by Harper Lin
I hadn’t been a junk food gobbling television watcher, but I had swung to the other extreme, and now I was paying for it.
I poured myself a tall glass of tomato juice. It’s the perfect hangover cure. Alcohol drains vitamins A and C from your system and tomatoes are rich in both. A good thing to remember if you ever have to infiltrate an illegal casino.
Sitting down with my tomato juice, I turned on the cell phone receiver. It’s a clever little device that looks like a tablet with a speaker attached. The touchscreen shows all the calls being made at the moment and you touch on its number to listen. It also records all the calls into a two terabyte hard drive and logs the time for each call and the number of the cell phone it connects to.
Work was the last thing I wanted to do right now but I had a mission to accomplish. I turned on the receiver and saw five cell phones currently in use within the transceiver’s coverage area. I touched the first one.
“And on your next delivery could you bring an extra two kilos of gouda? Someone made a big purchase and I’m getting low.”
Must be the manager of Ye Olde Cheese Shoppe. I put that number in the discard folder so it wouldn’t show up on the screen again and clicked the next number.
“Yeah honey, I’m still at the office. Work has really piled up. I’ll be back when I can.”
A gambler making his excuses. I felt tempted to call the number he was calling—his wife’s, no doubt—and tell her what he was really up to. Hangovers always make me grumpy.
I was a good girl and didn’t wreck a marriage. Instead I put that number in the discard folder along with the cheese merchant’s.
“ … Marlboro Golds, and pick up some more gin while you’re at it. That lush nearly drank us dry.”
Lush? Who are you calling a lush? I was getting into character!
The next time I go I’ll have to be a little less in character. But if I got lucky, there wouldn’t be a next time. If they talked enough on the phone, I could gather all the evidence I wanted from the safety and comfort of home.
Sadly, that was the last bit of conversation. The call ended. I put both numbers in the priority folder.
The other two numbers were uninteresting calls from the gamblers, one by a guy telling his boss he felt ill and had worked from home all day, the other from a woman calling her son to wish him a happy birthday and that she’d be late for his party because she was “stuck in traffic”.
I rolled my eyes, a habit I’d picked up from my grandson Martin. I’d never rolled my eyes until I had a teenager in my life. Now I found myself rolling my eyes regularly. Perhaps I should stop chasing criminals. It would give me less reason to roll my eyes.
For a while there were no more calls. Then I wasted some more time listening to gamblers giving excuses for not being wherever it was they were supposed to be, heard all about some rude customer who had just left the cheese shop, and even overheard a call from Elegance Florists and Funeral Displays about how roses shouldn’t be sent to a particular funeral because the deceased had been allergic to them. Why would that matter?
I had to wait another hour before the same number that asked for cigarettes and gin called a new number. My ears perked up. They unperked when all I heard was a routine call about picking up the money that evening. Of course he didn’t reveal where the money went, since that was known to both parties, but I still learned the pickup time and got a third number for the priority folder.
That was enough for one night. I could skim through the recordings tomorrow and spend the rest of the day listening to any new calls. My son’s guest bedroom was calling to me.
The next morning I woke late to a pounding headache, neck ache, back ache, and ankle ache. I might have had some more aches but those four aches were achy enough to drown out all other aches.
After a hangover special of bacon and eggs and black coffee, plus more tomato juice, I checked the cell phone receiver. It took me most of the morning to scan through the calls and I came up with nothing interesting except a couple of first names and two more numbers to put on the priority list. Investigative work can be slow sometimes, especially when the targets were careful like these fellows. They took care never to use last names or talk about specific places. I heard several references to “the boss” but “the boss” never seemed to call anyone. Smart. Cell phones were easily overheard. No doubt they were adding another level of security by using “burners”, cheap disposable cell phones. You could buy them with cash and fill them up with credit you also bought with cash, making them untraceable. They were favored by drug dealers and other criminal types. I kept listening, though, slowly creating a profile of their work habits and first names.
Slow going. I hoped I’d get something juicy soon. My son and his family came back in a few days. The Exterminator needed to be in jail or exterminated before then.
Just as I was finishing up the previous night’s recordings, Octavian called me.
“Hey, pretty lady. Want to bet on some horses today?”
“Um, not today, Octavian. I’m not feeling well.”
“Oh no! The doro wat not agree with you?”
“What? Oh, the wat, I mean the doro wat. No, that was tasty. I think I might be coming down with something.”
“That’s too bad. Maybe tomorrow?”
“Maybe. I think I’ll take a nap now.”
“Oh, all right.”
Octavian sounded disappointed. He was going to get even more disappointed when the Apple Bluff casino got shut down like the last one.
Instead of the nap that I really did feel like having, I went to see Grimal. He’d brought in a police artist who sat with me for an hour until he’d made a good likeness.
Grimal took a look at it when it was done.
“Looks clear enough, but weren’t there two of them?” he asked.
“Excuse me?”
He waggled two fingers in front of my eyes and grinned. “You know, double vision?”
“Very funny. Run this through the system.”
