Vengeance Is Personal (A Colton James Novel, Book 2)

by Thomas DePrima

  I smiled and said, "I prefer to walk around my house in my tee-shirt and shorts too. My girlfriend doesn't seem to mind. At least she's never said anything."

  "What's to mind? Really. You can see advertisements of half-naked men and women in almost every newspaper, magazine, and TV ad these days. And premiers and award ceremonies seem to have become an opportunity for women to wear as little as possible. I expect that one day we'll see a starlet show up in just pasties, g-string, and heels. But to the general public, or the media at least, it's a scandal if a male celebrity isn't wearing a tux or at least a suit. I swear they'd make more of it if a male celeb wore tennis shoes with his suit than if a female celeb wore pasties as the only thing above her navel."

  I laughed. "You may be right, Georgie."

  "Right about what?" we heard from the hallway. A man in an inexpensive, off-the-rack suit entered the room. His face had 'cop' written all over it. I wondered if I was getting that look. I probably was.

  "Colt," Georgie said, "this is Lieutenant Danners. He's heading up the robbery investigation."

  I stood up and extended my hand as Danners reached us, but he ignored it. Another Brigman, I thought as I dropped my arm.

  "So this is the great Colton James. What, no deerstalker cap and pipe?"

  I smiled and said, "I guess I left them in the car, along with my magnifying glass." I looked over at Georgie and saw he was grinning. "Well, have you solved the case, Lieutenant, and recovered the stolen items?"

  "We believe we know who pulled the job and my people are out looking for them now. We should have all the items back by tomorrow. So you can head back to Washington, or wherever you came from."

  "That's great news, Lieutenant. I'm preparing to go on vacation to Fiji. I have all my reservations in place, but this has to be wrapped up before I leave. So it's wonderful that you've identified the perps and now it's only a matter of hours before the items are all recovered and the perps are apprehended. What do you figure? An hour? Two?"

  Danners looked at Georgie before saying, "It may be a little longer than that. We won't know until we bring in our suspects."

  "Oh. Well. I'll stay out of your hair if you'll share your findings with me. Deal?"

  "Sure, call me in six months and I'll send you a copy of my final report."

  I looked Danners in the eyes before I said, "So that's the way it's going to be, eh? Okay, I can handle that."

  "What do you mean by 'handle that?'"

  "You conduct your investigation and I'll conduct mine. After I've learned who committed the crime and forwarded my report to the insurance company, they'll be in touch with your captain so he can send you and your boys out to round up the thieves and get the stolen items back. I always prefer to work with the local authorities in a spirit of full cooperation, but when they won't have any part of it, I'm fine with going it alone."

  Danners grimaced, looked at Georgie, then turned and left the room.

  "I don't think he'll be adding your name to his Christmas card list, Colt," Georgie said.

  "I guess not. It's a shame. I really do prefer to work with the local authorities in a cooperative sense, and I'm happy to let them take the public credit. Can I see the secret security room where the recordings were wiped?"

  "Not right now. The police have declared it off limits to anyone except their people. Perhaps tomorrow."

  "Okay. Well, I can't view the crime scene, can't view the security room, and can't interview the witnesses. Not a real productive first hour." I smiled. "But no worry. I'll get your precious memories back to you Georgie, in spite of Danners lack of cooperation. Since there's not much I can do here, I might as well go to my hotel and start working the case with what I know."

  "That's not much to start with."

  "On the contrary. What you've told me gives me a tremendous amount to start with. I'll begin by writing everything out and then start assembling a profile of the robbery and the perps. Criminals are creatures of habit, as are most humans. I'll start scanning the histories of past crimes to see if anything matches up. If it does, I'll begin checking to see where the perps are now, or where their children, relatives, or former cellmates are.

  "It appears to have been a professional job. It may not have been committed by professionals, but whoever planned it knew what he, or she, was doing— unless it was plain dumb luck. The thieves struck when the entire family was away, in addition to your bodyguard and driver. They incapacitated the gate guard before he could give a warning, and they had some kind of advance notice about your security room. Find the planner and we're on our way to recovering everything that was stolen."

  "Do you think Danners is onto anything?"

  "In all honesty— no. He sorta reminds of the Chief of Police in the movie Casablanca. What was the character's name— Captain Louis Renault? Remember when, in the final minutes of the movie, Renault orders his men to 'round up the usual suspects,' all the while knowing that none of them was guilty?"

  Georgie chuckled. "Yes, I remember that scene."

  "It was just a cover story for Renault to hide behind so it would appear he was doing something productive in the investigation should anyone later ask. Uh, is the driver who picked me up at the airport one of your people?"

  "Yes. Maximilian has been with me for— six years. Do you suspect him?"

  "No, not at all. I was just wondering if he was one of your employees. When we arrived, the guard at the gate waved us through without checking to see who was in the car."

  "He already knew that Max went to pick you up."

  "I see. Do you happen to know if Saul's secretary made hotel reservations for me?"

  "No, I don't."

  "Okay, I'll call her. Can Max drop me off at a car rental place?"

