A Vicious Balance: A Mystery Thriller

by Jolyon Hallows

  “Galina? Do you think he’s the only one who wants you dead? I’d say you’ve got a lot more to worry about than just one psychopath.”

  “Maybe, but tell me. Is going after us typical of this kind of group?”

  Meyer frowned. “Typical? No, it isn’t. This attack on you guys is too surgical, too focused. Terrorist groups usually don’t care who they kill. The whole idea of terror is that anyone can be a target. The only people they go after specifically are political or military leaders.”

  “That tells me this isn’t an official action. I suspect that somehow we’ve riled Galina, and he’s made it personal and decided to come after us. It could even be that the leadership of this group doesn’t even know what he’s doing. Isn’t it possible he’s the main threat? Perhaps the only threat?”

  Meyer thought for a minute. “Two things suggest you’re right. First, you and your friend aren’t public figures, so targeting you is against everything they normally do. For Ruth Janner to spend all that time working with you is unprecedented unless they were after something specific. Second, no terrorist group wants to draw attention to itself until it’s launched an attack. It would never allow a bomb or automatic weapons to be used on an information mission, so these attempts on your lives are way out of character. Yes, I tend to agree with you that this is probably a field decision. Something the leader decided had to be done to stop you.”

  “So our fight is with Tony Galina and not this Hammer of Vengeance.”

  Meyer sighed. “You could be right, but would you be willing to bet your life on it? We don’t know enough about this group to conclude anything. I’ve had the police issue an alert and send Tony Galina’s photo and particulars to the local police detachments, and I’m having my own people investigate. Other than that, there’s not much we can do except keep you guys under wraps for your protection. Hell, until a day ago, we weren’t even aware that the Hammer was operating here.”

  Travathan said, “You’re welcome. But for now, I’m not asking for your protection. Cowering in a safe house waiting for some killer to show up is not my first choice for survival. So for now, I’ll avail myself of this hospitality, get a good night’s sleep, and tomorrow, I will absolve you of any responsibility for my safety.”

  “I can’t let you just walk out of here.”

  “Nor can you keep me against my will. Look, I appreciate your concern, but I’d rather take care of my own security than have to rely on anyone else. However, I would be in your debt if you’d look after Max. He’s taking this betrayal from Janner hard. Can you watch him at least until he’s recovered?”

  Meyer sighed. “Of course, and you’re right. I don’t have the authority to hold you, but this guy is dangerous.”

  Kagan sat up, pointed at Travathan, and said, “So is he. And if you think I’m going to sit around here being nursemaided, you don’t know me very well.”

  “Max. Welcome back.”

  Travathan handed a cup of coffee to Kagan who said, “I should have realized something was wrong. She was too eager.”

  “This was her first case. Eagerness is normal.”

  “It was the first case she was ever really involved in. She became one of our volunteers a few years ago, but whenever I asked her to participate in one of our investigations, she was always too busy to do more than a few minor errands. But when I sent out the information to our volunteers about this case, she was one of the first to call. I didn’t figure she’d get involved any more than she had before. Then all of a sudden, she wanted to be part of a case that was dangerous. It wasn’t like her. I should have guessed.”

  Travathan said, “Don’t beat yourself up. People change their minds all the time.”

  “I’m not beating myself up. I just think I should have been more aware.”

  “I’d call that beating yourself up.”

  Kagan said, “So what do we do now?”

  “We start by listing what we don’t know.”

  “That’s easy. Gory, but easy. We don’t know what this letter drop was all about, we don’t know why the Hammer was so anxious to crack it, and we don’t know why people are out to kill us. Other than that, I’d say we’ve figured everything else out.”

  Travathan nodded. “To me, the most important unknown is the second one. Why was this organization so desperate to break this drop?”

  Kagan shook his head. “You’re assuming that’s what they were trying to do. Maybe it was just a simple intelligence-gathering exercise that got out of hand.”

  “No, Mr. Kagan,” Meyer said. “Think about it. They used at least two sleepers to crack this drop: Sherry Galina and the man who provided Tony Galina with an alibi. And maybe Tony Galina himself. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find and keep reliable sleepers?”

  “Can’t say I’ve thought about it.”

  “I have. First, you need people who are angry at their culture. Not just their government or the party in charge, but their whole culture. Angry enough to discard their entire personal histories.”

  “Hey, just check out any university campus. There’re enough wackos there to staff an entire city of sleepers.”

  “Wrong. You’re confusing youthful exuberance and limit-testing with a festering hatred. These people aren’t your typical weekend placard-bearers complete with bag lunches chanting in front of the embassy of the week. They’re not trying to feel good by shouting slogans at some minimum-wage security guard. They don’t want to feel good. They loathe everything our culture stands for. Its wealth, its freedom of choice, its message of equality. They don’t want any of this. They’re driven by jealousy, rage, and a desire to destroy what they see as our damned-to-hell behaviors.”

  “You’re saying these people are rare?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. And because they’re so rare, finding them is a problem for any terrorist organization. But finding them is just the start. Now you have to recruit them, to twist them into committing to something, to manipulate them into dedicating themselves for the first time in their lives.”

