In that case, he’d call Cathy Kennedy on a burner phone and tell her he was with Sweetwater Mall Security and that they had video evidence of a Belton’s employees stealing jewelry from the store. He’d mention Maggie’s name. He’d tell Cathy to come to his mall offices and he’d show her the video. Then, when she left home in her car, he’d follow and call again, saying they had just learned that Maggie planned to sell the stolen jewelry to a fence. They were going to meet in a local park. He’d name the park and offer to meet Cathy there, so they could catch Maggie in the act. He had no doubt Cathy Kennedy would comply. Once she was in the park, he’d snatch her.
As Ace sat in the car running these scenarios in his mind, he saw a late model black Cadillac drive by and turn right at the corner. Within a few minutes, it came by again. Ace glanced quickly to his right and saw the profile of a black man. He recognized him as Jemmy Shoemaker, the giant head of security at The Wheel! The Cadillac continued to the end of the block and parallel parked.
Ace quickly jumped to the conclusion that Richey had called on his friend Marshon Johnson for help instead of calling the cops. Marshon, who has his own troubles with the law, according to the television news, did this favor in return for … what? A place to hide? Richey’s help in getting out of town? Why was Marshon hanging around, anyway? Then, an outrageous but plausible thought occurred to Ace: they might have decided to let him go ahead with the kidnapping and try to seize the ransom money! That would explain Marshon’s interest. If so, Ace was about to throw a monkey wrench into their plans.
He got out of the Rogue and quietly closed the door. There was dry thunder in the western sky, but it hadn’t started to rain yet. He put on dark sunglasses and pulled the security cap low on his forehead. He’d shoved his ponytail under the hatband. He pulled one of the knives from its scabbard and held it with his left hand, which he kept close to his hip and leg, so it couldn’t be easily seen. Ace had a sudden adrenaline rush. He walked down the sidewalk, keeping his head down and using the trees near the street for cover in case the nigger checked his side mirrors. When he was abreast of the Cadillac, Ace moved quickly to the driver’s door, but stood upright and didn’t bend over so that Shoemaker could see his face. He stood slightly sideways, hiding his left hand. Ace rapped on the window glass with his right knuckles.
As the window lowered, Ace said, “I was on my way to work and saw you sitting here. Can I help you with something? You broke down, sir?” As he’d hoped, Shoemaker stuck his head farther out the window, craning his neck to look up at the security guard. In a lightning quick motion, Ace thrust the blade into the left side of Shoemaker’s throat, slicing right through his carotid artery. Ace jumped backward to avoid an arcing spray of blood.
Shoemaker looked horrified. His hands reflexively reached for his throat, clawing. He tried to shout, but no sound came out of his throat. Ace reached through the open window and pushed Shoemaker onto his side. He leaned in and stabbed Shoemaker several more times in the chest, stomach and side. He went through Jemmy’s pockets and found a cell phone. He wiped the bloody blade on the dead man’s shirt, and put it back in its holster. He rolled up the window and shut the car door.
Ace looked around and saw no one, although a neighbor could be looking out the window — just as a fisherman apparently had been watching when he drove Hank Hendricks’s car into the lake. Such were the risks of crime. While walking back to the Rogue, Ace decided to speed things up. He drove to the back of the Kennedy estate and parked on the sidewalk within inches of the brick wall. Tall Rose of Sharon bushes on the opposite side of the street blocked the neighbor’s view from that direction.
Ace climbed on top of the car, eyeing a huge oak tree whose branches extended over the wall. A two-inch thick concrete slab topped the seven-foot high brick wall. Embedded in the concrete every ten feet or so were silver boxes that relayed an electronic security beam. Ace put his right foot on the edge of the slab and propelled himself upward and outward, grasping the tree limb with both hands.
Ace wrapped his legs around the limb and worked his way over the beam and the wall. He then dropped to the ground, crouched and ran toward the house and the three-car, attached garage. The garage doors opened onto a winding driveway leading from the mansion on top of the hill down through a dip in the expansive front yard, and up again to the gate opening onto the street. Ace hid in the bushes at one side of the garage. He looked at his watch. It was 8:33 a.m.
