[Tanner 16.0] To Kill a Killer

by Remington Kane

  “Maurice says it’s his pet cop.”

  “What time are you meeting?”

  “I don’t know. They have to fly in from somewhere.”

  “That’s cutting it close, isn’t it?”

  Give me more time, Tanner.”

  “You mean I should give you more time to track me down again?”

  “Yeah, this was stupid, I admit it, but now I know better. Give me another day, Tanner. I know I can get in touch with Maurice by then.”

  “You call him Maurice, does that mean you’re friends?”

  “Maurice doesn’t have friends, but I’ve known him since we were young.”

  “You have until tomorrow night.”

  Bruno leaned back against the wall.

  “Good, but hey, don’t hurt my car, okay?”

  “I’ll leave it near the train station.”

  “It is a sweet ride, isn’t it?”

  “You can’t drive it in hell, Bruno. Tell Scallato to call.”

  Tanner dropped the phone into the center console, then looked over at Sara.

  “Did you refer to me as your boyfriend back at the hotel?”

  “I did, and you are,”

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Tanner said, and pointed the car toward the train station.

  28

  I Knew It!

  As he said he would, Tanner dumped the Porsche at the train station, but only after he was certain he could pick up another rental car there.

  Bruno showed without delay and Sara used a new purchase, a pair of high power binoculars with optional night-vision capability. She could see Bruno sitting in the passenger seat of the Porsche while one of his men drove. He appeared to be occupied with something in his lap.

  “I think he’s writing… yes, I see a pen,” Sara said.

  “If he’s smart, he’s writing his will,” Tanner said.

  They followed Bruno’s entourage for a few more blocks until they came to a halt near a street corner. One of the white vans had taken off, while the other stayed with Bruno.

  “It’s a letter,” Sara said. “He just licked an envelope, and now his driver is headed for the mailbox on the corner. I’d love to know what’s in that letter, and who it’s addressed to.”

  Tanner looked around. There was a lot of foot traffic and bike riders in the area. That would change once the shops closed in several hours.

  “I’ll come back later and break into the mailbox.”

  Sara lowered the binoculars.

  “But won’t they have picked up the mail by then?”

  Tanner chuckled.

  “I see you’re not familiar with the Italian postal system.”

  “Slow?”

  “It was glacial the last time I used it. I once mailed Spenser a letter from Rome and I was in Wyoming a month later when he received it.”

  Sara looked around and saw a police car drive by.

  “Tonight then, I’ve a feeling that letter is important.”

  Tanner hung back the rest of the day and followed Bruno by using the app on his phone. The GPS tracker had a range of several miles, so he had the luxury of following the thug at a distance.

  Whenever the tracker indicated that Bruno had come to a stop, Tanner got closer. Most of Bruno’s day involved talking to his various underlings and making sure that they knew he was keeping watch. Then, around noon, Bruno’s car headed into a section of the city that the tourists never see. Tanner had to be careful then. He had to stay far enough back not to be seen, while keeping close enough to find out what Bruno was doing.

  His car was a new vehicle. It stuck out nearly as much as Bruno’s Porsche did in that area. Sara employed the binoculars again just in time to see the action. Bruno and his thugs had cornered some poor soul against an abandoned building and one of the men was beating him with a bat while two others held him.

  “It looks like Bruno is a micro manager,” Tanner said. “He likes to be there when the late payers get the message.”

  “Do you think they’ll kill him?” Sara asked.

  Tanner took the binoculars she passed him and zoomed in on the action.

  “It’s just a major-league tune-up. A couple of cracked ribs and a messed-up face. They haven’t touched his knees, so I guess Bruno wants to leave the man mobile. If the guy has to beg, borrow, or steal, I bet he comes up with Bruno’s money after this.”

  “In any event, Bruno seems to be acting as if it’s business as usual. Either he’s not taking your threat seriously or he already has a plan in place to deal with you.”

