Taunting (The Flint Files Book 1)

by Mark Treble

One minute later Vanderveer replied. “Because I want her here. That’s it.” Joel Vanderveer was clearly devolving, and devolving rapidly. At least the police had confirmation of the hostage’s identity.

  “I want to send somebody in to verify that the hostages are unhurt. He’ll bring in medical supplies and be unarmed. Tell me you’re not going to kill him.” The hostage negotiator was beginning the end game, and hoped Vanderveer’s arrogance and feeling of superiority to the police would work in their favor. He might let Flint inside because he knew he could handle whatever the police tried.

  “OK. Send in a woman. Bare chest and bare feet.” Vanderveer was toying with them.

  “That’s going to take a while. We only have two women here, and neither one is willing to come near you. So, take a break for a while.” The negotiator was gambling that Vanderveer wanted to be in charge of the timetable and was anxious to get on with whatever he had in mind. The gamble paid off.

  “OK, send in a guy, bare chest and bare feet. If I see a weapon the boy dies first.” Grzgorczyk nodded at Danny, who had already removed his shirt and was working on shoes and socks.

  “Flint, you look a lot better with more clothes on.” That was Melvin Brown. His sister cuffed him upside the head.

  Danny grabbed a medical bag and started toward the door. A rifle barrel appeared through a broken front window and discharged a shot upwards.

  “That’s so you know I’m serious.” That was Vanderveer talking to the negotiator. Danny kept trudging onward.

  Detective Flint climbed on the front porch and stood at the door. Joel told him to hand the medical bag through the door and then step back. Flint obeyed. He heard the sounds of things falling on the floor; evidently Joel was emptying the bag. The door then opened and Danny Flint was told to enter.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Inside the house Danny saw Joel Vanderveer standing next to Veronica Meritt. He held a knife to her throat. Veronica’s nose was no longer bleeding, but blood had dripped and dried on her lips and chin. She was bound to a chair but not gagged. The rifle was propped against an end table.

  “Hello, Veronica.” Danny spoke softly, hoping to start calming Vanderveer.

  “Hi, Danny.” Veronica, too, spoke softly. Joel Vanderveer didn’t.

  “Well, this is a nice reunion I see!” His voice was rising in both pitch and volume. “You two know each other. Veronica, were you messing around on me with the fat detective?”

  Veronica tried to object, and Vanderveer slapped her face. “You bitch! You’ve been fuckin’ a cop behind my back. Cunt whore!”

  “Joel, she and I met when she saved my step son’s life.” The lie was close enough to the truth. “How about you tone down the shouting, OK?” Danny was still speaking softly. “You’re in charge here, everybody knows that, everybody knows you’re the smartest one around, and everybody’s going to do what you want, OK?” Danny’s voice was slowly beginning to match Vanderveer’s breathing; Joel Vanderveer’s grasp on the knife slipped a bit.

  “I want ten million in diamonds delivered to me along with a helicopter straight to Mexico. I’m taking the cunt whore with me and will let her go when I’m safely out of the country.” At last, some demands. Parabolic microphones picked up every word.

  “Ma’am, are you and the boy OK?” Danny was speaking softly and calmly to Mrs. Fox, cowering in a corner trying to shield the three-year-old from the crazy man with the knife. She nodded her head and patted the child on the arm. She did not appear to be injured, but you never know.

  “Flint, everybody’s gonna be OK here. Just get me the diamonds and the helicopter. You’ve got one hour. Now, get on it.” Vanderveer’s voice had calmed slightly.

  “Joel, I’ll go with you if you want.” That was Veronica. She, too, spoke calmly, softly and slowly. She began matching her breathing to his. Once they were matched, she slowed her breathing. So did Joel.

  “You’re damned right you’ll go with me.” Vanderveer hadn’t considered any other options.