Just as he prepared to open the side door leading into the garage by jimmying it with a knife blade, the screw-driven garage door opener began to crank up one of the doors. Ace peeked around the corner of the garage to watch as the silver Lexus headed out and down toward the street. Then the garage door began to close. Ace immediately moved to the front of the garage, dropped to the pavement and rolled under the door when it was about three feet from the ground.
He got to his feet and saw that there were still two cars in the garage: the Mercedes coupe that Cathy drove and an antique roadster. He smelled engine exhaust gases.
Ace walked to the door leading into the house. He tried the door handle but found it locked. He knocked on the door and waited.
A maid answered Ace’s knock by opening the door. He grabbed her arm and jerked her into the garage, clamping a hand over her mouth before she could scream. He whispered in her ear, “Anyone else inside the house except Mrs. Kennedy?”
She shook her head. He could feel her entire body tremble.
“Tell her to come here,” he said, holding the blade in front of her face. “Say anything else and I’ll cut your throat.”
“Mrs. Kennedy, would you please come into the garage?” the maid asked, her voice cracking.
Ace snapped the maid’s neck and she fell to the floor like a broken doll. He listened to the clicking sound of approaching high heels. As soon as Cathy Kennedy opened the door, Ace grabbed her by the throat and pulled her into the garage.
He nodded at the maid on the garage floor. “Do what I say or you’ll wind up like that.”
He loosened his grip and she asked, hoarsely, “What do you want?”
“We’re going for a drive. Let’s go into the house and get your purse and car keys.”
“I’ll give you all the money I have. Jewelry, too. Take the car. Just don’t hurt me.”
He shoved her ahead of him inside the house. She was about forty, he guessed; tall and leggy with substantial breasts and thin hips. She had on a cream-colored two-piece suit, pearl necklace and matching earrings, as well as several rings and an expensive-looking, diamond-studded bracelet.
“Where’d your husband go just now?”
“To work,” she said, her hands shaking violently.
Ace walked her down the hallway to a juncture where he could see into a living room on one side and a dining room on the other. They were large, well-lit rooms expensively furnished. Ace ground his teeth and snarled. He was becoming enraged, just as he had the day he and Country first drove by the Kennedy estate.
“Where were you going so early?” he asked.
“I planned to meet friends in the Plaza for brunch and then go shopping. They’ll be alarmed if I don’t show up. They may call the police.”
“Really,” he said, laughing. “Let’s go.”
She took her purse from a hallway table and they returned to the garage. Ace gagged her with a handkerchief and cuffed her hands behind her back. He opened the truck of the Mercedes, picked her up and put her inside. He squeezed her breast with one hand and put the other hand up her skirt. He tore a hole in her pantyhose at the crotch level. He licked her face as he penetrated her with a finger. “You make any noise, Cathy, and you’ll be real sorry. Keep quiet and cooperate, and nothing will happen to you that you can’t recover from.”
Ace sat behind the steering wheel of the Mercedes and checked out all the dashboard gadgets. An electronic transmitter attached to the sunshield. He pressed the “garage” button and the door began to open again. He backed out t
he car, closed the garage door, and drove down the hill, appreciating the excellent German workmanship. He pressed the “gate” button and the driveway gate swung open, inviting him to the street.
Ace drove carefully, not wanting the cops to stop him for a traffic offense. However, the drive to the motel proved uneventful, so much so that Ace made an improvised call on Jemmy Shoemaker’s cell phone. Called the metropolitan police division, in fact, and was switched around several times before talking to Detective Victor Marconi.
“I be a friend of Jemmy Shoemaker,” Ace said, lapsing into his Chicago South Side street dialect. “Guess you know him? Friend of Marshon Johnson.”
“Yeah?”
“Jemmy was my friend until that muthafucker Marshon Johnson kilt him dis mornin’.”
“You know where Marshon Johnson is?”
“He and this white dude, Richey Stanton, kidnapped a woman by the name of Cathy Kennedy from her house south of Tremont Plaza, near the country club. Jemmy and me was da lookouts, but they tried to cut us out of the action, you understan’? I got away. You’ll find Jemmy’s dead body in his Caddy parked near the Dadeworth Country Club. Marshon and Stanton, they was driving a red Nissan Rogue.”
“Who is this?”
