by Dan Kelly
“We considered bringing in a hostage negotiator from the police department, but vetoed that because it would take too much time for the negotiator to establish any meaningful kind of rapport, trust, and then try to persuade the Chameleon to let the hostage go and give himself up. With you, there’s a chance that you could get a lot more accomplished in a lot less time, at least that’s our theory. We wanted to run it by you to get your response. If you nix the idea, then the only other options left are for a sniper to try to take him and his buddy out from the roof of a building across the street or to break the door down and go in shooting. Either of these options puts the hostage in a great deal of danger which we’re trying to avoid.
“The Chameleon and his accomplice have been in that building for quite a while now and we think there’s a good possibility that their nerves are just about frazzled to the point where they just don’t give a damn anymore.”
With a somewhat disbelieving tone in her voice she exclaims, “Suicidal?”
“With respect to the Chameleon, yes, Jillian, we think it’s getting close to that. I don’t know about the guy that’s with him. We’re convinced that time is running out on us and if we don’t do something soon, the decision will be taken from us. We’ll just be reacting then. So what do you say?”
“Do you have any idea who this other guy is?”
“He looks like the Chameleon’s friend, Sam Ferguson.”
“I might be able to use him as a lever to get the Chameleon to do what we want.”
“Maybe. They were arguing earlier about something. I saw them through my scope when I was on the roof across the street.”
He didn’t realize what he had blurted out until Jillian softly asked, “Popeye, you’d be the sniper if things came to that?”
Kicking himself for being such as blabber mouth he said just as softly, “Yeah.”
Then she remembered what she had heard Tucker say during his conversation with Rex when he asked for Popeye’s help. She had forgotten.
There was silence on Jillian’s end of the line for several seconds and then she said, “I don’t want you to have to kill anyone. If there’s a chance that I can do something to prevent that, I’ll take it. Give me the address and I’ll grab a cab.”
As soon as she told Rex what was going on, he had his chauffer bring his limo around and Red, Joe and Rex piled in to keep her company. There was no way they were going to let her stick her neck out alone, even though they were probably excess baggage. Jillian’s thinking, “They might not be able to help me pull off a miracle, but it’s nice they want to tag along. I somehow feel better having them around.”
Chapter 74
When the limo pulled up in front of the apartment house, one of Tucker’s men was outside waiting for her. “Tucker and Mr. Petersen are on the fourteenth floor waiting for you. You can take the elevator. I’ll let them know you’re on your way up. Who are these people with you?”
“They have a stake in what happens here today. They’re also victims of the Chameleon’s wrath. Is it okay if they stay in the lobby? I may need their ideas if I run into a stone wall up there.”
“It’s okay, Ms. Prevot. I see no harm in it.”
They all hurried into the lobby with Jillian continuing on to the elevators. Red is beside himself with worry over something going wrong and Jillian getting hurt. “Damn, damn, damn. Why did I draw her into this? When this guy finds out that she’s alive, he could start shooting through the door and walls in a blind rage.”
When the elevator doors open on the fourteenth floor, Popeye is standing in the hallway waiting for her. “Anything happen since we talked on the phone?”
“Tucker heard the two guys mumbling about something, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Other than that, not a thing. What are you going to say to them?”
“Popeye, this isn’t something you write a script for. There are too many variables. As of yet, I don’t have a plan per se except to get the Chameleon talking and keep him talking until I’m able to come up with one. I’m just going to have to wing it. Although the ideal objective is to get him to release the hostage and surrender, realistically, I think our chances are a lot better with the former than the latter. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
As they approach the door to apartment 14B, Tucker nods hello and Popeye positions her alongside the door jam and whispers, “No matter what happens, don’t stand in front of the door. You’re on.”
Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly Jillian calls out, “Mr. Carducci, this is Jillian Prevot.”
For a moment there’s no response and then a cacophonous mixture of sounds bombards the door; chairs scraping and falling over on a hardwood or tile floor, glass shattering, a lot of screaming and foul invective and furniture being moved and slammed up against the door and then silence.
Several minutes go by without a sound from inside the apartment. Jillian was about to call out to the Chameleon again when she hears him say, “You bitch! You lying bitch! You can’t even die on the up and up.”
“Look, Mr. Carducci, I know you’re angry at me for deceiving you, but you’re not a stupid man, far from it. If you were in my shoes, I think you would have done the same thing. This vendetta of yours has got to stop before someone gets seriously hurt or killed. You’re dragging innocent people into dangerous situations, that’s not right and deep down you know it. I know you believe that the investigation into your brother’s death was handled badly, that people responsible for it got away scot free. Please give us the opportunity to tell our side of the story, to prove that what you believe could not have happened. We can’t do that here with all the stress surrounding us. We’ll find someplace quiet and peaceful, away from prying eyes. Please, release Mrs. Delinquest and give yourself up.
