The Devil's Syndicate
Page 10
“Wait.” Wagner said. “Sorry I was closing my office door. $2 million is a considerable amount of money, it may take me some time to get that much.”
“Then sell your house, rob a bank - I don't care what you have to do but get it. 'Cos if we don't have it by next week your daughter will be in a crocs stomach come the week after. We'll get back to you and let you know where to do the exchange. Tata for now and don't even think of calling the cops or the girl dies.”
Byron hung up the phone and smiled. Mr. Wagner sounded like a sensible man. He hoped he would use those sensibilities to realize the Syndicate wasn't bluffing. Dottie was beside him, crying into her chest, and he led her back to the van. They pulled out of the empty laundromat lot and headed back to the Devil's Syndicate base.
Wagner was distraught at the phone call and held his nose while resisting the urge to cry. Twice he picked up the phone to call the police but restrained himself, looking at a picture of Dottie he had on the corner of his desk. He decided he had to let Hawk know right away. He picked up the phone, and Hawk's voice came on the other line and for some reason the sound of his voice made Wagner calm down, if only slightly.
“Hawk, it's Harvey Wagner. I think my daughter's been kidnapped.”
7
“Kidnapped?!” Hawk was on his way to the Saint Mary's Community Centre to ask if anyone had seen Dottie there and pulled off to the side of the road near a row of residential houses. “What do you mean she's been kidnapped?”
Wagner sounded panicked and out of breath. He told Hawk about the phone call he'd received and what the kidnappers had said.
“Jesus.” Hawk said. “I can’t believe it. Maybe we should consider getting the police involved with this.”
“No, we can't do that.” Wagner spoke rapidly. “They explicitly said that if we called the police then they would…”
“Okay, it's alright.” Hawk said. “It's just this changes things a little bit.”
“I am prepared to offer you double what I already promised to retrieve my daughter.”
“No it's not that. It's the fact that now I'm dealing with cold-blooded kidnappers when before it was just a runaway case. It raises the stakes a little bit is all.”
“I'm aware of that. Are you saying you wish to terminate our agreement?"
“No, I'm not saying that. Once I commit to something I stick with it. I don't care if it turns out the damned Russians kidnapped your daughter. I'm committed to your case for the long haul, understand?"
Wagner sighed a breath of relief. “Yes I appreciate that. I could tell you were a good sort from the moment I read about you in the papers.”
“Now is there anything else you can remember about the call that you haven't told me?”
“Well,” Wagner was thinking. “I thought it was odd that the man kept saying we rather than I. That leads be to believe that we're dealing with a group rather than just an individual.”
“Okay and you said he had a Florida accent?”
“Yes, he sounded like my business associate who is from Jacksonville. The way he spoke fast and put extra emphasis on certain words.”
“Alright. And did they leave a call back number?”
“Oh heavens I totally forgot to look.” There was a pause as he checked then, “Yes it's 1-315-373-8877.”
Hawk made a note to call the number as well as ask his cop friend Greg to track it, although he doubted the callers would have been dumb enough to use a traceable phone.
“Okay I'll see if I can track the number first. Hold tight, I'll call you back soon okay?”
“Yes please call me back as soon as you can.” Wagner said. “Oh and there was one other thing they mentioned that may be helpful.”
“What's that?”
“The man mentioned they would feed Dottie to um, crocodiles... if they didn't get their money. I tried to think of every area near there that would have them and came up with--”
“The Everglades?” Hawk finished his sentence.
“Yes that was precisely my thought as well. They also mentioned that there was a lot of them whenever they were.”
“I'll have to look into that. You take care for now and I'll give you a call later on. Let me know if you think of anything else.” He let Wagner go and sat in the car for a moment, running things through his head.
Dottie was kidnapped. Jesus, he couldn't believe it. The feeling that he was out of his league crept into his brain and he shut it out for a second, picked up the phone and dialed Greg's number, told him what had happened.
“Holy shit.” He said. “You gonna stay on the case?”
“Yeah but I really don't know what to expect. I feel like maybe I've overshot myself with this one, you know?” Hawk said. “Like maybe this is a little more than I can chew.”
“You can't think that way man or it'll start to go to your head. Plus when did you ever give up anything? This could be a good opportunity for your bail bondsman business, think about all of the clients you'll get if you pull this thing off.”
“You got a point there.”
“You bet I do.” Greg said. “By the way I'm still waiting on that bourbon.”
“If I find this girl I'll buy you the whole damn bar. You able to run another phone number for me real quick? It's the number the kidnappers called from. I figure it'll probably be a dud but you never know.”
“Sure shoot over the number and I'll see what I can do.”
Hawk gave him the number and it came back as a payphone near a small town in Florida called Naranja. Greg told Hawk it belonged to a payphone by a closed down store near an interstate.
“Shit that's what I figured.” Hawk said. “I'll check it out anyway though, never know if the place had cameras that might have seen something.”
“Yeah if they do let me know and I'll get in touch with the local police force in that area. You take it easy out there and let me know if you need anything else.”
“Will do. Make sure to keep this on the DL too right.”
