by Rick Blechta
Shannon turned to Signora Rota, who’d come no further into the small room than the doorway. “This is a good photo of your daughter.”
The woman bobbed her head once, acknowledging the compliment.
Then Shannon reached into her purse and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Picking up another photo that showed Gia and Maria with their hair up (and judging by their white dresses and age, probably their graduation ceremony), she studied it.
For almost a minute, she scarcely breathed as she tried to take in what the photo was telling her. If she’d felt like a fool before, she was double or triple the fool she’d thought she was. Every time she felt she was getting a handle on things, the damned Chameleon pulled the rug right out from under her.
Never one to hold onto a theory when it had been shredded and thrown back in her face like so much confetti, Shannon took stock on where this new information might lead her. Things were much more complicated than she’d thought.
“Could you take a look at this photo I brought?” she asked, crossing the room to hand it to Signora Rota.
The old woman concentrated on it for several seconds then looked up, perplexed. “I do not understand. The numbers on this photo tell me that it was taken less than a month ago.”
“It was.”
“But this is impossible! Giovanna is dead.”
“I figured as much. Please tell me about it.”
“But why would you want to know this? You are with the big international company Maria works for, the one that sends her all over the world to lead training sessions. It’s why she only works at our bakery sometimes now. I do not understand.”
“Maybe we should sit down,” Shannon sighed. “I think this is going to be a long conversation.”
The woman perched on the end of a rather worn, stuffed chair, clearly ill at ease.
Shannon took a deep breath and began. “I don’t work for any company. I’m a private investigator from Canada.”
“Why are you here? What do you want to ask me?”
By way of answer, Shannon fetched the photo in the white frame, and said gently as she held it out, “Look carefully at both photos, especially at the left ear, although on my photo it’s more difficult to see.”
The woman squinted hard at it. “They look the same.”
“Yes, and it’s one of the key identifiers to establishing a person’s identity. It’s as individual as fingerprints. Unless you are really knowledgeable and thorough, the ears are never considered when someone is wearing a disguise. And that’s something I should have remembered,” Shannon finished, speaking mostly to herself.
“I am confused. What are you trying to say?”
“This is a surveillance photo taken in a Toronto hotel of someone I thought was Giovanna Vennuti. The photo in the white frame proves that it was your daughter Maria.”
Signora Rota’s expression became firm. “No, no! You have made a mistake. My daughter could not have been in Canada at that time. Her company sent her to Australia. It was all very sudden, and she missed the funeral of her grandmother. Maria was very upset about this.”
Australia? The Chameleon didn’t lack for imagination, that was for damn sure.
Just then, the sound of someone putting a key into the door broke in on the two women.
“Ciao, mamma, sei qui?”
The mother’s answer was in English for my benefit. “Maria, I am in the sitting room. Please come in here!”
Maria appeared in the doorway and didn’t see Shannon right away, because she was sitting on a chair behind the door. The girl walked over and affectionately kissed her mamma on the head.
Signora Rota stuck out her hand, pointing at Shannon. “Tell this mad woman about the company you work for and where you were two weeks ago!”
Maria turned, and while she was quick, she was not quick enough, and Shannon clearly saw the fright in her eyes for a fraction of a second, then the consummate actress, the girl who had looked so plain and clearly wasn’t, slid back into her chosen role again.
“Shannon? What the devil have you been telling my mother, you naughty thing! You are such a tease.”
“No, Maria!” her mother continued. “She has showed me a photograph. She said that it was taken of you in Toronto. You told me you were in Australia. What is going on?”
Maria leaned her backside against a low chest of drawers and looked at Shannon. “Do you want to tell her, or should I?”
Having no idea where this was going, Shannon made no response.
Kneeling down in front of her mother, and grasping her hands, Maria looked up and said, “The company I work for doesn’t pay me to conduct seminars, mamma. I’m an investigator for them.”
It was such a stunning statement, Shannon couldn’t decide whether to bust her one or jump to her feet and applaud. The Chameleon was a marvel.
“And that is the truth? I know you, Maria, and sometimes you lie too easily.”
“I swear on my father’s grave, mamma. I am telling you the truth.”
“I am to believe that you are spy?”
Maria laughed easily. “Nothing that grand! Our company investigates industrial espionage and manages security. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier, but it was one of the terms of my contract.”
Signora Rota smiled triumphantly over her daughter’s shoulder, completely snowed by what she’d heard. “But why has this woman told me all about you if it is forbidden?”
Maria turned and winked at Shannon. “I guess it means that I have got the promotion at last. I will now be a supervisor!”
The girl’s audacity was simply amazing. Shannon was about to bring this touching scene to a screeching halt when Maria flashed her a warning with her eyes.
The old woman prattled on how proud her papa would have been, and Mamma Vennuti, too, with the success of her clever daughter.
Eventually, Shannon decided to wrest this out-of-control situation back to more manageable waters and said, “Signora Rota, I have a lot to discuss with your daughter. Perhaps you have something else to do?”