“You’ve done some bad things, broken a lot of laws, but under the circumstances I think your situation could be handled with a fair amount of leniency. Please give us a chance, yourself a chance, to put this whole mess to rest without anyone getting seriously hurt or killed. Mrs. Delinquest has done nothing to you. Please, let her go and please think carefully about walking out of there and ending this nightmare.”
At first there’s no reaction. Then the two men begin to argue, Jillian assumes over what they should do. A few more tense minutes go by and then there are sounds of a scuffle and a gun goes off. Mrs. Delinquest screams and one of the men begins to groan with pain.
Jillian mutters to herself, “Oh, no.” and then shouts, “What happened? Who got hurt?”
“I did. I got shot in the leg. Damn it, Carl, you could’ve killed me!”
Playing dumb Jillian asks, “Who’s this?”
“Sam, Sam Ferguson. There’s a lot of blood and it hurts like hell!”
“Mr. Carducci, please open the door and let us get Sam to a hospital for treatment.”
“Go to hell. I’ll put a tourniquet on his leg to stop the bleeding and he’ll be fine. The bullet went clear through the calf muscle and it doesn’t look like there’s any bone damage.”
“Mr. Carducci, that will only help for a little while. There’s still the danger of infection. He could lose his leg, even his life. Let us help him.”
A minute or so goes by and then the Chameleon says, “Okay, as you said before I’m not stupid. I know there are men with you out there with guns. I want everyone to back away from the door and go back down the hall to the elevator. If, when I open the door, I see anyone or anyone rushes in, I’ll shoot the old lady. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you.”
Tucker, Popeye and Jillian comply with the Chameleon’s wishes and seconds later the apartment door opens, Sam stumbles out into the hallway and falls on the floor, the apartment door slams shut and the dead bolt is thrown.
Tucker dials 911 as Popeye and Jillian rush to Sam’s aid. Popeye tears the sleeve off of his shirt and uses it as a tourniquet. While he’s attending to the wound he asks Sam, “Why in hell did you get mixed up with that guy?�
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“He’s been my buddy for a long time. A couple of months after he moved from Chicago he called to ask me to lend him some money. He told me he needed it to conduct his own investigation into the events surrounding the death of his brother. At first, it was just money he needed from me and then, little by little, I got more involved with helping him get things he said he needed and helping create problems for the people he targeted. It wasn’t too long before I was in over my head and couldn’t back out for fear I’d become one of his targets. He’s become really spaced-out?
“I tried talking him into giving up, but that only led to a shoving match and me getting shot. I don’t think he meant to shoot me. He was as surprised as I was when his gun went off.”
A few minutes later the paramedics arrived and hauled him off to the hospital.
Popeye, Jillian and Tucker walked back to the elevator where they could talk softly without being overheard by the Chameleon. Tucker said, “Well, it doesn’t look like the Chameleon is considering throwing in the towel. So, Popeye, get back up to that roof and position yourself to do your thing when you think the time is right.
“Jillian, I want you to continue to try to keep the Chameleon talking, to distract him from the apartment windows and Mrs. Delinquest. If you can get him to stand close to the apartment door, there will be less chance of Mrs. Delinquest getting in the line of fire. If Jillian can get him to do that, Popeye, you might not have to shoot to kill. You might be able to get away with wounding him severely enough so he can’t use that gun. A hand or forearm shot should incapacitate him enough to give Mrs. Delinquest a chance to open the door.”
Popeye said, “He has at least two now. Sam was unarmed when he came out of the apartment.”
“All you can do, Popeye, is take the shots you’re given. I’ve seen you do some amazing things with a rifle.”
“Damn it, Tuck, I’m no rodeo trick shot artist.”
“You could’ve fooled me.”
Jillian looks at Popeye with a nod of agreement and a pat of appreciation on his arm for being there and doing what has to be done, like it or not, and heads down to the lobby. That made Popeye feel a little better about what he was going to do, but not a hell of a lot.
“This guy isn’t your ordinary criminal type. A lot of what he’s done is the result of having scrambled eggs for brains. He’s a very smart guy who never bothered anybody until his longing and intense search to find his brother led to tragic disappointment that warped his mind. Shooting someone like him is not the same as shooting an assassin, a dope smuggler, a murderer, an enemy soldier, whatever.”
