In Your Name, page 13
Harper persisted in championing the forced entry approach until one evening he looked through the kitchen window and saw Jeb Huxton sitting at the large oak table. He had interrupted his normal ritual of shouting at the TV to enjoy a beer and clean his guns. It was difficult to tell, but Harper estimated there were at least five different firearms laid across the table. Harper was so preoccupied trying to identify the stocks, barrels and magazines he almost missed Jenny-Jay entering the room. She sat down next to her husband and began assembling components as casually as if she were putting the blades into her Magimix.
With that amount of firepower, coupled with that amount of expertise, an approach based on deception now seemed to Harper to be the best way forward.
Lucas’s plan was bold and required confidence but with a soft touch. The problem was they’d only have one shot at it and there was no plan B.
They would hire a wheelchair-accessible vehicle, wait for Jeb to go to work and simply knock on the front door. The storyline was they had come to collect Jo and take her to the Sunny Village nursing home in Clover Heights. It was a week’s respite organised by Jo’s sister. Harper had paid Sunny Village a visit and managed to come away with a professional glossy brochure, a current price list and a pad of letterheaded paper.
They rehearsed what they were going to say until it was word perfect and were well prepared for the ‘I know nothing about this’ reaction. The whole strategy hinged on them being persuasive and believable.
Once they had Jo, they needed somewhere to keep her out of sight. Lucas sourced a nursing home in a place called Victorville to the east of Los Angeles and arranged for her to be admitted for a week. The downside was it was a three-hour drive away, which made it a logistical nightmare. The upside was there was a high probability that Mechanic wouldn’t be able to locate her. They briefly considered keeping Jo themselves at a motel but quickly dismissed it as a bad idea. They couldn’t cope with her needs and, despite Harper’s opinion to the contrary, it still seemed sensible she was kept alive.
Setting up the communications link with Mechanic was complex and high risk. If they used telephones to make contact she would inevitably figure out the call locations and come after them. Lucas had fallen foul of Mechanic’s abilities to work her magic with a telecoms network before and was not about to repeat it. They had to make their demands in a way which could not be traced back. There had to be a physical cut-off between them and the messages. The solution was newspaper advertisements.
The Vegas Bulletin was a free paper, circulated daily, which printed classified ads for local businesses in the area. It also had an extensive personal section where the seedier side of Vegas touted for custom. Strip joints and massage services covered almost as many column inches as the more traditional trades. The paper accepted adverts on a daily basis over the phone and a one-off payment of a hundred bucks bought you twenty ads. You placed your ad one day for it to appear the next. Another advantage was that they accepted cash.
The sequencing of the ads was important. Lucas wanted Mechanic to receive two messages on the day they took Jo. This would maximise the shock and keep her off balance. He preordered the opening ad to go to press the day before the snatch. Lucas would place the second ad for it to be printed on the day.
During the pickup Lucas would give Jenny-Jay a sealed envelope to pass on to Mechanic. The cover story was that it contained administrative paperwork. It actually contained the personal ads page from the Bulletin with advert number one.
Once Jo was safely in the van they would to ask Jenny-Jay to put a courtesy call through to Mechanic to let her know Jo had been collected safely. They figured this would have a bombshell effect and compel Mechanic to head straight for the Huxton place. Jenny-Jay would give the envelope to Mechanic and bang! – message number one delivered. This would lead her to that day’s newspaper and bang! – message number two delivered.
Once Mechanic was hooked, they would run a series of daily ads detailing how the trade was to take place and how she was to give herself up. It was far from ideal, but then when could any of this be described as ideal?
After four days of quarrelling, frantic planning and acute boredom, Lucas and Harper pulled the hired van onto the dirt track leading to Honeydew House. It felt odd to drive past their usual pull-in place, where they had previously observed the comings and goings from a safe distance. Both men were silent, both awash with nervous anxiety.
They passed through the wide front gates and killed the engine. Lucas cast a sideways glance at Harper.
‘Remember, keep it light, keep it conversational and smile. Any problems and we walk away.’
Harper nodded and stepped out of the van. They were both dressed in white two-piece coveralls purchased from a DIY superstore. At least it went some way towards giving the impression of clinical care. Lucas rapped on the door.
They could hear voices from inside and Jenny-Jay opened the door.
She shielded her eyes against the morning sun. ‘Yes, can I help you?’
‘Good morning, ma’am, we are from the Sunny Village nursing home in Clover Heights.’ Lucas smiled and consulted his clipboard. ‘We are here to pick up Jo.’
Jenny-Jay Huxton furrowed her brow.
Lucas continued, ‘Ma’am we have a pick up time of 10.30am. Is she ready? I believe she has a wheelchair.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry but there seems to be some confusion,’ said Jenny-Jay holding her hands up in a gesture of apology.
‘Ma’am, Jo’s sister arranged for her to stay with us at Sunny Village and we kind of assumed she would have told you. She booked Jo in for a week. It’s to give you a break and for Jo to have a change of scenery.’
‘No, no, no, I don’t think that’s right.’ Jenny-Jay shook her head.