  The negotiator spoke loud enough to be heard through the cordless phone lying on a table next to Vanderveer. “Ten million in diamonds and a helicopter. You’ll have them. The helicopter we came in doesn’t have the range to make it to Mexico, we’ll have to bring one in. That’s going to take some time.”

  “One hour.” Vanderveer was speaking in a more nearly conversational tone. “Or I take her fucking head off.” Everybody within earshot believed him.

  “Veronica, can I clean up the bleeding for you?” That was Danny again. Veronica nodded her head and Danny looked to Vanderveer for permission. He leaned his head in the student nurse’s direction, which Danny took as assent. He picked up some gauze, tape and cloth from the supplies dumped on the floor.

  “I need to wet the cloth, Joel.” Danny was still speaking reasonably.

  “She can get it.” The man indicated Mrs. Fox, who stood up and held the boy in her arms. “No! The boy stays here.”

  Mrs. Fox was frozen in place. She was not going to leave her child with this madman, but she was afraid what he would do if she refused. Danny walked to her and traded the cloth for the youngster. Mrs. Fox started toward the kitchen.

  The young boy was terrified and his mother was leaving him. He screamed.

  “Shut that kid up!” Vanderveer was yelling and waving the knife. “Shut him up now!”

  Danny did his best, Mrs. Fox came back and took him, which quieted him. But, she hadn’t gone to the kitchen.

  “Give him to me. I’ll hold him while you wet the cloth.” Vanderveer had evidently never dealt with young children. The crazy man with the knife would be far more terrifying than the grandfatherly detective. His mother refused.

  Vanderveer left Veronica and strode over to where the mother was holding her child. He raised the knife and told her to let go of the boy or she’d never see him alive again. She clung to him tightly. Which was all that was needed to push Vanderveer over the edge.

  He raised his hand with the knife and began a plunge downward. It stopped barely inches into its arc when Joel Vanderveer’s head exploded. Blood and brain matter covered the child, his mother and the detective. Damion Wilson stood in the kitchen doorway holding his pistol ready to shoot again if necessary. It wasn’t necessary, Joel Vanderveer was dead.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Sharla Brown made two quick phone calls. An ambulance had been standing by and Veronica Meritt was loaded into it. She protested that she was OK; Danny told her to get her ass in the ambulance. She wasn’t OK until the hospital said she was OK.

  Daryl Grzgorczyk led Mrs. Fox and the young boy – Timmy – out to a police car. Melvin Brown accompanied them on their way to the local police station where her husband and older son were waiting. Sharla brought Danny his shirt, shoes and socks. When she saw the medical bag lying upended she swore. “Shit. I signed for that bag.”

  Wilson surrendered his badge and gun to Grzgorczyk. There had to be an investigation into the on-duty shooting. Justifiable homicide in defense of another was going to be a slam-dunk.

  Once Veronica was on her way to the local hospital Danny called Cheryl to tell her that Veronica had been located and, while a bit the worse for wear, was probably going to be OK. A local police officer gave Danny the name of the hospital where Meritt would be taken and he relayed that to Cheryl. Fifteen minutes later, when Veronica arrived at the Emergency Department, the first question was “You’re the West Nile Virus student nurse, right?”

  The Baton Rouge office of the State Police Criminal Investigations Division led the investigation into the events at the Fox residence. A week later Damion Wilson was determined to have justifiably shot Joel Vanderveer. A week after that he was officially transferred to the High Profile Crimes squad. Meanwhile, Corporal Carly Thibedeaux returned to Third Division.

  The guest house on Carol Talbot’s small estate was literally dismantled in a search for clues. The detectives expected to find the church photos and possibly the photos of Fath
er Swain, but they just weren’t there. The closest they came was a download on Vanderveer’s computer from the parish website of Stewart Swain’s photo that had been used in a couple of the later killings. Carol Talbot had the remains of the guest house taken away and ordered a small chapel built on its site in memory of those who died during the tontine murders.

