The Suitcase

by T V Scribner

  “In his apartment. Seems a tenant, several doors down, takes her dog for a walk every day, and as they passed one of the apartments, the dog stopped and began to bark and wouldn't stop. I guess the dog refused to leave. It just kept sniffing and barking, at the door. The dog’s owner knocked, but there was no answer, then knocked again, until finally deciding to contact the landlord, and the rest is history."

  “Wow! That’s awful!”

  “The landlord reported the murder to the police, and gave the tenant’s name as Ivan Belenski, I recalled his name being mentioned as a friend of Kamorov’s, in one of the employee statements.”

  Paisley spent the afternoon with Boone, viewing the site of the grisly murder. The victim had been duct-taped to a chair, and stabbed in the chest. Blood was everywhere. There was also a gash on his head, perhaps made with a blunt object of some kind.

  Forensics technicians were giving the room a thorough going-over, searching for fingerprints and other evidence, while the ME, Dr. Hyde again, examined the body, so it could be prepared for removal.

  While the police photographer finished documenting the crime scene, Paisley and Boone, knocked on apartment doors in the building, in hopes of finding someone, who may have seen or heard something helpful.

  They came up empty-handed, except for a strange lady, who remembered talking to a man the previous evening, on her way out of the building. Unfortunately, in between her mental wanderings, she remembered nothing about what he looked like, or what he said.

  When they returned to the scene of the murder, forensics was gone, but the ME was still there. The officers watched, while the two detectives investigated the place. Boone found the victim’s wallet, in the bedroom, stuck between the bed and the wall. His driver’s license, indicated his name was Ivan Belenski, but nothing else was found—no trash in the trash can, no cell phone and no computer.

  Stepping closer to the body, Paisley had an idea, “Hey, Boone, what if the duct tape over his mouth, has fingerprints on the sticky side?”

  “Good idea,” and Boone made the request to the ME, to check for fingerprints, and get back to him ASAP!

  The two Detectives, left the crime scene and headed back to the precinct. The weather seemed to be getting worse. The rain had been relentless, and looked like it was set to continue the rest of the day. Arriving in the precinct's garage, the two agreed to go to their own offices, and meet later to dine out, one more time.

  Boone wanted Paisley to stay at his place again, but she argued, there were things she needed to take care of, at the farm. Boone acquiesced after she agreed to allow one of the officers to keep an eye on her place at night—just in case. She headed to her office and greeted Millie, remembering she still hadn't told Boone about the tattoo.

  "How did it go, this afternoon?" Millie asked, looking up at her.

  "Well, Millie," she said as she gathered the papers on her desk and put them in her safe, “the site was grotesque, definitely a horrendous murder of yet another person, possibly connected to Kamorov."

  "No kidding! I guess the plot thickens!" Millie said dramatically.

  Paisley stopped what she was doing, smiled and gave Millie a look, "Ya think?"

  They both chuckled, then finishing her tasks, Paisley grabbed her coat and the umbrella, which she kept at the office, and said, "By the way, Millie the weather is terrible!" She headed out of the office, to meet up with Boone.

  "And where are we going to meet tonight for dinner?" Paisley asked, with a smile as she entered Boone's office. "Just so you know, I'm really hungry!"

  He looked at the clock. "I'm sorry, I was engrossed in the information I’ve been reading about Ivan Belenski, and didn't realize it was so late! So why don't we have dinner at Dock of the Bay Grill? They have wonderful grilled salmon steaks, and a delicious house salad."

  "Perfect...I think I know where it is, but I’ve never eaten there."

  She drove with Boone, to the Grill, both failing once more, to notice a pair of headlights, which pulled out and followed them at a safe distance, to the restaurant. The vehicle's occupants parked and watched the pair race to the entrance, as they splashed in puddles, and arrived wet at the door, despite using Paisley's umbrella.

  They were both laughing, as Boone opened the door for her, and followed her inside. The car in the lot and its occupants watched this, realizing they would have to be patient, and parked in a dark corner of the lot within sight, of the detective's car.

