False Ransom (Mike Chance series Book 1)

by Ivan Infante

  “Well that’s fine.” Mike said. “Now tell your buddies to relax. There’s no limit on what you’ll get from the old man.” Mike said. “I’ve been up to see him.”

  “We know.” Gomez looked around the table at his men. Everyone agreed at once without speaking. It was a tangible moment. Mike could feel it. He absorbed it off everyone at the table.

  “You call me here once the place is set.” Gomez said.

  “I’ll call you.” Mike turned and left. He could here the murmurs of plotting before he was out the door.

  Mike jogged across the sidewalk to the Fleetwood. He had an urge to slide into the back seat and treat Benny like a chauffeur. He decided not to crack on his friend. He needed Benny focused. He slid into the front seat next to him.

  “Where to now?” Benny knew the answer.

  “The golf course.” Mike smiled. He finally had a good hand.

  The Country Club was exactly the same as when they had left it. Time didn’t make it much past the ivy-covered gates. Benny stayed in the car again. Mike strolled straight onto the fairway. The whole place was laid out before him like a roll of red carpet. It didn’t take him long to find Tino and his boys. The flashy outfits were easy to spot.

  The big boys spotted Mike before Tino did. He was putting. They made a beeline. When Tino finally looked up, he yelled after them. “Wait, wait, wait. Let him talk.”

  The boys didn’t seem to want to, but relented. Tino walked through them and grabbed Mike by the arm. He led him away from his men.

  “Your boys don’t figure?” Mike asked him.

  “They’re not quite so smart.” Tino answered.

  “Good for them.”

  “You taking care of it.” Tino took out a silver cigarette case. He didn’t offer one to Mike.

  “That depends if there’s cover.”

  “I’ve got cover. I’ve got lots of it.” Tino offered his hand.

  “Fine.” Mike shook it. They had a deal.

  Benny picked up Mike at the edge of the course. This time, Mike got into the back of the limo. Benny didn’t think it was funny.

  The limo headed down to the beach. Before they left Santa Monica for Malibu, they pulled the Fleetwood into the sandy parking lot of a beachside café. Mike got out and went inside.

  The place was ready for business, but no one had told the customers. An idle cook leaned against the bar and polished glasses. In the far corner, a thin pimply young waiter wrapped cutlery in serviettes and stacked them on a long wooden tray.

  “You gotta phone I can use?” Mike asked the cook.

  “Maybe.” The guy smirked.

  Mike didn’t like the answer. He twitched a little. The rage surprised him and he had to clench his fists hard to stay focused. “Can I use it?”

  “Lighten up, buddy. Sure thing. It’s in the corner.” The cook pointed to the phone, turned away and headed back into the kitchen.

  Mike walked to the phone, picked it up and told the operator to connect him to the Sunset Room. Gomez picked up the phone. “Hello.”

  “There’s an old pier about five miles North of Malibu. It’s steep down to the beach there.” Mike cupped his hand over the phone as he talked.

  “I know it.” Gomez said.

  “Be there tonight. Come alone.” Mike hung up. He walked out of the café and got in the front seat of the limo with Benny. They sped back to the beach.

  When Benny and Mike returned to the shack, Sloppy John and the girl were playing dice. Sloppy had already won a few hundred off of her.

  “You gonna tell her about the magnets?” Benny said when he saw the game.

  “I was gonna tell her.” Sloppy sneered.

  “What magnets?” The girl asked.

  Sloppy John picked up the briefcase and showed her the button on the side. She smiled. He turned the briefcase back over, hit the button, and rolled the dice. They came up seven. She clapped her hands together in surprise and batted her eyelashes. Mike could tell she was playing pals with Sloppy and the stupid grifter was falling for it. It didn’t matter. The whole thing was almost over.

  A few hours after sundown, Gomez arrived. He was early. He parked his car on the edge of the cliff above the beach. It was raining intensely and visibility was low. Gomez wasn’t alone. He had three men with him.

  Gomez left the men in the car and went down the steep path to the pier on foot. He had the money in a brown paper packaged tied by twine. It dangled at the end of his left arm. A .38 dangled at the end of his right.

  He arrived on the beach at the bottom of the path and peered into the rain, looking for the shack. He held the package over his head to shield himself from the rain so he could see better and he saw it. He didn’t hesitate before setting out for it.

  After he went more than a few paces, Mike stepped out from behind a boulder that lay up against the cliff. He had a gun in his right hand and an umbrella in his left. “You got the money?” Mike had to yell because of the storm and the crashing of the waves.

  “Put the gun away or I turn and walk.” Gomez stopped in his tracks.

  “You come alone?” Mike dropped the Savage into his pocket.

  “No, I got back up at the top of the cliff.” Gomez started forward once the gun was gone.

  “That’s not part of the deal.” Mike acted concerned.

  “Neither was that gun. But the money is, right?” Gomez showed him the bundle.

  “Sure thing.” Mike pulled the girl out from behind the boulder. She had her hands behind her back.

