“That’s enough for you.” Vinny turned off the video. “I think you get the point.”
“I think she’s the one getting the point. Wow. How did Sue get her hands on that?”
“No idea. But, this will break our case wide open. Bam shizzaam.”
Chapter Thirty-three: Squeeze Play
Early the next morning before Raja had awakened, Vinny was at her computer sorting through the massive amount of investment data her search program had uncovered. She had barely slept at all, but that was never a problem. A new text from Sue Storm came in on her iPad. This time it was a message giving the name of a source who had more information on the governor. There was an address and instructions to meet him there this morning.
Vinny looked at the clock. Raja wouldn’t be up for hours. She dashed off a note saying she was out following up on a lead from Sue and pinned it to the coffee machine. That would be the first place Raja would go when he woke up. Excited to be out on her own chasing a lead, Vinny pulled out of the Studio City garage in her BMW and picked up the freeway towards downtown LA.
Fifteen minutes later, Vinny turned down an alley that matched the address and slowed to a crawl, checking for numbers. She stopped near the dead end of the alley and got out. After brushing dirt off of a metal door, she found the number she was looking for. The rusty padlock and layers of grime said the door hadn’t been opened in years.
Vinny climbed back into the car to double-check the address on her iPad, and noticed a garbage truck had pulled into the alley behind her. Before she could get out to ask the driver to move, a small metal cylinder sailed through the BMW’s open sunroof and landed on the seat next to her. As she looked at it, a cloud of gas softly exploded from the object and quickly filled the cabin. Her thought, Get out, didn’t have time to reach her muscles.
Vinny woke up sitting in the passenger seat of the BMW she had been driving. She was sure it was daytime, but the car was in a dark space with very dim light. As she felt around for the car’s interior light switch, a heavy metal door creaked open above her and blinding sunlight poured in through the open sunroof.
“Smile for the camera,” said a male voice coming from a shadow above her. The phone’s video camera caught her squinting with her mouth open. Then the door slammed shut again with a metallic clang, bringing darkness. The sound of a heavy motor starting up echoed in the enclosed space.
The one thing there are too many of in southern California is automobiles. No one would dream of living there without a car, or two or three. But what do you do with them when they are old and no longer used? The automobile junk industry has made an art form of crunching a car down into a surprisingly small cube for disposal or recycling.
Vinny flipped on the interior light and looked out through the windshield. A heavy metal piston rumbled slowly toward the car.
“O-M-G,” she said softly. Then she screamed.
Chapter Thirty-four: Special Delivery
Sue Storm was determined to remain alive. She insisted on taking what might be considered extreme cloak-and-dagger precautions. However, in light of the body count, Raja couldn’t find fault with her caution. Once making initial contact with Raja, she had a list of addresses couriered to him by hand. The list consisted of addresses near payphones at random locations in the city. Each address had a letter assigned and a time of day. When she wanted to speak to him she would call his phone and leave a letter and date. If Raja could rendezvous he would return the call and leave no message. Then he would be there at the designated time, and wait for her call on the payphone, which she made from another unregistered phone.
That is why Raja stood in the hot sun a hundred feet from the El Pollo Loco on the corner of Broadway and Third at quarter to one in the afternoon. It was the address of a flower shop called Basic Flowers. Out in front was a rare working payphone. Raja waited for fifteen minutes, and at exactly one o’clock the payphone rang.
Sue had insisted on no one using her name on the phone.
“Hello, Fran,” said Raja. It was his sister’s name. He felt idiotic, but if it put Sue at ease, he was willing to play along. After all, Sue had broken their case wide open.
“Hey,” was all the greeting Sue offered.
“How are you doing?” asked Raja. He knew how isolated Sue felt, and tried to provide some human contact.
“It’s no vacation—unless you want to call it a vacation from my life. Talk about life interrupted. I always wondered what it must be like in the witness protection program. Horrible. I could go on, but enough about me. I wanted to give you some background on the Solarman story.”