The woman jumped to her feet. “I am forgetting my manners! You would like some espresso or tea, perhaps? I also have biscuits, but they are from a tin, I am ashamed to say.”
“Nothing for me, thanks. I really do have a tight schedule.”
As the mother left, Maria shut the door behind her.
“That was a close one!” she laughed.
Shannon shook her head in amazement. “You are too much.”
Maria sat in the chair her mother had vacated, sprawling in an unladylike fashion with one leg over the arm, her foot tapping the air. “So what gave me away?”
“Your ears.”
“Right,” she said, nodding thoughtfully. “I should have known better than to beard an ex-cop.”
Considering she was in a ton of trouble, Maria seemed quite carefree and chipper. Shannon felt sure she was being treated to yet another role, one crafted to get the girl out of this mess.
“You’ve created havoc in a lot of lives. People have died because of things you’ve done, and a number of people are in great danger.”
“Your employer, for instance? I’m sorry that Michael had to get sucked into this. He’s a genuinely good person. I enjoyed his company rather a lot.” Maria looked at Shannon then laughed again. “Have you been bonking your clients, Shannon? Shame on you!”
Despite herself, Shannon blushed furiously. Should she add mind reader to the list of the girl’s accomplishments?
Forcing her embarrassment back, Shannon fixed the girl with what she hoped was a firm gaze. “You are going to get Michael out of this mess.”
“And how do you propose I do that?”
Shannon felt the ground underneath her firm up. “There are people in Glasgow looking for him. People from Birmingham, too. They all seem to think he can lead them to you. I’m going to give you to them.”
“And why should I go along with that?”
“Because,” Shanno
n said leaning forward, “if you don’t, I’ll break both your goddamned legs! You may be slippery as an eel, but I can still whip your ass. You are going to Glasgow.”
Maria looked at her for a moment. “I suppose what you’re really saying is, if I don’t cooperate, you’ll turn me over to the police. Don’t use this violent crap on me. Once a cop, always a cop.”
“Don’t bet on it.”
“But I am. Okay, so I agree to go to Glasgow. What’s in it for me? You’re signing my death warrant.”
“Not really. We’re going to do a deal: the heroin and the money, too, in exchange for leaving all of us alone.”
Maria flashed the same smile Shannon had seen in the white-framed photo. “Oh, ho. We have been doing our homework, haven’t we?”
“Stands to reason you don’t have what you want, because you’re still hanging around. So it has to be in Birmingham. Where is it?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
“No, first we’re going to work out how I’m going to get out of this. And do you know why? I get the feeling that the police will be involved somewhere along the line. Like I said before: once a cop, always a cop. You want Mastrocolle’s arse as much as I do. Admit it! That would certainly be a feather in the O’Brien cap, wouldn’t it? Might even make your ex jealous, eh?”
Shannon had a distinct feeling of vertigo. How did this girl know so much about her? No matter what Shannon did, the Chameleon was always one step ahead. Shannon felt as if she was trapped inside a very complicated piece of machinery, one whose purpose she could barely comprehend and which threatened to spin out of control any moment.
Wheels within wheels within wheels.
***
An hour later, Shannon was back on the motorway, heading north with Maria at the wheel. She needed to devote all her attention to watching the girl. Trust was definitely not an option where the Chameleon was concerned.
The girl had asked if she could change. Shannon allowed it, but under her watchful eye. Surprisingly, Maria had chosen an old fashioned, flowered dress, mid-calf and quite unsuitable for the cold weather. When Shannon questioned that, she replied simply that it was her favourite.
Maria had told her mother a further series of the most outrageous lies to get out of the house. Shannon (her supervisor) was taking Maria out for a celebratory dinner, then they’d be leaving for the States the next morning, so Maria could begin her new job. Signora Rota beamed and smiled at her marvellous daughter.
Shannon, feeling ill over what she was witnessing, had great difficulty not telling the poor woman what was really going on, but she knew it would have accomplished nothing. Still, as a mother herself, it was very hard to watch. Maria had absolutely no shame.
While she was changing, the girl had pulled an overnight bag from under her bed.
Shannon, not trusting her in the slightest, had taken possession of it, and once back in the rental car, she’d rifled through it.
Maria sat looking on with amusement. “You going to pat me down, too?”
“Yes, but not here. I’ll do it when we stop for gas.” Shannon had smiled grimly.
At the bottom of Maria’s bag, she’d found a kilo of heroin wrapped in plastic.
Maria had shrugged as Shannon held it up. “Thought we might need it to show them we’re serious about giving them back their merchandise.”
Now, shortly after seven in the evening, they were speeding north to Glasgow, much as Michael had done with the girl not that long ago.
“My sources in New York couldn’t or wouldn’t tell me how big the shipment was.”
“Three hundred kilos,” the girl answered casually.
No wonder everyone had their shorts in a knot!
Maria had certainly become involved in very high stakes dealings, and Shannon was dying to know why. She was obviously more than smart. Why play such a loser’s game? There was obviously something more to it than Shannon knew at the present time.
Maria pulled the car out and shot around a slow moving transport, clearly enjoying herself.
