Fool's Run

by Sidney Williams

  “You’re gonna want the Holsts out of their house,” I’d told Rose. “Ten minutes ago. Got me?”

  “Talk to you soon,” she said without hesitation.

  By 2 a.m. we’d settled into the common area of a little blue and white guest cottage in the town’s historic area, piled on padded sofas, sipping beers and soft drinks. I was relieved when Arch mentioned he’d put modified plates on the car as a matter of course. That helped everyone if they muscled security footage out of the garage.

  “We stumbled into it,” I said when questioning began. I wished they could just cut us a check and let us be on our way. I wanted to be on the road long before anyone got around to checking the club’s security footage. I’d be a blur, but that didn’t stop me from looking over my shoulder.

  More than the money, at the moment, I wanted to detach from the family reunion, let them have their privacy and avoid questions and discussion. They’d already asked a couple of times about Dagney. Was she alive? Did Dahlia know where she was?

  “Where’s he kept you?” Grace wanted to know as Dahlia worked on a club sandwich.

  “I’ve stayed a few places.”

  She was generally tight lipped, but she talked about some kind of ex-stripper den mother and a house off the quarter, promising she hadn’t been molested. She hadn’t seen Dagney there.

  They were going to want her found, and that sounded like a job for the cops or a big agency, not an addendum for me. I detached Rose from the crowd and guided her out to the porch. Arch could thank me later for leaving him behind to watch the bonding experience.

  Outside, the air wanted to attach itself, and mosquitos dive-bombed in spite of the haint blue porch ceiling, but it gave us some privacy.

  “Have you heard anything about my kid yet?”

  I wanted to facilitate a family reunion of my own.

  Her head tipped down for several seconds as if the porch planks had a really interesting stain or a hidden message in the wood grain.

  “We don’t know a specific location,” she said.

  “Fill me in.”

  “It still looks like Florida, but they’re off the grid. More effectively than you usually see.”

  “Some money would be nice, we pinpoint something. I could snatch Juli myself, and head for somewhere in the Caribbean they don’t send you back from too readily.”

  “I can’t suborn illegal activity, but I could check on the spots with good schools.”

  That highlighted the absurdity of the idea a bit. I’d be limiting my daughter’s options even as I sought to keep her safe. Though she would be considerably better off there than at a shooting gallery or even fetching Sandra’s mom lemonades or more likely Long Island Iced Teas.

  There was a bright side. If I could avoid notice regarding The Runnel and dodge going back to David Wade, Sandra and Finn would eventually get picked up for possession or some crime aimed at funding their next fix. That would make me look like Father of the Year in family court. It’d almost tip things in my favor.

  “Are the Holsts going to pay or are we going to have to renegotiate?”

  “That hasn’t come up yet.”

  “A live daughter’s got to be worth at least as much as a dead gangster.”

  “Maybe you should approach them now while the elation’s high.”

  “Maybe we should give them a little time and approach in the morning. I hope you got separate cottages. I don’t want to have to see Arch in his skivvies.

  In my cottage, I dreamed again of Juli on a sunny beach. She ran. I’m not sure my dream applied that slow motion effect you’d see in a movie or on a home video camera, but I remembered it that way. She jogged across white sand, splashed in waves and then Sandra and a man with no face intercepted her, and I was pulled back somehow, drawn away, watching them grow smaller and smaller as they stood waving, Julianna with a big and joyous smile.

  Chapter 21

  In the morning, with soft sunlight streaming through the oaks and the wind tickling banana plants along the property line, I felt like I’d awakened in some subtropical middle American Dream neighborhood.

  I sat on the porch sipping coffee maker output and looking across at the pastel cottages with white paint gleaming around the windows and at the corners. I tried to slough off the dregs of dream that were darker than the coffee.

  The Holsts were probably enjoying a flashback to a previous world, waking up with their child in the house, waking with part of the bleak emptiness inside filled, waking to a world on its side but not upside down.

  I was anxious to get moving. We couldn’t sit here for long. They’d start thinking not about what they had but what was still missing, and I didn’t need to be in the vicinity at all when the authorities came. The FBI needed to be involved, and I wanted to be long gone.

  I was nearing the bottom of my second cup when Rose came drifting across the grassy expanse between cottages. Barefoot, wearing a simple white cotton dress, she fit into the fantasy scenario, breeze toying with the skirt and the wavy hemline below her knees. I had an extra chair, but she stopped on the steps and leaned against the railing, and I felt like we were in a Tennessee Williams play for a moment.

  “I don’t guess you have a check in a pocket somewhere.”

  She curled her lips inward and shook her head a couple of tics.

  “They want to talk to you.”

  “Really a thank you note would do.”

  Her head moved from side to side again.

  “They don’t want to pay?” I asked.

  “It’s not about welching, but they have two daughters.” Emphasis on the two.

  “I was only supposed to kill one guy.”

  “Remember, I don’t know what arrangements you had with the Holsts, but they’d like to talk with you about amending the details.”

  “Right, Special Counsel.”

  “This should be more in the line you’re comfortable with,” Adam said.

