by Jeff Noonan
When she flew out of Heathrow, she’d be flying with tickets that gave her a one-day stop in Geneva before taking her on to Cairo. Her plan was to fly to Geneva, accomplish a few financial transfers, and then fly to Egypt. Once in Cairo, she would change to another name and another passport, and she would fly to either Paris or Rome. Then on to Hong Kong or the Philippines.
Her short-term plan involved several different names and passports. After a week or so, she would arrive on a small island off the coast of South America. That would be her home for a year or two while she had the operations that would change her appearance forever. Past that, she had no firm plans.
Raising her glass, she toasted herself. She had planned this day for more than ten years. She had put up with Papa’s ridiculous idealism and Rick’s groping hands for so long that she could hardly remember another life. But now it was behind her. She would live the life of a fabulously wealthy socialite for the rest of her life. It really had been worth it!
The airport speakers announced her flight, and she hurried to down the drink. Her excitement at finally being on her way took over. She picked up her precious little briefcase and walked swiftly toward the boarding gate.
With her passport and ticket in hand, she was almost to the gate when a voice at her elbow said, “Excuse me, madam. May I see your passport?” She turned swiftly and saw two men at her elbow. Two more were moving in swiftly from another angle. The man at her elbow smiled and said, “Hello, Maria.” At the same time, his hand rudely grasped her upper arm. She jerked away and turned, only to face another pair of policemen.
In an instant, Marita realized that she would never see Geneva. She fainted.
The men didn’t even try to catch her. They watched her crumble to the floor. Then, standing on either side of the prone woman, they looked closely at their copies of the sketch, comparing it to her relaxed face. “Yup. Damned good likeness, I’d say. Whadda you think, Joey?”
“Looks good to me. But hell, even without the picture, I’d run her in just for fainting when she saw the bobbies, wouldn’t you?”
“Makes sense to me.” Then, bending over and slapping her gently, “C’mon, lady. I’ve got some handcuffs waiting for you.”
Then to the other two detectives that were standing to the side, “Would you get her baggage off the plane? Make sure they don’t miss anything. We’ll get her over to the safe room in customs and wait for you there.” Then, on his walkie-talkie, “Okay, Everyone. We got her. She was getting on a Swiss Air flight as expected. Everyone can stand down.”
Still groggy, Marita was led away to a hidden room to the side of the customs area. Once there, she tried to protest that she was an innocent traveler. “My name is Marita. I don’t even know any Maria.” It didn’t work. By then they had gone through the briefcase and found the papers for the Swiss bank accounts. They had also found her assortment of passports, all with different names and issued by different countries, in a secret compartment in her purse.
They handcuffed her to a shackle on the table in the customs room and stationed a guard outside the door while they waited for the U.S. Marshal and the paddy wagon to arrive. It had been an easy, routine capture. Nothing out of the ordinary.
It was only about fifteen minutes before the Marshall arrived. The Scotland Yard guard and the marshal opened the door and, to their surprise, the woman they knew as Marie was sound asleep. Her head was resting peacefully on her folded arm on the table in front of her.
The marshal crossed the room in a single bound, grabbing Marie’s shoulders and pulling her up to a sitting position. But it was too late. The smell of cyanide hung in the air around her, and a slight froth could be seen at the corners of her mouth.
Marie Novak, aka Marita Novikov, was dead.
Lee arrived in Media and went straight to the realtor’s office. Luckily, she was there and ready for him. Lee was delighted to hear that the owners of the home he was buying had already moved out. The mortgage banker had approved the mortgage and, if he wanted, he could close on the purchase the following week.
“Wow! That was a lot faster than I expected. What happened?”
“I’m not sure. The bank said that there was absolutely no problem with your credit. In fact, the banker seemed surprised that you wanted to even take out a mortgage. He seemed to think that you could pay cash if you wanted to do it.”
