Corridor Man Volumes 1, 2, 3,4 5

by Nick James

  Chapter Forty

  Bobby sat there staring at the envelope for a long time. He let it sit on the table and cautiously lowered his ear toward whatever the bulge in the envelope was, checking to see if he could hear something ticking. He couldn’t, not that it eliminated his concern regarding a bomb or possibly a vile of something like ricin or anthrax.

  He cautiously pressed against the bulge with the tip of his pen. Whatever was in there appeared to be relatively solid and seemed to shift slightly in the envelope as he pressed. He cautiously turned the envelope over and stared at the tab he was supposed to pull to open it, debating if that, in fact, would be a wise decision. After a number of minutes, he carefully pulled the tab back and the flap on the envelope popped open ever so slightly. Using the tip of his pen he gently lifted the flap and waited. Nothing happened. He picked the envelope up, turned his head to the side, away from the desk top, held his breath and pushed against the sides of the envelope to open it wider. There was a slight sort of rumble inside the envelope and his first thought was a mouse when suddenly a large, bloodied finger dropped out of the envelope and bounced across the open file on the desk top, leaving a trail of bloody splatters in its passing. A large ring surrounded the bloodied base of the finger. The ring was silver with the top almost square, completely covering the first joint of the finger. A purple ST was centered in the silver square and the square was surrounded by diamonds. Bobby had seen the ring twice before, both times on Bishop Dalton’s hand.

  As the finger dropped out of the envelope and bounced across the desktop, Bobby had half-screamed “Jesus Christ” to himself, then jumped back, tipping his chair over in the process. Now he stood about five feet away from the desk, staring at Dalton’s finger.

  His phone rang at some point, but he had no idea how long he had been standing, glued to the same spot in the file room, just staring at the severed finger.

  “Hello,” he answered, almost whispering.

  “You get our little gift?” a voice asked. It was the same voice as the earlier call.

  “Gift? I don’t think you have the right number.”

  “Is this that crooked lawyer Custer?”

  “This is Bobby Custer. How can I help you?”

  “You in your office, jackass?”

  “No, as a matter of fact, I’m not. Who is this?”

  “We talked earlier, I told you…”

  “Are you the guy who put Bishop Dalton on the line? I already told you, he doesn’t work for me. Never has, never will. I don’t know what he promised you, but I can tell you whatever it was it’s not going to happen. I’m afraid he misled you. He’s crazy. Now, if there’s something I can help you with, let me know. Otherwise, I’m in the process of catching a plane and I have to hurry.”

  “Said he’s getting on a plane. He ain’t in his office,” a muffled voice said.

  “Give me that damn thing.” A different voice, rough and gravelly was suddenly on the line shouting and Bobby pulled the phone away from his ear. “Custer. I don’t give a goddamn if Dalton works for you or not. You shut the fuck up and listen. You either meet me and begin to lay out a plan, or I’ll give your friend Dalton back to you in little pieces. You got that?”

  “I’m going to tell you again, he’s not my friend. I only met him twice. He’s not…”

  “Shut up. You get your ass back to your office and see what we sent you. We’ll talk later,” he said then disconnected.

  Bobby dialed Miguel’s number a second later.

  “You need to be picked up, jefe?”

  “Yeah, but I need you to come up to the office, bit of a problem. Park and I’ll meet you in the lobby. Better check for tails.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Bobby gave him a three sentence explanation.

  “I’m on my way, I’m bringing some backup, just in case. Did you call Luis?”

  “No, that was going to be my next call.”

  “Let’s get you home and safe first. We’ll be there shortly. Stay in your office and I’ll phone when we’re in the building lobby. Understand?”

  “Yeah, yes, I got it.”

  “Good, don’t leave your office. We’re on our way.”

  Bobby set his chair back up, then stood by the locked door and waited for what seemed like forever before his phone rang. “Hello.”

  “We’re in the lobby. Come down and bring us up,” Miguel said, then disconnected.