Lucas consulted his clipboard once more and handed it to her. The headed paper had their name, address and pick-up time clearly typed across it. There was no mention of Jo’s surname or Mechanic’s. It was the best Harper could do given the time.
‘We have another guest to collect this morning, ma’am, so if we could get Jo settled into the vehicle we’ll be on our way.’ Harper smiled, reciting his lines perfectly.
‘You don’t understand, there must be some mistake,’ Jenny-Jay said.
‘Sorry, ma’am, but there seems to be a slight breakdown in communications here.’ Lucas waved his hand at the clipboard. ‘I’m sure you can sort it out later with Jo’s sister. She was really excited about Jo going on this mini-break. She’ll have a fabulous time with us at Sunny Village.’
Jenny-Jay looked at the paper and back to Lucas and Harper. It was not going well.
‘Ma’am, if we could pick up Jo and we’ll be on our way.’ Harper was still manically smiling.
‘But she’s not here.’ Jenny-Jay handed back the documentation.
‘She’s not?’ replied Lucas.
‘No, the other people came and picked her up earlier this morning.’
‘The other people?’ said Lucas.
‘Yeah, he was from …’ She disappeared inside and returned holding a piece of paper with a logo on the top. ‘Forever Young. A home for the young at heart.’ She offered the document to Lucas who read it and passed it to Harper.
‘Jo left this morning you say?’ It was Harper’s turn to look confused.
‘Yup. Jessica, Jo’s sister, must have made two bookings or something, because a nice young man came and took Jo there this morning.’
Lucas and Harper were stuck for words. Their careful scripting had not considered this eventuality.
Jenny-Jay reached across and took the paper from Harper.
‘She must have got confused somewhere along the way. She works so hard, I expect she got her wires crossed. Sorry, gentlemen, but looks like the other place got the booking and not you.’
Lucas and Harper were stunned into silence.
Jenny-Jay continued, ‘Mind you, I think it’s highly sensible that Sunny Village has sent two of you to collect her. The other lot weren’t very well set up at all.’
‘How do you mean, not well set up?’ asked Lucas.
‘Well I mean I had to help the poor chap. Not his fault I know and it is good that they’re encouraging people back into useful work. But I mean it wasn’t right.’
Lucas’s sixth sense made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
‘What wasn’t right, Mrs Huxton?’
‘Well I mean, fancy sending a young chap to collect someone in a wheelchair when he’s only got one arm.’
30
Moran sat in Brennan’s office waiting. He was already fifteen minutes late and she was starting to understand her place in the office pecking order, a realisation which didn’t sit well with her at all.
In her last workplace Moran’s life in uniform was fast and furious, but for everyone else it was relatively steady and mundane. Her drive and determination was relentless and, for the people she worked with, completely exhausting. She burned with an intensity which was hard to live with. Her career was everything and she made sure people knew it.
A series of failed relationships forced her to take stock of her life. She needed to ease back a little. Work got in the way of everything and while she knew it was the major contributory factor to her still being single at thirty-one, she preferred to put that down to a bad choice of men.
Her decision to reappraise her life and modify her ambition lasted less than twenty-four hours. The very next day she put in for a transfer to Vegas. A month later and she moved into a new flat with her new job in homicide. Ease back a little? What had she been thinking …
As she sat waiting, she could feel the adrenaline coursing through her. There were inconsistencies between the latest killings and the usual turf war hits. She prided herself on spotting patterns and inconsistencies which others would overlook, and the recent killings struck her as odd.
Brennan blustered in, with no apology, and flopped down behind his desk.
‘How you doing? I didn’t get to have that coffee with you, did I?’
‘No sir, but that’s fine.’
‘We must do that. Anyway, you wanted to see me.’
‘Yes, it’s about the bodies you sent me to look at in the mortuary and the drug-related murders from the other night.’
‘Okay, what’s up?’
‘It’s the unusual nature of the murders, sir. On the surface it looks like a turf war but the method of killing doesn’t stack up. Usually when one gang goes up against another—’
‘Mills is running with this, right?’ he interrupted.
‘Yes sir, he’s the detective in charge.’
‘What does he think?’
‘Well he’s of the opinion there’s nothing out of the ordinary.’
‘Then that’s good, right? I mean we have this happen on a regular basis.’
‘I understand that but I think this is different. I’ve looked at the records going back and where one gang takes out another there’s a recognised formula. This doesn’t follow the pattern. I’ve listed the inconsistencies here.’ She handed him a document.
What does Mills think?’ he said scanning it.
‘He says it’s no different.’
‘Then that’s the answer, isn’t it?’
‘But, sir, in the past the MO is always hit them hard, hit them fast, then get the hell out of there. The first set of killings had characteristics of torture, this was anything but a drive-by shooting.’
‘It’s bad guys killing bad guys, there are bound to be minor differences.’
‘Yes sir, I get that but this is way off the norm. This is more like—’ Brennan interrupted again.
‘Have you spoken to Mills about this? Have you shared your observations with him?’
‘Yes sir, I have. He says “This is Vegas”.’
‘Look, Mills is a good cop. He can be a little off at times, but then can’t we all? He’s seen this kind of thing time and time again. I’ll talk to him if you like. Thanks for this.’ He placed her work on top of a huge pile of papers.