The light dawned on Lee. Of course the banker would have found out about his inheritance. Lee was so used to living without it that he had only mentioned it out of a desire for full and correct disclosure on the credit application. He had not considered its effect on his credit. “Oh, heck, I know what he’s thinking. No problem. What do I have to do to close the deal?”
“Well, you need insurance. I can arrange for it, if you want me to?”
“No. I’ve got my car insurance with a Texas company that caters exclusively to military officers. I’ve had really good luck there, so I’ll use them. I can have a binder in a day or so.”
The two went on to discuss the details of the closing and turnover. Lee asked for another tour of the home, and the realtor agreed to go with him that afternoon.
After agreeing to meet her later, Lee left to do some exploring. A little worried that he might have moved too fast on the purchase, his first stop was in front of the home on Sykes Lane. He was happy to find that it still looked good.
Sitting there, he experienced a real surge of emotions. This was going to be his first real home in almost two decades. It was really going to be his! He was going to live here with Maggie! Like real grown-ups! God, where did that thought come from? He grinned at himself, cynically dissecting his thoughts and laughing at himself over the undeniable pride he felt. But try as he might, he couldn’t stop the sting behind his eyes.
Pulling himself together, he drove back to Media, parked, and went to Packy’s pub for lunch. He was no sooner seated than he saw big Bill Jordan come in the door.
“Bill!” He raised his voice enough to be heard. Bill saw him, grinned sheepishly, and came over to the booth where Lee was sitting. “Care to join me?”
“Sure, why not?” He slid his huge bulk into the booth.
“So Tony still has you on the job, eh?”
“Yeah, big time. I lost you in traffic on I-95 the night before last, and Tony was worried sick that something had happened to you. When you came out of the BOQ this morning, I called him. He’s a happy camper now.”
“You can tell him that I went down to D.C. to help the Feds interview those two we caught the other day. Nothing bad happened there. I think we’re getting close to finishing all of this nonsense.” He went on to tell Bill about the Skimmers, the fire, and the fact that someone was on the run over the Skimmers’ murders. He was careful not to give any details that would endanger the FBI’s ongoing investigation, and he deliberately didn’t tell Bill about the case’s loose ends. He didn’t want anyone knowing that they were still looking for other people. He asked Bill to relay the info to Tony.
The two chatted idly while lunch was served and eaten. Then Lee left to meet the realtor, telling Bill where he’d be so the big man didn’t have to search or follow. He was surprised to find that he actually was beginning to like the huge mobster.
Soon he was in the house. This time he did a detailed inspection to see what repairs were needed. He found a lot of paint that needed work and again noticed the need for new kitchen cabinets and appliances. He did some measuring with a tape measure the realtor had thoughtfully brought along. From what he could tell, all of the critical systems were working well, and, even though it was mostly obsolete, even the kitchen equipment could still be used.
The most pressing need that he could see was lawn care. The previous occupants obviously didn’t mow before they left, and it was looking bad now. There was a small shed in the back yard that was open and empty. He asked the realtor if he could use it to store a mower if he got one. She said she would call and get the owners’ permission.
Back at the realty office, she made the call and got permission for him to use the shed. He thanked her and got directions to the nearest place to buy a mower. Soon he was at Granite Run Mall, buying the first lawnmower he had ever owned. He had it assembled on site, got instructions on its use, and loaded it in his car with the handles hanging out the open trunk. Then he bought a gas can, filled it, and headed back to the house.
When he got to the house, he unloaded the mower and filled the gas tank. Then he tried to get it started, with no luck. He was still struggling with it when he noticed big Bill leaning on his car, laughing uproariously.
“Man, I’ve heard the expression, but I didn’t think I would ever actually get to see a monkey fucking a football! Now I have.” He was laughing so hard he could hardly talk.
“Okay wise-ass! Can you do it better?” Lee was laughing in spite of himself.
“Absolutely.” Still laughing, Bill came over and proceeded to teach basic mower operation to his new pupil. Soon Lee was cheerfully mowing away. Bill got in his car and departed, returning in a few minutes.
