Out Jumps Jack Death: A Clancy Evans Mystery (Clancy Evans PI Book 8)

by M. Glenn Graves

  “It can also be powerful.”

  I told him about the hologram of the Thai currency plates. I related everything that Rogers had discovered.

  “Rogers,” he said.

  “She’s a whiz. Now, does it help?”

  “Maybe, but I need time to process. Too many angles for only one deduction.”

  “Well, the bad guys still want to skin you alive and then shoot you, so you have plenty of time to ponder or process if you stay close to nature.”

  “I’m thinking that they want to tie up my loose end, if you please … and they must be counting on you two ladies not knowing what it is I retrieved from Bangkok. So, they get rid of me and they figure that they are home free to … what?”

  “Make money,” I said.

  “You mean as in print some counterfeit Thai currency?” Rosey asked.

  “Or sell the hologram to the highest bidder. I suppose that Wilkerson and his loose-knit organization of crooks have no intention of moving to Thailand. That means that there is no good reason for them to make the counterfeit bills. They simply need a buyer.”

  “Point. But still, they have to be gambling that I have not told anyone about the hologram file.”

  “True. But maybe Wilkerson already knows or knows you well enough to think that you don’t know anything about that file, so his reason to kill you is simply to rid the world of the person who brought the golden box back. Dead men seldom ask questions.”

  “Which means he certainly doesn’t know anything about you and the Rogers-machine, so he has no way of knowing you could gain the knowledge which would likely do him in,” Rosey said.

  “He only knows that Diamond and I have been prowling around his office and home. So, you gonna stay here in the wilds?”

  “I should stay for now,” he said. “And ponder. I hope you’re right about the time thing.”

  “You mean that plenty-word?”

  “That would be the one,” he said.

  “Yeah. I hope I’m right. We’ll go back and see what happens next.”

  “Nothing like a succinct plan.”

  “My thinking exactly,” I said. “Let me know what all that pondering and processing produces.”

  Less than two hours later, Starnes and I were back at the truck and headed out of the wilderness. Another forty minutes, give or take, and we were back at her place.

  “How long is the vet gonna keep Sam?”

  “She promised to call when she thinks he’s okay to come home.”

  “He’s lucky they didn’t kill him.”

  “Hard head.”

  “It’s genetic.”

  I smiled without a verbal agreement.

  We were eating pizza for supper when my cell rang. I had remembered to turn it back on after we had arrived at Starnes’ place. It was a restricted call.

  “I think this is the call I’ve been expecting,” I said to Starnes.

  She shrugged while I let the cell ring a couple more times.

  “Hello,” I said calmly.

  I tried to sound sweet and innocent. I don’t think I pulled it off. Sweet and innocent has always been a stretch for me.

  “We’ve got your friend and if you want her to stay alive, do as we say,” a distorted voice on the phone said. The voice had an artificial tonality. It was probably one of those electronic devices which change a human voice to sound mechanical or eerie. I always thought that disguising one’s voice like Mel Blanc was a neater way to go. You know, like Daffy Duck or Bugs Bunny, or maybe even Yosemite Sam. But then, I’m not one of those tough guys who likes mechanical gadgets, nor do I go out and kidnap people.

  “How many men do you have guarding her?”

  “What?” the mechanical voice sounded confused.

  “How many?” I repeated.

  “She’s not going anywhere anytime soon,” mechanical voice said, trying to get back on course.

  “Okay, here’s the deal. If you still have her tomorrow morning around ten o’clock, and you still want to keep her, then call me back and we will work out the negotiations.”

  “What the hell are you talkin’ about lady?” the confused mechanical voice said. The voice was no longer controlled and confident. Nothing like pushing the right buttons.

  “Do you know the story The Ransom of Red Chief?” I said.

  “The Ransom of Red Chief?” the voice repeated in a higher octave but still mechanical.

  “By O’Henry.”

  “I don’t care who wrote the damn story. What are you talkin’ about?”