  A waitress greeted the pair and ushered them to a window table, decorated with the obligatory fish net and glass balls on the wall. They spent a minute or two on the menu and gave their orders to the waitress, who brought Boone a beer and Paisley, her revered Diet Coke. Taking a sip, she glanced around the restaurant at the pictures of fish along the walls, and boat rigging hanging from the ceiling beams.

  "Not the greatest view of the little bay tonight. It's raining so hard I can't see anything out there," Boone said, as he moved closer to the window trying to look out. He saw nothing, but the fog of his breath on the window, so he sat back and relaxed and took a long sip of his beer.

  After a sip or two of her pop, Paisley said, "I have something interesting to show you." She dug in her briefcase and pulled out the photocopy of the tattoo. "Look at this," and she put it on the table in front of him.

  "Okay, a picture of a snake?" Boone took another sip or two from his beer, puzzling over the picture in front of him.

  "Yes, it's a picture of Kamorov's arm from the autopsy, showing his tattoo! Remember when I took the pictures?"

  "That's right, you never did tell me what that was all about."

  "I took it because, when I stared at it, it jogged a memory and I couldn't remember why, until I recalled Millie describing a similar tattoo.” She sat back in her chair, with satisfaction.

  "Okay, but what's the significance?"

  The waitress arrived with their salmon, rice pilaf, broccoli, and the house salad, "Oh, this smells delicious!" Paisley said, while the waitress ground some pepper on the salad.

  As the waitress cruised on to another table, pepper-mill in hand, Paisley dug into her dinner and with her mouth full said, "The significance is, I told you about the guy who came into my office earlier in the week, and how he was looking for the thumb drive. He tried to persuade Millie to find it for him in my desk!"

  "I do remember you saying this,” Boone said as he finished his roll and reached for another.

  "Well," she said dramatically, "he had a tattoo on the inside of his arm, too! It was one of the things Millie remembered about him, and when I showed her this picture—bingo! They were the same. So perhaps this guy is connected to Kamorov—maybe, he's even the murderer!" she said dramatically.

  CHAPTER 25

  Pinecrest

  Paisley stared at Boone expectantly, waiting for him to react, but instead, he seemed passive for a moment, before he responded, "To go from tattoo, to murderer, is a big leap—but—an interesting connection..." He hadn't finished his thought, before Paisley interrupted him.

  “…but wait! There's more! I researched coiled snake tattoos, on the internet and after working on it for a bit, I discovered an organization exists, which uses the coiled serpent… and guess where the group is head-quartered?” Before he could hazard a guess, she blurted out, "Russia! And, it's connected to a Mafia organization with groups all over the world—including the United States!"

  Now Boone was interested, "Well, this might be a lead?”

  Before she took another bite of her dinner, she added, "I think we should check the victim we found today for tattoos, and maybe even Yury, and Zolotov—they’re all Russian and might all be connected!”

  She stopped talking and began eating again, enjoying her food. Boone, also enjoying his food, but with a full mouth, noised, "Um-hmmm,” assuring her with a nod.

  When he finished chewing, and could talk again, he told her, "We'll check it out, and now here's what I uncovered earlier today. Turns out, I got a h
it on the phone numbers found in Kamorov's jacket. One of them belonged to our elusive, and recently deceased friend of Kamorov, Ivan! I called the number, but no one answered, and now we know why."

  "And the other number?" Paisley asked.

  "It was harder to find. I had to pull a few strings, and found only the name, Lenny Starko. No address or other information…it's as if he's in witness protection!”

  It was her turn to say, "Hmmm. Well, on another note, I barely retrieved Kamorov’s computer from the lab, when you called about Ivan's murder.”

  When the meal and murder case talk ended, they relaxed with a cup of coffee. Boone asked, one more time, "Are you sure you won't stay overnight at my place, instead of driving way out to the farm in this rain…it would be safer?”

  "Look, Boone," she said gently, "whoever ransacked the house, knows by now, there’s nothing to take, so I doubt they'll return, and besides, I can take care of myself! I'll keep my gun with me at all times, and I'll lock all the doors and close all the blinds. I have to go back some time…plus, I need a shower and clean clothes, but thanks for the offer."