Bill got out of the car and waved to stop Lee, who by now had his shirt tied around his waist and was sweating profusely. Lee carefully stopped the mower and tentatively turned it off before walking over to where Bill was standing.
“There’s one thing I still have to teach you about mowing a lawn,” Bill said as he reached into the car. “Both the mower and the person behind it have to be lubricated regularly.” He handed Lee a bottle of beer with a flourish.
Lee laughed appreciatively. “You know, I sure have a lot to learn about this civilian life. Thank you!” They clicked bottles.
By the time Lee was back in his BOQ room, he was exhausted and filthy, but as happy as he could remember ever being. Before he showered, he picked up the phone and called Maggie. The two talked for hours. It was after midnight when he finally showered and went to bed. He was even happier than before.
At 6 a.m. sharp, his phone rang. He was just about to leave for a run, but he stopped to answer it.
“This is Lee.”
“Good morning, sunshine. Tried to get you last night, but your phone was busy all night.” It was Tom Wright.
“Yeah, Maggie and I were making sure Ma Bell stays profitable. Did you have news?”
“Uh-huh. Marie is dead. Died of cyanide poisoning in Scotland Yard’s custody at Heathrow airport.”
“Wow! I didn’t see that coming. What happened?”
“I’ll start at the beginning. She flew out of Philadelphia on a flight to Moscow. She was supposed to change planes in London and go on to Moscow. But she changed her mind when she got to London and bought a ticket to Cairo, Egypt, with a one-day stopover in Geneva, Switzerland, on her way to Cairo.
“That is totally weird.”
“Yup. Anyway, she had a long layover while she was waiting for the flight to Geneva. That gave our guys time to alert Scotland Yard. They put a massive team in Heathrow armed with our sketch, and they got lucky. From what I hear, they caught her just as she was boarding the flight. She never had a chance. When she saw them, she actually fainted! So they took her into custody and stashed her in a customs interrogation room while they waited for one of our people. But when he showed up, our Marie was dead as a doornail. Somehow she had kept cyanide tablets on her, and she used them.”
“Man, Tom. What the hell are we dealing with here? A thief that turns into a mass murderer and then takes cyanide when she’s caught. This is starting to sound more like a spy thriller than a robbery caper.”
“No shit!”
“I’m serious, Tom. We’ve got a mystery man who shoots people with a hunting rifle, even though he’s operating in a major city. We’ve got massive amounts of missing money. We’ve got a woman who kills people. When she runs, she gets a ticket to Russia, then Switzerland, then Egypt. And now, the same woman suddenly and mysteriously swallows a poison pill when she’s taken into custody. Man, this sounds like a James Bond novel. What in hell are we into?”
“There’s more, Lee. She had a bunch of different passports hidden on her. All under different names and from different countries. All with her picture on them.”
That caused Lee to go quiet. He didn’t know what to say. But Tom continued anyway.
“There’s also some good news, my friend. She had all of the information on the Skimmers’ Swiss bank accounts in her briefcase. Our guys over there have been able to use her data to expatriate well over a hundred million dollars. The money has already been transferred back to the U.S. Treasury.”
Lee was still speechless. He managed to croak out a “Wow,” and then he went silent. This was a lot to absorb.
Finally he recovered somewhat. “Tom, I was just making noise about the James Bond stuff. But really, what the devil are we into? She sounds a whole lot more sophisticated than we ever suspected. This isn’t just a shop planner caper. None of the original dozen Skimmers, except possibly Rick Burley, were anywhere near this level of sophistication. Plus, the guy with the rifle is still out there. We need to re-think this whole thing.”
“I know. I’ve been awake all night thinking about it and I’m as baffled as you are. Something is very fishy in the City of Philadelphia and I don’t know what it is.”
“Let’s go quiet for now. We don’t know anything except that we ain’t done yet. Maybe if we just go quiet and wait, the rifleman will slip up and show us something that we can get our teeth into. In the meantime, we can be very quietly going over everything we know, looking for anything that might point us to the right people.”