  “Tell me how many men are guarding my friend.”

  “That’s none of your concern. What you need to focus on is that she will die if you don’t do what I say. Are you listening to me?”

  “I hear your words, but apparently you are not listening to me, or you don’t think you need to listen. But, here’s the thing – if you don’t have more than two or three strong and well-trained men guarding the woman you took, then you are in serious trouble.”

  “I have highly trained operatives watching her. She is secure. Unless you do exactly as I say, she will die.”

  “If you still have her tomorrow morning, secure, as you say, then call me back and we will negotiate. You have my word on it. I will comply with your wishes, if you still have her.”

  I ended the call.

  “You’re crazy,” Starnes said as she took a bite of pizza.

  “You know the story by O’ Henry?”

  “Aren’t you toying with Diamond’s life here?”

  “Probably not. She would not want me to negotiate with these people, nor would she want me to send in the cavalry. Besides, I trust her to find a way out of a desperate situation.”

  “I think you’re playing at a dangerous game for your … ah … friend.”

  “Back to the story of Red Chief. You remember it?”

  “I seem to recall a little boy who was more difficult to handle than the kidnappers had imagined.”

  “Good. The parents ended up blackmailing the kidnappers who were more than willing to give back the supposed victim.”

  “So your thinking is that Diamond can escape or make her captors regret their plan in the first place.”

  “Without a doubt, if they only have two or three people guarding her. It will be as child’s play for her. And,” I interrupted my thought, bit into my pizza slice and chewed slowly. Yum, yum.

  “And?” Starnes said.

  “My thinking is not that Diamond can escape. She will escape. Period.”

  “So how many would it take to secure her?”

  “You mean of course besides the straight jacket along with the leg irons in a locked room with no windows … no fewer than eight heavily armed gunmen.”

  “Houdini herself,” Starnes said with her focus clearly on the slice of pizza.

  “She’s wily and deadly.”

  “I know the deadly part, just hadn’t heard about her escape artistry.”

  “Multi-talented,” I said and chewed.

  “And if you’re wrong?”

  “I’m not wrong.”

  “I don’t want you negotiating for me if I am ever kidnapped,” Starnes said.

  27

  I called the vet the next morning around eight. I was too antsy to wait for her to call me. I missed my dog. Sam was awake and demanding to be freed from his habitat. I picked him up and was headed back to Starnes’ house when Rogers called.

  “I have a clue,” she said.

  “Clues are good.”

  “And somewhat essential in our line of work.”

  “One might think so, but, sometimes if you just nose around and make some people mad, you discover all sorts of things without the benefit of clues.”

  “Would not those forthcoming events from anger be clues?”

  “What have you found?” I said, not willing to give her the benefit of agreeing with her insight.

  “A name.”

  “Names are good. Who is this person you have named?�
�

  “A cohort to Thaddeus Wilkerson.”

  “Cohort.”

  “In this case it means a follower.”

  “Thank you. What’s the name?”

  “Jeffrey Durant.”

  “Anything else?”

  “He’s an agent with the Secret Service. Works mostly with the Bureau of Engraving and Printing, hence the connection with Thaddeus. He’s been with the Service for fifteen years. Has a respectable record, but it’s not spotless. A time or two he has been questioned about some missing items, but nothing ever proven as to his involvement. No charges filed against him. Still, those incidents have thwarted his advancement in his line of work.”

  “Thwarted,” I repeated.

  “I am always endeavoring to enhance my vocabulary so as to communicate more effectively with you.”

  “I might need to read more to keep up,” I said.

  “That would not help. I can devour more than ten thousand words per minute.”

  “Be still my heart.”

  “You bet your life, Sweetie.”

  “Anything else about this Jeffrey Durant?”

  “He’s single and does not have much money.”

  “So maybe he’s the other guy that Marvin overheard that morning in the Treasury Building.”

  “Maybe, but he’s not from Maine. Grew up in Arkansas. I’m still leaning heavily towards Michael Salzburg for that other guy Marvin overheard. You want me to investigate this Durant guy further?”