  “Let’s hope that plan includes meeting with Scallato.”

  When it was time for lunch, Tanner and Sara dined at a bistro that was on the other side of an avenue where Bruno was eating. The mobster liked a leisurely lunch. It was nearly four p.m. by the time he left the table in the company of a beautiful young blonde who had joined him at the restaurant.

  That was when Bruno separated from his troops and went off with the woman alone to what was likely her apartment.

  As they sat waiting for Bruno to emerge again, Tanner sighed.

  “I feel like we’re filming a documentary. A day in the life of an Italian thug.”

  Sara laughed.

  “What do you think he’s doing up there?”

  “Exactly what I’d like to be doing with you right now.”

  “You don’t think he’s living there, do you?”

  “No, she’s probably the girlfriend and he pays for the place. Bruno wears a wedding ring, there’s a Mrs. Bruno somewhere.”

  Bruno emerged from the apartment just past seven and headed to a villa that had to be worth several million euros. Security was tight, and the property was walled-in.

  “This must be where the boss lives, the man named Degussa,” Tanner said. “Bruno must be checking in.”

  Several thugs could be seen coming and going while Bruno was inside. After he left the villa, Bruno drove to one of the bars he owned, where he passed a thick envelope to a young man wearing a suit.

  “Did we just witness a bribery payment?” Sara asked.

  “Probably, and the kid in the suit must work for a judge or a politician.”

  Sara laughed.

  “I wish we had filmed this day. Say what you will about Bruno, he’s not boring.”

  Before leaving the bar, Bruno had drinks with a young woman who was not the same woman he’d met at lunch. She wore a tight skirt that barely covered her ass and her breasts were spilling out of the halter top that was visible beneath her open jacket. Bruno’s car was parked on the side of the building in a narrow alleyway. There were people strolling by in front of the bar, but none traveled down the alley. The woman joined Bruno in his car and was soon burying her face in his lap.

  “Our documentary will need to have an X rating now,” Tanner said.

  Sara made a face.

  “Out in public? What a pig, and that girl must be a hooker.”

  “She’ll probably be working at the nursing home after this try-out.”

  When the act inside the car reached its inevitable conclusion, the girl got out of the Porsche, zipped up her jacket, popped a stick of gum in her mouth, and sashayed away. Bruno placed his car in gear and headed north.

  The Passeggiata Anita Garibaldi a Nervi is a seaside promenade that looks out over a rocky coastline. It’s located a short distance from the heart of Genoa and its wide walkway is a favorite of tourists and locals alike. It also has several great cafes nearby.

  Tanner and Sara were sitting at a window in one of those cafes as they kept an eye on Bruno. Bruno stood at the rail on the walkway and kept checking his watch. He was meeting someone there, and that someone was late.

  Both Tanner and Sara were in disguise, as a precaution. Tanner had a beard held on by spirit gum. The beard had wide streaks of gray in it that matched the gray of his shaggy wig. He also wore glasses. Sara had donned a wig of long dark red hair, sunglasses, and a baggy pant suit. At her feet were several shopping bags tha
t marked her as a tourist.

  The binoculars had been left in the car, but they both had cameras hanging around their necks. Using zoom lenses, they could see Bruno’s companion when he arrived.

  Sara sighed in disappointment. She was hoping Tanner was wrong about the man, but no, there he was.

  “Jacques Durand,” Sara said with sorrow in her voice.

  Tanner’s eyes narrowed, as he wished he were holding a rifle rather than a camera.

  “Scallato’s pet cop. And once I put a choke chain on him, he’ll lead us straight to Scallato.”

  “Damn!” Sara said.

  “What?”

  “I liked Jacques.”

  “Sara, he’s been using us, while working for a man who wants to kill us both.”

  “I know.”

  Tanner lowered the camera and took her hand.

  “I’ll leave his fate to you. When we leave here, I’ll steal a car and stay on Bruno while you stick with Durand, but be very careful. Scallato could be nearby.”