“Before you do, I wanted to thank you for the file—it has been a goldmine. And thanks for the lead you sent Vinny.”
“What lead?” asked Sue.
“The address you sent Vinny.”
“What address?”
“Hold on.” Raja hit the call waiting button. As soon as he got a dial tone, he punched the 2 on the speed dial for Vinny. It rang so slowly. “Come on, come on,” he said, willing her to answer. When the call finally went to voice mail, the back of his head was already throbbing. “Vinny. Raja. Call me now.”
Switching back to Sue, he said, “We better talk later.”
“Is everything okay?”
“I’m sure it is. I need to check on a few things. But, I would keep your head down and be on alert for the time being.”
“You’re preaching to the choir.”
“Yeah, I forgot who I was talking to.” Raja was already extrapolating every scenario he could on Vinny. Not one had a happy ending. “I gotta go,” he said, and hung up abruptly.
Raja tried calling everyone he could think of who might know where Vinny was. No one had seen or heard from her. Despite Vinny’s natural economy with words and her whimsical nature, it wasn’t like her to leave Raja hanging this long, especially in the middle of a case. Once she had gone on an impromptu skiing trip with the men’s U.S. Olympic team, yet she had called Raja from the lodge in Aspen to let him know where she was. She knew how protective he was and how much he worried. After Vinny had been incommunicado for more than three hours, it was time to panic.
Raja raced home to the loft in Studio City. He tried Vinny four times during the drive, with no luck. Now he stood in front of the glass computer screen, unable to locate the address Vinny had found. It had to be there somewhere. Nothing on the desktop. She was very organized. He sometimes teased her about it, but now he hoped she had taken the time to record the data from her phone. He searched for folders on their case, finding one titled “leads.” Inside it he found a document marked with today’s date.
Before he could open it, his phone rang. The loudness startled him. The caller ID said C&F, Inc.
“Who is this?” asked Raja, suspiciously.
After pulling into the garage of Raja’s building, the truck driver had called the number on the invoice as instructed.
“Craters and Freighters special delivery service. I’ve got a package for Raja Williams. It’s a heavy one. Heaviest I’ve ever seen. I’m going to need you to sign. Down here, in the garage.”
Raja drummed the railing in the elevator impatiently as it slowly descended to the parking garage. He raced to the truck where the driver was backing out a forklift that was straining under its load.
“Where do want this?”
“Over there,” said Raja, pointing to a parking spot.
The forklift nearly tipped over. When the driver set the crate down, a hollow thud echoed through the garage. The vibration it made ran through the concrete floor and up into Raja’s body like an electric shock. His head was throbbing fiercely.
“Oh, this came with it,” said the driver. He shoved a small package the size of a ring box into Raja’s hand. “Sign here,” said the driver, indifferently. “What is that thing?” he added, looking at the crate.
Raja scribbled on the invoice, ignoring the question and never taking his eyes off the four-foot-square crate. Before the driv
er had left the garage, he pulled at the wood with his bare hands, tearing chunks of wood from the crate. Inside was a package covered with festive gift-wrapping paper. The pattern was clowns and balloons.
After ripping off the paper, he saw that the compact block of twisted metal and plastic was a crushed car. Raja leaned close to inspect a piece of sheet metal. Recognition of the titanium silver paint from Vinny’s BMW X6 buckled his knees, knotted his stomach and closed his throat.
He remembered the small box in his right hand and stared at it blankly. Opening the top revealed a small flashdrive. He raced back up to the loft and searched frantically on Vinny’s computer setup for a place to plug it in. Finding a slot on the edge of the screen, he snapped the flashdrive into place. A disc spun on the screen as the drive opened automatically.
A brief video clip showed Vinny inside the BMW looking up, after which the image jerked around a few seconds and then restarted, now focused on a junkyard compacter as it crushed the car inside. Raja could hear glass shattering and metal popping as the machine collapsed the car. Then nothing. The pulsing surge of blood in his temples made Raja’s eyes tear up.