  Gomez squinted into the rain. At first, he couldn’t tell if it was the right girl. She was smiling. He had to move in closer to be sure. When he was, he threw the bundle at Mike’s feet and reached forward to grab the girls arm. Before he could even touch her, the girl pulled the silver .22 from behind her back and shot him right between the eyes.

  Up on the cliff, the gunmen started to get out of the car. The storm was too loud for them to have heard the shot. They were putting a plan into action. The driver went first and his head exploded before he took a step out of the car.

  The second gunman ducked forward, but he moved too slow. A bullet caught him in the forehead and his brains splattered over the leather seats. The third man made it out and ran. He cut back and forth through the tall grasses. He made it a little more than ten yards before a bullet caught him right between the shoulder blades and took him down. Sloppy John got up from the tall grass where he’d been in a prone firing position. He held his carbine at the ready and crept toward the car in case one of the gunman needed finishing.

  Later that night, the four of them -- Mike, Benny, Sloppy and the girl -- loaded the bodies of Gomez and his men back into their car, drove it to the end of the pier, and rolled it off into the ocean. When it had disappeared below the waves, they got in the Fleetwood and drove back to Los Angeles. They were at the gates of Spinelli’s mansion by the early hours of the morning, sometime after two to be exact. Tino stood at the gate by himself holding two black leather bags. He waved them through. Benny drove up to him and stopped.

  Tino leaned down into Mike’s window. “It’s clear.”

  “Those for me?” Mike motioned at the cases Tino was carrying.

  “One of them.” Tino raised one of the cases to the window.

  Mike took it. “What about the other?”

  “I made my own deal.” With that, Tino stood up. He patted the roof of the car and walked away. He didn’t look back.

  In the car, Mike turned to Benny. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “Amen.” Benny drove up to the front door and parked.

  Mike and the girl got out and went inside. The house was quiet. The lights were out and there were no gunman and no servants. Tino had sent everybody home. The girl led the way. She knew the house and glided through it in the dark. Mike followed close behind her. She had liked the plan when it had been explained to her, but this part had been her idea. Now she was eager and moved with confidence.

  She took
the majestic marble staircase from the foyer up to the second floor. There were little stone statues of naked angels on stands every few feet up the stairs. The eyes on the little bastards had been painted red. Mike didn’t like that when he saw it. It was one of the few times he ever felt his nerves.

  The girl stopped at some enormous wooden double doors that loomed at the top of the stairs. She looked back to see if Mike was still with her. He was, so she opened the doors and went into an antechamber decorated with shiny suits of armor and racks of old swords and axes. As she walked across the room to another set of double doors at the other end of it, she grabbed a small axe from one of the displays. She stopped at the door and checked the axe. It was sharp. She opened the doors and went in. Mike followed.

  They walked into the master bedroom. It was dim. The only light came from the fireplace, but the fire was dying. It was turning to ash. In the middle of the room, Spinelli slept in a large four poster bed with a heavy canopy. At the foot of the bed, there was a small iron cage big enough for a person. The girl shivered when she passed it.

  She reached the old man’s bedside and paused for a moment to stare down at him. She flexed her grip on the axe while she watched him sleep. Her knuckles were white.

  After a deep breathe, she raised the axe high above her head and brought it down hard. She chopped over and over. At one point, the axe got stuck in the bones of his face and she had to twist it free. Blood got everywhere. Mike had to wipe some off his face.

  Eventually, she exhausted herself and her blows lost all force, but she kept going. Mike had to step up and try to pull her away from the bed. She shook him off and mustered enough strength to hit Spinelli one more time. This time, she aimed below the belt and the blade sank deep. She left it where it landed.

  Mike and the girl walked out of the house without saying a word. Outside, the sun was rising and the birds and insects were making a racket. It was a beautiful day. They got in the limo. Benny almost asked a question, but he swallowed it when he saw their faces. He just drove.

  Back at Benny’s, the four of them sat around in the kitchen and counted the money while Lo made them some sort of Chinese noodle. They divided the money up and wrapped it tightly in newspaper: four equal bundles, then the celebrations hit full swing. By the afternoon, they were stone drunk. Benny’s Chinese staff had to work around them as the business in the bar picked up steam throughout the day.

  The girl woke up first. According to Lo, she rummaged around a bit, spent some time in the can and made herself breakfast. Later, when Mike confronted Lo, he wouldn’t admit to having seen a thing.

  After she ate, the girl asked Lo to drive her to the train station. He did. He drove her down there and even saw her off at the platform. According to him, she didn’t wave or look back.

  Back at the bar, Sloppy woke up next. Halfway through his first cup of coffee, he checked his bundle. His money was gone. Sloppy woke up Benny and Mike. They checked their bags. Their money was gone too. Newspapers were wrapped in newspaper in all their bundles.

  Mike spent a lot of time thinking about the girl after that. She really stuck with him. He searched all over the country for her, but she was gone. He even made some dangerous calls back East, but these came up empty. She vanished, but Mike never stopped looking.