The Deadliest Game: An Edward Mendez, P. I. Thriller

by Gerard Denza

  -Lieutenant, if there's even the slightest chance that Eddie's story here pans out...well, we gotta take it seriously. You just can't ignore something like this.

  -And, start a panic, Miss Gray?

  Sgt. Rayno joined the fray.

  -I think we should listen to Eddie, Lieutenant. There was radiation found at the murder site this morning. And, they've cordoned off the entire Diamond District. There had to be a real good reason for that. I hear that some of the tenants are protesting down at City Hall right now.

  Lt. Donovan lit another cigarette and thought about it. Miss Gray and his Sergeant were right. They couldn't afford to take any chances.

  -You've got a point, Sergeant. You too, Miss Gray.

  Edward continued his narrative, taking the tremor out of his voice.

  -I've got this theory to put out.

  -You've got the floor, Mendez. Make it good.

  -And, we're listening, handsome.

  -Thanks, Ginny. It's like this: Louis Octavio gets a hold of this stone. He goes to have it cut by an expert diamond cutter, Mr. Eisenstein, into how many pieces I don't know. Octavio bumps off Eisenstein and the guard. The radiation left behind is from the stone pieces. Maybe Eisenstein got sloppy .

  Edward took a deep breath and almost smiled.

  -I know. How did my sister get in contact with Octavio and who the hell is the bastard and what is he up to now?

  Ginny Gray lit up and cut in.

  -I might be able to answer that last part. I got this anonymous phone call this morning and there was a pretty potent threat about a demonstration of power. Now, that could have been this Octavio character.

  Lt. Donovan was tapping his fingers on the table and asked a pretty inane question.

  -Was it still snowing outside when you came in, Mendez?

  -Starting to, again. Can't make up its damned mind what it wants to do out there.

  Lt. Donovan slammed his unopened pack of cigarettes down on the table.

  -Okay. You all convinced me. I'll put out the alert. It'll take the rest of the afternoon and most of the night. But, you're right, Miss Gray. We can't take any chances. We can put it under the guise of a city-wide manhunt. Miss Gray? What else did this caller of yours have to say?

  -Warned me about traveling on the subway. You might want to start there, Lieutenant.

  -No specifics, huh?

  Ginny shook her head.

  -There never are with these lunatics.

  Four

  CATRINA'S BEDROOM was now an ordered “mess:” dresser drawers had been emptied, the mattress overturned and the overstuffed clothes closet emptied of every garment and plastic bag, handbags and hat boxes had been taken out and opened. Her diaries and personal items had been pillaged. Edward finished looking through the last empty handbag.

  -I don't get it. Did she even use any of this stuff? Nearly all of it's brand new.

  Nella shrugged her shoulders. She was sitting on the edge of Catrina's bed.

  -We never even dared ask to borrow anything. Not that I would want to. There's a sameness to everything she owned, have you noticed? The dresses are a similar cut and style, even the handbags and shoes...all in muted colors.

  Nella tossed one of the expensive handbags on to the bed.

  -Everything here must have cost a fortune. Did our father have so much money to leave mother?

  -Beats me. But, you've piqued my curiosity. How much is all this stuff worth? What did it cost?

  -Oh, Eddie, I have no idea. Must be thousands...maybe more. And, what about her journals? I'm dying to read them. May I? What in the world could she have written?

  Edward handed her one.

  -It won't take much time. Practically empty. Almost all blank pages except for this trivia about cosmetics and styles.

  Nella opened up the journal and just as quickly tossed it on to the bed.

  -But, why did she buy so many?

  -To fool herself into thinking that one day she'd have something worthwhile to write down.

  -Well, if what we're being told is true, wasn't that worth writing down?

  Edward shook his head.

  -Too dangerous. And, she was probably told not to.

  -By mother?

  -No. By our father.

  -Yes. She would fear him.

  -Mother is asleep, Eddie.

