Justifiable Homicide

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Justifiable Homicide Page 4

by Waggoner, Robert C.


  17.

  Peter Holmes was the brunt of the FBI office. Nobody called him Peter, but Homes, referring to the sleuth Sherlock. Peter didn’t mind so much, but what they didn’t know was that he cut his teeth on Sherlock Holmes when he was a kid. In fact that is what led he to the FBI was his love of a mystery coupled with logic. Peter wasn’t married, but had a girlfriend but nothing serious. Peter was an Iowa boy whose parents were both pharmacists in Dubuque. His parents wanted him to follow as a pharmacist or doctor, but his love was crime which always resulted in a frown from both his parents.

  Now sitting at his desk scanning the computer for linkage of his new challenge before him, he linked the killing in the Florida freeway murder with California’s drug massacre. Or was he stretching it a bit linking the two. With the curious freeway death it hardly drew the conclusion of gang related or did it. Use some logic he thought. Druggies are notoriously paranoid of anyone they don’t know. So logic says one, they knew the killer, two, an inside job with the fourth guy escaping, but how would he escape. Or maybe, he thought, a third possibility and that was someone stopped by to see if they could help and murdered all three. Peter was making notes on a yellow legal pad when a call came in alerting him from Seattle that they found the rifle which ballistics determined the murder weapon. He made a note in his files and looked at his watch. Almost noon and time for lunch he thought. Peter started work normally at six am and worked till he thought it time to give it up for the day which was always after six or eight at night. Now as he walked to the elevator alone he was deep in thought about something that he felt was a major event coming. Little did he know how right he was until the following weeks produced evidence?

  18.

  PI Brian Refuta in Miami received his next assignment via e-mail two days after he completed the freeway job. The name he didn’t recognize, but the address he knew fairly well. It was upscale on the waterways where the ultra rich lived. By the time he read the information he realized this would not be easy. It was assured the guy had many body guards around him if the information was correct. This would take some serious planning he thought while drinking his fourth or fifth cup of coffee and god knows how many cigarettes.

  Not so far away, across town Number One was thinking about the next hit while he too drank his morning coffee. He thought a hit on this drug mogul from India who reputedly controlled the heroin trade with a trail from Afghanistan down through India and into North America. Number One thought maybe a clever smart guy like Brian could come up with something unique to take out this guy and rock the drug world.

  19.

  Out on the West Coast Robin Eggar dressed in camo gear rode his new motorcycle to the top of the mountain where the Big Boss lived behind security cameras, dogs and body guards with flood lights illuminating the stables and ranch house. This was only a look see trip for Robin to see what he was up against. After a two hour look he decided it was all he thought it would be. The fence around the place couldn’t look too high for security as people might wonder what the real purpose of a high link razor wire fence was needed when surveillance cameras and guard dogs were very evident. Robin had on some catalogue scent that would fool the dogs for awhile, but who really knew for how long. These guard dogs were trained to not bark but to attack. Robin at two twenty and six four would take out the dogs with a baseball bat. All was a go for tomorrow night, he thought.

  ***

  Toni Tether in Atlanta after a good night's sleep, logged onto her computer thinking she would check to see what the FBI was onto if anything about the recent events in Seattle, Miami and LA. Did she feel guilty about hacking into the mother computer in Washington DC, of course not as her finger flew over the keyboard. Once in, she looked for electronic traffic first from Seattle to Langley and two e-mails caught her attention. Both went to the same computer. Ten minutes later she had the ID on the receiving end of the transmission and the password of the agent with whom it was intended. Curious now she searched for password ID on the computer and sure enough up come the name of Peter Holmes special agent in charge of anomalies related to terrorism or other acts of domestic crime.