  “Dig deeply, my love.”

  “Don’t get mushy. I am not affected by such talk.”

  The weather was overcast and it was after nine o’clock. Rain appeared to be imminent. I was expecting a call and it was after the time that I had given the so-called kidnappers to get back to me.

  Sam bolted from the truck and scurried around the place looking for Dog. He returned to me disappointed.

  Starnes was waiting on the front porch in the rocking chair.

  “He misses her,” Starnes observed.

  “I know. Good friends are hard to find.”

  “Yeah, they are. You get a call?”

  “Only from Rogers giving me a name.”

  I relayed Rogers’ information. Before Starnes could comment, I received a restricted call.

  “Aha,” I said.

  “Aha, as in the perpetrators are calling?”

  “We shall learn forthwith,” I said. “Hello, this is Clancy Evans, Psychic Advisor. How may I assist you?”

  “Think you’re so damn cute, huh?” a strange but human voice with no mechanical subterfuge spoke to me. Perhaps some developing progress with our adversaries.

  “Well, I do have some good features.”

  “Who was she?”

  “More than you could handle, obviously.”

  “Okay, we need to meet and talk.”

  “First, tell me where she is?”

  “I have no idea. She got away.”

  “And no one gave chase?”

  “Didn’t hire my men as trackers. I was away at the time. She left no obvious trail. Kinda illusive.”

  “Rather,” I said. “Forgive me for doubting you here despite the real possibility that she did, in fact, escape from your clutches. Do you have any hard evidence of said escape?”

  “Just how do I prove that? I don’t have her. I have some injured recruits. I could send you some photos of my injured men and the empty chair where she was being restrained prior to her exit. But photos don’t prove a damn thing. Let’s meet and talk. Let’s see if we can come to some resolve in this.”

  “Accurate observation regarding photos,” I said. “But talking is good. Meeting with you is not so good.”

  “Let’s meet in a public place,” the gruff voice said.

  “You have guys who are trained as sharp shooters, although their skills have not manifested many accolades thus far,” I said.

  “Let’s not forget the car crash.”

  I was surprised that he knew about that episode since his hired assassins had all been eliminated by Diamond. Best guess was that he had no idea that Diamond was the one who had reduced his number of hired hands in that episode. But then, maybe he did know that I was the one who had survived that car crash.

  I decided to test him.

  “You got some bad intel there, I suspect.”

  “Not if photos lie,” he said. “My protégé sent me a photo of an upside down SUV … a Jeep, it appeared to be. You drive a Jeep. Were you the one who almost died? Perhaps your side has been lucky.”

  “Or perhaps good?”

  “Better than most, but your luck could run out. You or someone close to you came dangerously close in that rain storm.”

  “You’re the one counting bodies, not us.”

  “Public place in D.C. Let’s talk this out.”

  “You can talk now. I’m listening.”

  “Not nearly secure enough. Face to face is better.”

  “Well, my dear adversary, unless you cease and desist this game of cat and mouse, we have nothing to discuss, publicly or privately. Wow, I like that cease and desist. Always wanted to say that to someone. Sounds so definitive.”

  “You’re a strange woman, to say nothing of an unusual detective,” he said.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment, considering the source. At least you’ve done your homework on me. To a degree. Should have done more homework on that woman you grabbed,” I said.

  “I told them to grab you.”

  “Yikes. Hard to find good help these days. Imagine that. How silly of your hired hands.”

  “It would seem so.”

  “How many did my friend kill when she escaped?”

  There was a long pause. It sounded as if the line had gone dead. Maybe the call had been dropped. I moved away from the house searching for a stronger signal.

  “You still there?” I said.

  “I’m here. I lost three.”

  “I would say I am sorry, but it was your faux pas along with your questionable intel.”

  “Meet with me,” he said. “Public square. Downtown D.C. No sharp shooters. Just the two of us.”

  “You are not exactly trustworthy. I pick the place.”