  Edward was standing in the doorway of his mother's bedroom with his sister, Victoria. His beautiful sister looked tired but relieved.

  -I know it's a terrible thing to say; but, I'm relieved. Catrina was a terrible burden and I don't think she had any love in her, not even for mother.

  Edward didn't have to be told this. He knew it for an undeniable fact.

  -Victoria, I think you mentioned once that Catrina had two close friends.

  -Yes. Linda and Rachel. I don't know their last names.

  -Would mother know?

  -She might, if anyone would. Is it important, Eddie?

  The P. I. raised both hands in confusion.

  -It might be. Better to err on the side of caution as Lt. Donovan would say...and probably end up making idiots of ourselves...especially me.

  -What you're saying is that Lt. Donovan would use you as a scapegoat.

  Edward was impressed with his sister.

  -And, it wouldn't exactly pain him to do it either.

  -Stay right here. Mother has an address book on the night stand by her bed.

  Victoria took only a half minute to get the surprisingly thick book. She gave it to Edward.

  -Let's have a look.

  -Eddie, let's take it into the living room. The light's better there. I'll leave mother's door open just in case she wakes up.

  The two of them went into the living room and sat down on the sofa. Edward was already going through the address book before he even sat down. The book was crammed with names and not a single line had been wasted, but there were only a handful of telephone numbers.

  -I guess telephones weren't so common back in the day.

  Edward stopped flipping through it and went straight to the letter “O.”

  -I knew it, Victoria. Louis Octavio right here in black and white.

  -And, there's his address. The old one is crossed out. He used to live in Sutton Place. That's a very exclusive part of town, you know.

  -I know. Whatever he did, he must have been good at it. Here. He's still on the East Side at E. 77th St.

  -Eddie? Look up a Mr. Montenegro. Ramon once mentioned him. They knew each other from the Stock Exchange. He belonged to father's lodge.

  He flipped back a few pages.

  -Here he is: Ricardo Montenegro. He lived over at Sutton Place, too. This gets curiouser and curiouser. These two characters probably knew each other.

  Edward got up and went over to the phone.

  -I'd better call Donovan with this new information. He'll want to see this address book, too.

  -Will you head the investigation, Eddie?

  -I doubt it. Donovan will probably go on over to Octavio's apartment which I'm sure he's vacated by now.

  -And, you?

  -Montenegro's out in Staten Island, right across from the Four Corners Bakery where I've stopped off a few times. I'll head out there first thing tomorrow morning. Maybe even stop off at the bakery. I'd better make that call to Donovan.

  Five

  LOUIS OCTAVIO sat in the old armchair in Ricardo Montenegro's small and immaculately clean living room. His friend and fellow occult member looked well if just a little tired from the onset of old age.

  Montenegro's pension was adequate for his needs and inexpensive luxuries such as a new television set that he hardly ever turned on. He was in his kitchen mixing cocktails for his guest. What did his guest want? For the better part of the day he'd been there reminiscing about life before the Stock Market crash. Why rake through a dead and overrated past? He was stalling for time. But, Montenegro knew what was in the br
iefcase that never left his friend's side. It was a dangerous thing to carry about.

  He served the cocktails cold and strong.

  -Drink up. There's plenty more.

  -You've always been well stocked, Ricardo. You're a good host.

  Montenegro sat down on the love seat opposite his friend.

  -Louis, how can I help you?

  -Do you tire of my sojourn into the past?

  -No. It's good to share a past with someone who was there. But, what is on your mind?

  -The stone...no...pieces that are in this briefcase.

  Montenegro put down his glass.

  -You had the stone cut? My God, but you're a gambler. I heard the reports on the radio. You disposed of Eisenstein and that guard.

  -I did. And, I decided not to let the radiation do its work. Don't worry. The pieces are encased in lead. You're safe enough.

  -How in the world did you get your hands on it?

  -I gave up my irrational and unfounded fear of our dead leader, Manuel Mendez.

