‘And how are we getting this Lezzi from the booby hatch, just because he might have committed a murder? I don’t even see how this is a matter for the FBI.’
At least this idiot is talking about the job at hand now and no longer about Lenita, Jablonski thought.
He said: ‘There were three people killed at the gas station: Jesus Alvarez, the proprietor, as well as Gregory Nolan and Samuel O’Leary. The latter two belonged to the Irish mob. We’re involved because of gang activities beside a possible kidnapping.’
‘All the better,’ Orlando joked. ‘And this Lezzi managed to play the poor, insane bystander?’
Jablonski nodded with a frown. ‘Mario Lezzi managed to get away with the help of a psychiatric report, otherwise he would have been in jail at the time of the bloodbath. Why shouldn’t he try the same trick a second time? Last time it worked like a dream.’
‘Do you think the new findings will stand up to closer examination?’
‘The devil only knows,’ Jablonski growled. ‘The main thing is, his old trick won’t work a second time.’
The two agents reached the mighty complex of the Manhattan Psychiatric Center. Jablonski steered the Ford Crown Victoria to the visitor’s parking area.
They showed their identification and gained access to the station where Mario Lezzi was held as a patient.
The station head was called Dr. Tanaka. He was a small man in dark glasses and a white, immaculate smock. The psychiatrist shook his head when Jablonski made his request.
‘For medical reasons I cannot allow that Mr. Lezzi is taken for questioning to the FBI Field Office. For the time being, he requires absolute rest and …’
Jablonski interrupted him.
‘As far as I’m concerned, you can state whatever complaint you wish to make. But we are taking Lezzi with us!’
‘I protest, I …’
‘Enough!’ Orlando cut in, who quite clearly wanted to say or do something. He raised a hand and turned to a sister who attempted to pass the three men.
‘Where have you taken Mario Lezzi, sweetheart?’
‘Room 19a,’ she replied fluttering huge eyelashes at the well-built agent.
Jablonski and Orlando marched in the indicated direction, while Dr. Tanaka uttered unheard insults behind their backs.
Jablonski opened the door to the room without bothering to knock.
‘Only the best.’ His partner commented after casting a look around the patient’s room.
‘But the patient is missing – where is this Lezzi right now?’
The question was directed at the doctor who had followed them.
‘I don’t understand that.’ Dr. Tanaka stammered. ‘Normally the door cannot be opened from the inside. See for yourself! There is no door handle.’
‘But the staff have special keys, I assume?’ Jablonski inquired.
Before the doctor could answer, a shrill, female voice filled the air.
Jablonski and Orlando drew their weapons and rushed in the direction from which the sounds had come.
A sister had moments before open the door to the emergency exit. Perhaps she longed for a quick smoke on the stairway? Whatever the reason, she had discovered an unconscious man in his underwear, laying on the floor.
‘Who is he?’ Jablonski inquired from the nurse.
‘Mr. Robertson, from internal security.’
The heavy-set agent nodded grimly before he turned to Orlando.
‘Send out a top urgent message to search and arrest, Vince. Lezzi is about the same size and build as this sorry excuse for a would-be cop. The suspect is on the run in a stolen uniform from this high-security establishment.’
32
Lenita Borges had several hours earlier switched off her Smartphone. She had no wish to be contacted, either by Chuck nor anyone else. She was totally overcome by the events. While it had been a relief to unburden herself to Jablonski, she hated having to admit her own weakness. But it had happened and the words could not be taken back.
That damned red wine.
When she was halfway sober again, she pulled on her dark jeans and a navy-blue sweatshirt with the letters NEW YORK HARBOUR printed on it. Then she left her apartment and climbed into her private Toyota.
She selected the Manhattan Psychiatric Center as her target in the navigation system.
She was still suspended. But no one could hinder her from keeping an eye on Mario Lezzi in her own time. She sensed the devil had long since his arrest hatched an escape plan. If her superiors and the prosecutor were afraid of Mario’s defense lawyer or the psychiatric opinion, it would be their problem.
Borges knew, her former lover was a trickster.
But when she reached the sprawling buildings of the hospital, her heart sank and her courage waned. What did she have in mind other than revenge?
She knew from past experience that Mario would be held in a tightly sealed department. It would be impossible to march in. She had known such establishments from previous experience. Of course, she could try to represent herself as Mario’s sister or friend.
But what then?
No, she could not afford to get close to him. If her suspicions were right, he would try to escape. Maybe he had already succeeded. And she had not been told because she was still suspended.
At worst, I’ll be wasting my time here, she thought angrily. She parked her car so that she could watch the entrance to the main building.
The beginning of another soul-destroying, boring observation.
Despite that thought, Borges hoped to discover something useful. Although she might just as well have remained in her apartment, staring at the walls. At least, that was how she felt.
She observed the entrance with schooled experience. People entered or left the hospital, visitors or staff on their way home. Patients that walked clumsily under the influence of their ailments or medication.
Two hours later, she suddenly stiffened.
