Corridor Man Volumes 1, 2, 3,4 5

by Nick James

  “I’m sure you know that, too. How she left me for a rich bastard, guy developed one of those internet companies. She divorced me to run off with him, then the bastard dropped her six months later. Friends tell me I should probably send him a thank you card.”

  “You paying alimony?”

  “No, we just called it even, divorced and went our separate ways. She works for an ad agency. If she’d ended up with that guy, there’s a good chance she’d be paying me. At the time she was just glad to be rid of me. Might have changed her tune since then.”

  “You come on board there’s a pretty good chance you’ll make more money than you ever dreamed of and you won’t have to pay her a cent.”

  “I’ve waited seven years, but the revenge would still be sweet. So who’s the client?”

  “The name Morris Montcreff mean anything?”

  “The gangster?” he half shouted.

  “I don’t know anything about that. I only know he wants to transfer some complex holdings to my client. You think about it. Obviously there’ll be some unwritten rules we’d be following and if something goes wrong, or you don’t follow those rules, it would be a termination of a different sort.”

  VanCamp smiled, picked up his drink and took a healthy sip. “Pleasure meeting and talking with you Mr. Custer. Please, consider me interested, very interested. You won’t find anyone more willing to do whatever is required. I look forward to hearing from you.” With that he slid off his stool, shook hands, and left.

  Once he was out the door, Bobby looked over at Miguel. “What’d you think?”

  “I’m not sure how much of a backbone he has. If things get tough, and they most certainly will, do you think he’ll be able to deal with it?”

  “Greed can be a big motivator,” Bobby said.

  “Yes, and a cause for someone to switch sides as well.”

  “I’m going to head home. You’ll be there to give me a ride in the morning?”

  “I will, and thank you for tonight.”

  “What, this, watching the two of us?”

  “No, my evening yet to come. But, I still insist on walking you to your door.”

  “Not necessary, I…”

  “No, on this I do insist,” Miguel said.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Miguel had parked the car on Western Ave. alongside the Salt Cellar. They crossed the street and headed for the front door of the building, an entrance Bobby seldom used. The door was inset in a brownstone archway about six feet in from the front of the building. The door, actually two, were side by side, full glass panels that led to a small entryway with a telephone mounted on the wall and a box where you could punch in your security code. The door on the right side was unlocked, and when Bobby pulled it open, it moved about six inches, then stuck on a slight rise in the concrete for a moment until he pulled harder using both hands and it opened all the way.

  He input his security code on the box mounted on the wall and the door buzzed for a moment, then unlocked. He pulled the door open then turned toward Miguel to say good night. “I think I can make it from…” He suddenly grew wide-eyed and looked over Miguel’s shoulder as a woman fumbled with her purse, then suddenly pulled out a pistol and began to open the door. “Gun,” he cried.

  Miguel turned and in the same instant pushed Bobby in through the security door. He stepped between Bobby and the woman who had automatically grabbed the door handle with both hands when it stuck. As she opened the door, a car horn sounded out on the street just as Miguel aimed, fired and placed a shot right between her eyes. A sort of stunned look spread across her face and she stood there for a brief moment before she dropped to the concrete sidewalk. The cars out on the street continued to pass by, unaware of what had just occurred. Miguel calmly stepped inside, grabbed hold of Bobby’s arm and marched him toward the elevator.

  “Don’t look back,” Miguel said and a moment later the elevator door opened and they stepped inside.

  “What the fuck?” Bobby cried.

  Miguel pushed the button for the lower parking level and the elevator began to slowly descend.

  “Who the hell was that?”

  “Your neighbor,” Miguel said, “She lives in the unit next door.” Then he raised his eyes and indicated the security camera mounted in the upper corner of the elevator. A moment later the door opened and they stepped out into the parking area. The scorched area where Bobby’s car had been blown up had been repainted and a much brighter white now marked the area. Soot stains still rolled across the outer edges of the concrete ceiling where the crew had stopped rolling paint.

