by Brian Meeks
He slammed the phone onto the receiver and crawled across his bedroom floor. He lay prone near the clothes hamper and stared at the battle taking place in the outer room. If he could just get to the couch, he would be safe. It wasn’t just about him, he needed to get Johnson and McNulty to safety too, he screamed, “Where is the goddamn medic?”
The lieutenant lay sprawled in the mud and thought about his girl back home. She had red hair. Her smile was the reason he was fighting. It was the smiles of all the gals back home that kept him crawling through the mud. He thought about McNulty’s girl, too. She was a black-haired spitfire who sang at the local VA. He wasn’t sure if she was really McNulty’s girl, but he sure did look at her picture a lot. He screamed again for the medic and pulled McNulty to his chest. “Hang in there, buddy, you got that gal waiting for you back home. What’s her name?”
McNulty didn’t answer. The lieutenant watched the light go out in his eyes and felt McNulty’s life soaking through his shirt. The crack of anti-aircraft guns and the sirens meant that there might be an opening. He needed to think about saving the rest of the men. He saw Johnson go down. The medic was nowhere to be seen.
The sweat poured down the lieutenant’s face. Suddenly, the shelling stopped. He was still by the hamper and flopped on his back. His right hand clutched the envelope. The lieutenant wiped the sweat from his forehead with a towel from the hamper. That was a bad one, he thought, “I pray to God we end this damn war soon”.
A fly landed on the edge of the hamper and decided better of hanging around. The lieutenant didn’t blame him. Back on the edge of the bed, he pulled off his shirt and thought of the mission. To get to the objective, he would need a car. Manhattan had lots of cars. He would pick something discreet.
He dressed in dark clothes and grabbed his bag. The car would be easy.
Now that it was dark, the crazy heat had become the mildly disturbed heat. It wasn’t really comfortable out, and he had begun to sweat again. Still, having the window down with the air on his face, helped him stay focused.
The drive did him some good. When he finally turned onto the street, a surge of confidence overcame him, and, without braking, he identified the address on the pillar of the gate. The area was heavily wooded. It was easy to find a place to hide the car.
CHAPTER 32
Associate 3 was driving. When he rounded the bend in the road, he was surprised to see the spot taken. “What the hell?”
“Keep going.”
It was another three quarters of a mile before they found a similar spot. “We’re going to be late,” 3 said while looking at his watch.
“We’re going to be very late. I want to get a look at that car.”
Neither man believed in coincidences and had been taught paranoia by a master. In both their minds, the most logical conclusion was that someone was being set up. They reached the car and checked the registration. Nothing out of the ordinary. They both agreed it was unlikely that Mr. Rubenstein of 201 East 23rd Street was hiding in the woods waiting for them. The car was stolen.
“You think Mr. Palmeroy has hired a hitter?” 3 asked.
“It’s a possibility, but why would he need to park out here? I’m sure there are plenty of spots inside the gate.”
“Maybe the shooter or shooters are worried about the estate guards getting in the way.”
“That’s reasonable. He probably wouldn’t tell his staff he was planning to kill two people.”
They walked from the car towards the south gate. Neither man talked much or suggested they bail on the meeting. They were both trained to deal with death and were better at it than the finest military people in the world. If Mr. Palmeroy had hired someone to take them out, the person was going to be in for a surprise.
The south gate wasn’t usually used unless the groundskeepers needed to bring in something large. A man, smoking and sitting on a stool next to a wheelbarrow, stood when they approached.
“You the two guys Mr. Palmeroy asked me to wait for?”
“Who are you?”
“Groundskeeper, not that it should matter. You want me to let you in or what?”
They nodded, both keeping their eyes on the wheelbarrow. It was the perfect place to stash a gun. Once the gate was open, associate 2 and 3 separated and got between the man and his gun. Associate 2 looked. The ‘gun’ was a potted plant though he felt around it just to be sure. It was nearly pitch dark by the gate.
The groundskeeper thought it strange that the man was poking about in his wheelbarrow, but he didn’t really care. He just wanted to get back to the beer waiting for him. “If you wait here, I’ll let him know you’ve arrived.”
The man left his wheelbarrow and walked up the hill towards the house. Associate 2 said, “Let’s move over to the tree line just in case.”
They were nearly invisible with the thicket behind them. It was much too dense for someone to come up from behind, so it provided a measure of security, and the gate was still open. Associate 3 took out a cigarette, but one look from 2, and he put it away. They both jumped when they heard the crack of a twig. Guns drawn they crouched and stared into the darkness. Nothing happened. Thirty seconds passed, and still there was only silence.
An owl, who wasn’t at all interested in the two men, gave a hoot and flew away. Lesser trained men would have turned and fired at the giant bird out of reflex, but 2 and 3 just took a breath and let their hearts start up again. “Damn bird,” said Associate 3.
“Scared the shit out of me, too. Still, I don’t think it was a bird we heard.”
Associate 2 never assumed it was safe. In fact, 2 was correct, it wasn’t the owl they had heard.
