The Savannah Madam

by Tom Turner

  He wished he had a battering ram in his car, but he didn’t.

  Finally, after a few minutes, the door opened six inches and a young, dark-haired woman with streaked eye make-up wearing a diaphanous robe looked out at Jackie and Bull. “We’re closed.”

  Bull held up the warrant. “I have a warrant for the arrest of John E. Redmond.”

  The woman turned and yelled “Johnny,” while at the same time she tried to push the door shut. But Bull muscled it open and he and Jackie shoved their way into the foyer. The woman tried to block their way, but Bull shoved her out of the way.

  They heard the sound of a door slam off in the distance.

  Bull ran into the living room, then up a staircase to the second floor, Jackie on his heels.

  Then suddenly they heard a sound that seemed to be coming from outside the house.

  Bull stopped. “What’s that?” he asked, turning to Jackie.

  They both listened. “A helicopter,” said Jackie.

  They both turned and ran downstairs. There were three pairs of mahogany French doors that led out to the back of the house. Bull, leading the way, ran out through the middle pair. He was on a large flagstone porch, aiming his pistol at a helicopter that was rising quickly into the night sky.

  He lowered the gun. “Don’t know who’s in there.”

  “I know,” Jackie said, nodding. “Safe to say one of ‘em’s Redmond.”

  “Come on,” Bull said. “Let’s see who’s still here.”

  They went back inside. The woman with the streaked make-up was smoking a cigarette and had a drink in a high-ball glass.

  “Who the hell are you?” she asked in a raspy voice.

  “No, we’re asking the questions, who was in that helicopter?” asked Bull, flashing his ID.

  The woman shrugged. “How would I know? I didn’t see anyone get in.”

  “Who’s still here?” Jackie asked.

  “No clue,” she said.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Chastity.”

  Jackie shook her head. “Of course”

  Bull headed back up the stairs. A man appeared at the top, buckling his belt.

  “Well, well,” Jackie said, recognizing him. “If it isn’t Pappy van Winkle.”

  Bull recognized him, too.

  Ed Guyton put his hands over his face and kept them there, then started walking quickly down the stairs.

  “Whoa, whoa, Ed, we saw your face, bro,” Bull said.

  Guyton stopped on the same step as Jackie. “Hello, Ed,” she said. “You can put your hands down. We know who you are.”

  Guyton kept his face covered.

  “Put your damn hands down, for Chrissakes,” Bull said louder.

  He did.

  Bull pointed. “Now go sit down in the living room. I’ll be there as soon as I take care of a few things. You take off and you’re fucked.”

  Shoulders slumped forward, Guyton went down the stairs and toward a couch.

  Bull and Jackie walked up the stairs to the second-story landing.

  “How do you know him?” Bull asked.

  “I interviewed him once. How do you?”

  “Ed’s a fine upstanding member of the community,” Bull said. “At one time, he was head of the Savannah Chamber of Commerce.”

  Jackie laughed. “So, I guess he was just doing his job. Welcoming a new business to town.”

  Bull laughed. “Wonder who else we’re gonna find up here.”

  They walked into the first bedroom they came to. There was a king-sized bed with a large square mirror above it. It looked like a body was under the covers, but the sheet and comforter were pulled up over it.

  “Who’s in there?” Bull called out loudly.

  Nothing. He walked over and pulled back the sheets and covers.

  It was a red-haired woman, wearing nothing but black panties.

  “Well, Eileen, having a little sleepover, are you?” Jackie said to Eileen Mudge. “Thought you were retired.”

  38

  In a second bedroom, they found a raven-haired woman in bed wearing a bra and panties. She wasn’t pretending to be asleep—in fact, she was reading a Harlequin romance novel. She didn’t seem to mind that a detective and a woman P.I. had just walked into her room and were now peppering her with questions. When they asked her name, she answered, “Candy.” And when they asked, “Candy who?” she said, “Some days Barr, some days Kane.” Then when they asked who had been in bed with her, she answered them with a question: “What makes you think anybody was?”