  "I still wish you would reconsider..."

  She smiled, and continued, "Really, thanks for all the help you've been—I mean it, but I'll be fine, especially with the officer provided by the PPD, as a guard. I have to get back and make sure everything is okay. I need to make sure Phantom has food and water, not to mention, pick up the mail."

  "Okay, if you're going to be stubborn, just keep your cell phone charged and near you at all times, and if anything happens, please call and I'll come right away—deal?"

  "Deal." She smiled. His concern made her feel good, but she couldn't continue avoiding her return to the farm.

  “It’s time to leave,” he said, and paid the bill. They grabbed their jackets and headed for the door. Outside, the rain was still pouring, and a big clap of thunder startled them both, as it echoed through the night, accompanied by lightning splayed across the sky, bathing the parking lot in a bright flash of light.

  Paisley pulled her hood over her head, but before she opened the umbrella, Boone grabbed her hand and practically dragged her along, as they raced to the car through the driving rain. They were drenched when they dove into the car, and drove silently to the police station, where he dropped her off, at her Jeep. He watched her get in, and drive away, but followed her for a few blocks, to make sure no one followed her—or him either—before peeling away, heading home.

  After waiting in the parking lot of the restaurant for quite a while, Tazvoshenko’s men decided to return to the police precinct, figuring the detective would eventually return the girl to her car. It would offer them an opportunity to intercept and kidnap her, and force her to divulge the thumb drive's whereabouts. Tazvoshenko, assured them they could use any means available.

  The rain was relentless, and as they listened to the weather report on the radio, they talked among themselves, deciding the abduction would actually be easier in the storm. Shortly, the detective dropped the girl off, and they watched, as the detective’s car followed the Jeep for a few blocks, before turning to go home. Finally they edged out of a side street and stealthily began their pursuit.

  Although Paisley noticed Boone following her, before turning off, to head home, she didn't notice the dark sedan idling on a side street with its headlights off, nor was she aware, when it slowly pulled out, making a right turn, as it followed her tail lights, at a safe distance.

  As Paisley headed from Pinecrest towards Brainerd and the farm house, the rain intensified, and she began picking up speed at the edge of town, because she was eager to get home, and out of the storm. Preoccupied by the strange murder of Ivan, she was oblivious to the set of lights, which had appeared in her rear view mirror, as she neared north-east Brainerd.

  When she finally spotted lights in her rear-view mirror, appearing as a liquid blur in the storm's downpour, she was uneasy, and even though the rain pounded on the windshield, she sped up a little, and so did the lights. She began to feel paranoid, again. Am I being followed, she thought?

  Despite the rain, she increased her speed again, as did the lights behind her! The uneasiness she felt soon turned to fear, and as she continued to increase her speed, the lights kept pace. Approaching the turnoff to the farm, she decided it was safer to stay on Highway 210, towards Crosby/Ironton, rather than turn onto the dark, deserted road to the farm house. The lights followed keeping pace, regardless of her speed, feeling scared, she grabbed her phone and called Boone.

  "Hello?" His voice sounded matter-of-fact, since the call had awakened him, and he felt groggy.

  "Boone, this is Ingles…”

  "What do you need?” He yawned, is everything okay…?” Now he was awake.

  With a tremulous, anxiety-ridden voice, she interrupted before he said more, "Someone's definitely following me, the faster I go, the faster they go! It's raining so hard, and no one else seems to be on the road! I have a bad feeling about this!"

  Boone sat upright on the couch where he had dozed off in his shorts and undershirt, while reading the newspaper. Swinging his feet from the couch to the floor, he grabbed his pants and said, "Where are you? I'm coming right now!" He held the phone between his chin and his shoulder to free both hands to pull up his pants.

  "I'm driving up Highway 210 towards the towns of Crosby/Ironton,…I didn't want to turn off a main road…the farm is too rural and deserted!” A crash of thunder almost drowned out her last few words.

