Trifecta

by Pam Richter

  "The negatives?"

  Hashimoto glanced to the right and left. He saw no help from the large men assigned to guard him. The woman towering over him appeared unbelievably ferocious.

  "A safety deposit box in the lobby."

  "The key?"

  "The desk by the bed."

  CHAPTER 29

  Ivar and Malcolm had taken up position in the lobby of the Century Plaza Hotel. Ivar was in a chair next to the elevators; Malcolm standing near the entrance. People were swarming the lobby as there was a Republican Party lecture and luncheon in one of the banquet rooms on the ground level.

  Either Eve or Sabrina came out of the elevator alone after they had waited about forty minutes. Ivar shook his head at Malcolm, so he wouldn't move from his position. The two women had come to the hotel separately, and could conceivably leave separately, but from what he had seen, Ivar was sure there had been some coercion to get them there.

  As Ivar watched there was something about the way the woman held her head, her sureness of purpose and physical grace that convinced him it was Eve. He knew when she grinned at him and then gave a very obvious wink. He glanced at Malcolm, who was also watching, but decided that he couldn't have seen from his position across the lobby with all the people blocking his view. It was a typical Hollywood bash, everyone's kisses brushing air near the person fondly greeted, with perfect make-up and coiffures the priority over false sentimentality.

  Ivar watched Eve talk to one of the hotel's front desk personnel, and then she was allowed behind the desk area and disappeared through a door.

  Ivar was uneasy because he had been instructed to pick up both Eve and Sabrina as soon as they left the hotel. He would be the one to flash his badge and advise them to come along. Eve might lose all trust in him. She might hate him forever. But Burgess Whitcomb would eventually bring them in. When it happened he wanted to be there.

  The front desk woman led Eve down a corridor of offices. They stopped at a white telephone and the woman told Eve that they had to call the room and make sure it was Mr. Hashimoto's intention to let her procure documents from his safe. There was no answer from the room when the woman called. She tried again with the same result.

  Eve told the desk clerk to call the room, ring one time, then hang up and call again. She hoped Sabrina would recognize her signal.

  The clerk was very nice, but Eve could see she was getting suspicious. The phone rang about six times and then, finally, was answered.

  The clerk asked to speak to Mr. Hashimoto. There was a long pause and then he was on the phone, telling the woman to let Ms. Miller take an envelope from the safe.

  Eve was led into a small room with a bare table and chair. One entire wall was lined with wall safes. The clerk left the room. Eve kept glancing at the door, which had a window in it, but no one was watching. She found the right box, opened it, and laid it on the table. Inside, she found an envelope with the incriminating negatives and put it in her purse. Then she quickly flipped through the rest of the documents. She memorized everything.

  There was quite a bit of money in one canvas package she ripped open with her teeth. She figured the contents was worth about seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars, when she fanned through the piles, with a ten percent error either way.

  She found the CIA files. There was information about Sabrina's dental records, the blood typing and the handcuffs taken as evidence. She folded it and put it in her purse.

  The front desk clerk was watching to make sure Eve went up on the elevators, back to Hashimoto's room. As she waited for the elevator, Eve backed up until was standing directly behind Ivar's chair. Eve took the envelope of negatives and the CIA document out of her purse. She slipped both down the back of Ivar's chair.

  Then she said very softly, "Ivar, I've dropped some pictures and documents in your chair. Please destroy them."

  She turned around, as if to scan the lobby, and saw the back of his head nod. He rattled the newspaper, shaking it to fold to a new page, holding it so that it covered his mouth. Then she heard him say, "No matter what happens, remember that the agent who shot Stephan Steinbrenner was bitten by a large, tan boxer dog."

  "All right, Ivar," Eve whispered, smiling.

  She walked to the elevator that was just opening up.