“You got it. Keep me in the loop when you can.”
They disconnected and Hawk drove a few more blocks, parked near the Saint Mary's Centre and got out. A few palm trees arched over the car and through them he could already see a crescent moon materializing above the clouds. The neighbourhood was quiet besides an old woman walking a small dog and he caught a whiff of someone cooking on a barbeque nearby.
He checked his watch. The next substance abuse meeting was due to start in 5 minutes so he went inside and asked reception who was in charge. The lady behind the counter told him to wait a second as she disappeared into a back office. A minute later she came out with a thin woman with curly brown hair and glasses eyes wearing a nametag that said Deborah.
“You're in charge here?” Hawk asked.
“Yes I'm Deborah, I'm the intake specialist for our program here. What can I do for you?”
Hawk explained that he was looking for Dottie Wagner but left out the part about the kidnapping.
“I see, if you don't mind we can chat in my office. Right this way.”
She led him to a cramped office with stacks of intake forms piled on a desk and psychology books filling out a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. Hawk took a seat across from her.
“I'd really like to help you Mr. Hawk but you have to understand that by law I cannot release certain information to the public about our clients.”
“What if I told you it was a matter of life and death?”
Deborah looked concerned. “What do you mean by that?”
“Dottie may be in serious trouble. She may be with a man or group of individuals that are threatening to cause her harm. I need to track her down immediately.”
“Why haven't the police been called?”
“This is a delicate situation where the police will only be contacted as a last resort.” Hawk said trying to gauge her reaction. “Look, all I need to know are a few general questions about her. I won't ask anything about Dottie's personal life if she
was here.”
Deborah sighed, took off her bifocals, and rubbed the edge of them with her shirt. He could see she had soft hazel eyes that reminded him of Helen's. Eyes you could get lost in if you weren't careful.
“I may be able to answer a few general questions, but if you start to get too personal I'll have to pull the plug.”
“Okay I appreciate that. So was Dottie Wagner a client of yours here?”
“Yes she came here for a few sessions but stopped coming over a month ago now.”
“And you don't know where she might be?”
“No she just stopped coming, she never called back to reserve a spot at any of the future sessions.”
“Did she ever come here with a man named Byron? He might have been on a motorcycle.”
“No I don't recognize anyone by that name. But she was dating a guy who dropped her off sometimes on a motorcycle.”
“Okay, is there anyone here who might know who he is?”
She thought a moment. “You could try talking to a Mr. Choudry. He's one of the regulars here. I saw him talk to that man a couple of times when he dropped Dottie off. Of course, you wouldn't be able to talk to him during our sessions but I'm sure if you asked him afterwards he may be able to help you.”
Hawk made a note of the name. “Mr. Choudry, when is he here next?”
Deborah said, “Just a second,” and looked through a spreadsheet on her computer. After about a minute of searching she looked back at Hawk. “It looks like he usually comes in on Tuesdays at 8 pm.”
“I don't have that long.” Hawk said. “I need to find this Byron guy asap, I think Dottie is in serious trouble and the longer I wait the greater the risk to her safety. Would you have a home address or a phone number for Mr. Choudry?”
Deborah looked at Hawk for a second, sighed, then rubbed her chin. “You know I could lose my job over this...”
“You have my word that anything you tell me will never leave this room.”
She took a deep sigh then wrote something down on a piece of legal paper and slid it across the desk to Hawk. He picked up the paper and read it back to her.
“23 Bremner Avenue, Apartment #35. And a phone number?”
“As far as I'm aware he doesn't have a phone.”
“Okay thanks.” Hawk got up to leave and fished in his pocket for something then pulled out a twenty dollar bill and went to hand it to her. “Here take this, you've been more than helpful.”
Deborah threw up her hands and smiled. “Please, I can't accept that. If anything I've told you helps find Dottie then that's good enough for me.”
“Right.” He said putting the money away. “Well thanks again.”
Hawk then left the building and plugged the address into his GPS. It was about 10 minutes from his current location. He got there in 7, found the address above a seedy convenience store in a run down part of town and was about to enter when he had an idea and went inside the convenience store. He came out a few minutes later cradling a bottle of the most expensive scotch whiskey he could find and tried the front door of the building. Locked. Undeterred he looked around for an intercom but saw nothing then noticed a fire escape running along the side of the building with a ladder hanging close to the ground.
Holding the bottle close to his sides he mounted the ladder and climbed up to the second floor balcony where he mounted the rest of the metal stairs until he reached the third floor. When he got there he found an open window and stepped inside to an empty hallway and a dated carpet that sank in certain spots as he walked over it. The building was probably close to 100 years old as he looked at the peeling wooden doors of some of the apartments that were missing one or both unit numbers.
He found apartment #35 near the far end of the hallway and knocked. There was no answer but he could hear the muffled sounds of a TV inside so he knocked again, louder this time. He heard someone get off a couch and the worn springs release someone's body weight, then listened as some feet crunched over a carpet to the front door. It opened a second later and Hawk saw a short, chubby, dark-skinned man wearing a stained Miami dolphins t-shirt glaring up at him with a bewildered expression.