“Like I said, a friend of Jemmy’s.” Ace disconnected and called Richey’s cell phone, a number he’d purloined at The Stadium, when Richey left his smart phone laying on the bar when he went to the restroom. That’s how he acquired Carmen’s phone number, also.
The wannabe actor grabbed the phone on the first ring. “Listen up, Richey. I got Cathy Kennedy now, too.”
“I want to talk with Carmen,” Richey said.
“She’s not with me right now, buddy, but you will talk to her in about a half hour. You should also know I just called the police and told them you and Marshon Johnson kidnapped Cathy Kennedy. I figure Marshon’s with you, right? You two sent Jemmy Shoemaker to take me out, but that little plan backfired.”
“What do you mean?”
Ace smiled at the terror he detected in Richey’s phone voice. “I mean I fuckin’ killed The Black Hulk and the cops are on their way right now to Kennedy’s house and your place. You best get on the road, motherfucker! I also suggest you get a different car, but hold onto your cell phone for another hour and I’ll let you talk to Carmen. You do as I say and I’ll return her unfucked.”
Ace then tossed Jemmy Shoemaker’s cell phone out the window.
∞ ∞ ∞
As soon as Ace left the motel room, Carmen began thinking of a way to get free now that only Country guarded her. She needed to get to her purse hanging over the back of a chair. When they’d arrived at the motel last night, Ace got out the driver’s side and walked around to the back of the car. She’d quickly kicked off her high heels, turned her body sideways, angled her foot, and nudged the blue gun case out from under the seat, so that it lay beside her purse.
Instinctively, she didn’t say anything to Ace when he opened the door and pulled her out. Once inside the room, Ace told Country to get her purse and shoes out of the car. When Country came back inside, Carmen couldn’t believe her eyes. He’d stuck the gun case inside her oversized handbag, so only the tip of the case showed. Maybe because of its light blue color, and triangular shape, they thought it was a makeup case.
Carmen now watched as Country used a hacksaw on the barrel of a shotgun, stopping periodically to stuff miniature donuts into his mouth.
“I wish I didn’t hafta do this,” Country whined. “This twelve gauge belonged to my Grandpappy, and he’d skin me alive if he knew I did this to his favorite shotgun. It’s an Ithaca.” He’d pronounced the manufacturer’s name as if it were three words. “But, Ace said I hadda.”
“Country, can you give me my handbag hanging there on the chair. It’s my ladies time of the month and I need to get some tampons. Please.”
Country stopped sawing and mulled over her request. “No, ma’am. Ace told me not to untie you again for any reason. I always obey orders, you know. Just like I was in the army.”
“I could insert the tampons right here on the bed,” Carmen countered. “Don’t you want to watch, Country. Have you ever seen a woman put in a tampon? I’m sure it would be very exciting for you.”
Country scratched his head. “No, Rhonda has a ladies’ time of the month, too, but she don’t let me watch. Besides, blood makes me sick.”
Carmen switched tactics. “Look, untie me and I’ll get some nice-smelling perfume from my bag so I’ll smell real good when you fuck me. Okay, Country? You said you wanted to fuck me, didn’t you?”
“Ace said we’d fuck you later, Carmen, when he gets back.”
“I can’t wait,” she said, trying to sound thrilled and not sarcastic.
“Ace says all women really want it, Carmen, even when they say no.”
“Do you believe everything he says?”
Country looked startled. “Yeah, why?”
“Can’t you think for yourself? You’re not his slave, you know.”
“Only niggers are slaves. Ace said so. I’m his best buddy and he’s gonna get me a bunch of money so I can buy a camper and a boat. Maybe even a cabin down home. We’re gonna be rich later on today.”
“I’ve been good to you, haven’t I, Country? All the times we’ve been together at The Stadium.”
“I guess so,” he replied, suspiciously.
“In fact, I’ve always had a thing for you, Country. You’re so big and strong.” She nodded at him. “I bet you got a big dick, don’t you.”
He performed his hiccupping laugh. “Yeah, I do. That’s what my girlfriend Rhonda says.”
“Well, let’s see it,” Carmen said, swallowing hard. Carmen knew her ploy could completely backfire, and result in her being raped. But, she couldn’t think of any other way to get free.
“I dunno. Ace might not like that.”