  Assistant District Attorney Portia Livingston and Detective Danny Flint met with Stewart Swain and Arnold Percy. Members of both congregations had died during the lengthy spree, although more of Martyrs Episcopal Church than of the A.M.E. Church. Swain remarked that numbers were irrelevant because every death was a tragedy, every needless death more so and every death motivated by evil a disaster in the eyes of God and Man. Percy said that his church’s Deacons were urging him to put the entire mess behind them; Swain agreed.

  All but a few of the deaths had occurred among members of those two congregations. Livingston and Flint met with the Deacons at the A.M.E. Church and the Aldermen at the Episcopal Church. Both groups urged the police and prosecutor’s office to declare every one of the cases closed.

  Families of those who had died were consulted, and each agreed that determining whether Vanderveer or Clemons was the real culprit was not going to accomplish anything. Joel Vanderveer was most likely the only killer involved, although there was no way to clear Steve Clemons. Vanderveer was dead and so was Clemons.

  An attorney from Dallas, Texas, was engaged to write a final report on the Martyrs Murders. That took a year, by the end of which the story had left the front page, replaced by a Category Three hurricane that devastated southern Louisiana.

  Clemons’s assets could not be seized because he had not been found guilty of anything. Herb Lockhart filed a suit against his estate and won. The proceeds were turned over to the victims’ compensation fund. The near-billion-dollar diamond haul was sold and the proceeds turned over to the fund as well.

  Carol Talbot requested the names of those who had been murdered, or likely murdered, in connection with the tontine. There were six names on the list who were not connected to the tontine. She asked Herb Lockhart to poll every member of the tontine and ask whether these six could be awarded full tontine subscriptions post mortem. The vote was unanimous in favor of the award. That meant the eventually-recovered seven billion dollars plus was split among one hundred six members and members’ estates. Each member or estate received a bit over $66 million.

  The one hundred thirteen lawyers involved in the initial forty-seven lawsuits against everyone who could spell “tontine” were invited to submit bills for their time spent in organizing and filing the lawsuit. Their aggregate $34 million was cut to $11 million. They were then invited to trace the estates of their erstwhile clients at a rate of $125 an hour. Twenty two did so and billed an additional one point four million, which was paid.

  Two years later the judge declared the tontine dissolved and ordered Lockhart to deliver a plan within two months to distribute the remaining assets equitably.

  The government of Vanuatu was in a tough place. It could seize the nine billion dollars in Clemons’s account, but would be screwed internationally. Its banking industry would tank immediately, tourism would drop off drastically, and it had no other major sources of foreign currency. A novel resolution was proposed and accepted.

  At Ethan McQuade’s urging, Deidre Schockley brought Lockhart a “think piece” put together by Ethan’s neighbor, Mike Allison. It related the sorry history of Nauru. In the 1980s and early 1990s it was the richest country in the world. Nauru was a small island nation about a thousand miles north of Vanuatu. It had enormous phosphate deposits which were mined and the money spent immediately. Within ten years the country was in abject poverty with ninety percent unemployment and surviving only on foreign aid. The closing line was “Don’t let this happen to Vanuatu.”

  The Vanuatu Minister of Public Finance and Economic Management would oversee a fund in the amount of $200M to resolve all related issues in the country. Some of the money would also be used to develop and implement stronger banking regulation to prevent a repeat of the money laundering. The government of Vanuatu would keep $1.8 billion. One billion dollars would be used to fund nearly a decade of government operations. The remaining eight hundred million would fund a national program to create infrastructure and industries that would ensure the nation’s future.

  Herb Lockhart sent a representative to Vanuatu to assist in keeping the program on track. Mike Allison accepted the job, and he and his boyfriend, Luke Dupree, prepared to fly to Vanuatu for two years.

  Chapter Forty

  Melvin Brown’s retirement party was an affair to remember. The Superintendent of Police and the District Attorney both attended along with numerous other dignitaries. Melvin was promoted to Lieutenant effective two years earlier, with a very nice bump in his pension. His sister, Sharla, pinned on the new bars that matched her own.

