Sam stared at the small screen for several seconds. “I cannot be sure, Mr. Tony, but it could be Mr. Rache. He has a beard, so I cannot be sure. His eyes look the same, however.”
Dan smiled grimly. “Rache is German for revenge. I’ll bet it’s our boy. Like I said, too clever for his own good.”
Tony said, “Tell us about him, Sam.”
“He moved in perhaps two years ago. He is not in town much, I do not think. He seldom talks with me. Airport cars come to pick him up many times. He is a musician, I believe.”
“What does he play?”
“That I do not know. When he moved here he remodelled his apartment completely and builded a soundproof room so that he may practise.”
“I don’t remember that coming before the condo board.”
“When the materials were coming in, he most assured me he had permission. There have been no complaints.”
“Is he in town now?” Dan asked.
“I do believe so, but I cannot be certain.”
Dan nodded. “Do you have access to the security videos for Wednesday night?”
“Oh, yessir. We store everything. I can show you anything you want to see, right at my station in the lobby.”
“Next question: do any of the lobby cameras show your station?”
“There is one behind it that faces outwardly. It will show my head if I stand up.”
“Is there space behind your station where Tony and I can crouch while we look at your computer screen?”
“Oh, yessir. It is most spacious back there. No one coming through the lobby will be seeing you.”
Dan thought for a moment. “Here’s what we’ll do. Tony, you and I will enter the building as quickly as possible, get behind the doorman’s station, and stay crouched. The less time we’re on camera, the better. And you, Sam, will follow us in a minute later. Act just as you normally would.”
“Sam will do anything that you ask, sir.”
“Okay. Let’s get this show on the road. Sam, you saunter in after us.” Dan flashed a grin. “Just don’t make us wait too long.”
In the end, it went off beautifully. Tony and Dan barely had time to get behind the chest-high wooden doorman’s station when a taxi pulled up, disgorging one of Tony’s neighbours, a large elderly woman with a yappy little dog and several shopping bags. It took two trips for Sam to carry it all in, and, of course, she wanted him to help her get it upstairs.
When Sam finally sat down behind his station, Dan whispered, “All right, gentlemen, show time. Sam, can you cue up the video for us? We’re interested in seeing three nights ago from ten at night to maybe four in the morning. If our man indeed brought Marta down here, he would have done it in the dead hours.”
“You want all cameras, sir?”
“Yes, all cameras.”
“I am able to split up the screen and show you all cameras at once.”
“Sure. Do that.”
“I play with this all the time when I not have work to do, so I can be ready when the policemen come.”
Sam stabbed at the computer keyboard with two fingers. The monitor changed to twenty-five small squares, all of them filled with various views of the inside of the building and the basement parking area. Hitting a few more keys brought up a splash panel for choosing a date, time, and review speed.
He punched it in, then asked, “Please, sir, is this correct?”
Dan rose to his knees. “Yes and set the speed to 8X. Tony get up here. We need as many eyes as possible.”
Sam clicked on “Start” and the video began rolling.
“Sam, you watch the lobby monitor, Tony, take the elevators, and I’ll watch the parking garage. If anyone spots something, let us know.”
The time stamp read 12:37 a.m. when a large black car came down the garage ramp.
“Slow it to normal speed, Sam. This looks promising.”
An older man got out of the car, obviously not their quarry.
Two more smaller cars came in, both with couples getting out.
At 2:09, a black van rolled in.
Dan said, “Slow it down again, please.”
The van parked in a dark corner so they couldn’t see what was going on, but it was taking some time. Then a tall figure wearing a baseball cap under a pulled-up hoodie came into view, pushing a low flight case in front of him.
“Think Marta could fit in that?” Tony asked.
“It would be damned uncomfortable, but yes.”
From the camera inside the elevator, it seemed the case was fairly heavy from the way the man worked to muscle it inside. He never looked up at the camera but they saw he had a full beard.
“I believe that is Mr. Rache,” Sam said.
“What apartment does he have?”
“It is on the floor above yours, Mr. Tony, and it overlaps your floor space at one end.”
Dan shook his head and swore. “This just keeps getting better and better. He’s played us for chumps right from the beginning. All that broadcast equipment I found on the roof was a blind to throw us off. He could have put contact mics on his floor and heard everything in your apartment, the clever bastard. He’s been right above our heads the entire time.”
When the man reached out to press a floor button, Tony said, “Yup. That’s the floor above mine. Should we call the cops now?”
Dan never got a chance to answer. The chime sounded and the doors slid open on one of the elevators.
“It is Mr. Rache,” Sam whispered. “Good morning, sir,” he said loudly. “You are going out early today.”
There was no answer as the man exited. He waited several seconds for a break in traffic before crossing Front Street and disappearing through a side door of the south building of the St. Lawrence Market.
“What should we do?” Tony repeated.
“It doesn’t look like he’s leaving town. Sam, by any chance do you have keys to the apartments?”
“We do, sir. I will get his for you.” Sam unlocked a drawer in his desk and rummaged around in a rack of keys. “This is most odd. There doesn’t appear to be one for Mr. Rache’s apartment.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me,” Tony said.