“Lee, you said ‘people.’ Do you think there are more people still out there, other than the rifleman?”
“I really don’t know. But everything we know points to a smooth, well-run operation that is well above the levels of the Skimmers. If I had to guess, I’d bet on another organization that was just using the Skimmers. What do you think?”
“I think you’re right. I came to the same conclusion in the middle of the night last night. What’s even worse, I’ve convinced myself that the fact Marie was originally flying to Moscow wasn’t a coincidence. I think she was supposed to end up there with the money, but she decided to take a detour. If that’s right, this may be far bigger than we ever imagined.”
“Holy shit, Tom!”
“Yeah. I agree.”
“What now?”
“I think you had it right. But I think we have to get a lot more cagey with what we do from here on out. No more telephones. I’m going to get a small, secure, short-wave radio to you. We have a unit that fits in a briefcase, so it can be carried anywhere. I’ll arrange to have it delivered to you this evening. I’ll have someone contact you with specifics. What time can you be available?”
“How about if I’m at the Melrose Diner for dinner tonight at about 7 p.m.?”
“Is good. My guy will look you up. I’ll be keeping one of the same radios with me all the time from now on. I suggest you keep with you as much as possible during the daytime and in your BOQ room at night. If I can’t get you on the radio during the daytime, I’ll call your office and just say ‘please call home.’ Then we’ll get together on the radio.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you on the radio.” With that, the two signed off.
Lee sat down at the little desk in his room, the telephone still in his hand. His mind was running a thousand miles an hour.
My God! Cyanide! What the hell have I got myself into?
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO - THE QUIET TIME
he next few days were uneventful. Lee spent Monday touring the waterfront and meeting with his division heads. The radio was turned over to him on schedule Monday evening.
Tuesday morning, he joined Tim at the shipyard commander’s ship status meeting and stayed behind afterward to brief Captain Jones on the investigation progress. The captain was ecstatic when he heard that the money was recovered, but Lee swore him to silence. “It’s not completely over, Captain, and we can’t afford any
leaks right now.” The captain agreed.
Lee used the rest of the week to get completely up to date on the ongoing work in the shipyard. Except for a test call, the radio didn’t get used.
Thursday afternoon, the realtor called and said the paperwork was all ready, and he could close when he was ready. They scheduled the closing for Friday afternoon. He immediately called Maggie from his office to tell her.
“The house is going to be ours tomorrow afternoon.” She was even more excited than Lee had been, if that was possible. They talked for a half-hour before she had to go on duty. When he put the phone down, he thought back on the conversation and had to laugh. They were like two proud children with a brand-new toy!
The closing was anticlimactic the next day. Lee was the only one present who considered this to be any kind of a big deal. The closing agent and the realtor did this routinely, and, although they were nice and congratulatory, they just weren’t into it as much as him. Somehow, in the recesses of his mind, Lee had expected that everyone would see this as a major event. It was just plain disappointing that they didn’t, even though he consciously understood their lack of passion.
Lee left the office with a stack of papers, a handful of keys, and a swelling feel of pride. He went straight to the house, where he set about prioritizing the work he planned for the weekend. Then he headed for the nearby mall to buy tools, cleaning gear, and other work items.
After dinner at Packy’s, he went back to the house and began cleaning. By 10 p.m., he place was looking much better, so he headed back to his BOQ room and bed.
Saturday morning found Lee going from building supply stores to furniture stores to bedding stores. He was careful to buy only non-controversial items; things that he knew there was no need for Maggie to see before the purchase. They had agreed on paint colors over the phone, so he was able to get paint and brushes. That would consume the next few free days. He also bought a queen-size innerspring and mattress, along with some very basic bedding. Now he could crash at the house, and, if Maggie wanted something different, they could always put this stuff in a guest room. Next, he got a frying pan, some paper plates, and plastic silverware. Then he hit a grocery store and bought bacon, eggs, bread, peanut butter, Coca-Cola and beer. Now he was ready to move in.