  "Sure. Just tell him where you want to go."

  "Great. One last thing. Is there a direct number where I can usually reach you?"

  "Sure, it's…"

  Georgie stopped when I held up my hand. I took out my cell, activated an app, held the phone towards his mouth, and nodded. He gave me the number. I checked to make sure the phone had recorded it correctly and said, "File phone number as Georgie," then nodded when it completed the storage request.

  "Okay, Georgie. Thanks for your hospitality. I'll be in touch."

  We shook hands and I left. Max was standing by the limo, buffing the hood where a bird had just dropped its signature in white, with a little green and black mixed in. Even the rich and famous got shit on occasionally.

  I reached Saul's secretary and learned where reservations had been made, then asked Max to drop me at the car rental agency nearest the hotel.

  ~ ~ ~

  Every time I checked into a motel or hotel in the U.S. these days, I thought wistfully about the wonderful hotels in Europe. Don't misunderstand me— I didn't mean to say the U.S. hotels weren't pristine. And the hotel staffs here were great. It was just that the rooms and buildings in Europe had a certain charm missing in many U.S. hotels. Here, everything seemed to be glass, plastic, or vinyl. But the beds were always great, and that was what I was mostly interested in when I traveled on business.

  My departure from New York had been with such urgency that I'd never had a chance to view the robbery. So as soon as I was settled into my room, I took out my lighter and extracted the gizmo. As I placed it against the wall over the small desk and touched the corner, the crease lines disappeared and it illuminated.

  I used a new app on my smartphone to learn the latitude and longitude of Georgie's house, set the date for last evening and the time for six p.m. Nothing was happening at that hour so I kept jumping ahead an hour at a time until the guard at the gate was not visible through the window because he was lying on the floor.

  I then kept pushing the time backward in five-minute intervals until the guard was upright. I watched as the time passed and made a note of the time when the perps attacked. I tagged the driver and then backed up the time by ten minutes and located the small van where it had been
parked about a mile from the house until the perps were ready to move in.

  The art theft case where I'd first met Saul Fodor involved a smash-and-grab team that didn't harm anyone because no one resisted. But I could tell just by looking at them that they wouldn't have hesitated to pound someone into the ground if that person had given them an excuse. This new team made that other group look like a bunch of little leaguers. I hoped I never had to come up against any of them because there was no doubt in my mind that it would end in gunfire.

  There were seven men in all, and I got a good look at them before they rubbed some kind of black makeup all over their faces and pulled their ski masks down. Only the van driver refrained from using the blackface. It seemed as if someone had cleared out death row at the nearest Tennessee prison to pull this job. I watched as the van pulled up at the estate gate.

  The guard came out of his booth and walked to the driver's window as it rolled down. Without uttering a word, the driver raised a taser pistol above the bottom edge of the open window and fired it into the chest of the guard. I was surprised they chose to electroshock the guard, but they probably wanted a silent approach to the house. Once the guard was down, and while he was still shaking convulsively from the electroshock, one of the team jumped from the van and jabbed a needle into the neck of the incapacitated man. In seconds the guard stopped moving and appeared to be unconscious. Meanwhile, the driver had applied black makeup to his face.

  As the van then moved sedately towards the house, the robbery team prepared to jump out and head for prearranged positions. I followed each man until I happened upon two who went around to the kitchen door. The guard who was supposed to be patrolling was sitting at a table drinking what I assumed to be coffee or tea while he joked with two women who were also seated at the table. I watched as the thugs barged in, guns at the ready. They waved their guns in a threatening manner as they shouted orders at the frightened trio.

  One of them went around behind the three employees and stuck a needle into the neck of the guard. Almost instantly he began to go limp. I was surprised that rather than simply letting the man fall, the robber with the needle grabbed him and lowered him to the floor. Perhaps that was to help calm the women, but they began screaming anyway. Their voices were quickly silenced as they too were drugged.

  With the staff taken care of, the second robber in the kitchen gave some sort of "all clear" signal. The other robbers left their outside posts and raced to either the front door or the kitchen door. A large cargo van, which I hadn't seen until then, entered the grounds and approached the house.

  All of the robbers were dressed alike in black clothing. They wore driving-style gloves to cover their hands and knit caps that covered their heads completely but for their eyes, nose and mouth. It was obvious their faces were blackened beneath the ski masks so even their race couldn't be surmised.

  Once the house was determined to be clear, one of the team hurried to the secret security room. The entrance was through a hall closet, and he had to have had inside information to know its location, how to open the entrance, and even how to turn on the lights without performing any kind of a search. I watched as he expertly typed commands into a keyboard. One by one, the monitors went black. Once the recording was ended, he issued commands to clear the cache memory and open the four DVD recorder trays. As he removed the discs, he slipped them into a zippered pocket of his pant leg, closed the zipper, and left the room.

  Meanwhile, the other robbers had carried large chests into the house from the cargo van and were busy packing them with memorabilia. Each man had a list of the memorabilia he was responsible for removing. I was surprised at the delicacy they exhibited as they carefully wrapped each item and stored it in one of the chests. They had to know they had all night to do the packing. I watched the activity at a number of points around the house. The lists made them aware of everything they were after, and they worked methodically to get every last precious item.

