by Jon F. Merz
"Hell, you could do it, seeing's how you have my access codes and all."
"I figured I'd play it straight and ask you to do it instead. Can you?"
"Of course. But the question is why?"
I told him. He whistled. "Guess she wasn't the little angel your girlfriend insisted she was, huh?"
"Hey, you guys had her painted as some doped up broad on the wrong side of a dealer."
He paused. "Yeah, that's true. I’ll see what I can do. Probably take some time, though."
"Fast as you can would be good."
"With you it’s always a rush."
"I can’t sit still on this. Darmov is going to expect some results."
"I just hope he hasn’t tapped your phone or you could be dead."
"He hasn’t been anywhere near my office. The only person who has is this Viktor guy who acts like his bodyguard."
"Think he’s capable?"
"Sure, they all are. You told me he hires them straight off of old special ops teams. I’m sure planting a transmitter wouldn’t be a big stretch for any of them."
"I’ll drop off a detector tomorrow morning on my way to work. You know how to work it?"
"I’m sure I can figure it out."
I hung up and immediately called Vanessa.
"We need to talk."
"And more I hope."
"Be serious. This is important."
"All right, Jake. When?"
"Pick me up in Harvard Square tonight at about quarter to seven. I’ll be outside the Charles Hotel. You know it?"
"Yes, I’ll be there."
I disconnected and leaned back. Right then, I didn’t even want to go to this meeting with the adoption prospects. What I really wanted to know was why Melinda would have been trying to move in on a Russian mobster. She must have known he wouldn’t be scared off so easily. So what made her want to tempt fate and lose? Was she being backed by someone bigger than her? Obviously, it couldn't be Woolery Ð he wasn't smart enough.
That meant someone else.
I was hoping McCloskey would come through on the bank statements. I was hoping they'd help me make some sense out of all this mess.
Because right now, any sense would be more than I had already.
Chapter Nineteen
I hit Harvard Square by 5:45 and made it to Mr. Lee’s five minutes later feeling just a slight ache in my arms from pushing it a little. A man sat in the closest booth to the door and I smiled at him as I strolled in.
"Mr. Thomson?"
He leapt to his feet. "Mr. Thunder?"
"Yes, please sit down, it’s okay." I nodded at the counter. "You order anything?"
"A cup of coffee."
I caught the eye of the Filipina woman and asked for a turkey club with no tomatoes and extra mayonnaise. I maneuvered as close as possible to the booth and looked at Ned Thomson.
He broke the silence. "You mentioned you could help my wife and I."
I nodded. "You want children pretty badly?"
"Absolutely. We’ve been on a waiting list for three years now with no hope yet."
"What’s taking so long?"
"I don’t know. Bureaucracy? There's so much red tape, it's insane. All we do is wait, wait, wait. I see posters all over town saying Russian, Guatemalan, and Chinese kids are all available, but for some reason, we’re not being selected."
"Any reason why the adoption agencies wouldn’t approve you?"
"Not that I know of. We went through a pretty exhaustive Q&A with them."
"What about run-ins with the police?"
He shrugged. "Some speeding tickets. Nothing serious."
"No chainsaw murders?" I smiled to let him know I was kidding.
He grinned. "No." He folded his hands. "Honestly, I thought it wouldn’t be so difficult. Especially considering my wife and I are, well-"
"-rich."
"Exactly. I’m not ashamed of it. After all, we’ll be better able to provide a good home and life for the child. Makes sense, doesn’t it?"
"Sure it does."
"You see our predicament?"
"All too well. So the adoption agencies you’ve worked with so far couldn’t give you a reason why you’re being stonewalled, so to speak?"
"Just that bringing the children into the country right now was tougher than it has been. Something to do with new regulations governing adoption."
I nodded. Waiting was always a tough thing for me. I'm not exactly a patient guy. "Are there any particular characteristics you want for the child?"
"Happy and healthy. That's the most important thing"
I smiled again. "Can do. But seriously, do you have any preference for race or gender?"
"Well," he glanced around, "if you don't mind me asking - what do you have?"
"The right money will buy you pretty much anything you want."
"Is that so?"
"Absolutely. I represent an organization that can deliver exactly the child you want with little or no hassle."
"But it's illegal."
It wasn't so much a question. I didn't think Thompson had any doubts it was illegal considering we were meeting in a small sandwich shop instead of a plush office. I smiled.
"Will that be a problem for you?"
He looked down. "My wife and I have discussed it." He sighed. "I never even shoplifted a stick of chewing gum before, you know? Never been in trouble with the law. Never even driven after a few beers. Worst I've ever done was tick up a few notches over the speed limit. IÉweÉwe're good people." He shook his head. "But we just want a child so badlyÉI don't know what to do anymore."
I didn't say anything. He was working his way through it and I gave him the moment.
It didn't take long. He looked back up after about a minute. "No. It won't be a problem."
