Blood Red Star

by Mark Walker

  Boss Stilton sat casually with a hip on the edge of the desk across from Riggs. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silk handkerchief, which he opened to reveal the Blood Stars, still on the necklace Ginger Vitis had worn earlier.

  He held them up in front of Riggs. They were indeed stunning. “Can you imagine what these little dinguses will bring? In just a few hours, I’ll be one of the richest men in all England.” He rose, taking center stage, and looked round the penthouse. “I hate to have to give all this up. It took a long time getting here, but I’ll have plenty of swag once the Blood Stars are auctioned off.” He went back to his desk and reached underneath. Riggs heard a small click and a whine.

  Tex went toward the lift, but instead veered to the small paneled area beside it where twin bookcases stood at right angles. That was when Riggs noticed the tiny red light near the cornice at the top of the paneling. Tex pressed a hidden button. “Don’t try to open the door yet, you’ll drop into space,” called Stilton. “Wait till you see the green light when the cage arrives. Otherwise that last step is a doozy.” In another minute there was another barely audible click, and Riggs saw the red light replaced by a green one. Tex slid the panel aside to reveal the small, private self-service lift. He entered and the door closed. Riggs noticed the red light come back on.

  Boss Stilton said, “That’s the only way in or out of the room now. The roof is closed off. We’ll seal the hatch down to the club. The other lift has to be summoned from here to work. But the secret lift goes the entire height of the building plus two stories below, to my ‘other quarters,’ shall we say.”

  “They’ve always said you’re slick, but you’re really one better. You’re a bag of tricks, you are. You’re so clever, why not run an honest business?”

  Bruno Stilton smiled and crossed round to the bar behind his desk. He took out a silver shaker and the appropriate accoutrements, and began mixing the famous Cosmopolitan. “My granddad was a rag and bottle man in our slum; my old man was a small-time grifter. Always on the fiddle, always on the game. A confidence trickster, when he was sober that is, and when he wasn’t beating me and Mum; but then he got sent up for a long stretch in Dartmoor and died there. Then it was just Mum and me.

  “Until the day I determined I was going to beat them at their own game and be my own man, my own way. I was going to get everything I could off anybody, anytime, any place, anywhere I wanted, when I wanted—and because I could.” He finished shaking, poured the pinkish-red mixture into two chilled glasses, and brought them over to Riggs.

  “Bit of a problem we have here, Mr. Stilton,” said Riggs, nodding to his handcuffed wrists behind him.

  “Yes,” replied Stilton silkily. “Tell you what.” He set the cocktail glasses down. “I’ll undo one of your hands.” He made fast work of it, cuffing the left to the tube chair and presenting the cocktail to Riggs’s right hand, which gratefully accepted it.

  “Thanks. I could use a drink about now.”

  “To crime! Cheers!” said Stilton, raising his glass.

  But before he started to drink, Riggs added, “And to punishment! Cheers!” He drank some of the cranberry-flavored cocktail. It was tartish sweet, with a kick of vodka and triple-sec, and it was delicious.

  “Cosmos and Blood Stars go well together, don’t you think?” said Stilton. “Just about the same color, too,” he remarked, as he held up the Blood Stars.

  Riggs had another good, long swallow. “I approve. Of the cocktail, that is. Not of what you’re doing or your motives, not that that really matters.” He took another sip of the Cosmo. “I do like it, very much. Tastes a bit gaudy, though it does rather remind me of a girl I met a long time ago in Monte Carlo.” He paused, still smiling. “So, Bruno Stilton, boss of the Black and Blue Hand, let’s get down to cases. What’s it all about? Why steal the Blood Star from the Royal Academy? And where did the other Blood Star come from?”

  “Come, come, of course you know,” he prodded. “So you like the Cosmo, Inspector? I knew you would.” Boss Stilton smiled thinly.

  “I know that you must have already had possession of the first Blood Star, the one that was stolen many years ago. Hmmm… The age would fit, and you were right here in London then.” Riggs smiled broadly. “You burgled it yourself, and you’ve had it all these years. Then you saw a chance to gain the other Blood Star. Am I right?”

  “You’re close, but it’s a little more complicated than that.”

