Cup of Evil: Corruption, Blackmail and Bodies Come to Light When a Sadistic Tycoon is Murdered

by E. Groat

  The club was closed, but several knocks — and the mention of certain names — gained Harry entrance. Harry nodded acknowledgment to all surrounding the table, excused himself, and asked for a moment of Tommy’s time.

  Surprised, and a bit peeved at the interruption, Tommy moved toward Harry and the door for privacy.

  “Listen, Tommy, the tape you gave me…”

  “What, it’s not what you wanted?” Tommy retorted, perturbed. It was rare that any of his work was ever questioned.

  “No, no, that’s not it. The other guy, at the beginning of the video...”

  “Which one?”

  “The little toad-faced one.”

  “Beckman?”

  “Yeah, that’s him. It’s worth $20,000 to me. You got anything on him, I need it by tonight.”

  The reassuring thought of cash replaced any irritability in Tommy’s face. He turned to his compatriots, gave them a nod, and said they would finish up tomorrow. He grabbed his coat and told Harry to give him a couple of hours — and also that it would cost an extra $2,500 for breaking up this little party.

  “Don’t push it, Tommy,” Harry replied. “There are other sources.”

  Tommy heaved his shoulders and said, “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” Outside, Tommy directed Harry to meet him at Rudies at six, and he would have what Harry wanted. Harry had just enough time left to get to the bank; he never had an open line of credit with Tommy.

  Mercifully, the exchange was done quickly that night. Rudies was quiet at the time, the staff still mopping up from the previous night’s crowd, so Harry had no trouble getting in and out. Quickly stuffing the $20,000 in his shirt without counting it, Tommy peered around the hollow, empty room. He always seemed to be nervous doing business in the daylight. Harry noticed the corners of his mouth slightly turn up as he patted his shirt pocket. No wonder — the grinning bastard just collected $20,000 for a few hours of sewer work. Now the snake could crawl back in his hole until next time. Oh yes, the business of sleaze could be very, very lucrative.

  Trying to find justification in the simple act of the exchange, Harry left the place bewildered, glad the day was just about over. He entered Perry’s with a look of relief. The smell of aged beef, sawdust, and beer on tap reassured him that life was good and all had returned to normalcy.

  He spotted Josh hoisting one at a table close to the bar, grabbed a waiter, and ordered the same as he walked over. Heineken on tap. As they both toasted a productive day, Harry pulled the video from his inside pocket, and handed it to a jubilant dinner companion.

  “Harry, you’re a magician.”

  “Is that anything like a pettifogger, Josh?”

  They both laughed, and the rest of the evening was spent in good companionship and camaraderie.

  Chapter 18

  All vestiges of the evening’s warmth and fellowship were erased when Josh viewed the video. The scenes he watched sickened and repulsed him. Beckman had full use of two pale-skinned, young children. One was lashed to a chair, the other facedown on a bed. They were bullied and coerced into unspeakable and obscene acts, all with electrical shocks. Their small, frail bodies subjected to violations that were discernibly well planned. The audio augmented the torture, fear, and pain.

  This was not sexual promiscuity, or even just child molestation — this was naked evil prancing and dancing before him, malevolent self-gratification straight from hell. Where was God? And when the boys swooned, they were unmercifully brought back by smelling salts and made to endure it again. Beckman’s usual sickly, sallow complexion took on a rosy glow as he bequeathed this cruel and inhumane legacy to these two children. Bile roiled Josh’s usually strong stomach. He needed a cool cloth to relieve the need to throw up.

  “The sick fucker needs to die.” The words came to him quickly and unashamedly. Vermin like Beckman surely would not be missed.

  Sleep did not come that night, and Josh slipped to his covered terrace to get some air. The bright April night gave no warmth. As he stretched his face to the sky, a cold moon spotted him, immersing him in a chalky, white mantle. Abruptly, a spring shower cleansed the night air, but its suddenness failed to dislodge Josh from the chaise, where he had chosen to gather his thoughts with a large glass filled with copious amounts of brandy. He watched, mesmerized in jaded wonder, as a green rain fell. Slowly, the night of the city cloistered him in a robe of unreal peace.