  “Why? It seems to me if these types are that destructive, you just need to turn them loose.”

  “To do what? Riot? No. If you want to develop a coherent force, you have to control them. Train them. You have to find people whose personal histories reflect that life is pointless and morals are irrelevant, then you have to impose your own morality on them, and you have to give them discipline; you have to make them work. You have to get them competent in information-gathering, espionage, surveillance, all the while making sure their anger continues to fester. Finally, you implant them. But you can’t just drop them off at an airport or railway station, you have to provide them with documentation and a past and a job so you can keep tabs on them.”

  “You have to get them to act as if they’re productive members of the society they hate? That sounds tricky.”

  “Tricky? That’s an understatement. These people have to retain their hatred of the culture all the time living and working in it. They have to be able to resist being seduced by it and at the same time, hide their true feelings while they await their call to action.”

  “And you said they don’t look like terrorists or even visible minorities.”

  “Right again. The best sleepers were born here. They look and sound like you and me. They can fit in to any normal environment without being noticed or suspected. Because such people are hard to find, they’re extremely valuable. You only want to risk exposing them when the goal is critical. You use them sparingly.”

  Travathan said, “I see your point. What was so important about this dead letter drop that they would risk deploying three such sleepers?”

  There was silence in the room. Kagan said, “Whatever they bought from this supplier, their warranty had expired?”

  Travathan said, “For that, you get another drink.”

  29

  The following morning, after they had demolished a platter of fried eggs and bacon and washed it down with or
ange juice and coffee, Doris MacIlhenny arrived.

  “Well, detective, did you catch him yet?” Kagan asked.

  “Very funny.”

  “Hey, you guys have had eight hours and from the look of you, you didn’t spend it sleeping.”

  “One day, I’m going to arrange it so I need protection. I could use some time just pigging out and making wisecracks.” MacIlhenny sighed and turned to Travathan. “Okay. Are you still determined to go out on your own?”

  “Yeah. The terrorists may kill me, but if I stay here, for sure the cholesterol will.”

  “All right. What are your plans?”

  Travathan said, “It’s clear this letter drop was for terrorist organizations to order something from an operation that was run by Jake Handley’s father, probably weapons although that’s just a guess. I understand he was killed in a car accident.”

  “Yes. Ed and Marie Handley. They were broadsided by a pickup truck coming home late from dinner at a friend’s house.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “The day after Sherry Galina was killed.”

  “What? Wait a minute. That’s the same day Ron Mahmoud and Oliver Raynor were killed. You didn’t think that was suspicious?”

  MacIlhenny said, “Why would we? There was no connection between the Handleys and the murder victims, and the Handleys were killed in a motor vehicle accident. The circumstances weren’t suspicious. The truck that hit them had been stolen, and the driver was killed. There was an open bottle of vodka in the pickup and liquor on the seat and the floor. As far as we were concerned, this was just one more fatal mix of joyriding, booze, and bad judgment. We didn’t make the connection with Jake Handley because we hadn’t yet identified him as someone of interest in the Galina murder.”

  “After you got Jake Handley’s confession for the murder, did you check to see if there was any connection between the accident and the conviction?”

  “I got the accident report as a matter of routine once we’d nailed the kid, but we were swamped with the other homicides, so I didn’t have time for anything but a quick scan. And to me, this was nothing but a nasty accident, which means there was no connection to the Galina murder. At the time, it seemed to be just a coincidence.”

  “At the time? Do you still believe that?”

  MacIlhenny handed over a file folder. “I’m no longer sure. After what’s happened, I figured you’d want to know more about the Handleys, so I pulled the file before I came here.”

  Kagan said, “Detective, being proactive. I’m impressed.”

  “Hold your applause. There’s an anomaly in the report I wish someone had brought to my attention at the time. The driver of the truck had a blood alcohol level of zero. The medical examiner noted it in his report, but he never highlighted it.”

  “His blood alcohol was zero? But you said there was booze in the truck.”

  “And soaked into the driver’s shirt. But none in his bloodstream. He never drank a drop.”

  “So this was no accident.”

  She sighed. “I know how this looks, but I still don’t see how it could be anything but. The Handleys were driving along Gorman Avenue at around midnight when a speeding pickup ran the light at Wilson. It slammed into their car, killing both of them instantly.”

  “And you don’t think it was deliberate?”

  “How could it have been? A car going at a normal speed takes less than a second to cross an average two-lane intersection. Anybody trying to hit the car would have to be precise. And they couldn’t accelerate from a red light because they wouldn’t be going fast enough when they hit the other car, so they would have to speed into the intersection at that exact instant. I don’t see how it could be done with any reliability.”

  Travathan scanned the report and said, “The report mentions a witness, a Bob Wooley. Why don’t we start with him?”

  “I read that. It’s a dead end. All Wooley could do was exclaim about how the pickup almost killed him.”

  Travathan said, “According to this, Wooley claimed if it hadn’t been for the idiot, the pickup would probably have killed him. Who’s the idiot?”