  Jackie had been scouring the room for signs that a man had exited the room hastily. Wearing white latex gloves, Jackie looked into the big, walk-in closet, which was empty. Then she inspected the bathroom, where all she found was a toothbrush and a large tube of Colgate toothpaste. Coming back into the bedroom, while Bull asked Candy questions, she looked under the bed. The first thing she spotted was a condom wrapper and the next was a pair of men’s underwear.

  She picked the briefs up between her thumb and forefinger: “Who do these belong to, Candy?”

  Candy, propped up against two pillows and still holding the Harlequin romance novel, looked over, bored with the Q & A. “Never seen ‘em before in my life.”

  Bull stepped closer to her: “Come on, Candy, who was here with you?”

  Candy yawned. “A man—” then opted again for her default answer “—Never seen him before in my life.”

  “Is this amusing to you?” Bull asked. “Because unless you start giving us straight answers, I’m taking you down to the tank at my station dressed just as you are. They’re some pretty rough dudes down there who’d like to get to know you better.”

  Jackie knew there was no such place as “the tank” at Bull’s station. Sounded good, though. She was sure he’d used the line before.

  Candy put the romance novel down on her stomach. Her expression changed dramatically. “I don’t wanna go in no tank.”

  “Well, good,” Bull said. “You’d hate it there. So, tell us who just left your bedroom.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m pretty new. Just some guy I’ve seen here a few times.”

  “What do you mean ‘seen here?’” Jackie asked.

  “I don’t know, like maybe a friend of the boss?” Candy said. “They sit around and drink together.”

  “The boss? As in John?”

  Candy nodded. “Yeah, as in John.”

  “The man who was here…you been with him before?”

  Candy nodded. “Once or twice.”

  Jackie nodded. “Where’s John’s girlfriend?”

  “Her bedroom’s next door,” Candy said. “I don’t know if she’s still there.”

  “You mean, ‘cause she might have left in the chopper?”

  Candy nodded.

  “So, you don’t know this guy’s name?” Bull asked.

  “Nope.”

  Bull turned to Jackie. “Let’s go next door.”

  Jackie nodded. She had a hunch who had been in bed with Candy, but wasn’t positive.

  Jackie and Bull walked out of Candy’s bedroom and Bull knocked on the door of the room next door. “Police.”

  “What do you want?” came a woman’s voice.

  “We’re coming in,” Bull said.

  Bull opened the door.

  Lying in the biggest bed Jackie had ever seen was a blonde woman with a gap between her two teeth.

  “Detective Bull, Savannah-Chatham police,” then, flicking his head at Jackie, “and my associate.”

  “Where’d your boyfriend John go?” Jackie asked.

  “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” the woman said.

  Jackie saw a gold stud in her tongue.

  “What’s your name?” Jackie asked.

  “Victoria.”

  Jackie took a step closer to her bed. “You met with my sister earlier. She was the one who said no thanks to the test drive.”

  Victoria played dumb. “I don’t kno
w what you’re talking about.”

  “Yeah, you do.” Jackie looked around the room. “Whose sunglasses are those?” She pointed to a pair of Ray-Bans on a bureau.

  Victoria glanced over but didn’t answer.

  Bull walked over to a chair that had a man’s jacket on it. “And this?”

  “I don’t—”

  “Yeah, you do,” Jackie said again.

  Victoria was silent.

  Bull looked at Jackie. “You got this?”

  She nodded.

  “I want to go talk to Guyton.”

  She nodded again as Bull walked out of the bedroom.

  Jackie turned back to Victoria. “Where’d Redmond go?”

  “He didn’t exactly have time to tell me,” Victoria said, sarcastically.

  “He piloted that helicopter?”

  Victoria shrugged. “I guess.”

  “So, in too big a hurry to take you along?”

  Victoria shrugged again.

  “Some boyfriend,” Jackie said, looking around the room. “Where’s your cell phone?”

  Victoria pointed at a purse on a dresser. “In my purse.”

