Whistler's Angel

by John R. Maxim

  “Yeah, but wait a second. What’s this guy to us?”

  “You need only know that we don’t want him found. I am giving you that task, Mr. Lockwood.”

  “This…phone we’re on. You’re sure this is private?”

  “Mr. Lockwood, you have just proposed a mass murder. Only now do you ask if this phone is secure? If you’re speaking to me on the phone that you were issued, yes, I assure you, it’s secure.”

  “Yeah, okay, then what’s this ‘Am I clear in my meaning?’ You’re so sure, let’s hear you say it in plain English.”

  “I suppose I’d best,” said Aubrey. “There must be no mistake. Mr. Crow is to vanish, never more to be seen.”

  “That’s not plain English. That’s like ‘Get him out of town.’”

  Aubrey sighed. “Never mind then. The reward will go elsewhere. It is double the amount that you’re accustomed to, Vernon. Tell you what…let me speak to your associate.”

  “What for?”

  “You said he’s a man who does what needs to be done. Perhaps I don’t need you, Mr. Lockwood.”

  “Yeah, well, he works for me. You want to deal, deal through me. What he’d get, though…it’s extra? Not out of my end.”

  “It is extra. In this case, twenty thousand.”

  “And all we got to do is…”

  “Kill the man, Mr. Lockwood. See that he is no more. End his life. Do away with him. Rub the man out. Have I covered every nuance, Mr. Lockwood?”

  “Yeah, I get you.”

  “Make him vanish, Mr. Lockwood. Do it now; do it thoroughly. You’re to leave no trace that a man such as this ever blemished the bosom of mankind.”

  “That he what?”

  “No trace, Mr. Lockwood. Not so much as a footprint. Especially any papers, communications devices, any diary, if he has one. Every trace.”

  “Hang on a sec, okay? I gotta confer.”

  Aubrey heard a tiny blip as Lockwood pressed his mute button so that he could speak privately with his man. Typical of Lockwood, thought Aubrey. The man sees a mute button on a phone that he’s been issued and assumes that the mute function actually mutes. He’s never wondered why anyone would issue a phone that is capable of excluding the issuer. Aubrey’s own did work, of course. Lockwood couldn’t hear him. But he could hear Lockwood’s every word.

  “Did you know they made the shooters?” Lockwood asked his man, Kaplan.

  “Yeah, a little while ago. Guy named Breen’s the one who took the knife in his head. Guy named Crow is the leader. He’s still on the loose.”

  “Nice that you told me. Next time tell me these things.”

  “Okay, but so what? What are these guys to you?”

  “I’ll tell you what they are.” Lockwood gestured toward his cell phone. “You know what this sounds like, what Aubrey is saying? This sounds like Aubrey sent these guys after Ragland. They fucked up; now Aubrey doesn’t want them caught and questioned. He wants us to pop the one named Crow.”

  Kaplan said, “Did I tell you? I thought it was us. You remember I said why I didn’t hang around is because I thought that maybe it was us.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Lockwood. “It could not have been Aubrey. Aubrey didn’t know about any of this until I told him myself.”

  “Maybe that was an act.”

  “Nah, he didn’t know. He asked all kinds of questions. If he knew, he’d have just made some faggy little crack like, ‘We have it well in hand, Mr. Lockwood.’”

  “But it’s him who wants him whacked. He didn’t tell you how come?”

  Aubrey almost could hear Lockwood’s primitive brain struggling to achieve a synapsis. Success came more quickly than Aubrey would have thought. Lockwood asked, “Hey, wait, what did you say the guy yelled? I mean the one who walked in and shot Ragland.”

  “I said I couldn’t make it out, but it sounded like a curse. On the news, though, they say he yelled, ‘God is not mocked.’”

  “A religious nut?”

  “Yeah, they’re both religious nuts. All this has been on the news.”

  Aubrey listened as Lockwood thought for a moment. Lockwood said, “Wait a second.” He pressed the mute button. He said, “Mr. Aubrey? Give us one more minute. We’re strategizing, okay?”

  “Take your time, Mr. Lockwood. Think it through, by all means.” Lockwood pressed his useless mute button once more.