  He looked a little less like a lost tourist. He’d had time to splash water on his face, and I had a sense he’d found a few minutes to rehearse.

  “If we’d hired you to investigate up front—”

  “We might not be where we are,” I said. “If you had investigators on Alexeeva’s trail, and she stayed below radar, this is nothing but a supreme bit of luck. They weren’t looking for a live girl, and that helped, but neither was I.”

  “He figured we’d stopped looking. If Dahlia is still alive, Dagney could still be alive, and—”

  “And you need an agency and an agency’s resources. Not me and my makeshift crew.”

  “You know what we lay awake all night thinking about,” Adam said. “What he might have her doing. What she might be forced to do.”

  “Doesn’t look like he did that to Dahlia, thank God.”

  “He might have had plans. Something to twist the knife in you, so to speak.”

  “Dagney was younger. So beautiful. God, I’m asking where he might have sent her.”

  No one wanted to say the word trafficking. I’d sniffed nothing to indicate Alexeeva’s business interests veered in that direction, but it would be no surprise if he diversified. The only comfort came in the fact that didn’t seem to be his use of Dahlia, the one I’d just found.

  For her to have been invisible at the height of inquiries meant he’d kept her under wraps somewhere for a while, though, maybe even out of the country. He’d have had her somewhere not connected to him, somewhere that couldn’t be associated with him.

  It was pretty bold to let her work on the street now. Maybe he used the younger sibling for intimidation and control. There’d been hints he’d threatened her parents if she failed to cooperate.

  The terrified version of Juli in a dank chamber flashed into my mind. I had to look over at an abstract painting on the wall to stop that flow of thought, but it gave me a hint of how Holst must be feeling now.

  “I can’t just leave her to a life this man controls,” he was saying.

&n
bsp; “All the more reason to pump your cash into a well-organized and focused investigation. You need the kind of agency that won’t hire me right now. I can give you the names of guys that can handle it. Ex-cops just like me….”

  “We pumped money into big agencies. Nothing.”

  “There’s more to go on. They can talk to Dahlia. They’ll have databases, teams for surveillance. He’s guilty of kidnapping and she can testify to that.”

  “He’ll deny it and lawyer up, and she’s just a kid. They’ll twist what she says.”

  He was right about that.

  “You could have him picked up and Dagney’s location could still be leveraged in a plea deal.”

  “You know he’s got his trail covered, and he’s clearly got friends. He’s developed more friendships and protectors over the past few years. She’s a runaway with a fanciful story who wandered into his club. He won’t give Dagney up for, I don’t know, spite.”

  He had thought it through in the night. Alexeeva’s story would have even more nuance, and he had a twisted sense of everything. That was becoming clear.

  “I had dealings with a businessman a while back, a man originally from Russia,” Adam said. “This was at a time it really looked like there might be legitimate deals to be made with Alexeeva, when I was still considering whether to work with him. I should have listened. This man warned me even if Alexeeva wanted to work toward respectability, he had had dealings with people he believed were dark and heavy handed, and he said possibly worse. I didn’t press him. I think he was trying to warn me that Alexeeva played long games and kept a lot of balls in the air for later use. He really is the devil. We weren’t making that up.”

  “Who was that businessman?”

  “Gregory Vitalievich, currency dealer. Respected and above board. If he’s right and Alexeeva has some weird, long game going, then he’s still got Dagney or access to her, and he has some scheme to maximize our pain.”

  “Again, all the more reason to hire a big firm or go straight to the cops.”

  “Rose mentioned something about the new developments in your situation.”

  Of course she had. They were her client. I wasn’t.

  “We’ll pay you the full fee we offered, whatever information you turn up about Dagney. You don’t have to put her in our hands, but we have to know.”

  “We looking at half otherwise?”

  He looked at me for a moment, solemn and silent. “Yes. We’ll honor the agreement. We’ll make a payment that brings you up to half for what you’ve accomplished. That’s half if you walk away. I’m sorry, but that’s the only card I have.”

  Half wouldn’t take me as far toward Juli as all. I turned over possibilities in my mind. Was there some way I could make the gig look like gainful employment? Probably not, though given the first assignment, I’d found a little high ground with this proposition.

  The bottom line: more cash would be better.

  How much more dangerous would Alexeeva be in this situation? I’d already risked getting on his radar. Digging deeper wouldn’t go without notice.

  “Expenses could mount up,” I said. “More so than before. We may need to dangle a carrot in front of him to dig deeper. That’s a dangerous game.”

  “What’s this carrot related to?”

  “I don’t have a plan yet, but I picked up an inkling he had an interest in a Ponzi scheme. It’s something he’s trying to get a slice of.”

  “Just run the big costs by me.”

  “I still need to think about it.”

  “Take a walk by the lake, Mr. Reardon. Get some fresh air. Give it some thought. Think about what we all have to gain or lose.”

  “If anything, he’s going to be more dangerous,” I repeated to Arch. “He’s going to be alert now and pick up on any sniffing around.”

  “A given,” Arch said. He’d joined me for my walk. “You know the obvious response for me here is `not my circus.’”