  Jackie walked over to the dresser and pulled an iPhone out of the purse. “I’m going to borrow it for a while.”

  “What do you mean? I need it.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll get it back,” Jackie said, walking out of the bedroom. “Stay here. Don’t go anywhere.”

  She walked back into the bedroom next door. Candy was reading her Harlequin romance novel.

  “I have one last question?” Jackie said.

  “What?”

  “The man who was here…how was he as a tipper?”

  Candy threw the book down on the bed in disgust. “The worst. Gave me a lousy five bucks last time.”

  Meanwhile, Bull was downstairs talking to Ed Guyton, who had helped himself to a Pappy van Winkle and soda.

  “So, Ed, are you and John Redmond friends?”

  “Acquaintances,” Guyton said.

  Bull nodded. “I’m going to send you on your way if you cooperate with me and answer all my questions,” Bull said. “But if you don’t, I’ll take you in and, fair warning, your name’ll be plastered all over the front page of the Morning-News.”

  Guyton nodded. “What do you want to know?”

  Bull leaned forward. “First question, who was with John Redmond in the chopper?”

  “Sorry, I have absolutely no idea,” Guyton said. “I didn’t see who got in.”

  “Okay, well, do some process of elimination then,” Bull said. “Who was here earlier tonight, before everyone paired off and went upstairs?”

  “Well...there were a couple guys talking to Redmond who I didn’t know,” Guyton said. “I just came in, got a drink, and went up there.”

  “Got right to business, huh?”

  Guyton didn’t answer.

  “Okay, next. Where was Redmond going?”

  “I don’t know,” Guyton said. “He wasn’t going anywhere ‘til you showed up.”

  Bull shook his head slowly. “You tryin’ to be funny, Ed?”

  “No, I just—”

  “He lives in Atlanta, right?”

  Guyton nodded. “Mostly.”

  “So, he didn’t mention any plans he had for the next day or so?”

  Guyton started to say something but stopped.

  “What were you going to say?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Come on, Ed,” Bull said. “I don’t think the missus would like reading—”

  “He was going deep-sea fishing,” Guyton said. “Leaving from a place in Jacksonville.”

  “A place?”

  “I don’t know the name.”

  “If I looked in your car, would I find fishing gear?”

  Jackie walked down the stairs and saw Bull questioning Guyton. She walked up to them.

  Bull glanced at her. “Seems like Ed here and his ‘acquaintance’ John Redmond were going deep-sea fishing tomorrow.” Then, to Guyton: “What was the name of the place you were leaving from?”’

  “I can’t remember.”

  “You really want to play it this way, Ed? I’m gonna ask you again and if I don’t get the right answer, you’re front page news.”

  Guyton sighed. “Beach Marine at Jax Beach.”

  “Finally, we’re getting somewhere. You got anything more?”

  Guyton shook his head.

  “What kind of helicopter was it?” Jackie asked.

  “A Bell Jet Ranger.”

  Jackie nodded then pulled out her iPhone.

  “You think of anything,” Bull reached into his wallet and pulled out a card, “give me a call right away. The more you remember the better your chance of not making headlines. What’s your number, case I need you?”

  Guyton gave it to him.

  “Okay, you’re free to go,” Bull said, starting to walk away. Then he stopped. “By the way, if you’re tempted to call Redmond, don’t. We’re gonna check all his incoming calls when we take him in. If yours is one, you’re definitely gonna be charged as an accessory.”

  Bull and Jackie had gone into Casa Erotica’s kitchen, gotten a couple of bottles of water, and were sitting on two bar stools at the stone countertop.

  “So, if I’m Redmond, no way I’m going back to Atlanta,” Jackie said. “Not his house or one of his clubs.”

  “I agree,” Bull said. “So where would you go?”

  “Depends,” Jackie said. “If he thinks we showed up to bust him for Casa Erotica, that’s one thing. If he thinks we showed up to take him in for Miranda Cato’s murder, that’s another.”

  “Yeah, and if it was the latter, it might be skip-the-country time,” Bull said.

