The de Vere Deception (David Thorne Mysteries Book 1)

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The de Vere Deception (David Thorne Mysteries Book 1) Page 24

by Loy Ray Clemons


  Linsdame shifted in his chair and said gruffly, “Don’t tell me what my interests are. Let’s move along. You have your reasons—it’s not necessary to discuss mine.” He became impatient, “So, what’s your point—and your reasons?”

  “My point is this. I think both of us would like to affect the outcome and see the documents—or at least some of the documents, those that apply to de Vere—disappear before they can fully be authenticated. If we could acquire them, we both would like to see them destroyed. Correct?”

  “And . . .?”

  “Our problem is Thorne. As you know, he was rehired by Bada to head up the search. He’s a smart, thorough, and qualified man.”

  After a thoughtful pause, Linsdame asked, “What do you propose?”

  “I’ve checked on your background, Mr. Linsdame,” he said from behind the handkerchief, “I think we both know you have never hesitated to act and do things when you felt your interests were threatened. For example, the disappearance a few years back of the CEO of the company that had planned a major project in Stratford. Also the fatal injury of . . .”

  Linsdame leaned forward. “What are you trying to do, blackmail me?” There was menace in his voice. “I can tell you it’s been tried before and has proved disastrous for the blackmailer. Follow?”

  “It’s not necessary to threaten me, Mr. Linsdame. I have as much interest in squashing this as you do. We need for Thorne to go away permanently, or . . .”

  “You want me to kill Thorne? Do you take me for a fool?”

  “No, I meant find someone qualified to do it. The most desirable result would have been the documents never being discovered. However, they have, so the next most desirable result is that we have to assure their destruction. We need Thorne to furnish us with the documents, then have him and the documents go away. After your designee takes care of Thorne, my man will take charge of specific documents and deliver them to me, where I’ll dispose of them. I assure you, I never want them to see the light of day. I’ve said nothing about you personally removing Thorne. So . . .” He reached into his bulky overcoat and took out five bundles of one-hundred pound notes.

  “I’ll participate in our project. That is, I’ll furnish the funds. I have limited connections for this sort of thing. I’ll compensate my man separately. I don’t think he has the experience to complete the—the elimination of Thorne. I’m sure you can find a professional from the continent, or the U.S.—a man more qualified who could assist in performing the service on short notice.”

  Linsdame looked at the four sheaves of notes. “That looks like a lot of money. Maybe twenty-thousand Pounds.”

  “Twenty-five thousand to be exact. That should buy sufficient services from your end. As I’ve said, I have my own man and I’ll compensate him separately as it’s a two-man job.”

  Linsdame asked, “How do I know your man is qualified for this type of work? I would only use a professional from my end.”

  “I’ve used my man for this type of work before. He’s well-qualified for a lot of things, but I would prefer your specialist be in charge of this event.”

  Linsdame arose and pushed away the untouched beer. “Just make sure he understands this is important. It has to be a precision operations—no loose ends. I want my man to direct all the procedures.” He picked up the money. “Don’t have any of your people contact me again. This will be our first, last and only meeting. From here on out we let our respective people handle the job.”

  Linsdame took out a ballpoint pen and reached for a paper napkin. “Have your man stay at the Briarwood Inn in Bridgetown under the name Carson and wait for my man Brent to call him. When your man speaks with Brent, he’s to give him this identification number for confirmation. This is the number they’ll both use for communication.”

  Linsdame scribbled a six-digit number on the napkin. “My man Brent will run the operation. Make sure your man understands this. We also need your man to find a safe house in Bridgetown—not Stratford—where both our men can stay until the job’s finished. Brent will have his own car.”

  He leaned over the table. “None of this gets out—not to anyone. This meeting never took place. Follow? Just remember what happened to that CEO who disappeared.”

  He went through the door and closed it quietly behind him..

  Chapter 79

  Linsdame returned to his office in Stratford and sat behind his desk. He called his secretary in and said, “I’m not to be disturbed—not by anybody—understand?”

  His secretary nodded and closed his office door.

  He took a cell phone from a locked drawer in his desk and dialed a number in Copenhagen.

  A voice with a Scandinavian accent answered. “Good afternoon, Steenberg Financial, Mr. Steenberg speaking,”

  “This is your client, Newcastle 6265.”

  There was a pause as a keyboard clicked away over the line. “Ah, yes. What can I help you with, Sir.”

  Linsdame said, “I need full service on a matter.”

  “Location? Time? Duration?”

  “England. Stratford-upon-Avon. Tomorrow or the next day. It’s a rush job. The job must be finished in two days or less. Your man will have assistance.”

  “Contact?”

  Linsdame read off the phone number of the Briarwood Inn in Bridgetown and the confirmation code number he’d given to the man at the R and G. “Your man should identify himself as Brent to my man we will call Carson here in Stratford.“

  “Is your man in Stratford a professional? My man would not want to work with a non-professional.”

  “My man is a professional—at certain things. However, your man Brent is to run the operation. He’s to choose the time, location and method of elimination. My man on this end will provide a safe house, and only assist your man as needed. The safe house will be located nearby and both men should stay there. We don’t want anyone staying in a hotel after my man leaves the Briarwood, and they are not to have a presence in Stratford, so the safe house will be in Bridgetown.”