  "I'm on my way," he said. "Hang in there! Do you have your gun with you?"

  She could barely make out his words, over the pounding rain and the peals of thunder, "No. It’s at the farm!"

  Her car suddenly hydroplaned on the water-filled road, and she screamed as she fought to gain control of it, "Hurry Boone," she yelled, "they seem to be gaining on me!" She had no idea if he could hear words.

  The call began breaking up, and Boone uttered expletives, under his breath, "Okay, please be careful and stay on Highway 210! I'm coming as fast as I can—don't take any chances! Ingles?…Ingles!" he called into the phone, in an attempt, to stay in contact, but there was no response.

  Boone hung up and dialed her number again, but it just rang and rang. There was nothing to do, but race to Crosby/Ironton, despite the driving rain. He threw on his shirt, boots and heavy jacket, grabbed his gun, stuck it in the back of his pants, and ran to his hidden room where he picked up a pre-packed, backpack for emergencies. Racing out the door to his truck, he started the engine, shoved it in reverse, and in his haste to back down the driveway, he almost hit a small tree next to the walkway. He tried calling her again...nothing.

  Paisley’s phone laid on the seat beside her, but she was unable to hear it over the pounding rain. By this time, the road began to curve left, then right, and caused the phone to slip off the seat and onto the floor, rendering her unable to reach it. Frantically, she tried to keep control of the car, but despite her efforts, the mystery car was gaining.

  The dark sedan pulled close behind her, and as she increased her speed, so did the sedan. To her horror, she saw the driver positioning the car, so he could pull up beside her. If he did, in the worst-case scenario, the sedan could force her to lose control of her car and plummet off the road, into a ditch.

  Due to the torrential rain, Paisley's windshield wipers flicked back and forth, like a metronome setting the pace, for Flight of the Bumble Bee, but even at this speed, the wipers were rendered useless in the heavy rain, and became an obstacle, as she tried to see the road.

  Leaning forward, she struggled to peer through the windshield and stay in control of the car, as she raced around curves like a sled on a slalom track. She gripped the steering wheel so tightly, it caused her fingers to ache. She was able to speed up, just enough, to edge ahead of the sedan, and when it made its move, she cut it off, on the approaching curve.

  She glanced in the rearview mirror, just in time to see the sedan swerve into a roadside ditch, and with
a sigh of relief, she sped forward as fast as she dared. At her first opportunity, she squinted into the rear-view mirror to ascertain if the sedan had been able to resume the chase, but rain made it impossible to see through the rivulets cascading down the rear window. Nevertheless, she saw no evidence of headlights in the rearview mirror, or the side mirrors.

  With thunder, lightning and pounding rain, Paisley felt as if she were driving blindfolded, and hoped she was guessing the right moves, to avoid the fate of the sedan. She shook with fear, as adrenalin coursed through her body, but continued to drive through the storm, until the road began to wind around into the small town of Crosby, with its few blurry neon signs glittering in the rain.

  Realizing she had to slow through town, she saw an opportunity to shake the sedan, by turning left onto a side street and disappearing. Having made this decision, she skidded around the corner of the next street she could make out, only to discover, it was poorly tarred. The Jeep bounced around, causing her to slow down.

  Fearful of losing her cell signal, she slowed the car enough to reach down and grab her phone from the Jeep's floor to call Boone again, and tell him where she turned. The peals of thunder were intense, making it difficult to hear once he answered. As soon as she gave her location, the cell signal was gone. I hope he receive my message, she thought! What a violent storm…I’ve never seen anything like this, in California!

  Traveling further down the road, she noticed it changed abruptly, from tar to mud, with water-filled ruts. She prayed she'd be able to keep her Jeep on the road, as it became rougher, causing her to bounce around as she hit flooded potholes and water sprayed to each side.

  As the road grew narrower, the monsoon-like storm continued to pound, and soon the road only accommodated one car. The terrain on either side, was populated with dense brush and small saplings, which made loud slapping noises, as they pummeled the sides of her car, making it difficult to travel, even in her Jeep.