  Lockwood said to Kaplan, “That’s the answer. Religious. It had to be Poole who sent these two after Ragland. Aubrey knows this and now he has to cover for Poole.”

  “Poole’s the same kind of nut?”

  “I used to think he just talks it, but, yeah, I think it finally messed with his head. Whatever he is, he controls all the money. If Aubrey’s doing this to cover for Poole, Aubrey’s getting a bundle for doing it.”

  “So?”

  “Maybe we have an opportunity here. I gotta think about this.”

  “Speaking of which,” said Kaplan, “you were talking about my end. How much is my end if I help you with this?”

  “Five grand. That’s on top of what I pay you.”

  “Make it ten.”

  “It’s ten,” Lockwood answered, “if I like what you do. See that? I take care of you, right? After this…well, we’ll see, but I’m getting some ideas. After this, you could make a lot more.”

  “After this comes Whistler?”

  “I don’t know yet. Let me think. Right now, let me get rid of Aubrey.”

  Felix Aubrey could barely restrain himself from screaming into the phone. He wanted to say, “Mr. Lockwood, you ass, did you hear me when I told you not to think? You’re not equipped for it. Your neurons fire blanks. The reason why you’re always outsmarting yourself is that yourself is even denser than you are.”

  But he didn’t.

  Aubrey waited until he heard the mute button’s blip. He asked, “Are you

  there, Mr. Lockwood?”

  “Yeah, we’re done.”

  “And your strategy, no doubt, is reduced to the following. You knock on Crow’s door, you identify yourself. He will let you in because he expects you; he thinks that you’ve come to assist him. Without further ado, you will shoot him. You will gather up everything belonging to him and you’ll put in a bag to take with you. You put the bag and Mr. Crow in the trunk of your car. Not his, your own; they’ll be looking for his.”

  “Hey, I know how to do this, Mr. Aubrey.”

  “You will find a quiet spot; it will be well off that island, and you will dismember his body. You’ll dispose of those parts that would aid the authorities in identifying the corpse. Ideally, the body should be totally consumed along with the contents of that bag. Is this your plan in essence, Mr. Lockwood?”

  “Yeah, like that.”

  “And of course you wouldn’t go back to that island. There would be no need because…listen to me closely...I have plans of my own for Adam Whistler. He’s to be left in peace for the moment.”

  “Left in peace? When we have him? I need twelve hours, tops. Then we’ll have every one of them all in one place.”

  “Mr. Lockwood…reflect. By no means do you have them. What you have is a hope that they might be assembling. Further, you hope that they’ll gather on that boat showing reckless disregard toward a foe of your caliber. You envision…what? A frontal attack in a busy marina? Or perhaps you see yourself rigging a bomb and blowing them out of the water.”

  “No bomb. Bomb’s are quick. He’s not going to die quick.”

  “Ah, yes,” recalled Aubrey, “you want him to suffer. And, oh, you would like to rape the girl in his presence, then slowly peel her face from her skull. Was that just the girl? Or the mother as well? Forgive me, I had taken careful notes of your fantasies, but I don’t seem to have them at hand.”

  “…Hey, screw you, Mr. Aubrey.”

  “Are you hearing me, you cretin?” Aubrey’s voice became a hiss. “I’ve given you a task. Go and do it. Only that. Don’t go anywhere near Whistler. Don’t depart
from my instructions in any particular without calling to check with me first. Am I clear?”

  “We’ll go get this Crow guy. After that, we’re gonna talk.”

  “I do so enjoy our exchanges, Mr. Lockwood. I’ll be counting the hours. Goodbye.”

  TWENTY FOUR

  Whistler was still grumbling as they got into their car and drove out of the Palmetto Bay Marina. He made a right turn toward the new Cross Island toll bridge. It was the shortest route to the hospital.

  Claudia was pleased that he’d consented to take her. Consented, however, was not quite the word. If he hadn’t, she’d have gone to see the Raglands on her own. He had lost that argument with her.

  She’d said, “Adam, this is something that I have to do. I think I’m supposed to. Come with me.”