  Bobby pulled the door open, then checked to make sure no one was watching before he locked the file room and hurried toward the elevator. Thankfully, no one got on the elevator with him and he stepped off a minute later to Miguel and two others who were being eyed suspiciously by the guards at the lobby desk.

  “It’s okay, Ben, they’re clients,” Bobby said, and waved to one of the security guards. Then he turned toward Miguel, extended a hand to the open elevator door and said, “Gentlemen.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Two paralegals were standing in their cubicles chatting to one another as Bobby and company stepped off the elevator. Their conversation stopped and they both stared as the entourage passed by and headed toward his office. He closed the office door behind them once they were all inside.

  “I’ve got the thing locked in the file room, I’ll go get it. You guys wait here for me, I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

  “Maybe one of us should go with you,” Miguel said.

  “No, that’ll just attract more attention. I’ll have enough to deal with when those two out there spread the word to all their friends tomorrow morning. That’s if they aren’t texting them right now, Jesus.”

  “You sure? Tommy can go, he looks respectable. Sort of,” Miguel chuckled.

  “Thanks, but no. Just wait for me here,” he said, then left the office and headed for the file room. The paralegals had vanished from sight. He quickly glanced around before he unlocked the door, making sure no one saw him with a key to the file room. A guy with close cropped hair who looked about fifteen suddenly stepped out of one of the acquisition team offices, but he turned, went in the opposite direction and never even glanced toward Bobby.

  He quickly unlocked the file room door, stepped inside and locked the door behind him. He hurried over to Dorsey’s desk, grabbed a handful of Kleenex from the box next to the phone then took a deep breath and marched over to the reading desk. He grabbed the finger with the wad of Kleenex and stuffed everything back into the envelope. Then he gathered up the Montcreff file, now splattered with bloody blotches where Dalton’s finger had bounced across it, closed the file, and slid it beneath the cardboard envelope. He double checked the reading desk for any telltale signs, then paused at the door to listen for any movement out in the main office before leaving.

  Back in his office, he quickly handed the envelope to Miguel who casually glanced inside and gave sort of disgusted look before handing it off to one of the others. They exited the office and headed toward the elevator, Bobby didn’t notice anyone watching them.

  The cars were parked on the street in a no-parking zone directly in front of the building. The guy Miguel had referred to as Tommy took a few quick steps, and held the rear door on the Mercedes for Bobby, then climbed into the passenger seat while Miguel got behind the wheel. The other two climbed into a black Cadillac Escalade and together they made their way back to Bobby’s apartment.

  When they arrived, Maria was bustling around the kitchen preparing dinner. Bobby and Miguel were in the kitchen standing at the far end of the counter. Miguel had dumped the contents of the envelope out onto a dinner plate. The white plate with the bloodied Kleenex and the tip of the finger sticking out sat between them on the kitchen counter. The other three were out on the rooftop patio, sounds of their laughter floated into the kitchen. “Now what do we do?” Bobby asked.

  “We’ll call Luis. This was a stupid thing to do. To take the finger of a man who has no involvement with us.”

  “That’s what I kept on telling them, but they d
idn’t want to listen.”

  Miguel nodded. “The good news is this shows they are desperate. Very desperate. And they want to meet with you?”

  “That’s putting it nicely. The guy was screaming, said something about a plan or laying out a plan, I don’t know, I can’t really remember.”

  “But you told him you had no relation to Dalton.”

  “Yeah, I told him a number of times. I don’t think he was listening, but I told him. Then he said he didn’t care and that they would call later.”

  Miguel nodded like it all made sense which made absolutely no sense to Bobby. “Let me call Luis, tell him what’s going on.” With that, he pulled out his phone and pressed a button. A moment later, he began to speak in Spanish and Bobby heard his name mentioned twice, but other than that he had no idea what was being said. The conversation lasted just a minute or two. After he disconnected, Miguel slipped the phone back in his pocket then said, “He’ll stop by after dinner.” He said something to Maria in Spanish. She nodded and took a stack of dinner plates, just like the one the finger rested on, out of a cabinet and set the stack on the counter.