  Who is Peter Holmes she wondered. Once more fingers pounded the keys and into personnel for a view of special agent Peter Holmes. She liked the sound of his name and soon up popped Peter. He was just over thirty, medium build, nice looking, graduated Northwestern University with honors, born in Iowa and single. Well, she thought, maybe it is time to send Peter a card in the mail and let him know he is being watched. You’re wicked Toni, she thought, and with a smile sent him a belated Happy New Year e-card. Try as he might, no way could he trace the sender after she cleaned out her computer.

  Peter as usual sat at his desk working when the mail came in for him. Never one to put something off, he wondered why after he just checked for new mail this one came in. When he brought it up and it said an e-card for a Happy New Year, he wondered how the hell someone knew this address. Maybe it’s another Sherlock Holmes joke he thought as up popped the card saying, “Happy New Year Peter, from an admirer of yours. If you are somewhat curious who I am here is my address, but don’t spread it around.”

  Ok, he thought, I’ll play this game and see what happens. He looked around to see if anyone was snickering or hiding laughing behind a wall which separates mini offices of the overcrowded room. Seeing nothing, sitting back down, he sent a ‘who are you’ and a ‘how did you get this address?” Then he sent it off. Peter picked up his phone and called the computer main frame room. Some nerdy guy answered and Peter told him he wanted a trace on an e-mail. In no time at all the guy told him it came from Austria having been bounced around until no source was possible. Peter thanked him and sat back and thought about it like his mentor would. Only in this case he neither smoked a pipe nor played the violin.

  20.

  Joy Listy rolled into Dallas with a game plan. From the background on this guy he was a ladies' man with a reputed long tube steak. His favorite hang out was his own restaurant featuring prime beef and as rumor had it, a loft upstairs where he discreetly took a lady friend or two for a romp in the hay. Joy’s plan was a disguise of sorts and entice this dude take her for a ride in his loft. A bit risky but Joy had been around the corral more than once and if she teased this guy enough, maybe she could get him to her hotel room, where she would check in under disguise and all that went with it; and off him at the point where he truly went to heaven, or in his case, hell, leaving a sagging dick like bleached long horns on the prairie.

  ***

  But in Miami, Brian Refuta was having a difficult time with his assignment. After checking it out both by road and water, this guy was isolated and protected like a Scottish castle. He was sitting at the Purple Cocktail nursing a gin and tonic watching the smoke curl up from his Marlboro in his ash tray. The bar tender came by and asked him, “Brian, a penny for your thoughts” He looked up and smiled. She wiped down his spot at the bar and topped off his drink with a shot of Tanqueray.

  Brian said, “Hey thanks Maisey, I needed that. I have a difficult case I’m working on and sorry not to be more talkative.” He took a large pull and an even larger draw on his smoke making the end glow like a torch. Letting out a cloud of blue sideways so as not to fill her face full of smoke he went on saying, as some smoke drifted out of his nose, “What I really need is a vacation.”

  Maisey laughed and said, “Hell, Brian you don’t work ten hours a week now. Why would you need a vacation?”

  “I don’t know to tell you the truth, but a few days riding around in one of those yachts would be nice with a cold drink in one hand and a girl in the other,” as he looked on her pretty face with bedroom eyes. She saw his look and frowned while moving off down the bar swiping up a mix of spilled drinks and ash from careless smokers.

  Brian went back to thinking how he could get this guy alone and make him pay the fiddler. Maybe a minor fender bender, he thought. Or follow and wait for an opportunity to arise. He liked the first one best.
Guys like him played golf and his information said he played every day at an exclusive country club. Brian knew next to nothing about golf but with the make and license plate number he would see what happens tomorrow parked waiting for him to enter the golf club.

  21.

  Robin Eggar in LA was ready as he gathered up his tool kit and rode his new bike up the mountain at midnight. He figured to be inside the grounds by two am. That morning at the court house he obtained a floor plan of the house and memorized the layout. On his previous recon he counted two outside guards with two dogs running around just inside the fence area like they were trained. It would be easy enough to cut through the fence and then wait for the attack dogs to come get him. He’d padded his left arm and the bat would be in his right hand with a glove on it. He’d practiced many times against his old sofa until the insides floated around the house making a mess.