  “Ah, Ginger Vitis. Yes, of course. She’s the one who wanted both Blood Stars. She cajoled you into getting the other one for her.”

  “You catch on brilliantly. Well, Inspector, you’ve seen her. She is impossible to resist—at least most men find her so. She’s also impossible in that red-headed brain of hers. And that’s why I’m in this mess, and why you and I are even having this conversation.”

  A buzzer sounded from Boss Stilton’s desk. He moved to it and picked up the silver phone. “Yes, Tex. Good. Good. Remember, the fireworks start at ten minutes to two.” His eyes were slits, and his brow under the tall hair was brooding. “And, Tex, leave the lift down. I’ll send for it when we’re ready to leave.”

  Far below them, the police and Scotland Yard had surrounded the Tip Top Club, and the searchlights that had previously been used to highlight the building were now being used to probe the roofline and windows. The club’s doormen and ushers (all members of the Hand), though superbly attired, were quickly held in check by the swarms of police and detectives. Even so, they met their first obstacles to gaining the club. The lifts were all shut off and positioned on higher floors.

  With Brendalynn gone, Sergeant Bellows was somewhat at odds over what to do with Michael and Mandy, but they insisted they be allowed to help in the search. They soon discovered little Jen in one of the stairways on the first floor. She wasn’t even crying, and excitedly recounted her tale, ending with the rooftop fight. “We must get up there!” vowed Bellows. Inspector Blaney had already raised a squad of men with Inspector Saunders in charge to take a Zeppo, commandeered from a local Zeppo rank, and lay siege to the roof. The only problem was, they had no one to dock the Zeppo, and it was now ineffectually flying in circles round the great cocktail glass.

  Boss Stilton’s oily voice was speaking again. “Yes, she is a Babe, and has been. But lately she’s been a problem. Of course she wanted to have both the Blood Stars for herself. Wanted them so badly, she horned in on the actual heist itself. It’s a miracle it came off at all. We held the Blood Star in safekeeping until the heat wore off. Then Tex was to collect it from Miss Chillglass, whom I’m sure you have surmised by now…’’

  “Was paymaster for the Hand,” finished Riggs, “and …” he looked Boss Stilton in the eye, “and something else I gather, both past and present.”

  “Precisely. You are very quick on the uptake, Inspector. Anyway, Tex was to pick up the dingus for delivery to Miss Vitis. But she got impatient there as well—and so we had the incident the other day in St James’s Square. The Black Widow strikes! Not good. I thought I could take care of it at the hospital with Tex—I’d planned to—but once again, the Black Widow struck her deadly blow. Oh. Well, well, well, speak of the devil herself.”

  Ginger Vitis made a grand entrance from the far end of the room. She was a little flushed, though this did nothing to diminish her Babe-ness. She had changed since the premiere, and wore a black velvet, sheath-like gown, with high neck, puffed shoulders, and long sleeves. She was well attired, and still horrible. She slunk toward them carrying an empty glass. Despite her tipsiness, there was an almost discerning, smoldering fire deep in the black eyes.

  “Hallo, Inspector. I didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon.” She turned to Stilton. “Well, dahling, are you crowing over your coup for the inspector? Are you proud you had to have Tex steal my Stars, including the one you gave me?” Without waiting for a reply, she headed for the bar. “I’m ready for another Cosmo.” Evidently, Ginger Vitis was quite the tippler.

 
; Boss Stilton said, “There should be one left in the shaker. Then you can make us some more.”

  She poured herself the last of the mixture, saying over her shoulder, “He gave it me years ago, you know. I’d never worn it out so publicly until tonight. And to have both Stars was more divine than anything I’ve ever known.” She turned. “Please, Inspector, I appeal to you—is that fair?” She took a swig from her drink and moved toward him using all her best Babe moves, gliding like a black velvet fox over the snowy carpet. She came up behind Riggs and rubbed his neck playfully. “All I’d ever wanted was those two Blood Stars for my very own. But just when I have them in my grasp—he takes them both away. The only things in world that make me so happy, and he steals them from me! Well, I warn you both, I’m not done.” She drained her glass, slithered back to the bar, and began mixing again. Riggs watched her reflection in the mirrored bar wall.