“He told you not to fuck me while he was gone?”
“That’s right.”
“Okay, but he didn’t say anything about a blow job, right? That wouldn’t be disobeying his orders. I’m really want you, Country.” She tried to smile, but it came off sickly.
Country stood, clearly excited. He laid the shotgun and saw on Ace’s bed. “You’re right, Carmen. Ace didn’t say you couldn’t suck my dick.”
“Untie my hands, Country, and I’ll give you the best head you ever had. When’s the last time someone sucked your dick, Country?”
He rubbed his chin in contemplation. “Well, I don’t remember, Carmen. Most women don’t like to do that to me unless I make ʼem, like Ace said I could do.”
“Well, I’ll do it gladly, Country. Just untie my hands and let me go to the bathroom first.”
Country struggled with the decision. “Nope. Ace said I shouldn’t untie your hands, and he said I couldn’t fuck you. But he didn’t say nothin’ about me stickin’ my dick in your mouth while you was tied up, did he, Carmen? You want to give me a blow job, I’ll let you.”
She watched in horror as he took off his jeans and undershorts and began stimulating himself. Then he walked close to her and tried to insert it into her mouth. She clenched her teeth tightly shut and jerked her head from side to side, which infuriated him.
“You said you’d suck my dick, Carmen!”
“Only if you untie me first!”
He began banging her head against the wall in an effort to force open her mouth. She hoped the noise would cause people in the next room to call the front desk, or the cops. Then, Carmen realized she was in the last room; no one could hear the noise!
Country gave up his effort to force himself into her and masturbated until he ejaculated into her hair. Carmen kept her head down, crying softly. She’d failed and now he wasn’t interested in sex. Like a good soldier, Country wouldn’t untie her for any reason.
Nevertheless, over the next hour, she tried other approaches, including asking him to call Richey and Marisa, and tell them she was okay. She asked if she could s
peak to his girlfriend, Rhonda, but he refused. He did finish sawing off the shotgun barrel, so only about four inches remained.
“The courts will find you guilty of killing Hank Hendricks and Melvin Lucas,” she said, desperately. “They’ll execute you.”
“Ace said that don’t make no difference.”
Carmen even threatened to tell his Grandpappy later that he’d mutilated the Ithaca. Nothing worked. Meanwhile, her handbag with the gun in it hung on the back of a chair.
∞ ∞ ∞
At the motel, Ace backed the Mercedes into a space directly in front of the door to his room. Three doors down, a man hefted a suitcase into the trunk of an old Chevrolet Caprice, a big car with a big trunk. The door to the man’s room was open. No one else was around. Again, Ace improvised to take advantage of this serendipitous situation.
“Yo’, mister, let me ask you somethin’!” Ace said, walking briskly toward the man, keeping his knife hand behind his back. No one else was outside.
“How can I help you?” the man in the suit said.
“I’m security for the motel. You see anyone suspicious last night? We had reports of several car burglaries.”
“I didn’t see or hear anyone.”
“You already checked out?”
“Yeah, why?”
Ace knifed him under the ribs and shoved him into the large trunk. He took out the suitcase and set it on the sidewalk. The guy was still moving, so Ace stabbed him in the heart twice and pushed him as deep into the trunk as possible. Then, he put the man’s suitcase back into his room and shut the door. When the maids found it, they’d take it to the office, thinking the guest simply had forgotten it.
Ace took the car keys from the trunk lock and slammed the lid shut. He started the Caprice and backed it into a space next to the Mercedes, so that the trunk was directly in front of the door to the room where Country had slept last night.
He knocked on the motel room door and Country opened it.
“Come with me,” Ace said, shutting the motel door. He went into his end room, took a blanket from the bed, opened his door and stepped outside. Ace looked around before opening the trunk of the Mercedes. He picked up a purse, turned and tossed it to Country. Then Ace leaned into the trunk and wrapped the blanket around Cathy Kennedy, forcing her knees up to her chest, so he could bring all four ends of the blanket together. Grasping the four ends with one hand, he stood up and looked around. Seeing no one, he jerked his bundle out of the trunk. Two quick steps and he was inside the motel room. He dumped Cathy Kennedy onto the floor.
The Money Game Page 41