  -You just walked in to his home and took it? I can't believe that.

  -If I knew where it was hidden, I would have. No. The eldest daughter lived in fear of it.

  -Do you blame her?

  -Let me continue. I hired a woman to make contact with Catrina Mendez at the New York hospital where she was convalescing. Yes. I've kept tabs on that one for some time. Miss Kobe offered to take the stone off her already willing hands at a handsome price. Miss Mendez, who had no scruples, agreed. And, the rest was easy.

  Octavio took a sip of his cocktail and continued.

  -Miss Mendez took the stone from wherever it was hidden and gave it to us for the agreed upon price. Miss Kobe and I were waiting in the car just down the street from the Mendez house. I drove into Manhattan and the transaction was completed just off the West Side highway. I had already dropped Miss Kobe off prior to the actual exchange of goods...and, then...

  -You killed Catrina Mendez. You shouldn't have done that, Louis.

  -Still afraid of Manuel Mendez?

  -Yes. And, with good cause. His kind pass through the veil of death and see us. I know this.

  Octavio continued as if his friend hadn't spoken.

  -I beat her to a pulp just to relieve my own frustrations. I placed her body in the trunk and waited for the appropriate time to render my crime public. I must admit that I had help.

  -Louis, I don't like it. Isn't the son a private investigator? I've read about him. He won't let this go unpunished.

  -Yes. It gave him something to do. Now, I can put my plan into action.

  -What are you planning?

  -Targets, Ricardo, have been chosen. As I told a newspaper woman this morning, it will be a demonstration of raw power.

  -Louis, where did this money come from? It had to be a great deal of money to tempt the Mendez woman.

  -It was. Let's just say that I was an intermediary acting on behalf of an international corporation...a powerful corporation.

  -I know who you speak of: Romo-Ark. It has to be. When you deal with them, you cross the line of no return.

  -You don't want to know the details. Trust me on that.

  -How did you dispose of Miss Mendez's body?

  -Others did that for me.

  Ricardo finished his cocktail.

  -And, the payoff? What is the payoff?

  -Does eight million sound agreeable to save eight million lives? Or maybe, I'll round it off to ten million.

  -And, my part in this? Another cocktail? I need one.

  -Later. I'm sending you down to Mexico. The money will be dropped off in a filthy little town just south of the capital city. You'll be waiting for it. The details, we'll work out later tonight. How are you fixed for money?

  -I have enough to last me a few months.

  -Good. Now, why don't you fix us dinner. I'm quite famished. Haven't eaten all day. You still a good chef?

  -I haven't lost my touch. But-

  -What is it? Speak up, Ricardo. You still thinking about Manuel Mendez? Forget about him.

  -He's dead and decayed to dust...we think. We saw the corpse at his wake, didn't we? Could you forget such a sight? I never will. I wanted to spit in the face of the pompous ass; but, I didn't dare. And, let me not speak of the wife!

  -You left out condescending.

  -Forgive me! I still live in fear of him. And, do not laugh at me, Louis.

  -Manuel Mendez had knowledge and power. He helped us become rich. I almost wish that the bastard were still alive.

  -I don't. I'll get dinner ready. Have another cocktail.

  Marlena Lake and Susan Broder were relaxing in the newly painted living room. It had taken on an intimate quality, which was helped by the new and more modern furniture.

  -Mother? Have you contacted Professor Moreland?

  -No. That tight-lipped secretary of his wouldn't let me through. I'll have to go there in person, which is what I prefer.

  -We are talking about the earth's possible extended orbit?

  -Among other things.

  -Not about the Diamond District murders? That's what the papers are calling it.

  -Why has the entire district been cordoned off? They hint at reasons, but don't give any specifics.

  Susan shifted in her chair.

  -Do you think Edward might know?

  -I've tried to reach him several times; but, I kept getting that sister of his. She's nice enough, but she didn't know when he'd be back and wouldn't say where he had gone.