  “We’ll walk out of here, not a word until we get to the car. Are you okay? Can you make it?”

  “Yeah, yeah, of course I can. You can let go of my arm. What the hell was that?”

  “Not a word until we’re in the car,” Miguel said, and then let go of Bobby’s arm.

  They walked up the ramp, pushed the button that opened the door, and walked along the side of the building to the corner. Bobby looked off to the left and saw people gathered in the entry way. One woman stood with both hands covering her mouth, apparently in shock. Two kids on skateboards were hurrying across the street to see what all the fuss was about as cars continued to pass by, unaware. Bobby and Miguel crossed the street, not calling attention to themselves, but not wasting time. They walked to the Mercedes parked at the curb, Miguel held the rear door open for Bobby, and he climbed in.

  Once Miguel slid in behind the wheel he put his key in the ignition, and said, “It might be best to duck down below the window.”

  “Huh?”

  “Get down, so you can’t be seen. I doubt she was alone.”

  Bobby looked around, then stared across the street toward the corner.

  “Bobby, get down, now, down on the floor.”

  As he crouched down onto the floor of the back seat his first thought was ‘Wasn’t it amazing that he could fit his entire body in a space designed just for his feet and legs.’ He felt Miguel pull away from the curb, then stop at the corner and wait for what seemed like an ungodly length of time before he was able to move through the intersection and drive away from the area.

  “She had a gun, didn’t she?” Miguel asked.

  “What? Yeah, yeah at least, I think she did.”

  “You think she did?” Miguel raised his voice then looked over the passenger seat and down on the floor where Bobby sat. “You, you told me she had a gun.”

  “It all happened so fast, I just thought, you know…I mean it looked like a gun and she pulled it out of her purse. I think. Do you think she’ll be all right?”

  “All right? No. She’s dead, I put a round into her forehead. She was dead before she dropped to the ground. Did you recognize her?”

  “No, at, at least, I don’t think so.”

  “Fuck,” Miguel swore, then slapped the steering wheel and half shouted, “Hijo de puta.”

  Bobby didn’t know what exactly he said, but the tone was unmistakable. “What do we do now?”

  Miguel looked in the rearview mirror for a long moment then said, “First, I think you can get back up on the seat. No one has followed us. I think we had better go to Luis and tell him. He won’t be happy, but it will be better than him finding out about this on his own.”

  Bobby didn’t say anything. He just stared out the window, not really seeing anything, just replaying the two or three second incident over and over again in his mind and wondering, was it a gun?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Bobby and Miguel sat out next to the pool at Luis’s penthouse. They had been sitting there, alone, for the past forty-five minutes before Luis finally came out.

  “It’s still just breaking news. The TV report just had pictures of the street blocked off and lots of police cars in the street. They won’t make any public announcement until sometime tomorrow, probably not until noon. She had a gun?”

  “I thought she did, I told Miguel she did,” Bobby said.

  “He shoute
d gun, there was something black in her hand, I turned and fired,” Miguel said. He hadn’t bothered to look up at Luis, but just continued to stare at the ground.

  “I’ve been playing this over and over again in my mind, at least a thousand times, Luis. I don’t know now, I can’t be sure.”

  “How old was she? Can you describe her?”

  “Dark hair, white, maybe forty, forty-five. Lipstick, nicely dressed like, well maybe like she was coming home from work or something.”

  “She carrying anything besides what you thought was a gun?”

  “A purse, she pulled it, the gun I think, she pulled it out of the purse. She looked at me, then pulled the door open,” Bobby said replaying the event in his mind. “The door stuck on a high spot in the concrete floor. I remember reading her lips, she said ‘shit’, then had to use two hands to pull the door open. That’s when I shouted ‘gun’ and Miguel had no choice but to fire. He just did what he was supposed to do.”