  The event was held in a hotel ballroom and all police officers wore their dress uniforms. Melvin wasn’t much of one for ceremony, but he was over-ruled by the Superintendent. After the promotion ritual most guests tried to reach Melvin to congratulate him, but he was nowhere to be seen. He and the Superintendent had disappeared into a side room with a police sergeant stationed outside with orders to let no one pass.

  Danny and Cheryl attended, of course. “What are you going to do for a partner, now?” Cheryl knew how much Danny had depended on Melvin.

  “Daryl hasn’t said a word about it,” Danny replied. “I’ve asked him and he said to wait until after the retirement ceremony. I’d love to work with Goldberg, but she and Silverstein are inseparable. And I don’t want to break up a good thing.”

  Sarah Goldberg and her husband, Avram, walked up. “Danny was just saying that if you weren’t already taken he’d want to partner with you.” Cheryl was always direct, something that Danny found alternatingly endearing and infuriating.

  Goldberg laughed. “Taken,” gesturing at Avram, “and taken,” gesturing at Silverstein. “I appreciate the compliment, though.” The four continued talking and were soon joined by Stewart Swain, Arnold Percy and their wives.

  “Where’s that student nurse of yours?” Reverend Percy asked Cheryl. “She was a lifesaver at the poisoned supper. I’ve never had a chance to thank her properly.”

  Cheryl spotted Veronica across the room, which was too full and too loud for her to be heard at much of a distance. She walked over to Veronica and asked her to join them.

  The two clergymen poured compliments on her until Cheryl told them it was enough. “She’s going to be a nurse. Don’t get her accustomed to being thanked for what she does, she might grow to expect it.” They all laughed but Veronica; she knew the truth of the statement.

  “You here alone?” That was Danny, wondering if she had brought a plus-one. He hadn’t seen her with anyone, but then he hadn’t seen her until now. She started to answer when Daryl Grzgorczyk walked up, Damion Wilson in tow. Daryl handed Veronica something wrapped in tissue paper and said it was time. The three of them walked to the small raised dais at the front of the room.

  “We have a new corporal in the squad,” Daryl announced. “Damion Wilson is on track to get his gold shield in rapid order and we think this is both deserved and appropriate. Veronica, would you do the honors?”

  Veronica unwrapped the corporal’s stripes and pinned them on his sleeves, then gave him a kiss on the check. Damion broke his rigid stance, took her in his arms, and gave her a deep kiss. Forty-five seconds into the kiss Daryl broke them up and suggested they get a room. They had moved in together that morning and didn’t need one.

  “That’s a surprise,” Danny noted. “I didn’t see that one coming.”

  “I told her to set an orgasm quota first thing,” replied Cheryl. “It’s worked out well for me.”

  Danny was saved from having to say anything when the Superintendent took the dais and called for everyone’s attention. “Lieutenant Brown has agreed to stay on in a newly-cr
eated position. He will head the department’s new mentoring program, and establish a standardized training and education program for detectives.

  “Let’s have a round of applause for the non-retirement.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Ethan and Carly had asked Danny and Cheryl over for dinner. Just an informal thing, pasta plus salad and a desert. Cheryl brought a bottle of middling white wine; none of them was a connoisseur.

  Alex was on his best behavior and wearing clothes. Danny thought for a moment that Deidre has been a good influence on him, but that would mean thinking kindly of a lawyer. Danny just wasn’t ready to do that.

  They talked mostly about the book Ethan was writing in collaboration with Jack Ramsey. It was supposed to be a murder mystery set in New Orleans. Ethan had suggested a plot based on the Tontine Murders but Jack had vetoed it. Nobody would believe it.

  Alex refilled the wine glasses, pouring water for himself and Carly. Alex was still underage, but that wasn’t the issue. He just didn’t drink wine.