Twenty minutes later, on the outskirts of Stafford, Shannon’s cell phone chirped in her pocket.
“Michael?”
“Shannon,” Michael groaned. “I’ve been—”
She cursed as she thought the connection had been broken, but then another voice came on—an American voice.
“Listen closely, Ms Private Dick. We got your boyfriend, and he’s very nicely told us you know where the girl is. We want her. Now.”
Shannon managed to keep her voice steady. “I’ve got her with me, and we’re on our way to Glasgow.”
“Isn’t that convenient,” the voice answered sarcastically. “Good thing for you and your rock star. How soon will you be here?”
“Maybe five hours. It could be longer with the traffic we’re hitting.”
“That’s good. Call us when you get closer, and we’ll tell you where the exchange will take place. And I don’t think I need to tell you what will happen if there’s any monkey business, do I?”
“Save your breath. I’m well aware of how these situations work.”
“Good girl. Don’t forget, we’re counting on you. So is Michael.”
The connection was severed, and Shannon slumped back.
Maria looked over with one eyebrow raised. “So they’ve finally snagged Michael, have they?”
The detective nodded.
“Well, that should keep us on our toes, eh, Shannon?”
Thirty
I was struggling frantically, having seen the way Tommy went down, but the men on each side of me simply tightened their grip on my arms and warned that I’d get the same if I didn’t smarten up.
Once in the car, I was squeezed into the middle of the back seat between the two largest ones. They produced a cloth bag and shoved it over my head. I knew better than to struggle.
We drove for a long time to get to our destination. Walking from the car, we crunched across gravel.
I was marched into a room that was quite warm and heavy hands on my shoulders forced me to sit on a hard chair. The crackle of plastic sheeting underneath it made me break out in a sweat. Having heard Giovanna’s story, I knew what that meant.
The bag was pulled off, and I found myself in a nicely appointed, slightly damp-smelling room, old furniture, carpets, all very comfortable. To my left was a fireplace with a wood stove attachment, and about five feet in front of me sat a comfortable-looking leather armchair with a floor lamp just behind it, casting a meagre glow. Curtains at the far end were drawn tight, same with a French door in the wall next to it. Over the desk next to me a large clock ticked away the minutes—an ominous sound under the circumstances.
It was one of the Americans, standing behind me, who said into my ear, “Keep your eyes forward or we will hurt you. Got that?”
I nodded.
I was certain two of my captors were American, one a Brit and one a Scot. The Yanks had sat with me in the back of the car. The Scot had driven, and the Brit had ridden shotgun. I thought I might be able to recognize the Yanks again, but that wouldn’t do me a lot of good if I were dead—and that’s what I fully expected to be in short order.
“Now, are you going to tell us where the girl is?”
I’d been in this position before, but I thought I’d see how far I could play the game this time. “What girl?”
Something cold touched my neck, and suddenly it felt as if my body were being ripped apart from the inside, as every muscle went into one huge spasm. The pain coursing through me defied description, and its effect was so powerful that their strong hands couldn’t hold me on the chair. I fell to the floor, writhing in agony.
I must have passed out, because the next thing I knew, I was back on the chair, and my head was wet and dripping. Hands forced my arms behind me where they were fastened to the chair using plastic ties. My legs followed.
“Didn’t enjoy that, did you?” the voice said into
my ear. “Now, I’ll ask again: where is the girl?”
“Sod off.”
They must have cranked up the juice on their stun gun, because this time I didn’t think I would survive. Three seconds of it seemed like a lifetime and reduced me to a quivering pile of jelly.
As I sat there gasping, the voice said, “Don’t make the same mistake again, buddy. Tell us where the girl is.”
I’d reached the end of what I could stand. “We...we think she’s in Birmingham. The investigator I brought over from Canada has gone down to check it out.”
Hands rifled through my pockets. Another American voice said, “Cell phone. Good. Tell Mr. M. we have things under control.”
They undid my hands and told me to call Shannon. It took three tries to punch it in. Shaking so badly from the effects of the electroshocks, it was a wonder I could even hold the phone.
I tried to pass something useful to her, but they grabbed the phone away before I could get much out. From my end of the conversation, though, I got the feeling that Shannon had bagged her Chameleon and was on the way back to Glasgow.
I allowed myself a bit of hope. She was a smart women and would go into this with her eyes wide open.
Then they fastened my hands again, turned off the lights and left the room, leaving me to ponder my mortality in utter darkness.
***
Shannon’s brain was in overdrive as she tried to figure out angles and probabilities. Everything had changed since the phone call, and matters were even less under her control, which had been tenuous at best.
Michael had sounded terrible on the phone. Obviously, they’d been hurting him, and it must have been pretty terrible. The bad guys would keep him alive for the moment, but how far they would extend that depended on the way Shannon handled things over the next few hours. She felt unequal to the task.
Next to her, Maria said nothing but kept glancing over. Finally, she broke the silence. “Each passing mile is bringing us closer to Glasgow, Shannon. You’re going to have to come up with something or people are going to die. And I don’t plan on one of them being me.”