I left before he came out with any more witticisms. I decided to listen to the receiver for a little while longer, take a well-earned nap, and then catch up on anything recorded while I was asleep.
One of the priority numbers was engaged to an unknown number. I clicked it, and the first words I heard made my blood run cold.
“The target’s boyfriend is here. Shall we take him?”
Eight
I rang Octavian’s number, desperately hoping that statement hadn’t meant what I thought it did.
I nearly fainted when he picked up and I saw mine and his numbers appear on the receiver.
“Hello, pretty lady, are you feeling better?”
“Octavian! You’re at the casino in Apple Bluff.”
“No I’m--, um, how did you know?”
“You have to get out of there. You’re in danger!”
“Oh come now, why would I be in danger? Cynthia knew somebody and set it all up. It’s safe. Come on down.”
“Don’t ask me how I know, but you need to get out of there right away and find the nearest policeman.”
“Policeman?”
“Listen. Just trust me on this. You need to get out of there right now.”
“Huh? You’re not making any sense. Hold on, one of the workers is coming over.”
“Octavian!”
I heard him talking to someone, his words too faint to make out. He had obviously taken the phone away from his head. I heard something that might have been “come with us”. Then I heard Octavian shout, “Cheating! You’re crazy.” There came a thud, and the phone hung up.
I immediately called Grimal, telling him to send a couple of plainclothesman as backup. He wanted to go in guns blazing, desperate to repeat his hero routine, but I talked him out of it. We needed to do this carefully in order to keep Octavian from getting hurt. Plus, I was still hoping to nab the whole gang and put a stop to this once and for all.
As I rushed to get changed into my disgu
ise, I listened to the cell phone scanner.
“We got him. Pretended to kick him out for cheating and then brought him around back,” said the voice that had ordered cigarettes.
“You still have him on the property?” asked a suave voice I didn’t recognize from a number I hadn’t seen before. Could this be the boss?
“Yeah, but in the back. The marks don’t suspect a thing. We’re keeping him quiet.”
When they said “marks”, that meant the gamblers. They didn’t see them as people, only targets from whom to get money. They wouldn’t look at Octavian as a person either. They only saw him as a way to get to me.
They’d been watching us more closely than I suspected. How much else did they know about me?
“Pump him for information, but don’t get rough. We don’t want him making noise. Just scare the hell out of him,” the suave voice ordered.
Cigarette man gave a harsh laugh. “Oh, he’s plenty scared already!”
He hung up. As I finished my disguise and drove as fast as I dared for Apple Bluff, I didn’t hear any more calls from the gangsters. Not a single one. Their silence made me more afraid than their words.
As I pulled into Apple Bluff, I got a call from Grimal.
“We’re in luck. There was a drug crimes unit monitoring some alleged dealing near a school. We got them reassigned. Officers Lichtmann and Budge. They’re in a gray sedan parked in front of the cheese shop.”
Grimal sounded all business. Despite his many faults, when the chips were down he could be relied upon. Sort of.
“What’s your plan?” he asked.
Plan? I didn’t really have a plan.
“I have a membership card. I can get in with no trouble. They’re holding him in the back room so get one of your men to cover that exit, but keep out of sight of the cameras. There’s sure to be one at both entrances. I’m going to try and extract Octavian without any gunplay. If I need backup, I’ll call you.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Grimal said. “A patrol car will be just around the corner waiting to move in if needed.”
“Good. Thanks.” I hung up and focused on driving. My heart was beating dangerously fast. My doctor had warned me about stress, saying a woman my age should take it easy. That had been a civilian doctor who didn’t know me or my past. Take it easy? Avoid stress? That didn’t seem to be the life I was fated to live, even after retirement.
Grimal called me a few minutes later as I was getting off the highway to tell me that an off-duty officer who happened to be near the strip mall and was out of uniform had been called in and was monitoring the back entrance. That made me feel better. Grimal also said he was on the way. That didn’t make me feel anything at all.
I parked well away from the view of the camera in front of the door. I was back to driving my own car and I didn’t want them to notice the change. I got out, wearing flats and a more sensible dress this time, but with the full disguise on. The only addition to the ensemble was my handy 9mm automatic tucked in my purse. I had even brought along my spare clip. Despite my assurances to the Cheerville police chief, I had my doubts about getting out of this without gunplay. In fact, I was pretty tempted to go in there shooting every mobster I saw.
As I walked across the parking lot, I could feel myself breaking out in a cold sweat. I took several slow, deep breaths, forcing myself to calm down.
Scoping out the parking lot, I spotted the two drug cops sitting in their car. One was on his cell phone while the other pretended to read a newspaper. The parking spaces near the entrance to the casino were mostly full. Good, the mobsters hadn’t shut the place down. It was business as usual while they kept my boyfriend hostage in the back room.
Another spike of fear shot through me, forcing me to take several more slow breaths. What if that suave voice I had heard on the phone had been the Exterminator and not the head of this operation? What would he do to poor old Octavian?
I needed to calm down and get in there.
