Breath ragged, heart pounding, Larry saw that there were five or six men by the gate to the showers, being handed towels and waiting for that same number to come out so that they could go through; the normal routine.
But what was not normal, Larry quickly picked out, were the lights out at the far end and no guard looking into that section.
‘Man in distress at the far end!’ Larry shouted, pushing through the men waiting.
The guard by the gate, Fisk, in thick with Bateson, blocked his way defiantly. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I said man in distress at the far end!’ Larry raised his voice to screaming pitch. His only hope was rousing the attention of the three guards by the early sections, and hoping to God they weren’t all in on it with Bateson. ‘Man in distress!’
One of the guards looked uncertainly towards the rear cubicles then back at the gate, confused.
Larry saw the alarm button a yard to one side, and, remembering Rodriguez in the boiler-room, leapt across and hit it.
The jangling bell finally galvanized the guard into action, Larry keeping up his mantra, ‘Man in distress… man in distress,’ as the guard darted towards the rear cubicles. Though Larry feared that it was already too late.
15
‘Bye-bye’ had got his nickname because fellow Malastra capos and soldiers had noticed that it was usually the last thing he said before he wasted someone with his favoured Cougar 9mm; and, as Malastra’s main trigger-man, it was something he said often.
Though with the name apparently came some unintentional humour: often when he called out ‘Bye-bye’ in parting, others would flinch or lift one arm up, worried that any second his Cougar would be pointing and firing.
But it was difficult for George Jouliern to laugh about it now, because pretty soon those words would probably be the last thing he’d hear.
They were in an old warehouse, musty and humid, and Jouliern looked morosely at the blue plastic sheet, usually used as a damp membrane in construction, spread beneath him. Eight yards away a furnace, probably lit over two hours ago, glowed red from its aperture.
Jouliern sat in the middle of the blue sheet, his hands tied behind his back, but his ankles free. Bye-bye held his Cougar on him steadily from three paces away and, at points when Bye-bye had leant over or turned, Jouliern had noticed the sheathed machete and knife tucked in the back of his belt.
Jouliern knew the routine well enough. He’d be shot with the Cougar, his body chopped into pieces, the whole mess then wrapped in the blue plastic and thrown into the furnace. Within forty minutes there’d be absolutely no trace of him. Jouliern’s stomach sank at the thought of it.
He looked up, trying to inject a hopeful tone into his voice. ‘You kill me – you’re not going to find out who else was in on it with me. You think I did the whole thing alone?’
Bye-bye smiled tightly. ‘You know there’s no deals on something like this. You know the score, George.’
‘I know.’ Jouliern’s tone sank back as he arched an eyebrow. ‘So, you’re saying you don’t want to know who else was involved?’
‘I didn’t say that.’ Bye-bye contemplated his shoes for a second. ‘Look, if you tell me who else was in with you – the best I can offer is to make it quick and clean. Painless.’
Now it was Jouliern’s turn to look down, contemplating. But when he looked up again, his stare was icy.
‘Fuck you… that’s what I say.’ Then, twisting himself as he rose up without warning, he lunged head-first towards Bye-bye, his voice rising to a scream. ‘FUCK YOU!....FUCK Y–’
Bye-bye took him down with two shots before he’d moved a yard. Didn’t even get time to deliver his favourite words.
‘That was good,’ Malastra commented when Bye-bye returned and explained what had happened. ‘So he got his quick and painless death without having to give us any names?’
Bye-bye shuffled uncomfortably. ‘Happened so quick, boss.’
Malastra held his stare on him a moment longer. All RAM and no hard-drive; but the advantage was that by the time of Bye-bye’s next cheeseburger, he’d have forgotten all about killing George Jouliern. He’d sleep easy that night.
‘Okay.’ Malastra waved him away, his gaze shifting back to his computer screen.
His eyes narrowed as the first image of the Bay Tree Casino floor came up on the screen. He’d have to find out who else Jouliern had been involved with by tracing who he’d met over the past year, and what might have passed between them – particularly any envelopes.