Chapter Thirty-five: All Points Bulletin
After getting the address from Raja, Detective Rafferty sent a squad to check what turned out to be a bogus address at the dead end of an isolated alley in a rundown area of Vernon, a warehouse district in Greater Los Angeles. Most of the buildings there were unoccupied, making it the perfect spot for an abduction with no witnesses.
Every cop in southern California was on high alert for Vinny. The news ran her picture on every local station. If her face showed up anywhere, someone would surely spot her. No one said what everyone was thinking—everyone but Raja—that Vinny was already dead. Despite that, they kept looking. When you have lost hope, you go through the motions and do everything you can because, in some perverse way, when the inevitable end comes, you feel better saying you did everything you could.
Sharon Becker had her forensic team studying the twisted hunk of metal and plastic in Raja’s garage, hunting for any evidence of Vinny on the two-ton cube. There was no sign of blood or DNA on the surfaces, but either might have been trapped inside due to the compressed state the car was in. X-rays were no help through such a tangled mess of steel. Pulling the compacted car apart was the only option. Sharon brought in metal presses and acetylene torches from a local machine shop to pry and cut the block open.
Raja couldn’t bear to watch. He decided to pay someone a visit.
Chapter Thirty-six: Mad As Hell
Upstairs in the loft, Raja searched the computer. He remembered Vinny had told him the governor was staying in LA for the opening and dedication of a new stadium. Where the hell is that address? he thought. Raja opened files until the screen was nearly covered. There. The Millennium Biltmore in downtown LA. That’s where the governor would be.
In ten minutes Raja was on the road, pushing the Ferrari hard. His head throbbed and that only made him more furious. Raja was lucky not to get pulled over, but he didn’t care. It might be better if he did get stopped. He had no idea what he would do when he got there, but he couldn’t let it go.
Raja drove straight into the Biltmore Hotel entrance and screeched to a stop in the valet drop off, ignoring the valet’s attempt to get his attention on his way into the lobby. He scanned carefully until he spotted a couple well-dressed security types walking into the elevator. They had to be with the governor. He knew the hotel staff wouldn’t tell him anything, so he watched until he saw the elevator stop on the number 8. He stepped into a second car and punched 8. Sure enough, as he got out on the 8th floor, the two security men were just entering a suite. They were changing shifts. His timing was perfect. Without knocking, he walked right into the suite. Once inside he called loudly, “Governor Black, where are you? It’s Raja Williams.”
Three security men drew their guns and trained them on Raja.
Raja kept his hands up where they could be seen. “I’m unarmed,” he said, to keep from getting shot. “Come out and face me, you coward.”
The door to a bedroom opened.
“Get back, sir,” ordered the fourth security guard, trying to push the governor back into the bedroom.
“That’s all right, son. Let me be,” said the governor. “I don’t know what you think you are doing, Mr. Williams.”
“I’m giving you a chance to do the right thing. If anything happens to her I will kill you myself,” said Raja.
“Who?”
“You know who.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about, but you better watch what you say,” said the governor.
That was all Raja could take. He rushed forward, only to be tasered by one of the guards. Raja flopped helplessly, and then lay still.
“Get him out of here,” said the governor. “And call the police. I want that man arrested.”
Two security men handcuffed Raja and dragged him roughly out of the governor’s suite.
Chapter Thirty-seven: Slim Is Better Than None
After spending five excruciating hours in the LA County jail, Raja heard a familiar voice.
“How do you like our accommodations?” It was Detective Rafferty.
“What about Vinny?” asked Raja. He could think of nothing else.
“Still nothing definite.”
The fact that nothing had yet been found in the crushed wreckage of the BMW meant Vinny might be alive. Raja was certain he would find Vinny and she would be all right. She had to be. She was Tinkerbell to his Peter Pan—magic and immortal. Nothing could separate them. Nothing would. “Get me out of here,” said Raja.