  Boss Stilton put the handkerchief with the Blood Stars on top of the desk. “I’ll be glad to get rid of these. They’ve been nothing but trouble, and caused nothing but trouble.” He chuckled. “But you did look stunning in them tonight, Babe.”

  “A lot of good that’s done me,” shot back Ginger Vitis. She shook the shaker and poured out the drinks without offering Riggs another. He was rather insulted. They continued to argue and drink their Cosmos.

  The silver desk phone buzzed and Boss Stilton answered it, saying resignedly, “I see. Come on up.” He turned to Riggs.

  “My, my, but you’re popular, you have another guest, Inspector. One to replace the boy.” Riggs watched as, a few moments later, Nigel Pushpin brought Brendalynn Welles in from the central divider. She still looked ravishing, though slightly anxious and surprised, but she held her head high, even as Ginger Vitis threw out, “Ha! So your little playmate has come for you, Inspector.”

  Kelly Riggs’s heart lifted momentarily, and though he was proud of her bravery, he knew the danger she was now in.

  Nigel Pushpin brought Brendalynn over and sat her in the chair vacated by Toby Knockknees. He began tying her hands. Kelly Riggs was full of admiration. “Brendalynn, what on earth are you doing here?”

  “I was worried. Where’s Jen?” she asked anxiously in a low voice. Riggs answered, “I think she got out safely. At least she’s not been brought back here.”

  Brendalynn replied, “I didn’t see her when I came in. I came straight up to the club, but then this … gentleman spotted me.” She turned to Boss Stilton, but spoke to Kelly Riggs. “You haven’t introduced me to our host.”

  Riggs did so and offered her a sip of his drink, as he said nonchalantly, “Yes, we’re just having Cosmopolitans and chatting about the weather. Here, have a sip.”

  She declined graciously and whispered, “So, you’re all right?”

  He looked back at her warmly. His hair was tousled and there was a small cut on his forehead. His collar and tie were crooked, there was a spot of blood on his white shirtfront, and his jacket was ripped and dirty. But he said softly and firmly, “I’m fine. So are you. Whatever happens, play along and play for time. We’ll get out of here. Promise.”

  “Say!” called Ginger Vitis. “What’re you two gabbing about over there? No secrets now! I don’t like secrets. He’s always trying to keep secrets from me. Always trying to put one over on me. Why, you’d steal from your own mother if she wasn’t dead and buried!”

  Boss Stilton belched fire as he barked, “That’s enough! You leave Mum out of it, God rest her soul.”

  “Oh, what do you care? You don’t care about anything but you.”

  “I got you the Blood Stars, didn’t I?”

  “Oh, oh, oh, wait just a minute; I believe I was the one to get the Blood Star. It may have been your plan, but I pulled it off. I think they both belong to me. You gave me one and I stole the other, so they’re both mine.”

  Her voice was evidencing the faintest trace of an alcoholic lisp, and the alcohol spoke as she reached for the Blood Stars lying on the desk, for she was a little slow. Boss Stilton moved like a snake, grabbing her wrist hard. His other hand snapped up the Blood Stars and he pocketed them. He was in her face, and the two captives could practically feel the heated enmity between them. Boss Stilton spoke between clenched teeth. “I told you, the Stars are too hot, and the auction’s going off tonight as planned. There’ll be plenty for you afterward … if you behave, that is.”

  Below, the frantic search of the building continued, as Detectives Blaney and Girard followed by Sergeant Bellows had found Toby hiding in the kitchen and learned all they could from him. Since they weren’t able to send the lift back up, they would have to find another way to the penthouse. Thankfully, Toby had escaped Rocky Sengue, who had been taken into custody and hauled off to a police van, after a fight that had nearly demolished the kitchen.

  In the meantime, Bellows had insisted Toby and the children be taken back outside to the Dasher across the street, where a command post had been set up. There, radio reporters gave live GDR coverage, as onlookers stood along the ends of the closed-off street. More searchlights arrived and were scanning the building like great white lances. In the distance there was a pealing of police bells, and two fire trucks and an ambulance stood at the ready. The Zeppo had abandoned the quest to gain the roof and landed safely nearby.