  “You should have been aware of this woman,” Luis said to Miguel.

  “I don’t know where she came from,” Bobby said. “All of a sudden she was just there. Maybe she followed us?”

  “Maybe,” Luis said. “Miguel, Carlos is waiting in the kitchen. I want you to take the gun to him and wipe it clean. Then get rid of it, leave it somewhere it will be picked up. Some street fool finds it he may use it in a crime and the police will go after him.”

  “Why not just throw it in the river or bury it somewhere?” Bobby asked.

  “Best to shift any investigation to someone else.” Luis suddenly seemed to brighten. “We can use this. It will provide the perfect scenario to serve notice on the property that you are moving. You’ll stress safety concerns, your car being destroyed, and now a shooting at the front door. You can tell them you fear for your safety.”

  Miguel stood and pulled his pistol from behind his back. From around the corner a large, menacing figure suddenly appeared. He had a pistol pointed at Miguel. Luis shook his head and indicated with a wave of his hand that everything was all right.

  “I’ll take this to Carlos,” Miguel said. “I’m sorry for the trouble, Luis. Please, I beg you to forgive me.”

  “Miguel, there is nothing to forgive. You did what you had to do, and we don’t know what the circumstances are yet. I don’t want you to worry. Now please, go find Carlos in the kitchen. Bobby and I will talk,” he said, then watched as Carlos walked off the patio and into the penthouse headed for the kitchen. Once Miguel was out of sight, Luis turned to Bobby.

  “This is not the sort of press coverage we need out there. I’m working very hard to keep a very low profile and this does not help. Not one bit.”

  “Luis, I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am, but I thought she had a gun. And then everything happened so fast. I…”

  “Happened so fast? What did you think he was going to do? Hold the door for her and then politely ask her if she was going to shoot? He had no choice. In a way I guess we are lucky that he killed her. At least no one can ask her any questions.”

  “I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am.”

  Luis sat down in the chair Miguel had left just a minute ago and gave a loud sigh. “I don’t know. My friend, I think it would be best if you spent the night here. I think we’ll move on your new apartment. This incident, whether real or a horrible mistake, convinces me you’re not safe where you are right now. How soon can you pack?”

  “Pack? You mean to move?”

  “Yes. How soon?”

  “Well, actually none of the furniture is mine. I suppose it won’t take long, mostly just clothes, some personal items.”

  “I think the sooner you do this the better. It will appear you’re genuinely frightened for your safety if we move quickly. I’ll have someone there to help you pack.” He placed a hand on Bobby’s arm. “You are important to me. You saved Camila and Valentina, and with the work to do over the coming months and years, you’ll save all of us. But next time we kill someone, let’s be sure. Okay?”

  Bobby just nodded.

  “Good,” Luis said, then slapped him on the back. “Come, we’re both going to waste away to nothing if we don’t have some dinner and soon.”

  “I don’t know,” Bobby said. Eating was just about the last thing he felt like doing right now.

  “I insist,” Luis said rising to his feet. “Maria,” he called and headed inside.

  Chapter Seventeen

  They were seated in a den, actually more like a small theatre with seating for twelve. The chairs were all matching leather recliners, arranged four across in three rows just like a theatre each row higher than the row in front of it. Everyone sat facing possibly the largest flat screen TV Bobby had ever seen. It had been hidden behind a massive oil painting of horses grazing in a field until Luis pressed a button on some sort of remote and the painting immediately raised up revealing the flat screen hidden behind it.

  There were nine of them in the room, Bobby and Luis with two women in the front row. Miguel, Carlos and two women in the middle row. In the back of the room was a woman tending bar who Bobby recognized, although he couldn’t recall her name.

  Luis looked at his watch and the flat screen suddenly came to life. The Ten O’clock news. Bobby could hear his heart beating and wondered if Luis on one side or the woman on the other could hear it as well.