  When the last chest was packed into the cargo van, the house was cleaned out of awards and memorabilia. Little evidence remained that the house was occupied by an icon in the country music industry. The walls in Georgie's study were virtually bare, and the desk and tables were empty. The robbers piled into the small van and the two vehicles left the premises.

  As my stomach began reminding me I hadn't eaten anything since lunch on the plane, I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. I was surprised to see how long I'd been at it. I knew this hotel didn't offer room service, so I would have to go out.

  At the front desk I asked the clerk if he could recommend a good restaurant in the area. Reaching below the counter, he produced a printed page that listed nearby facilities. He said the hotel forbid recommendations by hotel employees, but I noticed his right index finger was pointing to a nearby steak house. I nodded and thanked him for the list as I slipped him a ten dollar bill.

  An hour later I was enjoying one of the best prime rib dinners I'd had in a long time. I washed it down with a couple of bottles of my favorite beer, skipped dessert, and paid the bill. There was nothing like a great meal to make it seem like all was right with the world.

  When I returned to the hotel I wanted to identify the team members, but I had another priority to take care of. I had to locate the skip for Ed Harris.

  I reset the gizmo and located the skip, then began putting together a plan for his capture. I first identified a location for the capture team to assemble, then tried to see what weapons the skip had available. I was surprised to find none. The skip was charged with narcotics possession, and those guys were usually well armed, but there were no weapons in evidence. That didn't mean there were none. I was unable to see inside closed drawers, cabinets, and dark closets, or beneath seat and couch cushions.

  I completed the plan for the skip recovery and then just had to wait until I heard from Vinny.

  * * *

  Chapter Fourteen

  When I returned to work on Georgie's case, my first task was to identify the members of the robbery team. I'd become somewhat adept at tagging people and then zipping back to their births and getting their names from the hospital records. Then it was a matter of observing them when they were congregated to determine the leader or leaders. Once I had that information about the group, I followed them when they left the estate to see where they stored the loot from the job.

  I watched as the cargo truck driver parked the truck near a storage business and then got into the small van with the other members of the team. Except for the driver, the guys in the van had all changed their clothes. The driver then took the van to an untended parking area across the road from a factory that worked around the clock. As the small truck emptied, each of the robbers headed for a separate car. They didn't appear to have a common destination as they drove out of the parking area.

  I stayed with the person I believed to be the team's leader, and recorded his address, then returned to the time where the team left the parking lot and followed each one to learn where they were going. In an hour I knew where each one was currently residing. Of the eight robbers, six were living in cheap motels. The leader and the cargo van driver were living in what appeared to be furnished apartments. At least that was the impression I received when first seeing their lodging because there didn't seem to be any personal items in their apartments. Without the cheap furniture, the apartments would have had the austere appearance of my apartment before Mia arrived.

  Having compiled a complete list of the thieves' names and addresses, I decided I needed a break. A nice hot shower always relaxed me more than anything else, so I stripped down and spent the next ten minutes under the hot spray. As I slipped between the sheets, I felt great.

  ~ ~

  I was awakened from a deep slumber by the ringtone emanating from my phone. Although I usually put the phone into the special protective case that blocked all signals, I had left it out in case Vinny called.

  "Hello?" I mumbled as I tried to wake up.

  "C
olt, it's Vinny. Sorry to call you so late, but we just got into Cleveland. The van broke down and it took half a day to get it fixed. But we're all ready to go whenever you are."

  "Hi, Vinny. Get some rest if you can. It's better if we do this in the daylight. Got something to write with?"

  "Yeah, Colt."

  "Okay, be at this address around ten a.m." I gave Vinny an address a few blocks from where the skip was living, then said, "I'll fill you in at that time. Keep your guys out of sight in the van, and try to look innocuous until you're ready to move in."

  "Innocu what?"

  "Try to blend in with the community and not appear threatening."

  Vinny chuckled. "No problem. We've got magnetic signs for the sides of the van now and a ladder on the roof, so it looks like a painting contractor's van. We even wear coveralls splattered with paint until it's time to move in."

  "Great Vinny. Call me at ten. I'll verify the skip's location and tell you the best place to park the van for the pickup."

  "You're going to assist, right? I mean you're going to watch the action and advise?"

  "Of course, Vinny."

  "Okay, Colt. Thanks. I'll call you at ten. It's nice to be working with you again."

  "Same here, Vinny. Talk to you in about— eight hours."

  ~ ~ ~

  When I awoke at seven, I immediately used the gizmo to verify that the skip was home. He was, and he was still sleeping. I performed another video sweep of the apartment and still failed to see any firearms, but I didn't believe he had none available. It just didn't fit with the profile of a narcotics dealer. They weren't only concerned with the police. They were also always worried about being ripped off by competitors— and even underlings looking to move up. After carrying a gun long enough, a person begins to feel undressed when they don't have one on them, and positively defenseless if they don't have one handy.