by Lee Lamond
* * *
In the dim light of the coming dawn, Simon approached Madeline, who was recovering from the punch that he had delivered. Badeau and Bertrand stood nearby. Simon took the large folding knife and plunged it through the bright yellow rain jacket, in the direction of Madeline’s heart. The force of the stab pushed Madeline back against the white van. For a split second she was aware of what Simon had done, and she accepted the inevitable. She would not feel any more pain, because she fainted.
Unhappy with the way the blade had entered her body, Simon withdrew it and prepared to thrust again. Suddenly Badeau, who had seen enough, grabbed his arm. Badeau knew Madeline was an innocent and did not deserve to die because a group of old men was chasing a dream for riches.
“She’s a witness. I never leave witnesses!” screamed Simon.
“Bertrand and I are witnesses. Are you going to kill us?”
“My dear Badeau, you are not a witness.—you are now a criminal. I’m sure you can keep your mouth shut.”
Badeau maintained his grip on Simon’s arm, and the two men stared into each other’s eyes in a war of wills.
“Okay, put her in the van, and I will deal with her later,” said Simon.
* * *
From his damp location Austin could hear the doors of a van close, the engine start, and then pull away. He pushed, and the cover moved, but it took most of his strength to move it, and the more he pushed, the more force he put on the single rusted metal bolt that held the ladder. Austin was frustrated and almost panicked, but not for himself. He was panicked for Madeline. He confirmed that his belt was still in place, holding the ladder; the bolt showed no signs of failure.
Austin had to move—he had to get the cover open and get out of the well. He positioned his hand to get the best mechanical advantage and pushed again. He had nothing to lose, and with his second effort the cover moved again, making a small gap. He moved up the ladder and continued pushing. Eventually the opening was big enough for his body, and he wriggled between the top of the well and the cover. Suddenly his foot slipped off the rope ladder, and his legs hung in mid-air. He had to get out of the well now or be caught between the cover and the inside of the well, perhaps forever. His shoe caught a rotten portion of the wooden ring, which gave him a small but fragile foothold. Within seconds he was falling out of the well and onto the pile of rocks that surrounded it. It was still raining, but the sky was getting brighter. Simon was gone, the van was gone and more importantly, Madeline was gone. Austin panicked. Whichever way Simon had gone, he had to catch him.
Austin ran to the car but realized that he did not have the car keys; Madeline had them. When Simon had taken Madeline, he’d taken the keys, or so Austin thought. Then he saw that the trunk was open and the keys were in its lock. If he could get the car started, the race would be on. As he got into the vehicle, he grabbed one of the iron bars he had used to pry open the lock. Simon still had his knife, and Austin needed something to make things even. Starting the car, he put it in reverse to give himself room to turn around and then shifted into first gear to manage the muddy area around the well. Getting stuck was not an option. Heading down the dirt road to the highway, he turned on the headlights to see his way. Suddenly he remembered to go to the left of the tree to avoid the metal spikes, and he scraped the car door on the tree as he passed, removing the side mirror. As he approached the highway he could see muddy tracks turn to the left: they were not going back to Bergamo. He dropped the car into second gear and accelerated in the dawn light, in wild pursuit.
It was one thing to steal the gold, and it was another to steal Madeline. The road south was a country road, and Austin had to make up for lost time. He figured they had perhaps a ten-minute head start, and that was a lot. As he rounded a slight bend, Austin was amazed to see the white van on the side of the road. Two men held umbrellas while a third was trying to change a rear tire in the dawn light. Behind the van was Badeau’s car.
Austin jammed on the brakes and his car slid past the van on the wet gravel. He emerged from his car and opened the rear door. Slowly and deliberately he put on his work gloves and removed the three-foot-long piece of wrought-iron rod he had remembered to bring. He walked toward the three men in the style of a locomotive. Keeping his eyes on the surprised three, he took the rod and stabbed the radiator of the van, causing a burst of hot coolant to spray onto the ground. He did not know what the result of this confrontation might be, but he was making sure that the van would not move. Austin withdrew the metal rod from the radiator as if it were a sword and paused before his first potential victim.
“Hey, it looks like you have more problems than a bad tire,” said Austin. “I think someone just poked a hole in your fuckin’ radiator. You better make sure that gets cleaned up. I also want to apologize for not telling you to go to the left of the tree back at the monastery so that you would not get a hole in your tire, but you left too quickly. Now tell me, you little son of a bitch—where is Madeline?”
Simon stood up and gestured with his knife threateningly. Without speaking Austin took a posture that suggested that he might swing the rod at Simon, but instead he turned the rod quickly and jabbed it into Simon’s stomach. The two-bit crook from Marseille folded like a wet paper bag and fell to his knees. Austin swung the rod like a Louisville Slugger, landing it on Simon’s right arm. Without question, this broke Simon’s arm; he screamed in pain, and his knife flew under the van. Austin, the former linebacker, grabbed Simon by his jacket and slammed him against the van, knocking it off the jack.