  “I’d understand that. You’ve never had any dealings with him, right? Head back to your compound, grow your beard back and you have only the ATF to worry about.”

  “They’re going to be reviewing whatever security video they have. It’s not going to be clear, but you’re not completely unknown. If the court would allow it, leaving the state might not be a bad idea for you in case you’re recognizable.”

  “Since I can’t?”

  “Maybe keeping tabs on him’s the best option, watching until he makes a wrong move. Getting paid for what you need to do anyway isn’t a bad idea.”

  “If he’s still got the other girl and he’s been playing a mind game with the Holsts, he’s going to put her even deeper under wraps. I don’t think he’s going to just let her waltz through his club like Dahlia.”

  “Why did he still have these girls? Or why did he have the one you found? It’s kind of insane, dangerous, and in his world not very objective oriented. I hate to say it, but in his world, their highest purpose isn’t running numbers or whatever she was doing.”

  “Agreed. We’ve been talking about that. Maybe Mr. Holst is right. Maybe there’s a reveal coming on the older daughter. Fate worse than death to drive them further toward insanity and grief.”

  “Jesus. What a mind fucker he is.”

  “Maybe there’s a way to leverage him if we’re going to get anywhere,” I said. “Maybe there’s something we can do, play a long game of our own.”

  “You keep saying `we.’”

  “I took a writing correspondence course in prison. It’s the editorial we.”

  “Yeah, maybe you should start a blog. Document his activity” He raised his hands. “You really gotta think about it. I gotta think about it. Kenneth and I can take care of ourselves, but this guy’s a dangerous character to piss off.“

  “So I’ve noticed.”

  The sun had climbed higher and, despite a breeze off the lake, was starting to warm the morning air. It reminded me the world did not stay cool for long. Then I thought of Juli, and the world was not filled with breezes and sunlight any longer, and the bucolic paradise seemed false and sour.

  Part 2

  The Search

  Chapter 22

  I asked Adam Holst if the business acquaintance he’d mentioned would be willing to talk to me. We all decided it might be a good idea for me to get his perspective on twisted goals, and I had a little more freedom in talking to people for an investigation than in planning an assassination.

  I’d almost decided to move ahead. I could still get into trouble, as far as licensure and handling things that should be turned over to the cops, but I had more moral high ground and fewer concerns about leaving a trail even though I needed to stay off Alexeeva’s radar.

  I claimed the meeting would help me decide, but I’d pretty much made up my mind. There wasn’t time to waste on any front.

  We also decided it would be a good idea for the Holsts to stay off the grid, so it was through Rose, I got a meeting with Gregory Vitalievich at Meridian Investments.

  The offices were in a gray stone building a few blocks from Broad. I had slipped back into my suit, and I made sure my shirt was tucked in well as I waited in the lobby until the AC cooled away my perspiration from the walk from the parking garage. Then I took the elevator up to face a receptionist with dark hair, an Irish Channel accent and an interest in appointments and intentions.

  I told them, in a matter-of-fact fashion, that Rose Cantor had sent me. It was about possible security work for Mr. Vitalievich. Word hadn’t filtered out here. She informed me that Mr. Vitalievich was very busy, but she buzzed something that brought forth a woman of about fifty in a smart gray suit that matched the iron streaks in her hair. They conferred in hushed voices a while, and then the grey-suited woman disappeared.

  When she returned, she said Mr. Vitalievich would make a few minutes for me.

  He proved to be a tall man with hair color about the same as that of what I’d decided must be his executive assistant. His three-piece suit, t
he jacket of which was on a wooden hanger on an elegant hook behind him, was a shade darker, nearing charcoal grey with a subtle window pane check.

  “Would you like a drink, Mr. Reardon?”

  I declined with a gesture.

  “I suppose this little talk was arranged to allow you a bit of background for whatever you’re undertaking.”

  “I suppose that would be right.”

  “A memory of mine might at least be of general use to you. I issued a warning some time back about a business deal, a warning of treading with caution if it involved a certain individual.”

  He’d worked hard on his English and his accent, and he was choosing words carefully.

  “I see,” I said.

  “Meridian is a successful business and a scrupulously legal one, Mr. Reardon. We deal in international investments and currency transactions. Those are looked on with some scrutiny these days.”

  “Makes it hard on the terrorists?”

  “That’s what it’s intended to do. Doesn’t help common criminals nor honest businessmen either. Makes all of us adhere to regulations and fill out more forms. My partner and I came to the U.S. to be successful and most important of all to be honest. Some choose a different path and pursue less than legitimate avenues.”

  “So sometime early on while you were being scrupulous and everything, you got a call from the thieves in law back home?”

  His face lost a little color with the mention of the old-school name.

  “Not in-laws of mine. Tendrils of old ways reach forward,” he said.

  “So, the old friend wanted to infiltrate your business?”

  “Never a friend. Never friendly, but essentially yes.”

  He decided to pour himself a drink. He took a swallow before sitting down again. “We can drop the delicate dancing, and I will trust you, Mr. Reardon.”

  “I need to trust you can be discreet as well. In the future.”

  “Of course. Officially, this conversation was solely about a security job for you that didn’t work out.”