* * *
The lieutenant was finding the forest to be more of a challenge than he expected and had been meandering through the woods for 45 minutes. He wasn't sure if he was still heading in the direction of the house. He was being careful, but he stumbled briefly and snapped a fallen branch in half. It sounded like a gunshot. He froze.
The lieutenant held his breath for almost a minute. He wasn't worried about someone hearing; he was worried about lapsing into a delusional state. If he lost hold of reality, it could be bad in many ways. He could die or, worse, not complete his mission. He imagined getting trapped in the war inside his head. Alone, in the woods, and heavily armed, it wouldn't end well. The innocent victims were weighing heavier and heavier on his mind.
The fog of war and its ghosts left him alone. He continued on. Then suddenly there was a path. It wasn't much of a path, but it led somewhere, so he followed it. It stopped at a lake. In the moonlight he could see a small clearing on the other side. He turned around and headed back down the path until he saw a small shack. It was dark, but the tools leaning up against it had fresh mud on them, so he knew it wasn't abandoned. It was probably the gardener's shack. He doubted anyone lived there. Since he couldn't be sure, he moved on. The moon wasn't a help in the woods, but his eyes adjusted, and he quickly made it to a gate in the stone wall. From there, he could see the house. It was lit up, and it bathed the lawn in a warm glow. Still, some sections were dark. It would be easy to approach without being seen.
He followed the wall to his left. At the north end of the estate, he made his way up the lawn. He hadn't heard any barking. His pistol, with the silencer, was ready if necessary. The lieutenant was relieved he hadn’t run across any dogs. He liked dogs, sometimes more than people.
CHAPTER 33
Mike sat in a booth tired of thinking. He couldn’t find his friend, didn’t know why someone was on a killing spree, and felt sure that if he didn’t get some answers soon, he would regret it for the rest of his life.
It was quiet in the bar. He ordered a cheeseburger, some fries, and a Coke. He was still on the job, so beer would have to wait. The waitress was short, blonde, cute, and of no interest to Mike. He didn’t notice her flirting with him. What he did notice was his surroundings. He still felt a little overwhelmed by his promotion to detective. Though everyone th
ought he was doing a great job, he was unsure.
One of Mike’s strong suits was noticing and remembering details. Still, he practiced to get better. He closed his eyes and visualized his surroundings. He had not been in Shorty’s Bar and Grill before, but, in just a few moments, had noticed the lattice work on the ceiling and brick walls on both sides with the bottom half covered in dark wood paneling. The booth was black, had salt and pepper in a shiny metal rack, and a heart carved into one end of the table. He couldn’t remember who loved whom in the heart. Mike opened his eyes to see it was Bobby who loved Lisa. It hadn’t helped. His mind went back to Henry.
The cute blonde brought his cheeseburger. It was massive, which generally would have made Mike very happy, but he just picked at it.
It had been painful, but he had managed to ask the fallen officer’s widow if she knew of any connection between her husband and the other two victims. She had mostly wept, but the head shakes told him what he expected. There wasn’t any connection...well, except that Henry Wood had been in close proximity to all three murders. The most disturbing part was the stuff left at the crime scenes. What did it mean? He had questions to ask, and he couldn’t find the person who might have a chance of answering.
The voice in Mike’s head tried to get him to think of something else. “Hey, how many people are in the bar?” the voice asked. Mike didn’t even have to look up. He thought, “There are five people: the bartender, the waitress, a man at the bar, and a couple sitting two booths behind me.”
The voice replied, “That’s correct...unless you count yourself. Then it’s six.”
Mike didn’t like the voice’s smart-alecky attitude, so he ignored it. He ignored it so thoroughly that he didn’t notice the other voice speaking to him.
“Mike, I’m glad I found you.”
“Oh, Hey, how are you?” He realized he was talking with the beat cop he had asked to keep an eye on Henry’s building. “Sorry, I was thinking about...it doesn’t matter. Did Henry come back?”
“No, but you said you wanna know if anything hinky happened. I’m not sure if it qualifies, but there was this guy, some sort of plumber, who was just hanging out on the back stairs.”
Mike pushed the burger away and fished out a few bills and dropped them on the table. “Let’s go. You can tell me all about it on the way.”
“There isn’t much to tell, and I was sort of headed home.”
“Home can wait a few minutes. Walk with me. You have a car?”
“Subway.”
“Okay, I’ll walk you to your stop.”
The young man tried to recall every detail of the conversation and the man on the stairs. Mike grabbed a cab and was at Henry’s place in under five minutes. Henry wasn’t home, so he decided to ask the neighbors. He knocked on the door across the hall.
The door opened a little and tiny eyes peered out. A woman looked up at Mike. “May I help you, young man?”
“I’m a friend of Henry’s,” he said, showing his badge. “Have you seen him today?”
“Oh, that Henry is such a nice boy. He’s a private detective you know,” she giggled to herself. “Of course, you know, you’re his friend. He doesn’t socialize with the rest of the building much, but he has always helped me when I needed something fixed. He’s very handy,” she said, gasping, “Look at my manners...please, come in, let me get the chain.”
The little woman opened the door and showed Mike to the couch. “I’ll put on some tea.”