  He awoke to the morning chill with dampness and ache in all parts of his body, as he fumbled to the kitchen to fulfill his first desire of the day. Coffee, hot coffee, and lots of it. Midlife moans turned to murmurs when the steaming brew touched his blue lips.

  “Ahh, God’s in his heaven and all’s right with the world…well, almost.” The events of the evening came vividly back to life, and the eruption of anger and hate warmed his numb body.

  Propelled by a hot shower, gallons of black coffee, and a singleness of purpose, Josh directed all venom within toward a positive design. He picked up the video and shoved it in his briefcase, again feeling revulsion permeate his body when he touched it. Then, at that most unseemly moment of disgust and revenge, the image of a small, goofy Irish setter named Gerti took form in his mind. It made him smile. He missed the old dog. On occasions such as these, when times became out of control and frenetic, he found sanctuary and composure in her unquestionable love and loyalty. Life became easier after she had to be put down last year, but at this moment he would put up with all the shedding, slobbering, and bad breath to have her back. It wasn’t so bad. Even when Josh could not perform his doggie duties, he always enlisted the help of Mrs. O’Hara, a retired widow who lived in the same building.

  Strange he should think of that dog now. Maybe it was because she seemed to listen so attentively, or so it seemed with her large, brown eyes looking up at him. Now, all his railings fell unappreciated off silent walls.

  “Man!” Josh thought. “You’ve been living by yourself too long.”

  Oddly, though, thoughts of the old dog had a calming effect on him, and that was what he needed. Calm. Calm to deal with Beckman, an issue he was now quite frankly unsure how to handle. He was ten minutes from the office, and the day had begun. Gentle thoughts of Gerti played in his mind as he shut the door behind him, orchestrating Beckman’s downfall.

  Chapter 19

  Monday morning at the offices of Garth Avery and Zoe Erskine, two incoming calls rang within minutes of each other. The one for Zoe was from Josh Lawton, and the one for Garth from Mayor Harris, both requesting meetings.

  Josh asked that Zoe see him about noon, to which she reluctantly agreed because of the urgency of the request. Garth was summoned to the mayor’s office at his earliest convenience, and responded that he would be there in an hour. After the puzzling phone conversations, Garth and Zoe agreed that whatever the day would bring, it would have a devastating effect on the downtown project. Garth again cautioned Zoe about this Josh character, reminding her again that they knew nothing about him and he was Beckman’s guy. Zoe caught herself again. Garth was right; she had only the dinner that night as her barometer, and first impressions could be deceiving. Their hopes for the fulfillment of her father’s dream again began to dwindle.

  When he arrived for his meeting, Garth was immediately ushered into the mayor’s inner chambers. It seemed that everyone had been put on alert for his arrival. When the mayor extended his hand with what appeared to be great warmth and genuine friendliness, the red flag of suspicion flagrantly unfurled in Josh’s demeanor. He extended his hand coldly.

  “Good to see you again, Mr. Avery,” Harris said, beaming. “I know you are wondering why I’ve asked for this meeting.”

  “No,” Garth thought, “I’m here because I liked your coffee and two-faced, blood-sucking smile.”

  “Please,” the mayor continued, “sit down.”

  Josh’s response to this red-carpet welcome was little more than a half smile and a nod. Garth sat, but in an unrelaxed state.

  “I w
anted to let you know, Mr. Avery, that I have gone over the plans of Mayor Hanks and Mr. Erskine in detail. After review, the city council and I agree that it would be in the best interests of the city and the taxpayers if you and your associates would continue in the same vein as you did before their deaths. The necessary paperwork is being prepared as we speak. My office has taken the liberty to contact the utility companies — water, gas, sewage, and electric — for any and all needed permits, and the marking of new, old, and ongoing utility lines in progress. All you need do is say the word.”

  That was it — short, sweet, and to the point. The barricade to three long years of planning, begging, and sweating for this project was removed with a five-minute meeting. Garth was dumbfounded, and speechless. The momentary silence was broken as the mayor’s secretary extended a large, brown accordion envelope containing the blessings of the city. Regardless of his dislike, Garth grasped Mayor Harris’s hand with gratitude. Harris returned his warmth with a crocodile smile.