Someone I knew once told me that honest people will be honest no matter what. That in order for them to break the law, there must something inside of them that is criminally-inclined. I don't buy that bullshit for an instance. There are plenty of laws in this country that are warped and archaic and simply shouldn't be on the books. Just because people ignore those dumb laws doesn't make them criminals, at least in my eyes. And keeping two good people from a child they badly want didn't seem right, either.
I thought it was more than possible that Thompson and his wife could be the two best people in the world and still break the law this one time without them looking like the Manson family.
"There's just one thing," said Thompson."
"Yes?"
"How do you skirt the problems of people asking questions when we suddenly have a child?"
"To friends and neighbors, it will just look like your adoption finally came through. To anyone outside that immediate circle, you can tell them whatever you want. Tell people you haven't seen in years that your wife finally got pregnant. It doesn’t really matter. When the child is registered with a social security number, it will be as good as yours."
"Can you provide paper work saying your organization granted us adoption rights or something like that?"
"Possibly." It was a good question. "I’ll have to check with my boss on that issue. I’m sure it wouldn’t be a problem. We can set up a dummy company outside U.S. territorial laws. Should make things easier. There might be an additional charge for that, however."
"No matter." Thomson’s coffee arrived and he drank it black with five packets of sugar.
"So, the only thing is to discuss a price."
He nodded. "What are we talking?"
"What do you want?"
"Let’s say a Caucasian boy with blue eyes."
"Probably 75 grand including dummy papers."
"That's pretty steep."
I smiled as my sandwich arrived. "But you really can’t put a price on happiness, can you?"
He nodded. "Apparently, you already have."
"It’s your choice. You just told me extra cost wouldn't be a problem. I assume when I called you earlier you thought about what the
expense might be."
"Yes. I did." He chuckled. "Funny thing is, when I sit here and think about it, we’ve probably spent close to that sum already trying to get ourselves a little bundle of joy. And it’s been for nothing."
"Not exactly nothing," I said.
"How do you figure that?"
"If you hadn’t tried to adopt, I wouldn’t have found out about you and your wife. And you’d still be childless."
"Fate, that what you’re saying?"
"Fate, Kismet, karma, whatever. All I know is we can deliver you a bright bouncing healthy baby boy probably as soon as two weeks. And all you have to do is deliver to us seventy-five thousand."
"I don’t imagine you take checks?"
"No. Talk it over with your wife. I’ll call you tomorrow and see how you made out. If everything looks okay, we’ll discuss the exact payment procedures and delivery timetable."
Thomson finished his coffee. "Thank you. I hope you don’t misinterpret my cynicism. The whole process has left my wife and I drained to the core. To finally have a ready solution seems a little bit like a dream." He stood up and shook my hand. "I’ll look forward to your call tomorrow."
I watched him go. Thompson seemed like a good guy. He'd obviously worked hard to get to where he was. He and his wife wanted kids. I felt pretty confident that Thompson would make a good father.
I thought about my old friend. I thought about how many people really want a child they can truly love and call their own. I thought about how many can't have any.
And suddenly I didn’t feel much like chomping into the sandwich sitting in front of me.
*** *** ***
Vanessa’s Mercedes sat idling by the time I rolled up. I worked myself into the front seat and she took care of my chair again. She jumped back in, smiled at me, and gave me a quick peck on the lips.
"Home?"
"Just start driving."
She frowned but pulled out into the flow of traffic. "Is everything okay, Jake?"
"Not exactly."
"Tell me, please. I can't stand not knowing."
"Your sister wasn’t an innocent victim trying to do right by persuading Darmov to stop kidnapping babies."
"What does that mean?"
We stopped at the intersection of Memorial Drive and North Beacon Street, one of the most dangerous intersections around Boston. I waited until she’d turned left onto Memorial Drive and was headed toward the Boston University Bridge before continuing.
"It means, quite simply, that your sister was trying to muscle in on Darmov’s business."
"You can’t be serious."
"I’m very serious. She wanted a cut of his business and was apparently planning on trying some kidnapping of her own."
"Who told you this?"
"Darmov."
She stared at me. "And you believed him?"
"I’ve got no reason not to. What would he gain by lying to me? The man has already admitted to killing your sister and Don Woolery. What would it matter to him as to the why of the situation? What’s done is done. As far as I’m concerned, what he told me is legit."
"It makes no sense, though. I know my sister. She wouldn’t-"
"But she was outside of the loop. She left the family fold. Isn't that what you told me?"
"Well, yes, but Ð "
"Who knew what she was capable of anymore?"
Vanessa managed to keep the car in its lane as we headed down the road. "It still makes no sense. Melinda couldn’t have done that alone. Was this Don Woolery character helping her?"
"Don’t know. It’s a little too late to ask him now."
"He must have been. He must have pushed her to do it knowing she’d get killed."
"Well, that’s what I’m still trying to figure out. I don’t know what or who could have made your sister risk her life trying to muscle out a big-time mobster like Darmov. That’s not the action of a very sane person."
"Certainly not Melinda. She wouldn't have been that foolish."
"And you said she wasn’t into drugs so that rules out narcotic bravado."
"I hope she wasn’t into drugs," said Vanessa. "Sometimes, I wasn’t sure she was being honest with me."