Chapter 75
When Popeye gets back across the street to the roof, he positions himself at the corner of a tool shed at the edge of the roof. The shed will hide him until he moves around to the side of it to take his shots. He can periodically peek around the corner to see where the Chameleon is located in the apartment without much risk of being seen by anybody. Popeye’s in for a surprise though. As he looks through his scope to sight in his rifle, he can’t believe what he’s seeing. The drapes are drawn.
“Those drapes have been open ever since I came on the scene. Why are they closed now? Did the Chameleon spot me up here earlier? I was very careful. I don’t see how he could have seen me.” Looking around him, the answer literally hits him in the face. “The sun!” It’s approaching five o’clock in the afternoon and the sun is beginning to set and beaming directly into the windows on the west side of the building. He now notices that a lot of the drapes are closed. “Damn!”
He calls Tucker and says, “This guy’s luck is still holding out. The setting sun is so strong the drapes have been drawn to cut off the glare. I can’t see a thing.”
Tucker is quiet for a moment and then says, “We can’t just hold back and try to starve him out. There’s an eighty year old lady in there who would suffer as well and if she’s on any kind of special diet or medicine and runs out of what she needs the consequences could be deadly. We really only have one option left; break down the door and take him by force.”
“I’m coming back now.”
As Popeye enters the lobby of the apartment building, Red asks him what’s up.
Popeye quickly lays it out for him and then he sees Red slipping into that scheming mode of his about which Popeye has developed mixed feelings, dread, being the dominant one. “Oh no, Red, no! No more of your bright ideas. They have a way of blowing up in our faces.”
“What do you mean? It’s only the Chameleon’s uncanny luck that has enabled him to elude us so far. It’s got to run out sometime, why not now?”
“Oh, man. I know I’m going to regret this. What’s your bright idea this time?”
“I was just thinking about how the windows in this building get washed. I’ll bet there are scaffolds up on the roof that are lowered to each floor so the window washers can clean them. Using the scaffold on the west side of the building, I could lower myself to the floor above where the Chameleon is and swing a rope or something to repeatedly tap on the window of the apartment he’s holding the hostage in.
“His curiosity should be piqued enough for him to want to find out what’s causing the noise. Probably more than curiosity, self-preservation would certainly be a motivating factor. He’ll probably think someone’s outside trying to get to him via the window. Situating the scaffold above the window in the apartment would force him to open the drapes to take a good look. Peeking through the slit in the center of the drapes where the two meet or peeking around one of the corners of the drapes won’t give hum enough of a view of what’s out there.
“When he opens the drapes, you’ll have a clear shot at him. It’s worth a try, don’t you think?”
“As much as I hate to admit it, it’s not a bad idea at all, but I had the same feeling about all of your other ideas and look what happened. I don’t know, Red. I think I’m a just little shell shocked from all of your other schemes that went awry. Let me run it by Tucker and see what he thinks.”
It takes Tucker about ten seconds to give Popeye an answer. “Go for it. It’s better than what we were about to do.”
Dropping his cell phone into his vest pocket Popeye says, “You’ve just recruited another member into the Borman Brainstorm Brewery fan club.” Pausing for a few seconds he then smiles and adds, “You’re a dangerous man, Red. People should have to be licensed just to listen to your off the wall ideas.” Pausing again for a few more seconds he continues with, “I don’t believe I said what I just said. I definitely have been hanging around you and Bill Kieffer too much.
“Come on. Let’s round up Don the janitor to get him to show you how to operate the scaffold and get you some workman’s coveralls so you look like a window washer. If your idea works and he opens the drapes, we don’t want him ducking for cover when he sees a guy dressed in the threads your wearing now.”
Don’s able to come up with some coveralls that will fit Red along with the equipment the window washers use, a big bucket of soapy window cleaner, sponges, wiper blades, rags, safety belts, the whole works. Red’s going to strap one end of an extra safety belt to the railing of the scaffold and let the other end with its metal fastener swing free and hit the window of the hostage’s apartment.
Don takes Popeye and Red to the roof and shows Red how to operate the electrical winch on the scaffold. After Red’s been checked out, Popeye says, “Okay, Red. It looks like we’re good to go. I’m heading back to the roof of the office building. I’ll call you on your cell when I’m in position, sighted in and ready. That’s when you should start swinging that safety belt.
“Tucker and one of his men will be positioned in the hallway outside Mrs. Delinquest’s apartment door. Before I call you, I’ll call Tucker on another cell and we’ll leave that line open so I can advise him of the Chameleon’s condition, location and position after I’ve put him down. Whatever the circumstances are then, he’ll know what to do.”