  “Good.”

  “It needs to look like an accident—maybe drugs.”

  “Of course. Will you be able to provide my man with the necessary equipment?”

  Linsdame said, “No. He will have to furnish his own equipment.”

  “That should not be a problem.”

  Linsdame cleared his throat. “Before we proceed, I think I need to tell you it’s a multiple.”

  “Hmm, it sounds a little out of the ordinary, but I am sure my man can handle it. How many? Can you give me more information?”

  “Total of three targets. Here’s the way it should go. Brent will contact Carson and get the pertinent information. Both will contact Target One—a man in Stratford—an architect named David Thorne—and get materials from him, then eliminate him.

  “Carson will take possession of a stack of the materials and deliver them to Target Two. Brent is to shadow Carson and eliminate Target Two—and then Carson, too.”

  Steenberg said, “Excuse me, did you say Brent is to eliminate your man after Target Two is eliminated? That is a bit unusual, but it can be done.”

  Linsdame said, “Brent will take possession of the material, put it in a British Airways flight bag and place it in a locker at Gatwick Airport in London. He’ll give the locker key to you. After you confirm you have received the balance of the fee in your Zurich account, you’ll send the key to me. Send it to me by registered mail to the box we’ve used in the past in Newcastle. At that point you’re out of it.”

  Steenberg was quiet as he digested the information. He put his pen down and said, “Just to ask, do you really think one man from me is enough to satisfy the entire contract? Since there are three targets.”

  “No, I only want one man, and he needs to be your top man. I’ll pay you, as I have in the past, and you in turn will pay your man. I have your account number, and I’ll make the transfer to your account in Zurich, the same as before.”

  Steenberg said, “Yes,
that will do just fine. The job is out of the ordinary, three targets on one assignment. The fee will be fifty-thousand Euros. I recall you prefer to work in Euros instead of pounds. One half deposited in the account in Zurich within twenty four hours, same as before.”

  “Mr. Steenberg, you’ve always provided me with top men in the past. I expect this to be the same.”

  “Yes, it will—and thank you, Sir. It’s always a pleasure to do business with you.”

  Chapter 80

  The small non-descript, middle-aged man in a gray suit and black raincoat bypassed the baggage carousel on his way to the Gatwick Airport rental car counter. The rimless glasses and a small carry-on bag, identified him as just another traveling businessman.

  Inside the car, he adjusted his glasses, ran a small soft hand through his short blonde hair, and dialed his cell phone. “I understand a Mr. Steenberg from Copenhagen has ordered a piece of equipment for me—a Walther with a suppressor and clips. The name’s Brent. Please give me directions from the airport to your place. I should be there shortly. I would also appreciate directions to Stratford-upon-Avon.”

  The cell phone rang. Kelly wiped wisps of the shaving cream from his chin, and flipped it open. “Hello.”

  The voice on the other end had an undistinguishable accent. It could have been British, American or Canadian. “Hello, this is Brent, is this Mr. Carson?”

  Kelly said, “Yes, I was told to expect your call. Do you have anything for me?”

  Brent recited the confirmation number and said, “Where can we meet and discuss our plans?”

  Kelly said, “There’s a place called the Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Inn on the road from London to Stratford. After you pass it, the next street on your right will take you into a parking lot. To the rear of the lot is Winnie’s Restaurant and Bar. It’s small and quieter there. I’ll be in a booth away from the bar, and I’m wearing a white golf hat and a dark blue windbreaker.”

  “I’ll be wearing a black raincoat, and I have short blonde hair. I’ve left London and should be there in about an hour. I understand our job needs to be done in a timely manner, so I’d like you to have the information ready for me.”

  Inside the bar, the sullen barmaid brought the two men their drinks, and Brent paid the check, casually waving off the change. In a voice implying command, he said, “Now, you understand, don’t you, I’m to call all the shots in this matter?”

  The big man looked at the unimpressive little man across from him and chuckled. “Yes, that’s what I’ve been told.”

  “All right, now that we have that straight, tell me what the situation is.”

  For the next half hour, Kelly repeated the information given him by his boss. “I have been directed to secure a safe house a mile or so off the main road for us to operate out of. I’ve been very cautious about giving any information about my interest in the short rental time.”

  Brent ignored Kelly’s self-congratulation. “As long as we have a safe house. That’s the main thing. In the meantime, we have to move quickly. The first thing we need to do is snatch this woman, Gweneth Bada, and secure her at the safe house. What’s the story on her?”

  “She’s blind and in a wheelchair. It shouldn’t be that difficult. The only problem is going to be her guardians. She’s got a personal nurse and a big bodyguard. He’s always close by.”

  Brent was writing down notes. “We need to get used coveralls and pose as workmen—plumbers or gardeners or such. A needle should put both of them out of commission while we make the snatch. Are you familiar with the manor house?”

  “Yes. I went up there yesterday in coveralls to check the gas meter. I thought you might want . . .”

  “Good. We’ll go back under the same guise today.”