  -When did you plan on seeing Professor Moreland? Tomorrow? May I go with you?

  -Of course, dear. You're going to drive me there.

  -I meant, may I see the professor, as well?

  -Of course you may. But, leave the talking to mother. I might have to pry some information out of him.

  -My mother...

  Louis Octavio stayed up most of the night planning that morning's events. His host was asleep and that was just as well. His plans for that morning were mass murder: a plan that he did not share with Mr. Ricardo Montenegro...although his host must have had his suspicions. Could he trust his host? Octavio had his doubts.

  He walked over to the window that faced out on to the bay. He would have to leave soon while it was still dark. What time was it? He looked at his wristwatch: 3:30 A.M. He had a long way to go and his timetable had to be met. As many people had to be killed as possible.

  Ricardo Montenegro walked into the living room. He was dressed and holding a fountain pen.

  -I couldn't sleep. Can I get you anything, Louis?

  -No. Thank you. I didn't get much sleep myself.

  He noticed Louis' fountain pen.

  -Have you been writing in your journal? I know that you keep one.

  -Only my own musings. Nothing more.

  Liar.

  -I'll be on my way soon. And, Ricardo, book your flight as soon as possible. After today, it will be dangerous for you to stay here.

  -I'll call the airport as soon as it's light outside.

  -Why not go to the Port Authority and leave the city by bus? It will throw anyone looking for you off the track.

  -No. I have things to attend to here. I'll probably leave the day after tomorrow.

  -Suit yourself; but, I'm relying on you.

  -I won't disappoint you. So, how many people will be killed?

  -Don't concern yourself with that. You still have a conscience and that, my friend, is a pity.

  Montenegro went into the kitchen to make some coffee. He glanced out the window and noticed a gray van parked outside.

  December 2, 1948

  The Subway Tunnel

  Six

  EDWARD PUT his Fedora back on. He was sitting in his Ford that was parked among several dozen on the ferry to Staten Island. He offered Yolanda a cigarette which she refused.

  -Better light up now before we go out on deck. It's pretty windy out there.

/>   -Don't tempt me. I am in training even though I took a day off.

  -Which reminds me. Why the sudden change in plans? Didn't you have a practice session scheduled for today?

  -I did. But, my coach called me last night and canceled. He said it would do us both good to take a day off. It's just as bad to over train as it is to under train, you know. Does that make sense? If it does, please explain it to me.

  Edward laughed.

  -It does. Let's go out on deck and get some fresh air. It'll make up for all the fumes I'm inhaling.

  -Okay.

  Edward had to hold on to his Fedora to keep it from blowing off.

  -It's a lot windier out here than I thought. Yolanda, you speak fluent Spanish, right?

  She tightened her kerchief about her head.

  -Pretty fluent. You need a translator?

  -As a matter of fact, I do. We're heading to see a Mr. Ricardo Montenegro who is a former member of my father's lodge.

  Yolanda held on to Edward.

  -I wish I had known your father. He seems so interesting and...

  -Diabolical?

  -Yes!

  Edward tossed his cigarette into the water.

  -And, dangerous.

  -So, why are we seeing Mr. Montenegro?

  -To informally interrogate him. And, to see if he has any connection with or information about Mr. Louis Octavio.

  -And, you're sure Mr. Octavio is the one who killed those two men in the Diamond District?

  -I'm betting on it.

  -Edward, what about that threatening phone call to Ginny Gray?

  -Could have been a prank or something legit. We can't ignore it. We don't dare ignore it.

  The two of them were silent for a few moments.

  -Yolanda? Have you noticed any gray vans, lately?

  -Gray vans? No... I don't think so. Why do you ask? And, light another cigarette so that I may smell the smoke.

  -You're a character, baby. Here goes.

  Edward lit up and blew the smoke in his girlfriend's face.

  -Ricardo? Call me as soon as you can. I'll be staying at the usual hotel in midtown under an assumed name. You have the details. I need to know where you are.