  He then tried to dissuade her by making a show of taking two weapons from the locker. They would not, he told her, go anywhere unarmed as long as Crow was at large. He had shoved his Beretta into his belt and he took the MAC-10 plus an extra clip. He placed the sub-machine pistol in a large canvas tote and covered it with a sail bag. He took both kevlar vests and put one on himself, under a baggy gray sweatshirt. He insisted that she wear the other. He told her that he wanted her to keep the vest on until they set sail for Bermuda. He said he didn’t care how hot she got. He said he didn’t care if the vest made her look fat. That was the price she was going to pay for…

  “Adam,” she asked quietly, “what are you trying to do?”

  “I’m trying to get it through your head that it’s dangerous out there.”

  “Am I supposed to say, ‘I guess you’re right, it’s not worth it?”

  In fact, that’s exactly what he’d hoped.

  She’d said, “Tell you what…let’s not do this halfway. Let’s take the decksweeper with us.”

  “Listen, Claudia…

  The gun locker was still open. She reached in and got it. She squeezed it into the canvas tote. She said, “There. We’re covered. At short range, at least. But what if this Crow plunks away from a distance? Then we’ll want your big rifle. You know, the humane one? Let’s go. I’ll carry it out to the car.”

  She was up through the hatch with the M-87 before he was able to stop her. He said, “Claudia, get back here. Don’t wave that around.”

  “Your trunk open?”

  “No, it’s locked. Bring that back.”

  “Adam, are you coming or must I go alone?”

  By that time she was striding up the dock toward the ramp with the sniper gun under her arm. She passed some sailors who were hauling a boat, too busy to notice, thank God. He had no time to lock up the boat, but he threw a coil of line across the hatchway. He snatched up the tote and he followed. They got to the car. It was close by, thanks again. He opened the trunk; he’d lied about it being locked, and threw all of the weaponry into it.

  Claudia climbed into the passenger seat and waited for him to join her. When he did, she poked his leg. She asked, “Are you angry?”

  He answered, “I’m not speaking to you.”

  “Yes, you are. You’re going to remind me that I’m nuts.”

  “Nuts is what you are in general. This, specifically, is willful. I am very upset with you, Claudia.”

  “If I hadn’t grabbed those weapons, you’d still be back there stalling. I have to go, but not without you.”

  “To willful, add scheming. And manipulative.”

  “Start the car. I promise to be good from now on.”

  “Will you do as I say?”

  “I’ll try to do as you ask. What is it that you’d like me to do?”

  That still sounded willful, but it opened the door. She agreed that his wishes should not be ignored, especially regarding their mutual well-being. He outlined…suggested…the rules of engagement. Having agreed that it did make sense to go armed, she agreed that if the hospital had metal detectors, they would abort the Ragland visit. If they got to Ragland’s floor and there were people in his room, they would also abort and return.

  “And if you see a camera of any description?”

  She nodded. “We’re out of there fast.”

  “And if Ragland is alone? Or just Ragland and his wife?”

  “I go in by myself. You don’t want to; that’s okay, and I only stop in for two minutes.”

  Fat chance that he’ll be alone, thought Whistler. They’ll leave and maybe she’ll come to her senses before any damage is done.

  “And if he’s alone, or only him and his wife?”

  “I don’t know. I just see what sort of feelings I get.”

  “No, you know what I mean. What are you going to say?”

  “We tried not to get involved because you’re a married man. I’m not supposed to be with you. I’m a silly little bimbo, but I did want to help. I learned first aid and CPR at beautician school in Toledo. They made me take first aid because I wasn’t good with scissors and I kept nipping off parts of ears.”

  “Claudia…”

  “As for you, you’re a lawyer with three kids at home and a wife who has all the money. She doesn’t know that you’ve been screwing her beautician. If she finds out, she’ll dump you and she’ll take all your toys, including the boat, which she owns, not you. You’ll deserve it because you’re a scum-sucking rat, and, oh, by the way, I think I’m pregnant.”

  “Um…Claudia…”

  “If I have to be a bimbo, Adam, you can be a rat.”