  Besides the kitchen and storage areas, the police had also reached the dinner club and the lifts to the first five floors. Patrons were being shown the door, and employees rounded up. A steady stream began to emerge from the Tip Top Club.

  Ginger Vitis was rubbing her sore wrist. “Just see how he treats me, how he steals from me,” she said sneeringly.

  “This wouldn’t be a problem except for you in the first place…” retorted Boss Stilton.

  “Problems, problems! Well, you’ve got a problem here. An Inspector from Scotland Yard…”

  “You’re telling me…”

  “You’re always talking about taking care of problems. He’s another problem. And what about her? Are you going to steal her jewels before you take care of her?”

  Boss Stilton strode over to Riggs and Brendalynn Welles. “Yes, I take care of problems, and this is how I’m taking care of this one. Here’s how it works, Inspector. Tex starts a nasty little fire that breaks out in the club—a simple smoke bomb, really—and then an explosion takes out this penthouse. And you, too, Inspector. I’m sorry, but you know too much, and your lovely friend too … though I am just tempted…”

  “Just you watch it, Buster Brownlee Brown!” Ginger Vitis practically hissed. “Boss Bruno Brownlee Stilton, who thinks he’s the King of England…”

  “Bah!” spat Boss Stilton, waving a hand. “You see what I put up with? Anyway, twenty minutes after the smoke bomb goes off downstairs, the big bomb goes off up here. By then, of course, we’ll be gone, and everything up here will be destroyed.”

  “What about the poor souls who get up here at the wrong time?” asked Riggs. “What about the police officers with families you’ll kill?”

  “Um, yes, Inspector.” His hooded eyes glinted. “What about them.”

  It was a statement. He moved behind Riggs and said sternly, “Now I’ll need that hand back, Inspector; you’ve had your last cocktail.” He roughly recuffed the hand, although Riggs held it just so, to allow the tiniest bit of play.

  Then Boss Stilton crossed to the desk, took out a box-like, stainless steel gadget from behind it, and put it on top of the desk. He twisted a dial on top, consulted his watch, and flicked a switch. A faint muffled ticking began. Boss Stilton’s lip curled, and he puffed up like a toad.

  chapter thirty-three

  Blood on the Stars

  HE CLICKED A SWITCH ON THE DESK. Some of the lights went out and the room dimmed. There were now pools of light here and there, one on Boss Stilton’s desk. They cast deep shadows on his evil face.

  Yet they seemed to favor and sculpt Ginger Vitis, who complained, “Say! Why do you always have to have it so dark in here? A girl can barely se
e to mix her cocktail.”

  He snapped back, “Why don’t you lay off. We’re almost out of here, anyway.”

  Carrying the lightly ticking stainless steel bomb, he strode over to Riggs and Brendalynn Welles.

  He set the bomb under Riggs’s chair.

  “Here. This should keep you company.”

  Tick … Tick … Tick …

  Riggs could hear the slow, deadly ticking beneath him.

  The buzzer on the phone went off, and Boss Stilton crossed to the desk and answered. “Good. Good work, Tex. We’ll see you down there in ten minutes.” He hung up and called out, “Are those drinks ready? It’s time for one last toast.” He quickly began to open the drawers of the desk, taking out the contents, and stuffing things into a weathered Gladstone bag.

  Though his hands were cuffed behind him, Kelly Riggs had a trick of his own, literally, up his sleeve. After an unfortunate experience many years before, he had taken to always carrying a woman’s hairpin or two clipped to each of his jacket cuffs, hidden just beneath the buttons. With effort, he was able to remove the left one and began to work at the handcuffs.

  Tick … Tick … Tick …

  Riggs reflected inwardly that there was more than one bomb in the room set to go off. Time was now ticking away, so he sought to speed up the only bomb he could manipulate. He had to gain more time as he picked at the handcuffs.

  “I should think you’ve got more problems than just me, Stilton. Simply getting out of this building, let alone out of London, will be a problem. You and your lady friend here have a very high profile, and with that red hair and figure of hers, she’ll be a standout in any crowd. I only see problems galore.”

  A dangerous gleam appeared in the dark eyes of Ginger Vitis, and she turned to Boss Stilton. “You said just now this ‘wouldn’t be a problem except for you in the first place.’ Just what did you mean by that?”