It looked as if the conversation was over.
‘Thank you, sir,’ was all she could think to say, other than, Fucking listen to me! which she kept firmly in her head.
31
Lucas and Harper were back at their black hole of a bar. It was 1.30pm but the ambient lighting made it feel more like three in the morning. The bar glowed with a red and white fluorescent haze from the Budweiser signs on the wall. Harper sat at a small round table in the corner. A narrow cone of light illuminated two glasses of soda and a stack of sandwiches piled up on a plate.
Lucas appeared out of the gloom to join him.
‘Well?’ asked Harper devouring his lunch.
‘Spoke to his father and he says he’s been on a “discover yourself” kind of road trip. Seems he’s a lot better and this is all part of the getting himself back together. He wouldn’t give me any specifics and doesn’t know where he is now. He’s been gone around two weeks and hasn’t left any forwarding address.’ Lucas pulled a well-filled sandwich from the pile.
They were both numb following the events of the morning.
‘I went to Forever Young and they’ve not received any new patients and they don’t have anyone on their staff with one arm. It has to be him. It has to be Bassano. It’s too much of a coincidence.’ Harper slurped the soda through a straw.
‘I can’t get my head around it. Why the hell would Bassano want to take Jo Sells?’
‘The same reason you do.’ The voice came out of the shadows.
It was Chris Bassano.
He reached the table and pulled up a chair. In the poor light there appeared nothing amiss with the tall dark-haired Italian dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. He sat down with his elbows on the table.
‘Afternoon, boss,’ he said nodding towards Lucas. ‘Nice to see you both again.’
He edged the chair forward and the cone of light caught his face. It was much improved from the last time Lucas saw him, the deep purple scars had faded into a thin cobweb of red lines which ran across his face. The dentist had done a good job replacing the missing teeth and his nose looked normal as opposed to the flattened pulp Lucas had witnessed at the hospital. There were slight bald patches in his hairline where the skin grafts had taken, but on the whole he looked in good order. His hands were clasped in front of him, or more accurately one hand and a metallic hook. The three men stared at one another, no one spoke. Then delayed reaction kicked in.
‘How the hell …’ Lucas stood up, half a sandwich hanging from his mouth. Harper choked on his soda.
‘Do you have her?’ Harper blurted out the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, spitting droplets of soda onto the table.
‘Yup,’ Bassano said nodding his head.
‘Where is she?’ Lucas said.
‘At my motel. I rented another room and she’s there.’
‘Jesus Christ.’ Harper looked at the ceiling.
‘What … How …?’ Lucas was struggling with his mouth full of meat and bread.
‘I did the same thing you were thinking, I guess. Snatch Jo Sells and use her to get to her psycho sister.’
‘How did you know where she was? How did you know she was still alive?’ asked Lucas, the questions tumbling out.
‘I didn’t. The boys down at the station tipped me off about the concealed room and about you being involved. It was a big topic of conversation because the big boss man got covered in shit or something. Anyway, I figured it was time to get back in the game and this seemed like a good time.’
‘Yes, but how did you know about Vegas?’ asked Harper.
‘I didn’t, I followed you.’
‘What!’
‘I used to be a detective, remember, and you guys leave a trail so wide a kid could follow. I came down to Florida to pick up where we left off and found you two up to your asses in tracking Mechanic. I figured you wouldn’t react kindly to dragging along a cripple, so I sat back and let you get on with it. Joining the dots, I ended up here in Vegas. I figured this must be where Mechanic was hanging out and then discovered the unexpected bonus, her sister Jo.’
‘But how did you find out about Jo?’ asked Harper.
‘I followed you to the Huxton place. It wasn’t difficult.’
‘Did you go to Baton Rouge as well?’ asked Lucas.
‘Hell no, I heard about that but there was definitely something odd about that letter. I mean why would Mechanic give herself away like that, when essentially she’d slipped the net. It made no sense. No, Baton Rouge wasn’t worth the effort.’
Lucas smarted at the blunt analysis.
‘So how did you decide to …’ Harper didn’t finish his sentence.
‘I took Jo when I had the chance with a cover story that I was from a nursing home taking Jo for a break. The Huxton woman bought it.’
Lucas looked at Harper and closed his eyes.
‘That was our plan. We turned up shortly after you, looking like fucking lemons.’
‘Well we have her now.’ Bassano shrugged his shoulders.
‘Tell me again,’ asked Harper. ‘Why have you snatched Jo?’
‘Two reasons. The first is to kill the bastard that done this.’ Bassano held up his right arm and waved the hook in the air.
‘And the second?’ asked Lucas.
‘To prove to you two that I still got it.’
‘You didn’t need to do that.’ Lucas leaned over and put his hand on Bassano’s shoulder. ‘It’s good to see you. I was worried. You wouldn’t return my calls or letters.’
‘I was in a bad place and feeling sorry for myself. There was a rage inside me and I no longer had the tools to do anything about it. It ground me to a standstill.’
‘You were in a shocking state, and when your folks decided you could no longer cope, that was it. You disappeared,’ Lucas said.