  “You’d let Jacques live, after knowing that he’s conspiring to have you killed?”

  “He can become my pet cop; I’ll leave that to you.”

  “Thank you, Tanner, even now, knowing what I know, I don’t want Jacques to die.”

  Tanner smiled.

  “I’m glad he’s not a younger man; I might have competition for you.”

  They were still holding hands. Sara massaged Tanner’s palm with her fingertips as she stared into his eyes.

  “There’s not another man in your league.”

  Tanner patted his phony gray beard.

  “Not too bad for an old guy, hmm?”

  29

  Breaking And Entering

  The mailbox popped open with a loud clanking noise and Tanner lowered the crowbar he’d used to break into it.

  There was a couple walking along the street with their dog. Tanner ignored their stares and took the mail back to his stolen car, then drove several blocks away and parked.

  There wasn’t much mail, and Tanner was saved having to tear it all open when he saw Bruno’s name on an envelope. The letter was addressed to a Signora Maria Rizzo and was being sent general delivery to a post office in the Sicilian town of Raguso.

  Tanner tucked the letter in an inside pocket and left the vehicle with the other mail in his hand. He stuffed the letters and postcards in a different mailbox before finding another car to steal. He had to track down Bruno again and hoped that he hadn’t lost him, but he felt it was more important to retrieve the letter.

  After failing to get a ping from the app on his phone, Tanner parked his new stolen ride, an older model Peugeot, and opened the letter. He could speak Italian much better than he could read it, but Bruno’s simple handwriting was easy to decipher.

  Maria,

  There is a very dangerous man named Tanner who is looking for Maurice to kill him. Do not take this threat lightly! Your husband is deadly, but so is Tanner and I don’t know if Maurice will survive. Take the kids and head to our sister’s house in Palermo. If I don’t join you there in a week, you’ll know that Tanner killed me.

  With love, little flower,

  Bruno

  Tanner was shocked by the contents of the letter.

  He had never considered that Maurice Scallato could be married, much less have children. He had never known a high-level assassin who had a family life. As he had told Alexa many times, it just wasn’t compatible with what he did.

  Then, he suddenly felt foolish. Of course, Scallato had a wife and children, that’s what the Scallato’s were all about, handing down their legacy to another generation.

  The Scallato’s had been assassins for more than a century and were around before Tanner One had claimed his first contract. It was not only possible to raise a family while living such a life, but the Scallato’s proved that it could be sustained for generations.

  Tanner thought that Bruno’s sister, Maria, must be an exceptional woman in many ways. She accepted the life her husband lived and kept the home fires burning during his long absences. In some respects, it must be like what a wife in the military had to do.

  A wife and children? Tanner thought, then shook his head in wonder. Maybe an assassin didn’t have to be alone forever, not if he found the right woman.

  He renewed his search for Bruno and the app beeped when he came within range. As he closed in, Tanner chuckled. The signal was coming from a spot near his and Sara’s hotel. Although their belongings were still there, they had made other arrangements for the night, just in case Bruno was stupid.

  Tanner drove past the Porsche when he was half a mile away from the hotel. In thirty minutes, he identified several vehicles that held Bruno’s men, as well as two vans packed with mercenaries. It was a small army, but if its commander died, the troops would disperse.

  There was just one problem. Bruno was a thug, but he wasn’t a low-level thug, not if he reported directly to a man like Degussa. Killing what the Americans called a “Made Man” could have Tanner embroiled in a war with the Italian mafia. That was not something he needed on top of his Scallato troubles.

  Tanner sent Sara a text telling her to stay away from the hotel, then followed it by leaving the area himself. It was time he had a talk with Degussa. Tanner drove toward the villa he’d followed Bruno to earlier, and as he drove, his mind formulated a plan.

  Emilio Degussa groaned softly as he climbed out of bed and cursed his aged bladder for waking him up after only an hour’s sleep.