  * * * * *

  Sabrina had been left alone in the hotel room with five bodyguards, Hashimoto, and the gun. She had never felt so silly in her life. She had no idea how to use the thing and thought that there was usually some kind of safety that had to be removed before it could be fired, but was afraid to study the evil, slick looking weapon for fear that the men would notice that she did not know exactly what to do with it. Something had to be cocked, or pushed up, or arranged so that it could fire, and although she had no intention of doing so, she wished she could at least look professional while handling the nasty thing. The situation was ludicrous.

  "You know, if you shoot that gun, the bullet would go right through me. It would also go through the wall and might kill someone in the next room. You're holding a lot of fire power."

  Sabrina believed Hashimoto, remembering the mess this very gun had made of Stephan Steinbrenner's shoulder, and her own terror when the Russian spy who shot him held it against her own ribs.

  "I know," Sabrina said, hoping she sounded confident. "So let's make sure I don't have to use it."

  "Why don't you put the gun down. It's making me nervous, pointed as it is."

  Sabrina felt like a fake gangster. She hoped Eve wouldn't be long getting the negatives. Especially since the gun was so darned heavy. She tried to keep the tip from wobbling, but her arm was getting tired. To keep them from noticing she said, "Mr. Hashimoto, would you please go and sit down against the wall, across the room from me? Maybe all you other men could also sit down with him."

  Kokuro got up to go with the others. Sabrina almost stopped him, but decided to let him go, too. She did not wish to show favoritism, but what if a rib had punctured his lung or something? He seemed all right, but he was stoic by nature wouldn't show pain unless he was terminal.

  Sabrina leaned forward and rested her elbow against her knee. She felt her tension relax a bit as the men all seemed to settle down. They were docile enough, but they were talking among themselves very quietly in Japanese, and she just knew they would all jump up suddenly and make a run at her.

  The telephone's ring made her jump. Hashimoto stood up to answer it. It looked like an automatic reflex, but she jumped up, holding the gun straight out in front of her and said, "Hold it right there."

  Hold it right there? I not only feel stupid, I'm talking like B-picture gun moll.

  Hashimoto sighed and sat down with little dignity, acting reluctantly resigned for the time being.

  The phone rang for a long time and finally stopped.

  Then someone knocked on the door, but she could tell it wasn't Eve, who always used three knocks. A key was opening the door.

  Horrified, Sabrina ran and looked out. She managed to hide the gun behind her and told the maid pushing a rolling cart full of sheets and towels that they wouldn't need room service today. She thought the maid smirked, and felt slimy with innuendo. She restrained an urge to slam the door.

  The telephone rang again and seemed to go on forever until it stopped, shrilly, mid ring.

  The men against the wall were still talking quietly among themselves.

  The phone rang once and stopped. It started again. 'One ring, then call again.' It was Eve. She ran for it. She kept her gun on the men, telling them not to move a muscle, feeling like she was in some kind of hallucination.

  The person on the telephone said she had to ask Mr. Hashimoto if Ms. Miller could procure documents from his safe. Good, Eve would get the pictures and relieve her of the pressure of holding six men against the wall with a lethal weapon.

  Sabrina explained the situation to Hashimoto, saying she would shoot him in the gut if he tried anything.

  Sabrina placed the rece
iver on the little telephone table and backed up, so she could cover him. He did just as she asked and then went back to his place against the wall.

  Sabrina kept glancing at her watch. The minute hand was definitely stuck because it never seemed to move. Finally Sabrina heard three knocks and got up to answer the door. Three knocks, one ring, and pretty soon a secret handshake. She was getting hysterical.

  Sabrina opened the door, but it wasn't Eve, it was Hashimoto's staff of three, who didn't notice that she quickly moved a gun behind her back. They were all busy bowing. Sabrina quickly pulled the door almost shut to hide the men lined up against the wall. She told them that Hashimoto wanted them to come back in one hour, please. They were still discussing contracts she tried to explain, but they all smiled and said, Ah yes, nodding knowingly at each other. There was more bowing and the little Japanese men smirked too. They left Sabrina feeling more indecent with unsubtle insinuations. First a maid and then a bunch of little, educated, dirty minded Japanese twerps. She wondered if Hashimoto routinely kept his staff waiting while occupying his time with loose women.