‘And one of the key questions raised is always why they wanted to die? You think all of that’s going to happen without your son ever finding out?’
‘It’ll only be the first year or so, I can keep it hidden from him for that time. Besides, as you say, and I also know from bitter past experience – Larry is always so close-mouthed. No way is he going to admit that his wanting to die is down to his son not making contact. He’s going to say just what he told you: that he’s simply sick of facing more time in prison, and this is his going to God. His “Ascension Day”.’
As much as Joshua Durrant tried to shake the conversation he had overheard loose from his head over the following days, it kept re-playing.
He tapped fast and furiously at the keyboard: Frank G1427, FrankG4217, Frank G7412…
Frank was a good enough guy, and that wasn’t Joshua simply sharing his mother’s standpoint because he’d been good to them; Joshua liked him because Frank gave him quality time when needed and accepted him as if he was his own. But there were times when Frank’s reasoning ran thin, and more often than not it involved Josh’s father.
Joshua had accepted at the time his mom’s and Frank’s reasoning over the e-mails, and the last thing he’d want to do is upset them or cause any problems. But now with what he’d overheard, his father wanting to die unless he sent more e-mails – that smashed through every possible rulebook, was something he couldn’t bear for a second being responsible for. And what Frank and his mom didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.
FG2417, FLG2417, FLG7412, FG7412, FG1427, FG4217…
‘Are you okay there, Josh?’ his mom’s voice trailed from the kitchen.
His hands paused on the keyboard, heart thumping in his chest. ‘Yes, fine, Mom.’
‘It’s nice to see you getting down to your homework so early… but you do seem to be putting in a lot on this project.’
‘I… I’ve got to finish by the end of the week – I’m already late with it.’
Frank had password-blocked all internet access. Josh had fed in over a hundred possible keywords in the half hour before Frank got in the night before – mostly around Frank’s name, initials and birth-date – without success, and now he was on Frank’s lucky numbers. Hopefully his mom wasn’t getting suspicious. He looked at intervals over his shoulder as he resumed tapping. The computer was in a small recess in the hallway – but even if she came out from the kitchen, she probably wouldn’t know the difference between his searching for entry keywords and his school project work. Just in case, to one side he had a project page with the Civil War and Paul Revere to click on and cover.
He tried another batch of combinations and glanced anxiously at his watch. Another six or seven minutes, then he’d have to quit until the next night. But as he continued, he started to sense the futility: he might have thousands more possibilities to work through, and even if he hit gold, while he could delete the e-mails sent, how on earth was he going to cover-up the replies? Unless they arrived in the half an hour before Frank got home, he was sunk.
His hands slowed on the keyboard. He’d give it his best shot that night, but if there was still no breakthrough, tomorrow he’d approach Danny Thorne, one of his closest school-friends. And, the resolve made, his hands picked up speed again on the keyboard, becoming suddenly a furious race against time to find the password, because he knew now this would probably be his last opportunity… FrankLG4217, FrankLG2417, FrankLG7412...
O
r maybe it was his and his mom’s initials or the first three letters of their names – combined with Frank’s lucky numbers.
Joshua continued working through the combinations, and was over halfway through when the screen-door suddenly slamming made him jump. He’d got so engrossed that he hadn’t even heard Frank’s car pull up. His heart beating wildly, his hand trembling and suddenly clammy on the mouse, he quickly clicked off the password page and clicked on Paul Revere.
The document leapt to the forefront just a second before the door swung open and Frank stepped into the hallway.
‘Like Fort Knox. Four heavy dead bolts on the door as I was let in. And, as you suspected, motion alarms in the main lounge and the hallway.’
At his end of the line, Nel-M nodded thoughtfully as Barry Lassitter ran through his visit to Truelle’s apartment. The main factors that had stopped Nel-M simply breaking in and planting the bug himself.
‘He hovered for a bit, watching me, but he had a coffee in his hand – so I nodded to it, “smells nice”. He offered me one, and I finished up while he was back in the kitchen.’