  In the bed beside him lay a woman nearly seventy years younger than he, named Rosalia. Emilio was old and kept the bedroom warm, so Rosalia always slept in the nude. Emilio stared at her tanned and perfect body, the long blond hair flowing down her back, and felt not a twinge of lust. They had made love just two days earlier, and lately, it sometimes took weeks for desire to return. He feared the day it would never return.

  He sighed as he rose from the bed on creaking knees.

  What a stud he had been in his youth, often taking on three women a night. But those days were long gone, as were most of the women. He was eighty-eight and had outlived everyone he’d known growing up.

  Before entering the bathroom, Emilio looked back at Rosalia. What a treasure the girl was. She loved him and cared for him. Why? Only heaven knew, and it wasn’t an old man’s imagination. Emilio had seen enough of the world to know how to read what was in a person’s eyes. There was no guile in Rosalia, and she played no games, if she loved you she loved you, and if she hated you, watch out!

  In that way, they were much alike, and Emilio wished he had met her when he was her age.

  Most thought the girl a whore and nothing else, and yes, she had been a prostitute since the age of twelve, when her mother used her to get money. But Emilio had taken her off the streets when she killed her pimp to save another girl from being set on fire.

  At any other time, a whore who killed her pimp would have been tortured to death as a lesson for others. And yet, one look at Rosalia and Emilio had been smitten. Sparing her and making her his mistress was a sign of weakness, Emilio knew that, but he hadn’t the heart to have her killed.

  He entered the master bathroom that was twice the size of most bedrooms and used the toilet on the right. The damn room had three toilets, two showers, and a hot tub. Emilio had come up in a tiny apartment where he’d lived with his six brothers and four sisters. He’d had a mother, but no father, and so, at the age of ten he ventured onto the streets to make a living, as his older brothers did before him. The older brothers died during the second world war, but Emilio survived the war years and thrived after them.

  He made that living by stealing, an activity he was exceptional at. By the time he was twenty-three, Emilio had bought his mother a house in the country.

  After finishing his business at the toilet, Emilio moved over to the sink to wash his hands. The walk covered twenty feet and Emilio almost missed the days when his bathroom was about the size of a shoebox.


  He splashed some water on his face as well, and when he raised his head from the sink, he saw Tanner standing beside him. Tanner was holding a gun in one hand and a towel in the other. It pleased Emilio to see that the gun was pointed toward the floor, while the towel was being offered.

  “Who sent you?” Emilio asked as he took the towel to dry himself with.

  “My name is Tanner and I’m here to talk.”

  Emilio sucked on his bottom lip as he processed the words, then a light came on in his old eyes.

  “Tanner? The American assassin?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re going to kill me?”

  “No, like I said, I’m just here to talk.”

  “How did you make it past the guards, did you kill any of them?”

  “I didn’t have to. The perimeter guards are watching TV, while the gate guard is on his phone and smoking a cigarette.”

  The old man cursed aloud at his guards’ incompetence.

  “Emilio?” said a soft voice from the bedroom.

  “That is Rosalia. Let me answer her or she’ll grow concerned.”

  Tanner tossed his chin in the direction of the bedroom.

  “Go to her and keep her from screaming and alerting the man outside the door.”

  Emilio let out a wheezing laugh.

  “Rosalia is not the screaming type.”

  After returning to the bedroom, Emilio held up a hand and pleaded with Rosalia.

  “Do not reach for the gun on the nightstand or this man will kill you.”

  Rosalia rose from the bed and went to Emilio. She was still naked and didn’t care who saw her. She sneered at Tanner like a mountain lion defending her cub.

  “If you hurt Emilio I will kill you.”

  Tanner listened to her while staring at her body. The woman was an exceptional beauty. When Tanner looked away from her, he spoke to Emilio.

  “I’m here to discuss Bruno Allende. I want your permission to kill him.”