  He parked the bike in some brush alongside the road out of sight. He waited until his vision adjusted noticing a clear night but no moon. A slight breeze across the top of the mountain from the west gave him perfect cover as he would approach the ranch from the east.

  Ready now, just before hiking across the dry scrub land typical of the hills around LA, his training came back as he moved silently towards his destination. Step by step soundless he made his way towards the distant lights of the ranch. Once at the fence he surveyed the area seeing one guard smoking a cigarette and half asleep. Robin wondered if when he clubbed the dog the guard would hear the thump and or the cry from the animal. Well if he did and came to investigate he’d take him out with a long shot from his pistol. The guard was near the door under bright lights and for fifteen minutes Robin watched the house. He saw one dog come by and circle the house and not long the second dog sensed something and slowly made his way towards Robin. By then Robin had cut a hole in the fence and slithered through. Robin’s eyes never left the dog as it came at a trot while he lay on the ground. Just about twenty feet from him Robin jumped up as the black Doberman flew through the air at him. Robin took the dog in the head with a loud thwack and down the dog went without a sound. Robin dropped to one knee and with his knife cut the dog’s throat while keeping an eye on the guard who never moved. Robin waited for the other dog to come as it probably would smell the blood.

  No sooner thought, the other black Doberman was on the run. Robin stayed on one knee and then like the last time, rose up and this time with two hands he took this dog in the neck breaking it leaving two dead dogs next to each other for someone to find in the morning. Crawling on his belly the hundred feet or so to the guard who had his head on his chest sleeping Robin put a silenced bullet in the side of his head from ten feet away. There should be two more guards around and Robin propped the guard back in his chair and waited for his buddies to come by. By now Robin’s breathing had returned to normal after a not too difficult job of taking out the dogs and guard. A half hour passed he guessed when both guards with machine pistols hung over their shoulders came walking back up softly talking to one another. This time as they were moving targets he heart shot both and piled them next to the house.

  Now it was time to see what waited for him in the inside. Sticking to his plan to enter the house through the kitchen he hugged the side of the house from the front to the back where the kitchen looked to the west. Night lights in the house gave off dim scenes of stillness. At a kitchen window he saw two guards drinking coffee and chatting with words he couldn’t hear. Robin noticed that one guy was huge and the other probably the results of the product they protected as he was rail thin. Robin decided to take no chances with the big guy and put at least four into his heart and then take out the little guy. Robin moved to the side door and gave one medium tap and moved back four steps and crouched down on one knee. As predicted the big guy came to the door and looked out, but not seeing anything slowly opened the door with his machine pistol at the ready. Robin dressed in black and in the shadow with the light passing over his head, remained frozen as the guy slowly opened the door and moved out two steps. The little guy was behind him, but no pistol was evident. Robin put four quick silenced shots into the big guy who crumpled down leaving an opened mouth guy staring at his friend while Robin calmly and carefully placed two shots into his heart.

  Robin put two execution shots to their heads and moved into the kitchen hearing no sounds. Robin changed pistols to one that was fully loaded and checked each room in the house. When he came to the master bedroom, he slowly opened it to a night light on the wall casting a faint yellow glow over the giant bed with the Big Boss snoring. He was alone in the room and Robin felt confident to walk over and placed the gun into his snoring mouth saying in a voice you might hear in a library, “Don’t move or you’re dead.” The boss stared up at a black face and blinked a yes. “Now that I have your attention Mr. Big we are going to have a little talk. Do you understand me?”

  Once more the guy blinked and Robin removed the pistol and put it next to the side of his head so he could talk. Mr. Big said with a croak from a dry throat, “What do you want?”