‘And he took the bait that his phone had been bugged?’
‘Yeah. Held it up for him to see. Exact duplicate of what I’d just wired in while he was making my coffee.’
‘Good going. Let me know when the other one’s done.’
Lassitter’s return call came at 11.43 the next morning. ‘Just got the nod from Mo. Everything went fine at his office, too. No hitches.’
‘Thanks.’ Nel-M hardly paused for breath before calling Vic Farrelia. ‘That’s a go now for lines two and three as well.’ Then he called Adelay Roche. ‘My man just phoned. Truelle’s just been done too – home and office. So we’re live on all fronts.’
‘That’s good to hear,’ Roche commented. ‘Now we might be able to better decide just who needs to be dead.’
When Joshua broached the subject with Danny Thorne of using his home computer, Danny was wary. ‘It’s not to go porn-surfing, is it?’
‘No, no. Nothing like that.’ Out of his three closest friends at Elbrooke High, he’d chosen Danny because he was the only one to have his own, non-parentally controlled internet access. He’d worked before at Danny’s house on school projects, so no eyebrows would be raised by him going over there for an hour or two after school. But from the concern on Danny’s face, he was suddenly reminded that Danny was probably also his most cautious, conservative friend. ‘It’s to send some e-mails to my father.’
‘Oh.’ From Danny’s heavy exhalation, it was unclear whether that was actually worse than porn-surfing. ‘Why can’t you send the e-mails from home? You were sending some before – I remember you telling me?’
‘My mom would still let me like a shot. But Frank’s stepped in – put his foot down.’ He could see the clouds of doubt forming rapidly in Danny’s eyes. ‘Please, Danny… you’ve got to help me out here. If there was any other way, you know I wouldn’t be asking.’
‘Okay… okay. Let me think on it a bit, I’ll let you know tomorrow.’
By the next day, Joshua had spent another frantic half hour keyword searching without success before Frank got home, so was even more desperate. But Danny’s doubts and concerns seemed to have increased.
‘I’m worried about my parents finding out, and from there you know it’s only a heartbeat before yours find out, too.’
‘How will they find out?’
‘Get real. You know they speak sometimes on the phone, and they’ll get talking even more if you’re round my place once or twice a week. Reminding you what time dinner’s ready… or Josh has forgot this or that. And I know my dad checks my e-mails now and then. He’d kill me if he found out I was trading e-mails in and out of Libreville when I shouldn’t.’
They were in the corridor just after a lesson, and as their voices raised, they’d started to get the attention of some of the other students filing out.
‘Come on, Danny. I’m real stuck here… can’t you at least…’
But Danny was already sidling away as Joshua reached one hand out imploringly, and then they were both distracted by one of the onlookers, Ellis Calpar, who’d stopped to pay more attention to their conversation.
‘That’s the problem wit’ those oreole’s,’ Ellis called out, moving a step closer. ‘When it comes t’ the crunch – the white, tight-assed, be ever-so-careful anal side always wins t’rough.’
Danny was mixed race, and as his friend headed away along the corridor, Joshua fired him a tight grimace that made it clear he wasn’t keen on the barb either. But then you expected no less from Ellis Calpar.
‘Libreville? That’s where your ol’ man is, isn’t it? Not much time lef’ now, from what I see on the news. So what’s the beef with you and Danny? I thought yo’ two were always like that.’ Ellis interlocked two fingers.
At first, Joshua wasn’t going to say anything. But Ellis’s tone was weighted with understanding more than teasing, and he recalled one time when one of Ellis’s crew had started to give him a tough time and Ellis had stepped in. ‘Go easy on him, man. His ol’ man’s at Libreville. For murder!’ The crew member had jolted back a pace as if hit with an electric shock. To Ellis and his buddies, having a father in prison for murder was a mark of respect rather than one of ridicule.
As Joshua explained, Ellis’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. He put a welcoming arm over Joshua’s shoulder.