  “Maybe some wine for you. You look like you could use it,” she said to Bobby, then gave him a soft rub along his forearm.

  “No, thanks, but I better not. You help yourself. You, too, Miguel… maybe ask the guys out on the patio if they want anything. I think I’m going to grab a quick shower. Can we eat in a half-hour?”

  “We eat whenever you are ready,” Maria said.

  He smiled at her and nodded, then walked back to his bedroom. He undressed, carefully laying his clothes on the bed, and walked into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked tired and sensed a nagging feeling that things were only just beginning to happen.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Bobby was silent for most of the dinner. The dish Maria had prepared, chicken in some sort of sauce over rice, was excellent, but he wasn’t really that hungry. Miguel and the three men chatted away in Spanish, occasionally laughing. Maria kept a worried eye trained on Bobby. Just as Miguel was dishing up a second helping Bobby’s phone rang and everyone seemed to freeze. Then they all turned and stared at him. He pulled his phone out and looked at the number. Emily. He dumped her into his voicemail, shook his head, and they resumed their conversation.

  Miguel received a phone call a few minutes after that, and replied with a short four-word response in Spanish. When he disconnected, he turned toward Bobby and said, “Luis is pulling in downstairs.” He glanced at the two men sitting opposite him and gave a wave of his chin. One of them shoveled a huge forkful of dinner into his mouth and then they were both on their feet, and hurrying to the elevator. Maria was already out of her chair carrying a stack of dinner plates into the kitchen.

  Miguel called something to her and a moment later Bobby heard the refrigerator door open. He thought she might be getting him a beer, but she returned to the dining room with the cardboard envelope and the dinner plate with Dalton’s finger wrapped in the bloody Kleenex. The plate was covered with Saran Wrap, looking like it was some leftover dinner that could be warmed in the microwave.

  “We’ll sit in the front room,” Miguel said, as he stood from the table and carried the plate out to the living room.

  Bobby remained seated, attempting to collect his thoughts. Maria stepped behind him and began to massage his shoulders. After a minute, she gave him a kiss on the top of his head, proceeded to pick up a load of glasses and beer bottles, and hurried back to the kitchen. Bobby walked out to the living room and watched as Miguel fidgeted with the plate on the coffee table, moving it an inch to the left, looking sort of sideways, then moving it back to where it had been. He continued to repeat the procedure until they heard noise in the outside hallway signaling Luis’s arrival. Miguel stood, and Bobby headed for the door.

  “Luis, thank you for coming on such short notice. I apologize for interrupting your evening,” Bobby said as Luis stepped into the apartment and extended his hand.

  “Thank you, but it’s not an interruption. It’s just an unfortunate side of business. That’s the gift they sent?” Luis indicated the plate resting on the coffee table.

  “Yes. It came in that red and white envelope, although it was sent by delivery, not the post office.”

  “Did you speak with the delivery person?”

  It had never dawned on Bobby to do so. If he had, maybe they’d know where these idiots were. They could have found these bastards, grabbed that jackass Bishop Dalton, and been done with this whole, sordid affair.

  “Did you?” Luis asked again.

  “No, unfortunately. I didn’t learn of this until one of our employees brought it to my office. Our receptionist had signed for it. I ran out to the front office to see if I could find the delivery person, but he was already gone. I took the elevator down to the lobby looking for him, but never found him. I checked with our front desk…he didn’t leave a receipt and there wasn’t one on the envelope. Unfortunately, we don’t have any idea who delivered it.”

  Luis nodded. “Tell me about the phone call.”

  “I actually received two. The first came in the middle of the afternoon. A voice I didn’t recognize, I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before. I answered and he asked if it was me, then said he had someone who wanted to talk to me. The next thing I know, this Bishop Dalton person is screaming on the other end of the phone and then the voice came back on and accused me of sending Dalton over to threaten them. I tried to explain to him I don’t know Dalton, I didn’t send him, I didn’t know what he was talking about. The next thing I know, he swore at me, hung up, and the finger was delivered to me a few hours later,” Bobby said, giving a nod in the general direction of the plate.