Although she had been halfway out of this world only a short while ago, her head was suddenly clear. Mario left the main entrance! He walked in a military fashion, no doubt added by the uniform of a security guard. Those characters often showed signs of complexes since they had failed the entry examinations to the New York Police Department. They sometimes compensated for their failings by adopting an exaggerated military appearance.
Mario imitated that bodily appearance like a seasoned actor. He played the perfect part.
For a few moments, Borges was overcome by a wave of euphoria.
Suspended or not – she could arrest the man who threatened to ruin her career and make good her own mistakes. No doubt he had simply stolen the uniform. The hospital and judiciary could only be thankful that she had kept her eyes open.
Despite her excitement, she forced herself to think clearly. She pulled her service weapon from the glove compartment and opened the car door.
So far, Mario had not noticed her presence. He strode without haste to the car park. No doubt, he was about to steal a car. And where did he intend to go?
Most likely, Mario’s first goal would be a meeting with his killer-sister. The two of them had always been extremely close.
Suddenly, Borges knew what she had to do.
She ducked down and approached him as his back was turned towards her. As long as she remained within the cover of the parked cars, he could not see her. Her sport shoes allowed her to move almost soundless.
Mario never knew of her presence until she rammed the barrel of her gun into his kidney.
‘The uniform suits you, Guapo. Perhaps you should have tried honest work. Or are you too crazy to stand a shift from nine to five?’
Mario stiffened but did not turn around. It was not necessary. Borges knew he had recognized her voice.
‘What do you want, Lenita?’
‘Walk to your left, to my car. The white Toyota., if you remember right. We’re going on a little trip. I’m sure, you’re itching to see your dear sister again.’
&nb
sp; 33
Lucia hated herself as her hands grew moist. And she declined to check her pulse. She knew well enough why she was so nervous.
If she made only the slightest mistake, she would never hold Adrian well and alive in her arms. She had no illusions about the people with whom she was dealing in the next few minutes.
Because of people like them, professional killers existed.
And Lucia would have loved to kill everyone of these kidnappers, even without earning a single cent.
She took a deep breath.
Now she could wait not a minute longer to make the call. Time was against her.
She wiped the perspiration from her forehead and stared into the dirty water of the Schelde as if the river held a secret.
Then she dialed the number of Adrian’s kidnappers.
She heard the ring three times.
Lucia’s confidence waned second by second. There was no way to reach these people other than by phone. If she did not stick to the instructions Gordon had given her, these bastards would offer the helpless child to real perverts.
She could not finish those thoughts that were simply too frightening.
How strange, Lucia thought with self-irony. So much blood on my hands. And still there are fantasies that frighten me.
A man’s voice answered.
‘Ja?’
She instantly created an imaginary picture of the person who answered the telephone in her mind. It was one of her habits. And although the bastard had only uttered one word, she formed an inner representation of him.
There was a bodily smell about him. She could not tell why she was convinced of that. Perhaps it was all in her mind. On not.
Hygiene did not matter to him since he had no wish to impress women, nor need. It was even possible he feared adult females. That was why he preferred little girls or even little boys.
She imagined him to be short, even fat. He probably kept his head low and watched everyone with sly looks and a measure of fear.
And showed a false friendliness.
A man, whom people without strong feelings for others thought to be a good friend or helpful neighbor. And who deep inside his rotten being possessed a soul as dark as the night. She licked her dry lips. She had to say something.
‘I m calling about the goods we ordered.’ She forced herself to blurt out in English. Her voice had a metallic ring, she realized. As steely as the pistol in her handbag. And she despised herself for talking about Adrian in this manner. But there was no other way. If she wanted these pieces of offal to believe her, she had to play the part and talk their language.
‘Oh yes, the goods …,’ the disgusting voice repeated, dripping with pleasure. ‘The goods are as ever in the best of order, untouched.’
He spoke with an accent, which was no surprise to Lucia. She was dealing in all likelihood with a Belgian or German motherfucker. It did not matter to her which.
‘That was my assumption,’ she answered icily. ‘After all, we paid quite enough for the goods. Where will the handover take place?’
‘You wouldn’t be thinking of luring me into a trap? I’m allergic to blue. The color makes me sick.’
Police uniforms in Belgium had the same color as in the States.
‘I don’t like blue either,’ she replied. ‘I prefer red, blood-red to be exact. Now, can you deliver or not?’
For a moment she heard only the man’s heavy breathing. Had she pushed it too far? If he thought he was talking to a police woman it was unlikely their conversation would last much longer. The boys in blue could trace his phone without too many difficulties in a short time.
All this Lucia had taken into account but quickly discarded. She could also get a result from Gordon in a few minutes. But the caller was probably only a small fish. It would be impossible to follow the trail to Adrian through him. Certainly not before a pervert had Adrian in his hands.
‘Of course we shall supply the goods. After all, we have to guard our reputation – are you already in Antwerp?’
‘Yes.’
‘Excellent. Go to the park Noordkasteel at midnight. You will find a lake that can be crossed by a wooden bridge. There we will hand over the goods a twelve o‘clock, midnight. And come alone. If we become aware of a trap, the goods will end up in the lake.’