“Listen up, cowboy. You’re lucky I know the desk sergeant at the Central Division, or you would be in an FBI office by now. You can not threaten to kill a serving governor.”
“Well, I did. And I meant it, too.”
“Keep that to yourself, numb nuts. The officer processing your paperwork is coming.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Detective,” said the officer, handing him a clipboard. “You see who the complainant is.”
“I am aware.” Rafferty signed the release form.
The officer studied his signature.
“Don’t worry, this is all on me,” said Rafferty.
“You bet it is,” said the officer, unlocking the door to the cell. “You are free to go,” he said to Raja.
Raja followed Rafferty, first to get his personal belongings, and then to get outside the station house. At the bottom of the steps, Rafferty turned and confronted him. “You are technically in my custody. I need to know you won’t do anything stupid.”
“You have my word.”
“I need a blood oath.”
“You have a knife?”
“Okay, come on. I’ll take you to the impound lot to get your car.” On the ride to the lot, Raja stared out the window, saying nothing.
“Look, Raja, we will do whatever we have to do to find Vinny. You know that. You need to let us do our jobs.”
“I know.”
Rafferty greased the line to get the Ferrari released from the impound lot, and warned Raja once more about staying away from the governor. He watched the Ferrari drive off. Despite all of Raja’s assurances, Rafferty knew how bad it was to be in Raja’s position. He himself had lost a partner in the line of duty. Although ten years had passed since the tragedy, Rafferty still ran through the events in his head every day, wondering if he could have done something to prevent the outcome.
Raja pulled into the Studio City garage where the forensics team was still working on the wreckage.
“Anything new?” asked Raja, forcing himself to confront the possibility that Vinny was inside the twisted wreckage.
“No sign of anyone inside yet,” offered one of the technicians.
Relieved, Raja went upstairs. He poured himself a scotch and sipped it while he stared at the computer screen he had gotten for Vinny. She had insisted she didn’t need it, but it made
him feel good to give it to her anyway. Now it sat there doing nothing. Just like he was. He felt like smashing the whole thing.
Suddenly a picture flickered on the glass computer screen. Raja jumped up to see what it was. The scene came into focus, showing Vinny strapped into a chair in the middle of a room. Other than a spotlight shining on Vinny, the room was dimly lit. There was dried blood on her nose and lip. Vinny moved. It was a live feed. Raja exhaled instinctively. Vinny was alive.
“I hope joo enjoyed our performance so far,” said a man’s voice from behind the camera. “As joo can see, no one was harmed in the making of dees film—for now. Ha, Ha, Ha. Funny, jes? Joo have ten minutes to call dees number.” The camera settled on a piece of paper with a phone number written on it.
Raja didn’t have time to read it twice before the connection ended. Raja pressed the timer on his watch. He thought he recognized the man’s voice from the video feed. First he called Detective Rafferty at the police station. It went to voice mail.
“Tommy. It’s Raja. I need your help. Vinny is in trouble. Call me. Hurry.” He didn’t need to say more. The panic in his voice would say it all. Then he texted the same message to Tommy’s cell.
Raja looked at his watch—there were only seven minutes left. Damn it. He had to think this one through. What did they want? It had to be something on Vinny’s computer, and most likely the sex tape of the governor and Cherry Long. If that got out in the media, it would end his political career. Raja fumbled with the computer screen trying to locate the file.
Whatever they wanted, Raja knew giving it up would be a death sentence for Vinny. But what choice did he have? He needed a better play. For that he needed to find Vinny.
Three minutes left. How the hell could he do this without Vinny? This was Vinny’s fault. Her and her damn computer crap. She dug too deep this time. Found out too much. How was he supposed to put the genie back in the bottle without getting her killed. Damn you, Vinny.
One minute. He called the number.
The Color of Greed (Raja Williams 1) Page 14