“You’re frickin’ dead,” announced Austin. He lifted Simon over his head and tossed him onto the road. Simon screamed in pain; his head and face were bleeding.
“Now, where is Madeline?”
Badeau was quick to speak up. “She is in the van, Monsieur Clay. We tried to protect her.”
Austin opened the rear door of the van and found Madeline lying on the floor, wet and unconscious. He carefully lifted her head, and her eyes opened and stared toward the dawn light. Then she looked up and saw Austin and grabbed his arm in fear. Carefully he picked her up, carried her to his car, and placed her in the front seat.
“That Simon man tried to kill me,” said Madeline, looking at the puncture in her yellow jacket. Austin carefully opened the jacket and found the paperback book she had been reading; the knife had entered at the front cover and proceeded to page 156. With Madeline safely in his car, he returned to the van and caught a smug expression on the face of Andre Bertrand, the art dealer.
Suddenly Bertrand understood that he might be next on Austin’s campaign of revenge. He let out a squeal and tried to run. Austin caught him by his jacket and turned him around.
“I do not like the idea of men hitting girls, but in your case I will make an exception.” With that, Austin punched Bertrand so hard that he broke his cheekbone, and Bertrand fell to the ground with a feminine scream.
Badeau stood by his car, frozen by the events that had taken place in the last few seconds. Austin walked up to him and said, clearly and firmly, “Put the gold into my car, and do it now.”
Badeau moved, powered by near-panic. He opened the back of the van and moved two of the canvas bags at one time to the back of Austin’s car. With Austin’s help, the transfer took only minutes. Austin walked to the back of the van to make sure everything was gone. Simon rose up, looked Austin in the eye, and said, “I will get you and your little slut as well. You don’t know who I know.”
Under the current circumstances this was the worst thing to say. Immediately Austin punched Simon in the face, and he fell to the ground. Taking the metal rod, Austin stood over him and said, “You know, I just do not like people with only one name, and I think you need a last name of your own. Now, I could call you by your real last name of Bassett, or I could give you a new name, like Hurtsalot.” And with that, Austin brought the metal rod down on Simon’s right knee, causing him to scream out in pain.
“Mr. Hurtsalot, if I hit you aga
in, we will only be able to use you for second base. And remember this—if Madeline or I ever see or hear from you again, I will take this rod and shove it up your ass and turn you into a fuckin’ weather vane. And please understand that you are talking with me when I am in a good mood.”
“You are in deep shit, Monsieur Clay! Deep shit!” called out Simon.
Austin was still holding the iron rod. Within two seconds, Simon’s other knee was shattered. Simon screamed again.
Austin knelt down over him placing his knee and much of his 240 pounds on his chest and looked into his eyes. “Now you listen to me, you little shit. I have friends too. Tonight I am going to call some of my friends and put a couple hundred thousand in escrow. The money will be used to hunt you down and kill you if anything happens to anyone I know. I will give special instruction that you should be burnt to death, but I want you burnt slowly with acetylene torches. So if you think that you are some big, tough guy, you don’t know me when I am pissed, and I assure you that you have officially pissed me the fuck off.”
Austin went toward his car, and there stood Madeline and Badeau. Madeline was shaking. This man she knew as a lover had become a monster capable of inflicting harm on people that had crossed him, but in this case she knew he was her hero. Madeline was still trying to understand what was going on, and it was beyond her.
Badeau stood next to Madeline, hoping to make peace and praying that he would not be Austin’s next victim.
“Monsieur Clay, you must understand that this was not my idea,” said Badeau, speaking rapidly in a trembling voice. “I made the unfortunate mistake of trying to make everyone happy, and I am afraid that I have not been successful. Simon was sent to oversee our plans, but I am afraid he had selfish plans of his own, and it quickly got out of control.”
Austin stood in front of Badeau, looking down at the little man, a finger pointing at his face. “Badeau, you are a weak, slimy little man, and I must say that I have never liked you. You started all of the crap, but in the end, you may lose the most. You know, when I get back to Paris, your career at the Louvre is over. I do not understand how you kept your job this long, but trust me when I say that they will not even allow you to clean out your desk. You’re fuckin’ done.”
Austin helped Madeline get back into the car. She was so scared that she could not even cry. Perhaps it was shock, but she did not have the capacity to understand or handle the last few minutes.
With his car loaded with gold, Austin turned it around and headed north, leaving those he had confronted broken.
* * *
Badeau helped both Simon and Andre into his car and promised to get them some medical attention. Down the road was a turnoff from the highway, and a gravel road wandered along a small stream that flowed north into Lake Como. The rain had stopped, and the sunlight in the east was promising a beautiful morning. A man and his two boys who were fishing saw Badeau’s car drive along the road on the other side of the stream and come to a stop.
“Why are we stopping here? I thought we were going to get help,” said Simon.
Badeau opened his door and exited the vehicle. Through the open window he told Andre and Simon that he had something in his trunk that might help their pain. Badeau moved to the rear of his car, opened the trunk, and removed a double-barreled shotgun he kept there, knowing that someday he might need to protect himself. The father fishing with his boys across the stream was watching.
