Vengeance is Mine - A Benjamin Tucker Mystery

by Harry James Krebs

  I leaned forward. “No, please tell me. Anything could be important.”

  Awkwardly, she said, “He reminded me of you.”

  My heart began to race. “Really? In what way?”

  “I can’t explain it,” she said.

  “Does he look anything like me?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t see his face.”

  “Did his voice sound like mine?”

  “No. I’m sorry. I just can’t explain it,” she said.

  “Were his mannerisms like mine?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m sorry. It’s just that when I think of him, I think of you. I’m sorry.”

  I tried to reassure her. “No, don’t be sorry. This is important. Plum said when he saw my interview with Sally Briggum, he knew the two of us had a destiny.”

  “Wait right here.” I quickly left the kitchen and got the DVD with the recorded interview from the master sitting room. I returned and started the DVD in the great room.

  “Roberta, bring your coffee and come in here.” She brought both of our cups with her and the two of us sat on the sofa watching the interview.

  I pointed to the TV. “There, did he put his hand on the back of his head like I just did there?”

  “No, not that I remember,” she said.

  “I just laughed there. Did he laugh like me?”

  “He didn’t laugh,” she said

  “What about his smile? Was that like mine?”

  “I didn’t see his face,” she reminded me.

  We finished watching the interview, and I looked to her. “Anything?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m sorry.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck in confusion and slowly shook my head. “What the heck could it be?”

  We watched the interview twice more, but Roberta was unable to see anything that explained why Jack Plum reminded her of me.

  “He was about the same height as you,” she said. “And he walked like you, but there was something else. I’m sorry, Mr. Ben, I just can’t put my finger to it.”

  I smiled and told her not to be sorry.

  Julie had joined us in the great room with a sorrowful look on her face.

  “I’m bored,” she said. “I miss Amanda, and Joanie’s mom won’t let her come over with everything that’s going on.”

  She cheered up when I told her she could help me pick out the new security system.

  “Will it have bars that automatically close, and laser lights that see anything that moves, and robots that go around and shoot bad guys like in the movies?” she asked.

  “I doubt it,” I said. “Besides, in the movies, don’t the robots sometimes turn on the good guys?”

  “Maybe we should stay away from the armed robots,” Julie said.

  Charles Brackus and Angelo DeMatrollo, his chief engineer, arrived shortly before ten o’clock. I introduced them both to Julie. Oscar had heard the doorbell and raced into the foyer wagging frantically with a rubber hamburger squeaker toy in his mouth. Julie bent down and picked him up. “This is our dog, Oscar,” Julie said. “He’s head of security.”

  Brackus smiled and said, “Gee, I’m not sure we’re even needed here with this frightening guard dog.” Oscar cocked his bony little head and wagged faster.

  “I think you’re right, Charles,” Angelo said. “Nothing worse than a Dachshund hanging from your throat.”

  Julie giggled.

  We gave them a brief tour of the main house and then showed them the guesthouse. We did a walk around the entire estate, so they could see what they’d be dealing with. We finished back at the guesthouse kitchen table, and Julie got glasses and the pitcher of lemonade Roberta had left for us in the fridge.

  Angelo spoke first. “There are four two-hundred amp electrical services in the garage of the main house. There’s another two-hundred amp service in the guesthouse. The system only takes a thousand watts, so we have plenty of power. I recommend we cover the outside first, then the main house, and the guesthouse last.”

  Charles Brackus covered the outside. “I suggest we line the front and two sides of the property with eight-foot-high iron security fencing.” He showed us a photo. “As you can see, the tops of the spokes are sharp spikes to deter someone from climbing over, but the appearance still looks attractive. The spikes can be removed with a special tool, so after the main crisis is over, we can come out and replace them with rounded ends. Also, this is intelligent fencing, and what I mean by that is, it has built-in sensors. It will detect if something touches it.”