  “Done. Tell me where and I’ll be there alone,” he said.

  “I’ll call you fifteen minutes before we meet. If you’re late, I’ll know you’re setting me up.”

  “That’s not much time. D.C. has too much traffic. I need more than fifteen minutes.”

  “True, but gives me the element of spontaneity. And a place without hidden agendas. You will have ample time to arrive, but not enough to plant assassins on rooftops or find a high rise with a window to view our spot.”

  “I don’t want to kill you.”

  “Your behaviors thus far would prove otherwise,” I said.

  “I’ve changed my mind.”

  “I’m supposed to believe that?”

  “You have my word.”

  “You jest.”

  “Okay. Given our brief but warring history, I understand your reticence. You set the terms for our meeting,” gruff said.

  “I know too much. In fact, I know more than you think I know. Knowledge is dangerous, especially my knowledge about you and your interests. You need to eliminate me from time and space. Besides that, I will continue to protect my friend. As long as it takes with whatever it takes.”

  “Friends are overrated,” he said and laughed.

  “For you, probably. For me, never. To paraphrase Elwood P. Dowd, a person can’t have too many friends.”

  “Who the hell is Elwood P. Dowd?”

  “You obviously were not part of the no child left behind emphasis.”

  “Meet me tomorrow,” he said. “I won’t be gunning for you.”

  “Maybe tomorrow. I’ll call you.”

  “My number is restricted,” he said.

  “Aha,” I said. “There’s that knowledge I have again cropping up.” I closed my phone and ended our strange conver
sation.

  My mother always told me to keep them guessing. She was referring of course to boys and dating. It works with greedy psychopaths as well. And hired killers who work for the government. At least that was my plan for this rendezvous.

  28

  My argument with Starnes about my trip back to D.C. alone lasted longer than I would have thought. She was rather adamant that she accompany me. I dissuaded her finally with the reason that she had to stay to be the liaison with Rosey. She acquiesced. Don’t think I convinced her fully. But, finally. The woman was as hard headed as the woman who lived inside my shell.

  Sam was with me so I was not completely alone. At least he would accompany me on the D.C. road trip. Once we arrived in the city, he could stay in Diamond’s expensive truck. Now that my Jeep was no longer part of the real world, I was coveting Diamond’s vehicle.

  I called Rogers.

  “Try to contact Diamond and tell her what I am doing,” I said.

  “I figure that Diamond does not have her mobile phone with her,” she countered.

  “I’m betting she does.”

  “She was apprehended by thugs and barely escaped.”

  “Barely? She shot three men and had enough time to scour whatever place she was being held in search of her phone. Call her.”

  “Don’t you imagine that she is trying to remain hidden?” Rogers asked.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “She’s way-past angry and wants to make a statement. Besides that, she’ll likely be expecting me to contact her.”

  “How would she know that you know she has escaped?”

  “She knows I know. Use your wiles and call her.”

  “Assuming she has her phone.”

  “I’m betting on it.”

  “I’ll put out the bulletin, but you know that she does not always respond.”

  “She’s on hyper-alert. She’ll respond.”

  “And you’re also betting that she’ll come running to meet you.”

  “That, too. Tell her 6:10 p.m., Union Station, two days from now. I’ll be seated in the east corner of B. Smith’s with my back against the wall.”

  “Want to me more precise?” she said.

  “I like the odd-time appointment. It keeps people on their toes.”

  “If you say so.”

  It was close to five when I arrived in Washington the next day. I checked into a motel in Sterling. I bought a couple of barbeque sandwiches and some coffee for supper. I remembered to bring dog food for Sam this time, but I also bought him a plain hamburger to keep him happy. I slept well during the night but got up early the next day. The day of my meeting with Thaddeus. I had to assume it was Thaddeus since he had not identified himself when we had spoken. The truth was that my assumption was not much of an assumption. I was nearly one hundred percent certain that I had been talking to old Thad and that he was the one I would be meeting.