I frowned. "So maybe it’s not so hard to believe after all now?"
"I-I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem possible on so many levels, but then again, I think I have to confront the idea that she might have."
"Yeah," I said. "Life’s a real bitch sometimes, ain’t she?"
"Yes. Yes, she is."
Ahead of us, Boston’s skyline twinkled against the fading daylight backdrop. I looked at Vanessa and suddenly wondered if there were any other bombshells waiting to be dropped on me.
Chapter Twenty
The phone rang the next morning just as I was giving considerable thought to sleeping most of the day away. Vanessa was already long gone. I stretched and reached over to grab the receiver.
"Yeah?"
"Wake up you lazy cuss."
McCloskey. "What’s up?"
"We need to talk. That’s what."
"So talk."
"Not on the phone. It’s almost lunchtime. Feel like a slice?"
"Okay, okay. Let me grab a shower and I’ll meet you there in about forty minutes."
"Hurry it up, sunshine. I don’t have all day."
I hung up and grabbed a combat shower, which involves rapidly scrubbing the areas of your body most likely to stink. Pits, balls, ass, and feet. It’s not pretty, but it is quick and can make you feel pretty good in a short span of time.
I rolled into Fred Scampi's restaurant with about three minutes to spare. McCloskey was already in the back munching his way through his second slice. I grabbed some slices of cheese and joined him.
"You look like hell," he said.
"Yeah, turns out sex with Vanessa isn’t all that great when she knows her sister wasn’t what she thought she was."
"Gee, what a surprise."
"So, what’s up?"
"Spoke to Lisa last night."
"And?"
"It’s a go."
"She okay with it? I don’t want to mess your marriage up."
"You’re not. Actually, she’s kind of excited about it. Says it might give her a taste of what I’m off doing all the time."
"Well, you’re not exactly out posing as an adoption wanna-be."
"Yeah, but you know what I mean."
"As long as she’s game, that’s good news."
"How’s it going otherwise?"
"I met with some rich dude last night in Harvard Square and he seemed very warm to the idea of hooking up with a kid using Darmov."
"That will put you in the plus column with Darmov, then. Along with us, it’s turning into a banner week for you."
"Yeah, but it was kind of sad, too."
"Why’s that?"
"This guy I met last night, you know, he and his wife want nothing more than a health baby they can lavish affection on. I’m misleading this guy and it doesn’t feel good."
"Jake Thunder gets a conscience?" McCloskey put his slice down and wiped some grease from his chin. "Amazing."
"See, I’m not always so one-dimensional."
"There might be hope for you, yet. For ten years I’ve been thinking the only things you cared about were broads and booze."
"Yeah, well, I’ve got other interests, too."
"I can see that."
I bit into the cheese slices, chewed, and swallowed a pulpy chunk. "I’ll call Darmov this afternoon and let him know you’re in. We’ll arrange a good time to do the meet and greet."
"Can you arrange the initial so that’s all it is? We can do another meeting for the swap of baby and cash, then we can grab him."
"You don’t want to do it all at once?"
He shook his head. "No way. Not with Lisa there. She’s geared for the first meeting and that’s it. I won’t risk her safety. Besides, I’ll need some evidence to go to the higher ups with."
"You aren’t goin
g to get him confessing to murders when he meets you."
"That’s okay. If we can get tape of him acknowledging the baby scheme, it’ll be enough to haul him in on those charges. Then we can set about collecting evidence for the murders."
"Okay, you’re the professional."
"Something bothering you?"
"Why?"
"You’re too quiet. You haven’t insulted me. You’re letting me take control. You know, basically all the things you wouldn’t normally be doing."
"This whole thing seems too easy."
"How so?"
"Darmov doesn’t seem to be stupid enough to let me into his organization. He’s got to have doubts, despite possibly being fooled by whatever you planted in my file. He didn’t get to where he is now by being gullible. At the same time, I’m wondering how Melinda Patterson got so wrapped up in this mess. What would have made her risk her life like that trying to confront someone like Darmov. It doesn’t make sense."
McCloskey frowned. "When you put it like that, I guess it doesn’t. Take it from me, though: a lot of things people do don't make any kind of sense. But they do Ôem anyway." He got up and patted me on the shoulder. "Think of it this way: at least you’re being paid to find out, right?"
"That’s a damned small consolation."
McCloskey grinned. "What about the extra benefits of banging your client? That’s gotta count for something."
"All it does," I said, "is make the issue more confusing."
McCloskey started toward the door, stopped and came back. "By the way," he reached into his suit coat and pulled a small black box out of it with some wrapped up wires. "Here’s that detector I told you about. You might want to install it right away."
I looked down at the detector and frowned.
*** *** ***
I placed a call to Darmov when I got back to the office and let him know about McCloskey and Lisa. He wanted exact details, so I told him McCloskey was an insurance salesman and a friend of my family.
"I didn’t know you had family, Jake."
"I don’t have much," I said. "But here and there I’ve got some scattered cousins, a few uncles."
"So where does this couple live?"
"I told you they weren’t local."