‘Look no further – you have just foun’ your Libreville e-mail sender. Not me personally – I don’t have a computer. But one o’ my crew, Friggy, does. That’s our main message centre.’
Joshua felt immediately uncomfortable. He’d never got involved with Ellis before, let alone with something as personal as this.
‘It’s okay, Ellis… you don’t have to trouble yourself none. I’m sure I can find another way round this.’
‘No sweat t’all, man… would be a real pleasure passin’ e-mails in and out of Libreville to your ol’ man.’ Ellis smiled slyly. ‘And the fact that your mom and new dad are against it and yo’ not meant t’do it, makes it all the mo’ fun.’ Ellis gave Joshua’s shoulder one last pat as he broke away and went ahead of him along the corridor. ‘I’ll talk to Friggy and let you know the timin’. Later, man.’
But as Joshua watched Ellis get swallowed up among the other students filling the corridor, he couldn’t resist a sense of foreboding. He might have solved his e-mail problem, but how was he going to explain away to his mom and Frank spending time after school with Ellis Calpar and his crew? For sure they’d fear he was getting primed for future auto-theft or crack dealing.
16
Before contacting Rodriguez, Jac wanted to check again with Alaysha that she was still okay with taking part in the Durrant e-mail ruse, in case it had just been the heat of the moment or the wine talking the night before. It wasn’t the sort of call he could make from the office – so he phoned just before he left for work.
She was still on for it – he’d never truly doubted – and for the first time he got some insight into her rationale. Though she brought a tingle to his cheek when she talked about the night before, and he could still feel a warm pang inside at the thought of her as he signed off and called Rodriguez.
‘We’re on for those e-mails,’ Jac said as Rodriguez came on the line.
‘The lap-dancer you mentioned the other day?’
‘The same.’
‘What did you have to do to her to get her to agree?’ Rodriguez jibed.
‘Well, you know – it’s a dirty job, but someone’s got to do it.’ A handful of conversations with Rodriguez, and already Jac was sounding like one of his cell-block buddies.
Rodriguez chuckled, but it died quickly. He shook off a faint shiver as he thought about his close escape that morning. The shouting and alarm ringing had come as Tally was only a step away, already raising the razor. He’d have no doubt had time to slit his throat, but getting away cleanly was starting to look like a problem. Tally brandish
ed the razor in warning – ‘Your guardian angel again, by the looks of it. But he ain’t gonna be around much longer’ – then quickly palmed the razor and slipped away as the guard approached. Rodriguez decided against saying anything to McElroy. There probably wasn’t much McElroy could do, and he had enough on his plate trying to save Larry without worrying about two of them.
‘The only thing is – I gotta get back on communication-room duty to receive it,’ Rodriguez said. ‘Also to send out those last few sample e-mails from JD. Haveling mighta half-believed our account, but most of our privileges are still cut.’
‘You didn’t mention this before.’
‘No need. Before it didn’t look likely we were gonna be able to get any e-mails to Larry, now it does.’
Jac sighed. ‘Okay. I’ll phone Haveling, see what I can do.’
‘Do you know someone who might be good for that?’
‘I do, as it happens. And just down the road from me right here in Morgan City.’ Bob Stratton scrolled down his Excel address list. ‘Yeah, here it is. Dan Souchelle.’
The thought had suddenly struck Jac while shifting some files from his desk first thing that morning, recalling that in one of them, a shoplifting case, the police had requested image enhancement on the key security camera pictures. Jac wrote down the number, thanked Stratton, and dialled it straight after he’d hung up.
Souchelle confirmed that he could do the job and promised a forty-eight hour turnaround.
‘Any chance of quicker?’
‘Sorry. We’re backed up like crazy right now, having trouble even keeping to that at times. But I’ll make sure this one doesn’t run over.’
Jac said he’d get the video tape over to him straightaway. Then seconds after he’d put the phone down from Fedex to arrange the messenger, it rang again; less than half an hour at his desk and already his fifth call: Lieutenant Pyrford.
Ascension Day Page 18