  Sabrina sat down again to wait for Eve. She must have found the pictures by now. It was only a matter of a few more minutes. Sabrina wondered what Mark was doing and what he would think of her sitting here with a gun, holding six men against the wall and threatening to shoot. She also wondered if he was miserable and suddenly, fiercely, hoped he was. She knew that if you're in love with someone you shouldn't hope that they are miserable, but she did. She wanted him to suffer, and damned with wanting the person you loved to be happy without you. She wanted to be the pain that would never leave; the sun that never shone on him again; the thirst that never quit, and the hunger that never ended.

  Her thoughts sounded like a bad country song, but she put it down to lack of sleep.

  She was so sad she could hardly believe she was actually living through it, almost surprised that the sadness hadn't killed her off as she lay in her bed last night. She thought that maybe she was a little weird today because of the sleepless night. She also thought that anyone who wished their loved one happiness after they were gone was brainwashed with somebody's silly saccharine notion of goody-goodness.

  Not that she wanted Mark to be miserable forever, but a few years, at least, would be a rational length of time. On the other hand, men didn't get all that miserable, did they? They just went out and found someone else. It was awfully depressing.

  With her thoughts thus diverted, Sabrina didn't notice that Kokuro was painfully and slowly getting up. He did though, and took a few steps toward her. Then he seemed to reluctantly sink back down. Two of the men helped ease him back again. He leaned against the wall.

  A few of the men muttered to themselves and then another of the Hulks got up. Holding his arms out from his sides, palms toward her, positioned as if to say he would not harm her, the man started moving toward her.

  "Wait, now," Sabrina said. "Don't come any closer. Doesn't he understand English? Mr. Hashimoto, tell him to stop."

  The man kept walking toward Sabrina. She stood up and motioned him back with her gun. She pointed at the wall, but he kept coming. Then Sabrina knew. This was the Kamikaze. He was the sacrifice to see if she would really pull the trigger.

  Sabrina aimed the gun at Hashimoto. "Tell him to stop or I will shoot you, Mr. Hashimoto. Not him. You."

  Hashimoto said something that sounded harsh and the man stopped moving, but the men against the wall all shifted, so that Sabrina could not get a clear shot at Hashimoto. Then the big Hulk started slowly moving toward her again.

  Sabrina looked around wildly for a place to go. Hashimoto was a despicably fine general. Kokuro was hurt and he rightfully believed that she would never shoot him, so Kokuro had been the logical person to disarm her. Then Hashimoto had to use someone else when Kokuro was unable to be the sacrifice.

  Sabrina looked for a place where she could be safe from the gigantic man moving slowly toward her. He didn't look mean, but he came forward implacably. Sabrina could not read his face. He really was inscrutable. He didn't look threatening, determined or afraid that she would kill him. He just slowly kept coming.

  Sabrina could not back up except to go into the bedroom. She couldn't give up the gun and she looked around the bedroom as she slowly inched her way back into it. She couldn't hide under the bed, so she did the only logical thing she could think of. She retreated ignominiously into the bathroom. Then she slammed and locked it in the advancing Hulk's face.

  Sabrina sat down on the toilet cover and noticed that her hands were shaking uncontrollably. The gun was slippery from perspiration in her grip. She washed her hands and wiped off the gun barrel. Then she sat down on the toilet to wait for Eve.

  Suddenly there was music. It was very loud and energetic sounding, like a dance band. It went on and on and Sabrina checked her watch. She must have missed the three knocks. Eve had been gone at least twenty minutes. She must be here by now. Sabrina unlocked the door. It would not open. Sabrina pushed, but the door seemed to be stuck. She turned the knob, but the problem was not the lock or a stuck doorknob. They must have placed a chair under the knob outside. Or else one of the Hulks was leaning against it. Sabrina called out for them to let her out and pushed with all her weight, but it was unmovable. She looked around the small space. There was no way out of the room except that door.