“It’s not a big deal, Tony,” Dan answered. C’mon. He’s gone out. This is a golden opportunity. We have to grab it.”
“But the cops …”
“Marta is up there. We have to move now.” He started for the elevators. “Coming?”
Tony followed but stopped the elevator door from closing. “Sam, you have my mobile number?”
“Yes, Mr. Tony.”
“Call me when he comes back.”
“Sam will not fail you. You can count on me.”
On the ride up, Dan said, “We won’t have much time and we have no tools, so getting into that apartment is not going to be a finesse job. If the door is metal, we’re screwed.”
“Mine isn’t.”
“Dan nodded. “Since last night, luck has been on our side. We only need a few more minutes of it and we’ll be home free.”
When the elevator door opened again, they were out of it at a run. The apartment was not far away.
“Hallelujah,” Tony said. “It’s wood.”
Dan looked at the metal frame around the door. “It’s going to take both of us hitting the door hard — together. Ready? On the count of three, we go.”
They crashed against the door four times before it gave way. Unable to stop their momentum, they tumbled clumsily onto the floor.
Unlike his father’s meticulously neat house, Alan Grant’s apartment was a pigsty: dirty, smelly, take-out food and pizza boxes strewn about. The furniture consisted of a cheap single bed, a table, two chairs, and a small TV. Contrasting with the chaos were two metal clothes racks against one wall, full of crisply pressed suits, shirts, and pants. Clearly, Grant had priorities.
“Marta?” Tony called out. “Are you here?”
When there was no answer, his shoulders slumped.
The apartme
nt was larger than Tony and Marta’s. They began their search. Behind the large living room was a small dining area and kitchen. A corridor between led to the rest of the living space.
Dan led the way. The kitchen was also a mess while the dining area was stacked floor to ceiling with boxes. Next was a bathroom, disgustingly dirty, followed by two bedrooms that were empty for the most part. They also passed a room clearly meant to be a study, and like the clothes in the living room, this space was spotless and tidy — and bristling with electronic equipment. One wall was covered with monitor screens. Several of them showed news feeds. Disturbingly, though, some showed feeds from the building’s security system, including the lobby. Sam was nowhere to be seen.
“We’re living on borrowed time,” Tony said. “Let’s get going.”
At the end of the corridor was an ornate wooden door — the last room. If Marta wasn’t in there, then they’d run out of luck.
Dan again stepped forward and swung the door open. The large room had been nearly filled with another room, clearly the source of the construction about which Sam had spoken. All they could see of this inner room were thick sheets of dusty foam insulation and electrical cables. Directly in front of them was another door, metal and invincible-looking. Bars were locked across it, as well as six large deadbolts going into the floor, sides, and top of the frame. Without keys, they’d need a cutting saw to gain entry.
“This is overkill, Tony,” Dan said. “I don’t need Lili’s training to know the way this door has been fastened is more symbolic than practical. One big lock would have been sufficient.”
Tony pounded on the door. “Marta! Are you in there? It’s me. Tony. Dan’s with me. We’ve come to rescue you.”
No response.
Dan put his ear to the door and listened, then looked at Tony. “It’s super faint, but I swear I can hear singing.”
Tony, too, pressed his ear to the metal and listened for several seconds. Pulling back, his face had a huge smile. “That is her. She’s singing an aria from the new opera. We’ve got to get her out of there, Dan.”
“How very observant of you, Lusardi,” came a soft, almost gentle voice from behind them. “Turn around slowly, gentlemen, with your fingers laced together behind your heads.”
Alan Grant stood halfway down the hall, too far away for any hope of an attack before the gun comfortably gripped in his right hand could do its deadly work.
Dan’s face was grim. “It’s no good, Grant. The police know where we are.”
“I think not, Mr. Hudson. You see, that distinctive little metal compass that’s dangling from the zipper of your ski jacket — a memento of your Special Forces days, I suspect — is not exactly what you think it is. While it looks just like your cherished heirloom, I replaced that with one that has a sub-miniature microphone and transmitter. As long as I stayed within 400 metres of you, I could hear everything you and your companions said. I’ve been following you ever since you left the police station this morning. So drop the bullshit. Help is not on the way.”
Tony and Dan looked at each other.
Grant continued, “And if you’re thinking your little friend in the lobby will call the cops for you, let’s just say he won’t be opening any more doors for the residents of this building. My going out was simply a ruse to split you up. Two I can handle. Three I wasn’t sure about.”
“You sick bastard,” Dan said through gritted teeth.
“Undoubtedly you’d think that. But a sick bastard way smarter than you idiots — although you did figure out my little clue to get you down here in the nick of time. I was worried I’d made it too difficult. It’s unfortunate you didn’t bring the O’Brien bitch along. That would have given me the trifecta of people who have been really annoying me lately.”
Tony’s expression was grim. “What are you going to do to Marta?”
“Now that’s just the sort of inane question I would expect from a person of your limited intelligence, Lusardi. And before you ask, she’s still alive.”