  Kelly asked, “Once we’ve got the woman, what then?”

  “Then we’ll call Thorne and notify him of the situation. He does what we say or the woman’s history. He’ll have to furnish us with badges and take us in with him to get the materials from the castle. After we leave the castle, we’ll take him to a remote location and get rid of him. Then you can deliver the materials to your boss and I’m out of it.”

  Kelly grinned. “You’ve thought it all out, haven’t you?”

  “It’s what I do.”

  Chapter 81

  Brent and Kelly drove their van around to the tradesman’s entrance of the manor house and rang the bell. A woman looked out the window before opening it. “What is it you want? Wasn’t you here yesterday to look at the gas meter?”

  Brent said, “Yes, ma’am. My man here said it was acting up, and I just wanted to have a look at it myself.”

  “Oh, all right. Come on in, but wipe your boots first.”

  As the woman turned, Brent moved in quickly and plunged a hypodermic needle into her arm. She turned and frowned at him. “I say, what’s that you’re doing, you little toad. I think it’s best you keep your hands to yourself. You’ve no call to— to—” She began to slur her words and she sat at a small table. “I’m dizzy. What is it you’ve done— I’m—” Brent eased her head down onto her hands as she passed out.

  Brent returned the syringe to its packet and motioned for Kelly to follow. They moved stealthily through the dining room and looked into the parlor where Gweneth sat near the fireplace, listening to music on the radio.

  Brent led the way, and Kelly tapped him on the shoulder. As Brent turned, he saw Charles and his wife, Mairead, sitting across the room on a couch, reading magazines. He took out two needles and whispered to Kelly, “Get them to turn their backs away from me. I’ll come in from the other door and get behind them.”

  Kelly nodded, walked casually into the parlor and pointed to the kitchen. “Pardon me, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone back there. Can you help me find the gas meter?”

  Charles and Mairead were both on their feet immediately. Charles moved across the room with Mairead and said, “I’m sorry, you’ll have to find—”

  Brent was behind Charles with a sap and brought it down hard on the big man’s head. He staggered and fell to the floor. Brent quickly placed his hand over Mairead’s mouth and stuck the syringe in her arm. He held her until she became limp in his arms and slowly lowered her to the floor beside Charles. He moved over and stuck the syringe in Charles’ arm and went across to Gweneth, who had turned in the direction of the sounds of scuffling.

  Brent placed a handkerchief over her mouth and injected her with another syringe. She went limp and Kelly tied her with a cord so she remained upright in the wheelchair. He quickly pushed her wheelchair in the direction of the kitchen. Brent followed after dragging the unconscious Charles and Mairead behind a sofa.

  Kelly opened the rear door of the van and lifted the wheelchair and Gweneth inside. He braced the wheelchair so it wouldn’t move and closed the door. “That should do it,” Brent said. “Now let’s take her to the safe house.”

  “What about the other three people inside the house?” Kelly asked. “You’re just going to leave them to wake up and call the cops?”

  “We have not been instructed to do anyone except the target. Don’t worry, I gave them all heavy doses. They’ll all be out for hours.”

  Once inside the safe house, Brent taped Gweneth wrists, stuffed a handkerchief into her mouth, and placed a strip of tape across it. He surveyed the front room and checked the clip in his automatic pistol. “All right, let’s take care of Thorne.”

  Chapter 82

  The young man left his desk in the foyer of the castle and went to where Thorne was seated in the Great Hall. “Pardon me, Mr. Thorne, but there’s someone on the telephone in the foyer who wishes to speak with you.”

  Thorne frowned. He was curious as to why anyone would call him on the phone at the front desk, but he followed the young man out. “Hello, this is Thorne.”

  Brent said, “Mr. Thorne, we need to have you help us. We’ve detained Miss Bada, and we assume you do not want anything to happen to her.”

  “Who is
this? What are you talking about?”

  “Mr. Thorne, I’m sure you know what this means. We have Miss Bada and we won’t harm her as long as you do what we wish. Don’t contact the police and don’t reveal this conversation to anyone.”

  “What do you want?”

  “We want you to bring two badges and meet us at one o’clock at the Triton Truck stop on Banbury Road five miles east of Bridgetown. Please put the following names on the badges. Robert Jones and William Baker. Now, don’t worry about finding us. We know what you look like, so we’ll find you . . . and Mr. Thorne, I’m sure you know how these things work. I’m in contact with the people who have Miss Bada, and if anyone else gets wind of this—if you notify the police—well— you understand, don’t you?”

  The phone went dead, and Thorne hung up.

  “Is everything all right, Sir?” the young man asked.

  “Everything’s fine,” Thorne said. “Could you please get me my notepad at my desk in the hall?”

  As the young man disappeared through the door into the Great Hall, Thorne opened a drawer and took out two blank badges. He quickly typed the names given him on the badges and wrote their names on the authorized visitors list before the young man returned.

  Kelly drove the van to the side of the building at the Triton Truck stop. He pointed to Thorne standing against a wall. “That’s him. I remember him.” He laughed. “He probably has my little trademark scar on his forehead.”

  Both men got out of the van and approached Thorne. Brent said, “Please come with us.”

 

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