She had overwhelmed him with kindness and Mike was caught a little off guard. He didn’t really want to have a tea party, but he wasn’t about to refuse her kind offer, either. “Henry is helping me with a case.”
“Is he? I’m not surprised. He worked on the big gangster case earlier this year. He is so clever.”
“Yes, he is. What I wanted to ask you is if anyone has been by to see him today?”
“Nope. I’d know, too. The walls are paper thin. Not that I’m a snoop or gossip, but it’s hard not to hear.”
“I understand,” he said smiling. “So nothing out of the ordinary today?”
“I didn’t say that. I said that nobody had come to see him today, but you are my second visitor today. That is quite unusual.”
She said it matter-of-factly, but Mike couldn’t help but feel sorry for the woman. “Really? Who was your other visitor?”
“I don’t know his name. I’m getting old and don’t remember stuff like that very well. He was a plumber. I know that because he had the wrong apartment.”
“What apartment was he looking for?”
She thrust her thumb in the air. “He wanted the place upstairs. I think it’s the Lowenstein’s apartment. He said he was off by one floor. I remember that much.”
Mike wanted to run out the door and up the stairs, but he instead sat and had tea with Henry’s neighbor. They discussed her extensive porcelain cat collection, and he met her Siamese cat, Mr. Wiggles. After two cookies, Mike finally got up the nerve to leave. He thanked her profusely and promised he would say ”hello” to Henry when he saw him. She said he could visit anytime.
Mike found the Lowenstein apartment and confirmed that they had not called a plumber. Just to be sure, he talked with everyone on the floor. Nobody had a leak. He left and went back to the precinct. It was going to be another long night.
CHAPTER 34
Associate 2 moved along the edge of the tree line and was quickly out of sight of his partner. Near the wall by the south gate Associate 3 remained with his back resting against the cool flat stone. The day’s oppressive heat had given little back at sunset, but he was a professional and stood alert. His eyes looked out over the expanse of lawn towards the house while his ears listened for the sound of anything unfamiliar.
A silhouette appeared from the house but headed off in a different direction. A moment later, a larger, slower moving man emerged and walked towards the gate. Associate 3 tapped his heel against the wall twice. Associate 2 appeared at about the same time as Mr. Palmeroy.
“Good evening, sir,” said 2.
Mr. Palmeroy was always nervous when talking with the associates and tonight was no exception. “You’re late,” he accused.
“Who is parked down the road?”
The question threw Dwight. He said, “I have no idea what you are talking about. Can we please get on with this? I have guests. “
“If you recall, you called us,” said 2 with an icy calm. Associate 3 didn’t speak but instead kept an eye and ear open for trouble.
“Yes, that’s more like it, straight to the point. Okay, I don’t need to explain the problem, but I can give you a solution.”
“It’s your problem, but if we can help…what is your solution?”
“I have just finished dinner with my guests. At dinner I explained that I have created a surprise for them this weekend,” Dwight said, pausing for effect. The theatrics didn’t play well. He continued with less flair, “I have written a little murder mystery. One of the guests, some time tomorrow, will be murdered. I have invited Henry Wood here under false pretenses to have a real detective work on the case. The other guests will try to solve the mystery. Each of them will have instructions…”
“We don’t care. What’s your plan?”
“I want you to kill Henry Wood and his assistant. I’ll get them away from the house; you take care of them and get rid of the bodies. I’ll make sure it’s in the late afternoon. When they don’t show up, I’ll regrettably inform the other guests that he was called away on a real case or something like that,” he said, waving his hand casually in the air.
2 and 3 looked at each other. They suppressed their urge to call Mr. Palmeroy an idiot. 2 looked back at the old man and said, “We understand. We’ll be nearby though you won’t be able to contact us. It will be good to close the book on this one.”
Dwight started to shake their hands but thought better of it. He turned and went back up to the house. Neither associate moved nor spoke until he was inside.
They walked through the gate and 3 said, “It isn’t very well thought out.”
“No it’s not, but we have our instructions…we are to put an end to this problem…in the best way we see fit.”
“And his plan is the best way?”
“Right now, I don’t know. We have less than a day to answer that question, but I’m sure we can give it some thought and the truth of the matter will become clear.”
“You sound like the director.”
Associate 2 chuckled. “Was that a compliment or a shot?”
“Yes, it was.”
CHAPTER 35
Celine smiled. “That was such a wonderful dessert. What’s it called?”
Catherine answered, “Tiramisu.”
“If it were a man, I’d marry it.”
Catherine laughed. “That’s how Dwight won me over.”Henry had wandered over to the ladies. A quartet was playing. With a 20 year old scotch in his hand he said, “This is quite a party you throw Catherine.”
Celine was still worried about Henry’s disposition after he learned he’d been brought here under false pretenses. “This is just what I needed.” She had a smile on and saw Henry relax.
“I hope you aren’t too sore at me, Henry,” Catherine said, batting her eyes.
“The scotch helps. I have to admit, it’s the most pleasant job I’ve ever had.” Henry knew it really was the sort of weekend Celine needed. It was the first time since she had been kidnapped that the spark shown in her eyes. If he had known how happy it would make her, he would have done the job for free, but he wasn’t too upset by the triple fee, either.