“I know. We could hear her singing.”
“I hope she knows it’s her swan song. I’ve kept her around long enough.”
Dan said, “You won’t get away. Your father told the police —”
“I know all about that. You don’t think I have my dear old dad’s house and office bugged? This is all planned for. First, you can watch me strangle your wife, Lusardi, then I’ll set fire to this apartment with all of you inside to get gently toasted. After that, I will deal with pater familias and his concubine before leaving the country for places unknown, using my second identity. You see, I’m one step ahead of you all every single time.”
Reaching into his overcoat pocket, Grant pulled out two long cable ties. “Time to get this show on the road, gentlemen. Put these around your wrists, behind your backs, and pull them tight, if you please.”
Grant forced Tony and Dan to the living room where he had them sit on the two chairs there. He’d lined them up facing down the apartment’s central hallway. With a few more cable ties, they were securely fastened down. Each man then had a ball gag forced into his mouth.
Grant leaned down next to Tony’s ear. “Now you can enjoy the beginning of the tragic third act of our opera. Pardon the gag, but I don’t want to risk you interrupting the performance.”
He walked down the hallway to unlock the heavily barred door.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The faint sounds of someone outside the door finally interrupted my singing. It had taken several minutes to realize it wasn’t the normal sounds of my enemy opening the door. This was a pounding sound, distant and unmistakable. He had no reason to do that.
My heart soared. Someone had finally come to release me! Soon, I would be unfastened from the horrid chain, I would be taken out into the light and sound of the real world. My time in this dark purgatory was finally over. Getting up, I walked to the extreme limit of my chain and craned forward, hoping to hear more.
“I’m here! It’s me!” I called out as loudly as I could, then turned my head, hoping to catch some words from my rescuer.
There was nothing.
That’s all right, I told myself, they probably need to get something to cut away the locks and bars so that the door can finally be opened. It won’t be long now.
I sat back on the bed to wait as patiently as I could.
When nothing continued to happen, I began to question whether I’d really heard what I thought I’d heard. I wanted so desperately to be rescued that my mind had tricked me.
Crashing disappointment hit, and hit hard.
More time passed, it could have been minutes. It might have been hours. But then, I did hear, louder and more clearly, sounds that meant the door was being opened. Only it wasn’t someone breaking in. This was like every other time the door was opened by my enemy.
Those horrendous lights came on and the door opened as it always did. Nothing had changed.
It had been many hours since I’d last been fed. “I’m hungry,” I called out.
I could see his form outlined against the door. It took me a few seconds to realize that there was again light coming in from outside the room. I lowered my head in an attempt to defeat the brightness of the room lights.
I could definitely make out a dim corridor behind him. The doorway, too, was different than I expected. There were two of them with about a foot of space separating them. Of course, my prison was built like a recording studio with inner and outer doors to defeat the transmission of sound.
“What’s going on? I said, trying to keep both fear and hope out of my voice.
“Lie on the bed face up,” was all he said. “Put your hands on top of the bar on the end of it and do not move. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” I said, and did exactly what he asked.
“Good. If you move, it will go very badly for you. Do you understand?
I nodded my head.
He came swiftly to me then and before I realized what his intent
was, my wrists were tightly fastened by cable ties to the bar they rested on.
“Stretch out your legs and do not move.”
He went to the end of the bed, grabbed my ankles and pulled me down so my arms were extended above me to their limit. My ankles were then tightly fastened to the bar at the bottom end of the bed. He unlocked the manacle on my right ankle. It clanging loudly as it hit the floor. I was finally free of the blasted chain but now I couldn’t move.
While he’d been bent over me, I’d gotten my best glimpse of him yet, tall and thin as I already knew, I was surprised he had a full beard, and one not neatly trimmed, either. He looked like a wild man.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked.
He walked out of the room and down the corridor, not bothering with the doors or lights. Something was definitely up, but I had no idea what.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
It was pretty clear to Shannon that she wasn’t needed by Dobbin and his crew. Other than stressing to them that they should not underestimate the person they were after, she hadn’t done much good at police headquarters.
She was also feeling a bit ashamed of the way she’d left things with Dan. Leaving Grant’s house with “the big boys” was an unfair way to treat a fellow professional who’d already done so much.
She went over to Dobbin. “Les, I’m going to head out. I’ve got some things that need doing.”
“What you should do is go home, Shan. Quite honestly, you look like hell. I know you’re a tough broad and all, but —”
“Yeah, I know. You don’t have to tell me I nearly bought the farm last night. Anyway, I need a favour. My wheels are down on Front near Jarvis — if my SUV hasn’t already been towed. Can someone give me a lift down there?”
“I will. I’ve got some questions for you about our boy, and since you know the dossier better than anyone, you’re the person who can help me out.”
“You’ve got a deal. I’ll even buy the coffee, and not the burnt swill you serve in this dump. It’s as bad as I remember.”
Dobbin laughed. “Don’t I know it. Damn stuff is eating a hole in my stomach.”
Masques and Murder — Death at the Opera 2-Book Bundle Page 56