I stopped by the front door and focused. I’d faced a lot worse situations before, and fear would not help me, only a clear head could. I recalled a time when James was trapped in a burning building in Palestine while a platoon of jihadists took potshots at him from outside. The area around the building had been completely open, just a fallow field. If he had fled the building he would have been a dead man. If he had stayed in the building he would have been a dead man.
Octavian was in no worse situation. I had gotten James out of that building, and I would get Octavian out of this one.
I cleared my head, got into character, and rang the buzzer.
Pierre didn’t answer this time. Instead it was another mobster, one of the ones who had been serving drinks the day before. I forced myself to smile.
“Hello darling, remember me? I’m back for more fun!”
“May I see your membership card, madam?”
I felt like sticking my gun in his mouth. Instead I handed over the card.
“Welcome back. Glad to see you so soon.”
“Any good action this morning?” I asked.
He kept a good poker face. “No, pretty quiet so far. It will liven up now that you’re here.”
“It sure will,” I muttered.
I entered the casino and found the bouncer had been correct, it was pretty quiet. About a dozen people were there, mostly watching the races. A desultory poker game was going on at one of the tables. If it had been any other situation I would have found the place boring. I wondered what all the other cars in the parking lot were for. Perhaps a big sale of extra stinky Limburger at Ye Olde Cheese Shoppe? An especially popular corpse at Elegance Florists and Funeral Displays? Who knew?
I took a seat by myself near one of the televisions at a table to the side of the room so I could keep an eye on both entrances. It was out of character for me to sit alone, so to compensate I ordered a double whiskey on the rocks. I couldn’t bear to even think about gin.
My mind raced. Now what? I had come here with only a vague plan of extracting Octavian from this mess, but I had no idea how.
We seemed to have the advantage. Police guarded both entrances, I was inside, and the mobsters had no idea they were in danger. The problem was, I didn’t have direct communication with the police and since the cop at the back had been off duty, he probably didn’t have a radio to contact the cops at the front. Communication is vital in an operation like this, and we had none.
Come to think of it, was the off-duty officer even armed?
I took out my racing form and pretended to study it, all the while trying to keep an eye on the thugs who ran this place. They appeared remarkably calm, as if kidnapping a kind seventy-year-old man was a daily occurrence for them. Perhaps it was. They certainly didn’t seem to expect any trouble.
My phone buzzed. Grimal. Picking up, I could hear he was in his car.
“What is it?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm and level.
“I’m almost there,” he said.
“Well, that makes me feel better. Any news?”
“None. We’re keeping watch,” Grimal was using a cocky, overly manly tone I didn’t like. It would have sounded convincing coming from the Exterminator or Pierre or even Octavian, but Grimal? Not so much.
“Nothing much going on here either,” I said, keeping my voice low.
“Once we get into position we’ll give them a few minutes to come out. If they don’t, we’ll have to announce ourselves and demand they give up.”
“Are you crazy?” I hissed. “You know how that could turn out.”
“What choice do we have?”
I noticed one of the waiters passed close by and gave me a look. I realized I wasn’t in character. I took a slug of whiskey and my stomach roiled. Gorge rose in my throat and I forced it back down. Oh dear, the last thing I needed while trying to rescue my new boyfriend was to get sick.
Waiting until the waiter was out of earshot, I whispered, “Look, you just stay put. If you interfere,
I swear to God I’ll nail you to the wall. Let me handle this.”
“How?” Grimal’s question came out as a challenge.
I didn’t have an answer to that. I needed a bit of time to assess the situation. Maybe I’d see an opening.
“Just sit tight and don’t do anything foolish.”
I hung up on him, then texted him.
Text me if there’s any news. Can’t risk another call.
Just then a waiter came up.
“Are you ready to place a bet, ma’am?”
“Um, yes.” Putting away my phone. Had he seen? His face was a mask.
I placed a bet on an upcoming dog race, picking a dog at random.
Time stretched out. I resisted the urge to glance at my watch.
The race started. As subtly as I could, I glanced around the room. Nothing seemed amiss.
Why was I so nervous? I’d been through worse than this more times than I could count. This shouldn’t be bothering me at all. Was it because I was getting on in years? No, I’d solved two murders and been in a gunfight since moving to Cheerville and none of that put me so out of sorts. What had changed?
Octavian.
Every time I’d been on a mission before, I’d either been alone or with someone qualified to handle the job. I’d always worried when James was in the line of fire, but I knew he had the skills to get himself out of it. Octavian didn’t. The only thing he’d ever shot was a deer. He’d never had to deal with a situation like this. The poor fellow might be so afraid he’d get a heart attack.
The waiter’s voice behind me snapped me out of my unpleasant thoughts.
“Here are your winnings, ma’am.”
I admit I jumped a bit. I hadn’t been this edgy on a job in years. My training kicked in, however, and by the time I turned to him I was the drunk, happy floozy Celeste Tammany.
“Oh, thank you darling!” I said, my gaze flicking to the television for the first time since the race had started. The race had ended and a new one had begun without my noticing.