  He pulled a pad from Angelo’s briefcase and made a crude drawing of the estate perimeter. “Your control panels will have a diagram similar to this with a series of yellow and red LEDs around it. If something comes in contact with the fence, a yellow LED will light.”

  “What if it’s just a leaf?” I asked.

  “The software triggers on a combination of force and time. So a leaf would not exert enough force on the fence to trigger the system. If the force and time exceed a pre-programmed amount, the red LED illuminates, and the system goes into the first stage of alarm.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “There will be a series of high power lights installed around the estate focused in strategic locations,” Charles said. “At the first stage of alarm, these lights will illuminate the area violated, and the system will also provide a soft audible alert to notify anyone in either house of the intrusion. Motion sensors will then determine if someone has truly violated the perimeter, initiating the second stage, which is full alarm. You will still have ten seconds to deactivate the alarm by entering your individual security passcode. Motion sensors will also temporarily trigger the lights to illuminate the area if they detect any motion in the yard. They will turn off again after ten seconds if the motion ceases. The motion sensitivity can be adjusted if a rabbit or a stray cat sets it off.”

  He continued. “The fencing will extend around the front of the property with automatic gates at the driveway. The problem, Mr. Tucker, is the back of the property where it backs up to Sunset Lake. I recommend closing this off with similar fencing and a locked personnel gate.

  Angelo then covered the system for the main house and the guesthouse. It included contact switches at the windows and doors and motion sensors throughout both structures. There would also be motorized security barriers at each window and door that would close if a perimeter violation was detected. Also, the large windows were already tempered glass, so they would shatter if anyone tried to cut them.

  “There will be three control centers,” Angelo said, “one in the master bedroom closet, one on the second floor in the housekeeper’s suite, and one in the guesthouse. Whichever one you enter your security code into becomes the master and the other two become slaves. It will also let you know if someone else is trying to gain control of one of the slaves and will identify who that person is by their passcode.”

  “The entire system is powered by a PPM, a programmable power module with a six hour battery backup. There will be four of these PPMs positioned on the property, but only one controls the system. The software randomly moves the power control from one PPM to another, so no one really knows where the system is getting power at any one time. Since there are four units, the system will operate without main power to the property for almost twenty-four hours.”

  Charles took over. “If the system goes to full alarm, it will notify our monitoring center three different ways: by landline telephone, by wireless telephone, and by email via satellite internet. The center will immediately dispatch our own armed security team to your residence. You will also be contacted to provide us with a special code word of your choice. If it’s a false alarm, the security team will be recalled. If it’s a true alarm, the monitoring center will notify local authorities and the security team already dispatched.”

  We finished discussing final details and then I was given a quote—one hundred fifteen thousand dollars. I swallowed. B
ut I also knew that the type and quantity of iron fencing material required had to be expensive.

  “How soon can you start?” I asked. Julie smiled.

  Charles replied. “We can have system parts flown in overnight, and we can begin the fence installation tomorrow. The whole project will take about ten days.”

  “Do it,” I said.

  CHAPTER 26

  After lunch, I sent Amanda Jane a text message and she called me back almost immediately. She said she was doing fine, but needed some things and gave me a list. I told her I’d be by about one thirty, and hung up.

  Julie helped me pack Amanda Jane’s things and handed me the duffle. “I threw in a few CDs I know she likes,” she said. “That’ll give her something to listen to if she gets bored.”

  “Thanks, Julie. I’ll tell her to give you a call.”

  “Oh, you don’t need to,” Julie said. “We text each other all the time. Even just a few minutes ago.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? What’d she say?”

  “Girl talk, Ben. You wouldn’t get it.” She giggled and went upstairs to do homework.

  Why did she think I wouldn’t get it? It’s not like teenage girls speak a different language. I’d get it—I think.

  I stuck Pure Reason in my belt, grabbed Amanda Jane’s duffle and her violin, and left. Moments later, I was in the Jag pulling out of Cypress Ford Drive onto Sunset Lake Road. The violin sitting next to me made me smile. I wanted to hear my daughter play, but she was very self-conscious and told me I had to wait until she got better. A few times I hid outside Julie’s bedroom when she was practicing. Some of it was awful, but it was the sweetest thing I’d ever heard.