  This was not, of course, what they had discussed. She was simply to look

  in, say hello, how are you feeling? Sergeant Moore said you wanted to thank me. The best way to thank me is to say no more about it. We’re very private people and we hope you’ll understand that we’d rather not be bothered by reporters. If the thrown knife comes up, she has no idea how anyone could think that she could do that. This would be a true statement. Well, sort of. If she’s asked about the bullet she’s supposed to have moved, that one’s easy, just explain what really happened.

  “I’m teasing you, Adam,” she said. “I’ll be good.”

  “Just remember. Two minutes. I’ll be waiting down the hall.”

  Kaplan was almost sure that it was Whistler who passed them going northbound on the Cross Island Parkway. A beige Ford Taurus, man driving, woman with him, heading in the opposite direction.

  “You’re sure?” Lockwood asked.

  “It looked like them, yeah. But, we’re coming to the bridge. Let’s see if their boat is still out there.” The arching bridge afforded a view of Palmetto Bay and the Sound. Kaplan glanced toward the place where Whistler’s boat had been anchored.

  “Boat’s gone. No, there it is. It’s tied up at the fuel dock.”

  Lockwood said, “I know. I saw from the plane. You got any idea where they’re going?”

  “Who knows?”

  “The airport, I bet. The mother’s coming in, right? Let’s go down there and check out the boat.”

  “Didn’t Aubrey say don’t go anywhere near?”

  “That’s near Whistler. He’s not there. We just go look around.”

  “What, we go climb on board? What if that wasn’t them? He sees you, he blows off the top of your head. How about we do what Aubrey says for a change?”

  “Screw Aubrey.”

  Kaplan raised a hand. He said, “Vern…we’re not stopping. If you do this, you are strictly on your own.”

  “You’ll see who does the blowing. It’s not going to be Whistler.”

  “Good. You can practice on the Crow guy.”

  “Why would Aubrey want to give Whistler a pass? What are these ‘other

  plans’ he says he has?”

  “Ask him later. Right now, let’s take care of the wacko.”

  From the bridge, they stayed on Palmetto Bay Road. Two miles further, they approached Sea Pines Circle. “We go straight here,” said Kaplan, “but just off to the right is where the shoot-em-up was.”

  “Where? One of those buildings?”

  “That bar
on the end. Jump & Phil’s.”

  Lockwood said, “Swing in there. Let’s take a look.”

  “For what? It’s boarded up.”

  “It’s good I get the lay of the land here.”

  With a shrug, Kaplan turned to the right off the circle and proceeded for another hundred yards. He said, “On the left. See? Windows covered with plywood. Oh, wait. It looks like they’re open.”

  There were outside tables on a tree-shaded terrace that was off to one side of the restaurant. There was an outdoor bar and a built-in TV for customers who wanted to watch sports events. A waitress was setting the tables for lunch and another was stocking the bar. The one at the bar was…oh, yeah…that girl, Leslie. The two owners were sweeping up the last of the glass.

  “See the blond one?” Kaplan pointed. “That’s the one who you tried to tell Aubrey was probably the one who carved him up. She look like a killer to you?”

  “So, who does?”

  “You for one. It’s like you’re wearing a sign. You also can’t get two whole sentences out without talking about killing someone.”

  “Whistler’s girl friend…she look like a killer to you?”

  “Good point,” said Kaplan. “Her, I wouldn’t have guessed.”

  “Let’s get closer to this one. I can’t see her face.”

  “Vern, she can’t see yours either. You should keep it that way.”

  “You said she was on the boat with Whistler and those others? Then she knows what that meeting was about.”

  “So we what? Order brunch? Ask if she’ll fill us in?”

  “Just go in and swing around so I can see.”

  Kaplan did as he was told, but he didn’t like it. He didn’t need Leslie to look up and spot him. She knew his face from all those times at the bar. She’dcertainly noticed his red Cadillac from all the times he’d pulled up in it. She’d remember how he ducked out last night before the police could show up. It could enter her head to take down his plate number and give it to that cop friend of hers. Not likely, but possible. Why take the chance?

  “Which reminds me,” he told Lockwood, “we have to boost another car.”

  “What’s the matter with this one?”