  When Garth had left, Mayor Harris slumped down in his seat of power, with the look of a man who had just lost a ten-pound trout. As he gazed about his large office, he just hoped the powers that be were listening.

  Elated, Garth walked the streets, digesting what the past half hour had meant to him, Zoe, and all the others. Perplexed, he gave some thought to why the mayor had changed his mind, and came up empty. Whatever the reason for his change of heart, it was unimportant. It was like Riza had always said, he thought — “Have faith, my friend, and Allah will provide.”

  Garth would never know, how much scorpions, black eyes, and Riza had in common with Allah in that sentence. Riza had received news that his friend Garth had left the courthouse with a smile on his face and the pace of a man who had accomplished a mission. Riza smiled broadly. The words “well done” fell from his lips to all within the soothing command of his voice.

  Chapter 20

  Zoe made arrangements to meet Josh at the wiener vender on the corner where Josh’s building was located. Seeing her coming, Josh rushed up to her, wrapped his arm around her waist, and kissed her on the forehead. This greeting was uncomfortably enjoyed.

  “Your obvious good humor makes me hesitant about this meeting,” she said, still very much aware this man was her opponent. “However, your choice of cuisine is excellent.” They both ordered bratwursts with the works.

  “What I have to say will have to do for dessert,” Josh said.

  “All right, give,” she said. “What’s this all about?”

  Josh looked directly into her pretty blue eyes, grinned from ear to ear, and told her triumphantly that she would not have Nelson Randolph Beckman to contend with any longer concerning her project. Her face lit up like sunlight bursting through clouds — first slightly, then with increased intensity. After a few slight stutters of “who,” “what,” “where,” and “how” — and Josh’s refusal to answer any questions — Zoe reluctantly dropped her curious inquisition and accepted this gift with grateful humility.

  “I will respect your loyalty,” she conceded. Then as she thought about it, she realized loyalty intimated love or caring, and she had neither for this man. She decided to consider this subject still a matter of professional ethics. “Here’s to professional ethics,” she continued. “Now, can we celebrate this obstacle being removed from the project with some wicked dessert? I’m still hungry.”

  A block away was one of the finest European pastry shops in the city. The sun shone warm and inviting, despite a chill in the air too small to keep them from outside seating. Both ordered the “special” coffee black. The waiter returned with something decadently delicious, with chocolate, rum, currants, and hard sauce, with a bit of real whipped cream on top. Zoe rarely celebrated good news with such spurious disregard of caloric intake, but today was different. She was having a grand time, calories be damned!

  Her momentary euphoria over Beckman eclipsed the specter of the mayor, which struck her halfway through her Jamaican Delight. The thought registered on her face in such a way that Josh instantly knew something disturbing had crossed her mind.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “The mayor.”

  Josh wondered how the mayor played into Zoe’s plans. Josh was under the impression that all that was needed was Harris’s cooperation on all plans and paperwork. That’s why Beckman needed something on him, to prevent Harris from signing the final documents. “Why is the mayor a problem for you?” Josh quizzed.

  “Extortion, in a word,” she said. “Harris has intimated a payoff, a big one, to get this thing off the ground. He insists the public trust would be violated if all taxes on the land and buildings aren’t cleared off the books. Everything is on hold until this thing is resolved. Garth and I are out of money. Can’t go forward, can’t go back. Beckman was only half of it.”

  “Holy shit,” Josh thought, “the son of a bitch is playing both ends.” The outcome of this scenario depended on two videos Josh had secured in his wall safe at his office. Essentially, Zoe noted Harris was doing to Garth what Josh had planned to do to Harris.

  “You know, bribery, extortion, collusion, blackmail,” she said. “Take your pick, counselor, it’s all about the same.” She again was reminded of the unsavory circumstances Josh and Beckman were embroiled in back at the old elementary school. “Garth is meeting with the mayor today,” Zoe added.

  “My lady, have no fear, the mayor will not be a problem. Just put your mind at ease. In fact, you will not be going back to your office. You and I are taking the afternoon off.”

  Unsure of a happy outcome, Zoe took this man at his word. She trusted him, and more and more, she was attracted to him. Garth’s words echoed in her ears, “Be careful, we don’t know this guy.” He was right. Trust but verify, as President Reagan used to say.