Badeau moved with purpose as he dropped two twelve-gauge shells into the gun and then slowly but deliberately went along the passenger side of the car. He placed the muzzle of the shotgun eight inches behind Simon’s head and pulled the trigger. Simon’s head exploded, its contents collecting on the inside of the car’s windshield.
With the same premeditation, Badeau aimed the gun at Andre Bertrand, who was in the back seat and who was now in complete shock. Bertrand tried to find some location in the back seat to hide, but Badeau’s second shot caught him in the throat, forcing his head back, now attached to his body by a small bundle of muscle and some body fat. With both men dead, Badeau returned to the rear of the car and reloaded with two new shells. He placed the butt of the stock on the ground, placed the muzzle on the bridge of his nose, and managed to pull both triggers at once. The boys and their father were stunned when Badeau’s head was transformed into a bloody pink mist.
Chapter 10
Northern Italy
Austin and Madeline headed north to pick up the highway back to Milan. Madeline had not said a word since Austin showed his bad side, but her shaking had diminished. Just before getting onto the highway, Austin pulled over, reached into his travel bag, and pulled a bottle of wine and a glass. He filled the glass and handed it to Madeline, who accepted it without comment. Within a few minutes the wine in her glass was gone, and he quickly refilled it. Austin had a problem. He had a car with a few hundred pounds of gold and no plan. Madeline turned her head and looked at him almost as if he were a stranger, and Austin could feel her stare.
“Austin, you scared me this morning. I am not sure if I even know you. I don’t like violence, and Austin, that was all that you were. You almost killed that man Simon, and that man Andre had his face punched in. You could have been arrested for what you did.”
Austin just sat there and let Madeline talk.
“There is something else that is bothering me. Austin, you seem like you are playing a game. I think you play games with everything that you do, and I pray that you are not playing a game with me. You were playing a game with your dead wife’s project back at the Louvre, and you were playing a game with finding the gold. You don’t understand that you do not have the day-to-day issues in your life that keep many people responsible and under control. Most people are trying to pay the rent, and all you have to do is win your next game. I am not playing games, and I don’t play games where people are hurt!” At this point Madeline was screaming and pounding her hand on the dashboard of the car. Her clothes were still wet and covered with mud, and there was dirt and blood in her hair.
Austin continued to allow Madeline to vent.
“Here I sit in a car with you and bags of gold, and I am waiting for someone to come along and cut our throats. You don’t have a plan, and if we get stopped by the police, we’ll go to jail.”
Austin remained quiet, and Madeline poured more wine.
“Austin, I wanted us to go away together and just relax, and now you have made me into a wreck. I wanted to be your ally, and I actually wanted more, but you scare me, and now I don’t know what I want.”
Austin waited for Madeline to quiet down and then stated his side, hoping he had one that made sense.
“Madeline, those men deserved everything that came their way. Simon was a gangster who tried to kill you. He was a minor gangster, but still a gangster, who worked for some guy in Marseille. If I believe your boss, Badeau, Simon was even double-crossing his boss and acting on his own behalf, and he was a threat to both of us, and things could have been a lot worse. If you believe Bertrand, he was trying to save Badeau from the mob, but I think he was behind much of the shady crap that Badeau was up to. But everything they may have done means nothing when I compare it to the fact that they slapped you around, and if it were not for the book in your pocket, Simon would have killed you. If I didn’t care, we would have just left and let them have the gold. Forgive me if I got a little pissed off, but I did not start it—they did. My confrontation with these clowns had everything to do with you, and whatever minor beating they got, they deserved. Your friend Badeau was an amateur and clumsy. He deserves whatever he gets, because he was operating on the edge of honesty, and the Louvre should have fired his ass long ago. The gold was a separate topic, but there was no way I was going to allow them to benefit in any way. I will be the first to say that this was a game to me. The gold represents a lot of money, but to be honest, I probably can’t spend what I have, so what is another ten million? Perhaps I do look at it as points on a scoreboard. Points hav
e value at the time you win them, but soon they are meaningless. If the gold means anything to anyone, I would love to see that you are taken care of with some real money in the bank. It’s getting late, and I am exhausted. To be honest, I can’t talk any more, and I don’t know what else to say. I respect what you said, and the problem is more complicated than we know at this time. I am going to find us a place to stay, and you can get cleaned up and get caught up on your rest. We can continue this later.”
“Are you going to leave the gold in the car?”
“I will have to find a motel where I can pull the car up near the room, and I’ll move the bags into the room. It should work.”
Austin got back on the road, and at the next exit he found the type of accommodations that would work. Madeline insisted that they get two rooms. It was a good idea. Perhaps a break was in order, and it would give Austin a chance to get on the phone. Austin and Madeline were exhausted. Austin wiped his face on a towel to get most of the mud off before checking into a motel that might not rate one star. The clerk did not seem disturbed by Austin’s appearance and gave him two keys. With Madeline settled in, Austin stripped down to his underwear and fell asleep. It was about ten in the morning.