  “A shooting this evening just after six o’clock in St. Paul,” the news anchor said. “We go now to Randy Shaver, live in St. Paul. Randy what can you tell us?”

  It was dark outside and the scene showed the front of Bobby’s building from across the street. Lights were shining from inside the windows rising up three stories on the five story building. The street appeared to be blocked off with a number of squad cars parked at various angles in the street. “Well Paul, we haven’t heard much at this early stage. We can confirm there has been a shooting, one individual was injured and was transported to Regions hospital by paramedics. We don’t know the condition of the victim, we don’t have a name or motive at this time. Police are asking anyone with any information to please contact them.”

  “Not a lot of information then at this stage, Randy.”

  “That’s right, we’ve been assured information will be passed on as soon as it becomes available. There just isn’t much at this early stage.”

  “All right, thank you Randy. In other news the Minneapolis school district has instituted a new…” Luis clicked off the flat screen and gave a slight sigh then sort of shrugged as he looked toward Bobby. “Maybe no news is good news. We’ll just have…” At that moment his cellphone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, examined the number coming through then pushed a button and quickly brought the phone to his ear. “Sí”, he said. The conversation was carried on in Spanish, and caused murmurs from the row behind Bobby. He looked at the woman next to him, but she was focused on whatever was occurring with Luis’s one sided phone conversation. At least the tone sounded positive. Luis hung up after no more than a minute-and-a-half and looked over at Bobby with a wide grin.

  “She’s known to police.”

  “What?”

  “The woman Miguel shot.” He turned and smiled at Miguel. “She’s known to the police. It means she has a criminal record. So, it would seem there is a very good chance she really was carrying a gun. I’ve got them waiting to hear, they’ll phone me the minute they have anything new.” Luis took a large breath then exhaled and said, “I think this calls for a celebration.” With that he stood and motioned everyone to follow him up to the bar.

  Bobby looked over his shoulder at Miguel who just now appeared to be receiving mouth to mouth resuscitation from the woman next to him.

  They partied, sang and even danced to music that Luis had playing on the flat screen. More people seemed to come out of the woodwork and join them, many looked familiar, both men and women. Bobby noted that Luis remained drinking his sparkling water and always had a body guard within reach. A couple of the men came
up to Bobby and said something in Spanish as they shook his hand. He had no idea what was said, but the intent seemed to be pretty clear, both he and Miguel had been vindicated. Four or five beers later Gabriella suddenly stepped out of the crowd and took Bobby’s hand.

  “Come on, we missed you,” she said and suddenly there was Maria at her side and together they escorted him out of the room. Someone howled as they left the room and everyone laughed. “They just wish they were you, tonight,” Gabriella said and Maria laughed.

  Chapter Eighteen

  He was alone in the bed when he woke the following morning. Outside the day looked bright. The sheets and pillows smelled wonderfully of two different perfumes and the far side of the bed was still warm. A white silk cord was wrapped around one of the bed posts. He vaguely recalled one of them begging to be tied up, but couldn’t remember who it had been. The late night was all a bit hazy. As he pulled back the covers he saw a red garter belt, halfway down toward the bottom of the sheet. When he stepped out of the bathroom after his shower he spotted a lacy pink thong beneath the bed next to one of his shoes.

  Luis was sitting by himself in the dining room sipping a cup of coffee and reading a Spanish Language newspaper, Primera Hora. He lowered the paper as Bobby approached, “Up already, and after that workout. We could all hear them groaning, and Gabriella said she could hardly walk this morning. Well done,” he chuckled.

  “I guess after the relief of that phone call last night I must have had some umm, pent up energy inside. Have you heard anything else?”

  “Nothing as you say, concrete.” Luis looked at his watch, “But it’s just after eleven. There is a news conference scheduled for the middle of this afternoon. I would expect to hear something before then. And, you’ll be packing this afternoon?”

  “I should check in at my office first. I want to keep an eye on those files, I’m marking the ones I’ll copy.”