by J. A. Marley
“Name it, Ciaran.”
“At some stage, can I get a ride, too? It’s been a while… The west of Ireland is no place for loose women…”
And they both laughed. Danny pointed his little boat north towards home.
23
Wicked Web
“You want to kill him, don’t you?”
“You know the old joke about the pig that saves the farmer and his family from a fire? When asked why the pig has only three legs, the farmer replies, ‘A pig that useful… you only eat him a bit at a time.’ Danny has his uses, but when I’m done with him, I will be done.”
June sat up in the huge bed, reaching for the champagne bottle on the bedside table. She topped up her glass, then did the same for Harkness. The suite at the W Hotel in Miami Beach afforded spectacular views of the Atlantic Ocean. The long beach stretched off into the distance, sun reflecting off the water. It was a perfect day.
Harkness watched. He was enjoying the view of June, rather than the one on the other side of the huge picture windows.
“That has always irritated me. You know the way in the movies, after a sex scene, the actors hold the bedclothes to themselves like their lives depended upon it.”
June clinked her glass to his. “Ludicrous, isn’t it? They have just fucked, after all. I’m glad you like the view, James.”
He leaned forward and kissed her, a long, deep kiss. She was enjoying herself. She suspected Harkness was, too.
“He knows you want to kill him. That is hardly the best way to motivate our ‘Danny boy’ to do his best work.”
“Maybe, maybe not. He wants to return the favour. That’s how I sold the job to him. I told him he might get a swing of the bat at me.”
“And what if I decide to kill you both? We are talking an awful lot of money, after all. I might decide I don’t feel like sharing.” She said it playfully, a twinkle in her eye.
“That will be a second and third murder for you, my dear. Have you got the stomach for all that blood?”
“Second and third?”
“You are going to kill your husband, aren’t you? You want to…”
“Does that shock you?”
“This is me you’re talking to, darling. If I perceive something or someone to be an obstacle…’ He made a slicing motion with his hand across his own throat.
“I did love him. In many ways, I still do. But I have learnt my lessons the hard way. You can only depend on yourself. What he has done with the cartel and their money started out smart, but then became stupid very quickly. I can’t have that level of irrational behaviour in my life. I’m not willing to leave my fate in the hands of a man who would be so arrogant. Jesus may be our guide, but I’m beginning to think that Vincent sees himself as invincible because of it.”
“And you think robbing them is a better way to proceed? A lesser risk.”
June swung her legs out of the bed. Walking naked to the windows, she took in the sun worshippers and the surfers, who looked like they were making the most of the beautiful day. “The damage is done. I’m sure Ines Zedillo knows that Vincent has been skimming. In the chaos of a robbery, I’m confident that I can make my exit stage left. It will be Vincent she wants, anyway. Not me. I’ve never been the fox in the henhouse.”
Harkness joined her at the window, standing behind her. “As long as that exit doesn’t preclude me, sweetheart. I’m not putting this together to see you fuck off over the horizon with the dosh, leaving me to face the Mexicans all on my lonesome. Threatening to kill me and take the cash doesn’t motivate me that much.”
He leant his weight against her, pushing her, naked, against the glass. June caught her breath at the sudden cool sensation, then realised that he was pinning her there. She couldn’t move away easily, even if she wanted to. She slid her hand up to shoulder height on the glass, trying to push back against him, but he just crushed her harder against the window.
Harkness whispered into her ear. “Don’t become an obstacle, June. Don’t ever play silly games with me, or make me second guess your moves.”
He kicked her legs wider apart, taking a handful of her hair to hold her in place, bending his knees, then pushing himself up and against her sex. She struggled, but Harkness just tightened his grip, forcing himself into her.
“You’re playing with big boys now, June. I can make you and your Pharisee husband bend to my will. I have reach, June. I am everywhere… I can snuff you out like blowing out a match. Do you understand?”
Her breathing was coming in halting sobs, struggling to stop him from raping her. Trying to force her limbs to act, fight back, but he felt like a wall of stone against her.
“Tell me you understand, June. Let me hear you say it.”
“You’re hurting me. You’re—”
“Oh, I know I am, love. I’m showing you what happens when you try and weave a wicked web that is meant to trap me as well as the others. Now say it, June. Say you understand…”
He shifted his weight, making her face press harder against the glass, making it rub the window with every thrust he made. At some point, she stopped struggling, realising it was pointless, but also finding a deep resolve inside of her, a single thought that she knew she would never let go of: I will cut off your balls and then kill you, James Harkness. I swear it.
June Cardell was the first to leave the hotel, waiting for a few minutes while the valet brought her car to the front door. Danny noticed she looked uncomfortable. Delicate in her movements, she was constantly adjusting her sunglasses, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. There was a scarf up round her shoulders and head, despite the fine temperature of the day. Danny had not been surprised at her arrival, having earlier followed Harkness to the same spot.