  Sabrina knocked again. When no one answered she finally started pounding. She stepped back for another assault and then stopped. This was crazy. She was shaking again and starting to panic. Small spaces had never bothered her before. She should check out the gun. Figure out how to shoot it and then shoot the door. It would just be too bad if someone was standing on the other side. Serve them right for locking her in.

  Sabrina spread out a towel and placed the gun on it. She started sliding different parts. Everything would be fine as long as she didn't touch the trigger and kept the hole where the bullet came out pointed away from herself. A part came sliding out and several bullets fell out and bounced on the tile floor. She retrieved them and slipped them back into place. Now she knew how to unload.

  She wouldn't really know if she undid the safety unless she pulled the trigger. If she needed to attract attention she could just unscrew the silencer. She was sure a gun shot within the hotel would bring help quickly.

  Assuming that the safety was off, she aimed at the corner of the bathroom wall, cringing and squinting. The trigger was surprisingly stiff and hard to move. Finally she pulled it all the way and heard it click.

  Nothing happened.

  CHAPTER 30

  Ivar managed to squirm around until he had hold of an envelope and a large document, both of which he slid inside the folded newspaper. He went over to Malcolm and said he was going to use the men's room for a minute.

  Ivar walked down a long corridor off the lobby. When he was out of sight he sprinted. The bathroom was expensively decorated like the rest of the hotel with gold plated fixtures and lights, but most importantly, two enclosed stalls for privacy. Ivar went inside one, put the newspaper on the floor and sat balanced on the thin edge of the toilet seat. He opened the envelope and took out a roll of film. It was hard to see the tiny brown tinted negatives in the dim light of the enclosed space, but he made out many pictures of Eve and Sabrina. He also saw pictures of the Steinbrenner brothers, even a picture of himself.

  When Ivar unfolded the document Eve had given him he was stunned. She knew he was following her, part of the ongoing investigation. Still, she had handed him all the CIA documents. He was blown away. The documents contained the same information he had destroyed in the shredder two nights ago at Whitcomb's office.

  He took out his knife and started hacking up the tough negatives, which he flushed down the toilet. The document was large and thick and he ripped it up into smaller pieces. It was still too large to flush. He took out a book of matches and started methodically burning bunches of pages, dropping them in the toilet. He was working as quickly
as he could, and only noticed the smoke detector above his head when it gave out a squawk and started pelting him with water.

  Ivar moved out of the deluge and worked even faster, knowing maintenance people would come to check the alarm. In his haste he burned his hands a few times. He had just finished when he heard two men stomp in. Ivar flushed for the last time and walked out with his newspaper.

  Two Latin types in blue hotel maintenance uniforms eyed him with contempt. "Hey man. Can't you read?" one of them asked, pointing at the No Smoking sign.

  "Sorry." He left, stepping over the puddle that was rapidly flooding the tile floor.

  After Ivar's departure one of the men peered in the hazy toilet stall, inhaled strange fumes, coughed, and said, "What the hell was that guy smoking?"

  * * * * *

  Even before Eve got off the elevator she heard loud music. Then she realized it was coming from Hashimoto's suite. Something was wrong. She eased herself forward and quietly stood in front of the door. She heard a muffled pounding.

  Eve raced to the end of the hall and started sprinting down the stairs. The elevator would be too slow. It took only a minute to reach the lobby. She hurried over to the desk clerk who had let her into Hashimoto's safe, just minutes ago. She explained that Hashimoto would fire her if she didn't get an important document she had forgotten. Eve guessed she looked very upset because the woman led her straight back to the room with the safes. Eve took a large torn canvas bag out of the safe. For extra protection she also took two sensitive documents that she had previously scanned.

  Eve thanked the woman and then hurried to a courtesy phone in the lobby. She asked for the hotel doctor. She said that there was an emergency in Mr. Hashimoto's penthouse suite. She raced up the stairs again.

  Eve was too concerned about Sabrina to wait for the doctor. The music was still obtrusive in the elegant surroundings of the plush hallway, so Eve knocked sharply. One of the Hulks poked his head out. He opened the door.