  The drive to Durham took almost forty-five minutes, and I parked in Patty and Bruce’s driveway a few minutes before two o’clock. I’d taken a convoluted route to ensure no one had followed.

  Amanda Jane had been watching for me and opened the door before I knocked. She hugged me so hard it hurt, and I kissed the top of her head. We went inside, and Patty joined us and said hello. It was just the two of them—Patty’s husband, Bruce was at work.

  Both of them were dressed for work, my daughter in blue jeans and a mint green tee shirt and Patty in a gray sweat suit with pink stripes running down the sides of the arms and legs.

  I handed the duffle bag and violin case to my daughter. “I’m not staying, sweetheart. I just wanted you to have your things. And Julie says ‘hey’.”

  “That’s all right,” she said. “I’m in the middle of arranging my room. Thanks, Daddy.” She took her things and ran upstairs.

  I turned back toward Patty just as she slapped me across the face as hard as she could, snapping my head back. “You son of a bitch! It’s all because of you!” she said loudly. She raised her hand to strike me again, but I grabbed her. We struggled momentarily, staring into each other’s eyes. Then I pulled her to me and kissed her hard on the mouth. She pushed away and slapped me again. An instant later, she threw her arms around me and kissed me back, her tongue penetrating deep into my mouth. It was a very long, wet, passionate kiss. I slowly slid my hands down under the back of her pants. She wasn’t wearing any underwear. Finally, she pushed me, backed up, and turned away, shaking her head.

  She stepped back and said, “Well … that was fun.” We stood in confused silence, until she said, “Please leave.”

  I reached out to her. “Patty?”

  She shook her head. “Just leave, Ben.”

  Amanda Jane was standing at the top of the stairs. She had seen the whole thing. I didn’t know how to fix this, so I just turned and walked out the door.

  I got into my car, but I didn’t start it. What the hell just happened? Why did I do that? And why did she kiss me back like that? I know there can be a fine line between hatred and passion. Nausea overcame me. I was driven by worry that my inner demons were about to take over—again. It was the same loss of control feeling I’d had years earlier after Christine’s murder. Get a grip, Ben.

  As I drove off, I heard Netter’s words in my head. “I’ve seen some stupid bastards in my time, but you take the cake!”

  Two blocks away my cell phone buzzed. It was a text message from Amanda Jane. I pulled over to read it, “????”

  I texted back, “ADLTS CN B SCRU E 2”

  “ILY”

  “ILY2”

  Back at the estate, the vehicles of Maggie’s guests were gone. After parking the Jag in the guesthouse garage, I grabbed Pure Reason and headed to the main house. The back door was unlocked, and I entered shaking my head.

  “Ya know, you guys need to keep these doors locked,” I said. There was no response. “Hello? Where is everybody?” Still no response. There was also no sign of Oscar, who usually met me at the door. I walked to the study. It was empty, but Maggie’s laptop was there with its charger plugged in, and the entire desk and the armchairs were covered with neatly organized papers.

  I continued to the front door, thumbed the latch, and it opened. My blood ran cold. I pulled Pure Reason, spun around, and listened, but there was no sound. I walked back to the laundry room. The door was closed, but Oscar was inside sniffing at the bottom of the closed door. I opened the garage door slowly and peered inside. Maggie’s Bentley and Henry’s BMW were there, but the Escalade was gone. I closed the door and let Oscar out of the laundry. He tore across the great room and stopped at the foot of the stairs. He froze as he tilted his head, looked up the stairs and listened.

  I picked him up, put him back in the laundry room, and returned to the stairs. I listened closely, but heard nothing. With Pure Reason pointed at the top of the stairs, and my back against the wall, I slowly crept up, one step at a time. My heart was racing when I reached the top. There was a clear view of the upstairs family room—nothing there. I stopped in front of Roberta’s door, but there was no sound. I slowly opened the door and looked inside—nothing. Julie’s room was next. My eyes were wide open, and I was terrified of what I might find behind that door.