  MacIlhenny frowned and reached for the folder. “I assumed the idiot was the driver of the pickup, but now that you point it out, that doesn’t make sense.” She frowned at the report. “Damn, the witness statements are in a separate folder.” She handed the file back to Travathan. “Let me call Anderson.”

  “Anderson?”

  “Constable Anderson was the first traffic cop at the site.”

  Kagan sighed. “Gord, if you’re right, we can add two more murders to the list we already have.”

  “I know I’m right. Whatever the cops thought, there’s no way this is a coincidence.”

  Kagan frowned. “This is way over my head. I don’t know about you, but I’m not used to terrorists and conspiracies and murder. I think I’m pretty capable, but I don’t mind admitting that right now, I’m scared.”

  “You’re not alone.”

  “You, too? You sure don’t show it.”

  Travathan sighed. “Max, when have I ever showed how I feel about anything?”

  “That’s not what I mean. You’ve said you’re going to just walk out of here. That tells me you don’t think there’s a risk.”

  “Of course there’s a risk. I don’t know how much because I don’t know what’s going on with this terrorist group, but any time people are being killed, I’d say getting involved is risky.”

  “Yeah, these guys are unpredictable.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. We just don’t know enough about them to make any predictions.”

  Kagan said, “Gord, I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t just wander out of here into danger without a plan. I’d like to know what it is.”

  “I don’t have a plan as much as a strategy. Look, you said you’re capable. So am I. But even together, we’re no match for these terrorists. On the other hand, Meyer and his team are. They’re the ones I want to work with.”

  “You surprise me. Here I thought you were about to go out on your own. A superhero facing down an army of terrorists single-handedly, spurning the help of the authorities.”

  “That’s what I want Meyer to think. All of this has caught him by surprise. If he thought he could hide us away in some safe house while he ponders what to do next, where’s the urgency in that? This way, he doesn’t have that option. He’ll have to figure out something fast. I want to be in on that.”

  “So this ‘I’m not going down without a fight’ is just a strategy?”

  “What do you mean, just a strategy? It’s a damn good one.”

  MacIlhenny disconnected her call and turned back to them. “Anderson recalled the accident. He was a rookie cop. You always remember your first upchuck. The witness, Wooley, said he was following the Handleys along Gorman Avenue when a car pulled away from the curb right in front of them. Ed Handley had to hit his brakes to avoid running into the guy. The car slowed just before it reached Wilson. Wooley said he couldn’t pull around the car because Gorman is only two lanes. He said the light turned green just before they reached the intersection, this car eased into it then sped off just as the pickup arrived.”

  “There was another car? In front of the Handleys?”

  MacIlhenny nodded. “Wooley said that if this other guy, the idiot, hadn’t slowed before they reached the intersection, they’d have been further into it, and the truck would have hit him instead of the Handleys.”

  Travathan said, “So we have a two-man operation. One man, driving a sedan, pulls in front of Ed Handley’s car and radios his partner, who’s waiting in the pickup. Sedan guy has to drive in a manner that will get him to the intersection just as the light turns green, which accounts for his erratic behavior. He slows, enters the intersection, sees the truck charging down on him, and hits the gas. The truck has plenty of time to aim, and it plows into the next car, the Handleys. My guess is that just before the collision, the driver yelled the same thi
ng Ruth Janner yelled when she swallowed the poison. Max, we have two more names to add to our list of murder victims.” Travathan turned to MacIlhenny and said, “Detective, we need a place to do some thinking. Can we stay here for a day or two?”

  “Okay, but it comes with a price. Anything you come up with you share with me, and when you decide to leave, you tell me where you’re going and what you plan to do.”

  Kagan said, “Never argue with the guy who’s paying the rent.” Travathan was frowning. “Something bothering you? I mean other than almost getting killed?”

  Travathan sighed. “Max, I have a bad feeling about this. I can’t put my finger on it, but I’m afraid we haven’t seen the worst.”

  30

  Early evening, the setting sun brushing the tops of the hills across the inlet from the Sanderson house. A van pulled up and parked on the street. A man stepped out. Tall, clean-shaven, athletic, his coveralls signifying just another anonymous workman carrying a duffle bag across the road to the house. In this neighborhood, with homes spread apart, their privacy guaranteed by stands of centuries-old cedars and Douglas firs, the man had little fear of being seen.

  He walked around the house looking for a point of access. No doubt it had an alarm system. That didn’t bother him. He just had to figure out the type of alarm.

  Around the rear of the house, opposite the side that was nestled close to the rock of the hillside that rose behind it, he found a basement window. A foot high and three feet wide. Near the bottom, opposite the hinge, he could see an alarm contact attached to the window frame. It would be touching its mate attached to the wall. Open the window and the alarm would sound. Or, more likely, a signal to a monitoring system would alert security. He shone a flashlight through the window into the basement, unfinished, holding a clutter of boxes and along one wall, a stack of firewood.

  From his duffle bag, he removed a glass cutter and a glazier’s suction cup. He secured the cup against the window and used the glass cutter to etch a circle around it. He gave a sharp jerk on the suction cup. The circle of glass snapped out. The window frame remained in place, its alarm contacts undisturbed.