  “And you’re sure it belonged to this Dalton person?”

  “Yes, it was him on the phone and that’s definitely his finger. I recognize the ring.”

  Luis took a step over to the plate. “Show me,” he said to Miguel.

  Miguel peeled the Saran Wrap back off the plate and attempted pull the Kleenex away from the finger. The Kleenex had absorbed a good deal of blood which had now dried and Miguel had to pick up the finger, hold it by the tip, and peel off the pieces of Kleenex, one at a time. He had to tug at the final two or three pieces to pull them off. Remnants stuck to the bloody stub, but Dalton’s championship silver ring was obvious.

  “What is that ring? His initials?” Luis asked.

  “No, a national championship, baseball. The letters “ST” stands for St. Thomas, his college.”

  “Oh, here, in town? I know this place.”

  Tommy stepped from behind the couch to get a better look at the ring.

  “So,” Luis said. “Tell me of this person who has no further need for his ring.”

  Bobby went on to explain his luncheon meeting with Dalton. He made the point more than once that early on in their meeting, he had decided Bishop Dalton was not the man for the job. He went on to explain Dalton showing up at the office a few days later, threatening him, and screaming as he departed that Bobby was disbarred and going to get everyone killed. “I learned from the report and my conversation with your investigator Martin Roark that Dalton has a hearing with the Bar Association and a scheduled court appearance. That was the last straw. I was convinced we didn’t need the sort of trouble he was bound to bring. Now, here we are and I’m getting fingers delivered to my office.”

  “And his first name is Bishop?”

  “Yes.”

  “Bishop, like the church, it seems to fit. Well,” Luis said and sat down. With his hand he indicated the couch directly opposite from him for Bobby to sit. He pointed at the plate and looked at Tommy. “You can get rid of this. That is unless you have a need for it, Bobby.”

  “No, if I never saw it again it would be too soon.”

  “Take it away then. I sense an opportunity here,” Luis said.

  “An opportunity?”

  “We have been looking for the remn
ants of Montcreff’s organization. They’ve been making noise, a lot of noise, but this is the first action they’ve taken. I would suggest you found them for us, or rather they found you. They’ve not called you back?”

  “Not yet.”

  “They will. When they do, agree to meet with them and… No, wait. Let them talk you into meeting with them, maybe threaten you. Yes, don’t make it too easy, but ultimately agree to meet. You’re going to want proof that this Bishop person is alive. Let them think that is your mission, your goal. You want him released.”

  “But why do they even want to deal with me? I don’t think they were listening, but I stated in no uncertain terms that I had nothing to do with Bishop Dalton. He went there on his own, obviously lied. I’m sure he fed them a line about some sort of working relationship that would benefit them. I don’t really get it. Why are they even remotely interested in me?”

  “They’re desperate. Very desperate. It’s what they think you have.”

  “What I have?”

  “Yes, Mr. Montcreff’s properties…”

  “But I don’t…”

  “And with that, the leverage he had to conduct…business.”

  Bobby sat and thought about that for a long moment. “They’re going to kill Dalton, aren’t they?”

  “Most likely, if they haven’t already. They’ll want to get your attention. Make you believe you have no other option but to work with them.”

  “But this is so stupid, they could…”

  “These are not bright people, Bobby. Dangerous, umm yes, certainly, but not smart. You represent a way out for them, the cash to run away and hide. They think they’ll be able to drink mimosas on the beach with large breasted women for the rest of their days. It’s not a bad goal, it’s just a very stupid plan.”

  “What do I do?”

  “We,” Luis emphasized the word. “Must simply sit and wait for them to contact you. I’ll leave your security in place for the time being. No matter what the caller tells you to do, once you hear from them, you immediately let Miguel know.”