anyway?” she asked.

  “You don’t,” the man said. “But I’d prefer not to. We’re just going to tie you up and leave you out here for a spell so we can get away.”

  “Who’s ‘we’? Sarah, you, and LaFontaine?”

  “Never you mind; do as you’re told or I’ll be forced to shoot you both. Now chuck the phone where I can see it and then follow Sarah!”

  Marlene thought quickly. She grabbed the GPS unit from the dash. Hoping that in the semidark and from a car it would look enough like a cell phone, she tossed it out the window. Apparently it was good enough, as the BMW started to move again and the truck pulled up directly behind her and honked. She put the car into Drive and followed, placing her cell phone on the seat next to her. She pressed the Speakerphone button and then called Winkler. When the detective answered, she explained what was happening.

  “And, Clay, I have to say that your insistence on the family having cell phones with the locater application built in may just pay off,” she said, giving him the telephone number to call and password so he could ask the phone company to pinpoint her location.

  “Marlene, it’s still going to take us too long to get to you. Step on it and leave this guy behind,” Fulton said.

  “Can’t, Clay,” Marlene said. “I should have known that as soon as I talked to Sarah they’d go after Monique.”

  “Have you seen any road signs or other landmarks?” The voice was Winkler’s.

  “Nothing,” Marlene replied. “Wait … we’re going past what looks like an old service station. Definitely closed down and boarded up. The sign says AJ’s … and I can’t read the rest.”

  “AJ’s Gas and Oil,” Winkler said. “I know it. You’re near the Mississippi. We’re on the way. Ten minutes.”

&n
bsp; “Step on it, boys,” Marlene said. She reached down and felt inside her purse for the .380. Locating the little pistol, she tucked it into her pants and covered it with the blouse she was wearing.

  As they continued to drive, she described the surrounding area as best she could with the twilight giving way to the night. “We seem to be following the river now,” she said. “But it’s quite a ways below.”

  “You’re on a bluff above the river,” Winkler said. “I know where you’re at. We’ll be there in five.”

  “Can you make it sooner? We’re stopping.”

  Marlene was suddenly aware of the figure of a large man outside her window. He was pointing a large-caliber revolver at her. “Put your hands on the wheel!” he shouted.

  With no other choice, Marlene did as she was told, wondering how fast he could react if she went for the gun in her pants. Not fast enough, she thought.

  The man reached forward and opened her car door. “Get out,” he barked, keeping the gun pointed at her head. She did as she was told and he saw the cell phone on the seat. “What the fuck,” he snarled, and struck her on the side of her head with his gun, knocking her to the ground.

  Sarah walked up with Monique Hale, whose hands were tied in front of her. “You going to do her here?”

  “No, over at the cliff,” the man said. “She and the other one are going in the river. The water’s high with all this rain; the cops won’t find their bodies until New Orleans, if then.”

  Woozy, Marlene tried to think of something to save herself and Monique Hale. She pointed at the cell phone. “The cops are listening to everything,” she said. “And they’ll be here in a few minutes. Give yourself up before you take this too far.”

  Keeping his gun trained on her, the man reached inside and grabbed the phone. He looked at it. “There’s nobody on the line,” he said with a smile. “There ain’t nobody coming for you.”

  Marlene looked hard at the man in the glow of her car’s headlights. “And to think I wanted to thank you for saving my husband,” she said.