“Uh...hello?”
“Are you Mr. Choudry?”
“I might be. What do you want?”
Hawk noticed the man had a slight accent, possibly East Indian. “My name is Simon Hawk. I understand you attend meetings at Saint Mary's once a week?”
“Why do you want to know this?” Choudry sounded annoyed.
Hawk smiled handing him the bottle of whisky he'd bought, then said, “I can't tell you who gave me your name but I'm looking for information on someone who used to attend the meetings at Saint Mary's. I thought you might be able to help me.”
Choudry took the bottle from Hawk, read the label and his eyes widened. “Hey, this is good stuff here. You know, I've been trying to cut down but jeez, don't think I've ever had anything like this before.”
“I figure everyone needs a little break once in awhile.” Hawk said. “Hope it doesn't screw up your progress.”
“Not a chance! I'll have this done by tonight and go a week cold sober. That's how it always is these days.” Choudry took off the cap and took a sip, then eyed Hawk suspiciously. “You a cop?”
“Nope I'm not a cop. I've been hired to find someone who's missing and believe she was last seen at one of the meetings at Saint Mary's. Can I come in? I won't be too long, maybe 10 minutes.”
“Oh you're like one of those detectives...I just love that CSI show, wouldn't mind getting into that stuff myself someday.” Choudry said opening the door. “Come on in.”
The apartment was musty and had beer cans strewn on the ground with piles of dirty laundry and old newspapers stacked in a corner. It was a simple bachelor with a single metal bed by the window, an old kitchen with stacks of dishes by the sink, and faded kitchen tiles that hadn't been cleaned in a long time. Choudry motioned for Hawk to take a seat in a chair by the bed and Hawk sat down, turned the chair forward and put his arms over the backrest while Choudry lay back on the bed against a dirty stack of pillows. He switched on a fan and Hawk was grateful as the night was humid and Choudry's room was stifling.
“So, you're looking for information?” Choudry asked.
“I need to know whatever you can tell me about Dottie Wagner. I understand she went to a few sessions at the community centre and you might have talked to her boyfriend as well.”
“Oh yes, I remember Dottie well. The young runaway who worked at a strip club. Yes, she was there for an addiction to alcohol and cocaine if I remember correctly.”
A cockroach scurried underneath a newspaper on the floor and Choudry flung a shoe at it. “Damn roaches, you kill one and 3 more show up! Gotta get that useless caretaker to clean this place up.”
Hawk smiled then said, “What else did Dottie say in these meetings?”
“Dottie seemed like an innocent girl,” Choudry coughed then continued. “She said she had run away from a controlling father to find a new life, then got addicted to the sweet stuff when she moved to Miami.”
“Cocaine you said?”
“Yeah, from what I remember. She said she worked at a strip cub for a bit as a dancer. Think that's where she picked up the addiction.”
“The Shark Club,” Hawk said. “I also heard you had a few conversations with her boyfriend.”
“Yeah I talked to him a few times, pretty scary dude you know. Big, intense...had the whole biker thing going on. Think his name was Byron.”
“When did you talk to him?”
“Oh sometimes he would drop Dottie off at the steps on the back of his Harley, then he would take off. One time I bummed a smoke from him outside and we got to talking you know. I told him about a buddy I had in prison and it turned out this guy was a good friend of his.”
“You were in prison?”
“Yeah but nothing heavy, just a bit of armed robbery in my youth. We all make mistakes man.”
“Of course.�
� Hawk continued. “What was your friends name?”
“Randall. Forget his last name though. But Byron said Randall and him were riding together in some sort of group. I told him I was looking for work and he said he might be able to do something for me, said he owned some property in the Everglades and that he needed some extra guys to help him clear some bush out.”
“Did he say where this place was?”
“No he didn't say where but I got the impression it was somewhere in the forest, like deep in the bush. He kept saying that he had to clear a bunch of trees and shit out.”
“Okay and what else did he say?”
“Nothing. That was the most we ever said to each other. We were going to talk more that time but he said he had to go when a police cruiser drove by,” Choudry said. “Said he doesn't like cops.”
Hawk was taking notes, nodding occasionally at what Choudry said. “Okay so you have no idea where this guy could be living then?”
“Well, he told me he had to ride back to Aldwell that night and then he was heading back to his property. So I think maybe he's living somewhere near there.”
“Aldwell, never heard of it.”
“It's a small town of about 1000 near the Everglades in Caluhosoo County. Right in the thick of crocodile country. Drove through there myself one time when I was working in construction. Lord those were the days I tell ya!”
“Crocodile country...interesting.” Hawk felt like he was getting somewhere. “Did Byron or his pal give you a contact number?”
“No, these guys were pretty careful about that sort of thing. Plus, we never got to that point you know.”
Hawk finished writing something else in his book then looked up. “Anything else you can tell me about Dottie or this biker dude?”
Choudry took a swig of whiskey, put a finger to his mouth, then said, “No that's about everything I can think of. Only other thing I would say is that this Byron guy, he seemed pretty possessive of Dottie, at least that's the impression I got.”
“Really? How so?”