Lucia’s heart missed a beat. She did not want to think of Adrian desperately fighting against his death while his small lungs filled with murky water. She would do anything to avoid that happening.
‘Of course it is understood, I will come alone,’ Lucia promised. ‘After all, I am a professional.’
The caller gave a dirty laugh and hung up.
34
Mario felt trapped.
While he allowed himself to be pushed to the car, he feverishly sought for an escape route. Unfortunately, at this moment, no bright idea would come to his mind. And he knew his former lover only too well. If he should make a crucial mistake now, she would not hesitate to shoot. And that without turning a hair.
If anyone made Lenita Borges mad, she would not hesitate to repay like with like.
It was a fact, Mario realized with great regrets. Therefore, he decided not to worsen the situation.
If that was at all possible.
‘Get in on the driver’s side. And no dirty tricks, or you'll end up on the coroner's steel table. Understood?’
She unlocked her car without lowering her weapon. But she held her pistol in such a fashion that she could not be overlooked by someone passing by. Only at close hand would the threat be noticed.
Mario followed suit.
Sadly, he could not suddenly roar away, because Lenita had kept the keys from him. She thinks of everything, he reasoned as she rounded the bonnet and sank into the passenger seat before handing him the keys.’
‘Start the engine!’
‘I can understand that you’re made at me …’
‘No, you can’t.’ Lenita cut him short. ‘You have no idea what is happening to me. Because of your lies and the cheap trick of your mafia lawyer, I have been suspended. Can you even imagine what that means for me? It was hard enough to be accepted by the FBI and scrape through the tricky training. But I did it and I loved it. It was my dream. And because of a lousy criminal like you, my whole career is going down the drain.’
‘I couldn’t think of anything else at that moment.’ Mario defended himself. He realized that this excuse stank to high heaven. But right now he didn't know anything better to say. At least he showed some regret and good will by starting the engine to leave the car park.
‘I noticed that …’ Lenita replied, still seething. She sat with the pistol again pointing at his upper body. And she would shoot, if necessary, he realized. He had gone to far this time. This was personal to her. Shit.
‘Where do you want me to drive, Lenita?’
‘I don’t know yet. In any case, we shall pay Lucia a visit. You’ll like that. In all likelihood, you left the looney bin only to find her. Last time you were there, you took it as a holiday and stayed much longer, didn’t you?’
Lenita read him like a book, and he found little liking in that.
Normally, he would have taken his time before leaving his temporary safe haven. That experience had been valuable. He had grown to like the security of the department. Of course, there were patients in need of serious help. But Mario did not despise them, rather found them simply interesting. And it seemed a mystery to him, that the doctors had not recognized the simulator in him.
Or was that simply a figment of his imagination?
Could it be that he was really mentally disturbed, while believing himself healthy?
He laughed.
‘What’s so funny?’ Lenita uttered from between clenched teeth.
‘I didn’t laugh about you …’
‘And I wouldn’t advise it.’
‘… but the situation I find myself in. I just thought I might really be insane.’
‘That is my considered a
nd certain opinion.’ Lenita replied. ‘And I’ll gladly take you back to the funny farm – but not before I’ve arrested your sister.’
‘I’ve no idea where she might be now.’
He had hardly completed the sentence when his former lover rammed the pistol hard into his side.
He continued quickly: ‘But I can imagine where she might be hiding out. Lucia has a good friend and confidant. His name is Gordon. He’s helped her more than once in the past.’
‘Wonderful, so let’s pay this Gordon a visit.’
Mario had no choice but to obey her order. He glanced nervously at Lenita.
‘You’re still suspended, right?’
‘Boy, you are clever.’ Her voice dripped with sarcasm. ‘Sure, all this here is for my own amusement in my spare time. I’m joy-riding around the neighborhood in my private jalopy and this gun here pointing at you isn’t a standard FBI issue but my personal weapon. I’ll only call my colleagues when I’ve got you and your sister in front of my equalizer. Then our agents can come and decorate you with the cuffs.’
‘I don’t suppose there is any way to change your mind?’
‘Nope. And I’ll certainly won’t let you escape for the sake of old times.’
Lenita sniffed contemptuously.
‘Lucia is trying to rescue a child,’ Mario decided to tell her the truth. ‘If she should end up behind bars, poor little Adrian is lost.’
‘You must understand that I don’t look on your sister as my bosom pal. I assume you’re talking about Old Barns’ grandson, or? If Lucia is in possession of any facts about the case, she should relate them to us. For child abductions, the FBI is the right address.’
‘Sometimes other methods work better, Lenita. Mainly because we’re not hampered by stupid laws.’
‘If everybody thought that way, we’d be mired in the rules of the strongest – let’s leave such moral-psycho discussions for later, okay? Once you’re safely behind bars in Rikers, I’ll gladly visit you to debate the merits of right and wrong. Or I’ll describe to you, how my new boyfriend is in bed, while you’re sitting behind a bullet-proof window with an officer breathing down your neck.’
Killer Girls Page 14