  Jackie nodded. “I agree,” she said, taking out Victoria’s cell phone. “The question is, if that’s his plan, does he plan to take his girlfriend with him?”

  “That’s her phone, I take it?”

  Jackie nodded. “I figured I could text Redmond and ask him where he is. Or maybe he’ll call and leave a message.”

  “Good thinkin’,” Bull said.

  “I also got Eileen Mudge’s cell phone. And bad mascara’s, too. So, nobody can call Redmond,” Jackie said, raising her handbag. “And, while I was at it, I thought it would be a good idea to disconnect the land line as well. I got all the car keys, too, so nobody’s going anywhere.”

  “Man, you think of everything,” Bull said.

  “Oh, also, as I was rummaging through Victoria’s purse, I came up with this,” Jackie said, showing Bull a photo.

  “Yeah, that’s our boy,” Bull said, looking at the photo of John E. Redmond. “But the beard’s new.”

  Jackie took out her cell phone and dialed.

  Bull looked at his watch. “Who you calling at 1:40 in the morning?”

  “My sister,” Jackie said. “She’d be pissed if we left her out. Even though she’s in the doghouse.”

  Ryder answered her phone with a groggy, “Hello.”

  “Hey, we’re going after Johnny Redneck, thought you might want to join us.”

  “Damn right,” Ryder said, her voice croaky. “Where are you?”

  “128 Morning Glory.”

  “Seems like I just left there. Why are you there?”

  “Long story,” Jackie said. “Tell you when I see you. Don’t forget your Glock.” She hung up.

  She turned to Bull. “I thought it would be good to have another gun.”

  He nodded. “Especially hers.”

  39

  Just after Ryder reached Casa Erotica, one of the phones in Jackie’s purse rang. Turned out to be Victoria’s. John Redmond was calling. Jackie let it go to voicemail and waited impatiently for the message ping to sound. She tapped it as Bull and Ryder hovered above her.

  “Hey, babe,” the voice said. “Sorry to take off without you. I’m down in Jacksonville. I got us booked on a flight to Grand Cayman. We spend the night there, fly to Morocco tomorrow. Meet me in the Jet Blue
terminal as soon as you can get down here.”

  “Wow,” Ryder said. “I’m guessing he must have money parked in Grand Cayman.”

  Jackie nodded. “And going to a country that has no extradition treaties with the U.S. Guy’s thought this through.” She turned to Bull. “Can we arrest a fugitive out of state?”

  “I can. I’m going to go get Victoria.”

  “And to think,” Ryder said to Jackie, “she could have been my new boss.”

  Jackie and Ryder rode in the back of Victoria’s midnight-blue BMW 6 series Gran Coupe. Harry Bull was driving with Victoria in the passenger seat.

  “This really pisses me off big-time,” Ryder whispered to Jackie.

  “What now?”

  “This bimbo has a seventy-thousand-dollar German car and I’ve got a ten-thousand-dollar piece of shit from Korea.”

  “I can hear you back there,” Victoria said. “And, just for the record, it’s an eighty-thousand-dollar German car.”

  “Rub it in, bitch,” Ryder muttered. Then, she said louder: “Is it yours or Johnny Redneck’s?”

  “He gave it to me. And don’t call him that,” Victoria said. “What about you, sweetie, you got a boyfriend?”

  “I got two actually,” Ryder said. “A wigger named Antwon and a seventy-five-year-old guy with alopecia.”

  “Lucky girl.”

  Ryder shook her head ruefully. “Hey, how far, Harry?”

  “Little over an hour,” Bull said.

  “Can’t you put the hammer down?” Ryder asked.

  “Jesus, I’m doin’ ninety,” he said.

  “Leave him alone,” Jackie said. “I checked and the flight doesn’t leave ‘til one p.m.”

  “What’s going to happen to John if you catch him?” Victoria asked.

  “He’s goin’ to trial,” Bull answered.

  “For what?” Victoria asked.

  “Oh, did he forgot to tell you?” Ryder said. “A little thing called murder.”