  Faint sounds could be heard from inside—Julie gasping for air. I burst through the door with the gun raised.

  The young man on top of Julie jumped up with his hands raised in front of him.

  “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” he yelled. I turned to Julie who was pulling down the bottom of her shirt. She was white as a ghost, her eyes huge.

  “Don’t shoot him, Ben!” she yelled. I kept the gun on the young man.

  “What the hell’s going on here?” I shouted. “Who is this guy?”

  “I’m her boyfriend, Bill Weatherly,” he said.

  I glared at him. “You shut the fuck up!” I turned back to Julie who was now standing.

  “Yes, Ben. He’s my boyfriend.”

  “No, he’s not!” I said shaking my head.

  The young man walked over and put his arms around Julie. I lowered my weapon. “You don’t understand, sir. I really am Julie’s boyfriend.”

  “No, you’re the one who doesn’t understand,” I said. “She’s only fourteen years old. And I’m telling you, she doesn’t have a boyfriend!”

  “Where is everyone?” I asked Julie.

  “Mom and Roberta went grocery shopping, and then Mom’s having her hair done. Grandma’s downstairs sleeping. I think she had another one of her nights. Anyway, I called Bill and invited him over.”

  I pulled out my cell phone, held it up, and pressed a button. I stood and looked at it.

  “What did you do?” Julie asked.

  “I took a picture of the two of you in your bedroom.” I looked closely at the screen. “It’s a pretty good shot, except for the fact that Bill here has his hands all over you.”

  Julie had recovered and said boldly, “Look, I know you, Ben. And I know you’re not going to show that to Mom.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “I’m not going to show it to your mom. I’m going to show it to Roberta.” A look of panic spread over her face.

  She quickly turned to Bill. “You have to go.”

/>   Bill let go of Julie. “It’s the housekeeper!” he said. “What’s the big deal?”

  I looked at Bill and laughed. “She’s going to make mincemeat out of you.”

  Julie grabbed Bill’s jacket and pushed it at him. “You have to go!” she said. “Please, you have to go now!”

  Puzzled, Bill quickly put on his jacket and left. Julie stood there and challenged me.

  “You have no right to barge in here like that, Ben! You’re not my real father!”

  I nodded. “Maybe so. But I’m the closest thing you’ve got, kiddo, so deal with it. And don’t think for a minute that I didn’t see his hands under your shirt. Ya know, it’s not that Bill was over here that burns me,” I pointed toward the stairs, “it’s that you left the doors unlocked downstairs. You know what’s been going on here. Our police security team won’t be here for another five hours. Jack Plum could’ve just waltzed right in and killed you and your grandmother—who, by the way, is downstairs asleep and completely vulnerable. Not to mention I could’ve shot that kid. I’m really disappointed in you.”

  I continued. “Now, if you want Bill to come over and visit, you first okay it with your mom and me. Then we’ll call his parents to see if it’s okay with them. That’s the way it’s going to work. There’s no negotiation here.”

  “Are you really going to tell Roberta?” she asked. “What are you going to do with that picture?”

  “This isn’t going any further if it doesn’t have to. So, no, I’m not going to tell Roberta or anyone else unless I have to. But I’m keeping the picture for leverage.”

  “That’s blackmail!” Julie screamed.

  “Yep.” I turned and walked out. I could feel her eyes burning holes into me.

  She yelled, “I hate you, Ben Tucker!” as I closed her door. Something crashed against it. I walked away and smiled to myself as my step-daughter pitched a fit.

  After ensuring all the doors and windows were locked, I rescued Oscar from the laundry room, and we headed out to the guesthouse.

  I needed to concentrate on the Jack Plum investigation, but I was stalled. My frustration mounted as I spent the afternoon reviewing my new reference books, looking for some possible insight into the psyche of Plum. But no new theories emerged.