  Interrupting her musing, Josh’s cajoled her, “Come, my lady, we’re going to see the wonders of the world. Within New York City, of course.”

  The rest of the afternoon, they toured the Metropolitan, the Guggenheim and Rockefeller Center, fed the pigeons, and rode in the park. Josh was relentless with his charm, and Zoe was radiant being on the receiving end of his chivalrous prattle. Pure old-world charm and manner. She lost control somewhere between Rockefeller Center and the carriage ride. It was the kiss — an innocent kiss between two people reveling in the day and the pure joy of living. When the day had ended, and she was reluctantly escorted to her apartment, she felt his strong hand clasp her own, and felt his warm lips and breath on her cheek.

  Feeling silly, she hurried from the lobby to the small, flashing red arrow pointing up on the elevator. It was six-thirty; the entire day had evaporated. She entered her apartment and headed for the solace of a warm bath. It was there she managed to sort out troublesome thoughts. By eight, she heard from Garth.

  “Say, Ms. Gadabout, where have you been all afternoon? Did you get my message?”

  “No. No, Garth, I didn’t.” She had failed to check the voicemail on her arrival.

  “Well I’ve got the best news since Christmas. Look, I’m still at the office. Do you want to eat in tonight?”

  “Yes, Garth. I just got out of the bath and I’m really too tired to go out. Chinese sound okay?”

  “Wonderful. See you in about thirty minutes, and I’ll tell you my news. Love you.” And he hung up.

  When Garth came through the door, she rushed to him and hugged him tightly, severely crushing the little, wire-handled cardboard boxes filled with Chinese goodies.

  “Whoa, hold on. I better bring Chinese every night if it means a greeting like this.” Garth good-naturedly tried to maintain control of all the bags he held, and would have lost the battle if not for Zoe catching a couple hurtling to the floor. Most importantly, she saved the two bottles of plum wine Garth had brought for celebration. They scurried to the kitchen and popped a bottle. Within minutes, there were opened boxes of moo-go-gai-pan, sweet-and-sour pork, emperor’s chicken, crab Rangoon, pot stickers, shrimp wit
h snow peas, and straw mushrooms. Enough for six Chinese New Years.

  This simple take-out meal became a celebration of the end of bad luck and bad tidings, as Garth related the events of the day, and Zoe in turn told Garth of her day with Josh Lawton.

  “Did Lawton tell you why or how? I have no idea why Harris handed me the permits, or why he made his commitment to be of service in any way he could.”

  “Not a peep,” she replied. “At lunch, I was only told that Beckman would no longer be a problem. He seemed genuinely surprised that the mayor had asked for a bribe in order to continue the project. We spent the rest of the day goldbricking. He seemed as if he had a weight lifted from him too.”

  “It’s your charms, woman! No man can resist you.” Garth playfully reached over an order of kung-pao chicken and planted a kiss on her nose.

  “Is that the best you can do?” she complained. She wriggled her toes up his pant leg and fed him a mouthful of shrimp and snow peas.

  “Well, I don’t know, so much depends on motivation,” he teased.

  Garth was a big man with work-defined muscles. She loved to run her hands over his firm stomach, and curled the hair on his solid chest. Moving slowly toward him, she straddled him on the high stool, offering him a sip of her wine. She licked the sweet liquid from the corner of his lips, and continued down to the nape of his neck. Massaging his temples, Zoe stared languidly into his blue-hazed eyes. The open-collared, button-down oxford was slowly removed, and then she allowed her silk robe to fall carelessly to the floor.

  “I’m getting motivated,” he murmured. No need to explain; she already knew.

  She pressed her breast to his, and brushed her lips across his cheek, whispering naughty promises. Raising her legs, she squeezed them tightly around him and drew him near. Standing tall and grasping her securely behind him, he took her to the bed and laid her gently against the pillows. Removing his trousers, he stood before her, deliciously tormenting. She loved this man with all her being and now, as always, she felt supreme love overcome her as they both became one. He kissed her brow and mouth, lingering at her throat, then followed his desire to her small, round belly, where he dallied with soft caresses. Kissing, cajoling and teasing, he pressed on and down until she could no longer bear the sweet anguish.