  “I first want you to tell me everything you know about the drug business and we will go from there. Like this, how do your drugs come in and when is the next shipment due. If I think you are lying to me I will first shoot you in the balls where it takes a long time to die from just a little blood oozing out of you dick.”

  The man now had terror in his eyes looking past Robin to see where his guards were. Then he said, “Next shipment is due this weekend by ship into Long Beach and the sacks of coffee contain the drugs.” To keep him talking Robin pulled down the covers and found that he slept in the raw. Robin placed his pistol next to the guy’s shriveled dick. Big quickly continued saying, “The ship’s name is The Cortez and the coffee is labeled “Rico Imports and Exports LTD.”

  “Very good and now where are the funds to pay for the drugs.” Robin noticed his eyes went to the wall where the safe was and next said, “Show me the money.” Slowly he let the guy up and with one pistol at his head and the other sticking up his ass Mr. Big hobbled over to the wall safe and two tries later, got it open. Robin told him to lie on the floor hands out and spread eagled. The guy complied and Robin saw stacks of American money filled the wall safe. Next he told the guy to move back to the bed and lie face down. By now Mr. Big thought it was time to meet his maker and he couldn’t have been more right as Robin asked him one more question and that was, “Where are the drugs in this house?”

  Mr. Big said with a quivering voice, “I don’t keep any drugs in the house, but out in the stables in an office there is another safe like this one.” Robin told him to get up and walk slowly to the stables. On the way, Mr. Big looked left and right hoping some guards might save him, but when he arrived at the stables his shoulders sagged knowing he was alone and helpless. He opened the safe and Robin saw zip lock bags of white shit that fueled his burning desire to shoot the shit out of this guy right now. But Robin had other plans for him. Robin led him out of the office and asked him, “How many horses are here?” He told him ten and led the Big Boss to open all the stall doors and ran the horses out free to roam the area. Robin then tied the guy securely to a corral door.. He smiled when he told him he was responsible for sending his dealer’s house down the canyon and that if he was still alive in an hour he would see this place burned to the ground.

  Brain stepped back and checked his work. Satisfied he strode to the office and opened one bag of white and carried it out to the Big Boss. “Do you use this stuff?”

  “No.” and he stared at the bag thinking that he was going to die of an overdose, but he was wrong, he was going to hell and that meant fire. Brain told him to hang his tongue out and taste this shit that so many people were hooked on. Big stuck his tongue out part way and Robin poured a cup full on his tongue, but most spilled on the floor. Mr. Big spit and choked with a lot of coughing and then puked up his guts. Robin laughed and told him to say his prayers as he walked back to the house, picked up the money,
put it in his back pack and went to the garage to find some lawn mower gas. He found what he was looking for and spread some around the garage and inside the house piling on some blanket soaked with gas. He went back to the stables and mixed some gas with the hay and set a timer for the Big Boss to see his life ticking away.

  The last words Mr. Big heard from a human was that in an hour or so the timer would go off and he would burn in hell. Robin left taking the same way out as in, started his bike and rode down the mountain. He was way too far way to see the place go up in flames, but read about it the next day in the papers.

  Robin e-mailed his contact with the drug news about the ship coming into Long Beach while reading the paper which splashed the event across the front page. The Big Boss was long suspected of being associated with drugs and the paper alluded to maybe there was a connection between the other house crashing into the canyon and this new fire where six bodies were found murdered and two dogs. They didn’t mention Mr. Big tied to the corral and burned to death. However the FBI was on it and was combing the area for clues.

  22.

  Joy after checking into a swank hotel under an assumed name after she had gone to a hair dresser for a makeover into what looked like a call girl, took a rest before she went to the steak house where her mark was sure to be. Now she looked into the mirror and smiled as her once long red hair was now more blonde than anything and heavy makeup making her blue eyes an off grey. Her nose powdered down made it look a bit shorter than its usual long thin sexy part of her oblong face with slightly larger than thin lips she hoped would attract the rancher.

 

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