Danny had found Harkness easily enough. Amongst a few other contacts, Danny had put a call in to the mechanics who serviced his boat, asking if anyone had heard of a new British face had been seen around the Keys. His mechanic friends had said no but to check back with them in twenty-four hours. When he did, they had some information for him. A big, ugly looking Brit had rented a houseboat they regularly serviced. They even gave Danny the mooring address. He wanted to follow Harkness, to try and get a clearer picture of what he was up to. He had found the houseboat easily and was delighted when, at around ten the following morning, Harkness had emerged and used a little motorised skiff to come ashore. He then climbed into the black Ford Mustang he and Danny had used the night of the baseball bat fight, and Danny simply followed. He recalled how, back in London, Harkness had been slack about checking he was not being tailed. It seemed the madman had not learned the error of his ways.
It was another forty-five minutes before Harkness exited the W Hotel. It took Danny unawares, as he hadn’t seen the black Mustang being brought to the door for Harkness. From his spot in a public car park right across the street, Danny only caught a glimpse of his target when he came out under the canopy of the hotel and strode purposefully across the road. He was going somewhere on foot.
Follow the money, Danny thought, recalling the line from Magnum Force, Clint Eastwood excelling in the role of the uber-violent, huge gun-toting cop. Waiting a few minutes, Danny slid out of his converted jeep, only stopping to pick up a rucksack off the passenger seat. He crossed to the other side of the road to follow Harkness at a distance. Because he was so big, and ugly, the task of keeping Harkness in view was an easy one.
They were only walking for about ten minutes when they came to a crossroads. Harkness was delayed by the pedestrian light with two runners and an elderly lady with a tiny dog on a leash. Opposite the high hedges, the front entrance to the Delano Hotel beckoned. Danny hung back, standing diagonally opposite his target. When the cars were finally held back by the lights, Harkness crossed and headed straight into the luxury hotel. Danny darted through traffic to the hotel’s side of the street, not quick enough to see Harkness, but Danny was fairly certain his prey had gone inside.
He glanced at his watch. It was almost thre
e in the afternoon. He was convinced that Harkness was meeting someone. The question was, who? He could stick around and watch, but there was no obvious place to sit down and wait it out. He had another idea. Opening his rucksack, he fished out a large SLR type camera and swung the bag back over his shoulder. He then reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a one-hundred-dollar bill. He made his way over to the bellhops who were congregating at the right side of the door.
As he approached, Danny folded the bill, making sure the one hundred was face-up when he slipped it between his index and middle finger. One of the bellhops spotted him and broke away from the group.
“May I help you, sir?”
Danny smiled. Trying his best to look affable, he cleared his throat and spoke in his broadest cockney accent. “All right, mate. Listen, I’m ’ere trying to get a few shots, famous faces, that kind of thing. Any one interesting inside today?” As he said it, Danny raised the money under the young man’s nose.
“We don’t really encourage—”
Danny cut him off. “Come on, mate. I know how this works…”
“If you did, asshole, you wouldn’t be handing me a hundred in full view of the security cameras…” The bellhop was pissed off.
“Take it easy, guvnor. Just trying to get a jump on the game ‘ere.”
“Meet me round the side in fifteen. I’m on a break then… and bring the hundred with you.”
Danny pocketed the money and turned away. He was kicking himself. The bellhop was right, he’d charged in like a teenage boy on a first date. He made his way down the side of the hotel to kill time walking on the beach.
Danny was suspicious. Harkness didn’t make mistakes, but his arrogance did provide him with a few blind spots. And Danny had been thinking this through as though he were Harkness himself. He’d skated from London, managed to track Danny down, somehow avoided immigration and entered the United States. Either at the same time or by pure fluke, June Cardell had then reached out to him. A job. One that had multiple layers of treachery involved. It served up a chance to make some money, take a run at Danny and have some twisted fun along the way.
But what would Harkness do next? Danny thought he knew. He suspected Harkness wouldn’t be playing fair. He would be trying to work angles. And one of the angles he loved the most was to play from the top and bottom of the deck simultaneously.
Beautiful people jogged past him. A few rollerbladers glided by, with older couples strolling their little dogs on leads. All of them enjoying the intense blue of the sky and the gentle sea breeze that was tempering the afternoon sun. In such a pretty place, no one would suspect that he was standing amongst them having ugly thoughts.
When the time was close, Danny headed back towards the hotel. He spotted the young bagman at the side of the building, lighting a cigarette, his tie removed for the ten minutes or so that he was off duty.
“All right, mate?”
The bellhop studied Danny for a second, a look of barely concealed disdain on his face. “You were pretty clumsy back there, man. I get caught talking to a pap and taking a tip, my ass is canned right there and then.”
“I know, I know. I only arrived here a few weeks ago, still trying to get the hang of how this all works…”
The bellhop shook his head and then put out his hand. Danny raised the hundred-dollar bill into the space between them, but as the kid went to take it, Danny withdrew his hand a little.
“Ha… you’re not that green, are you?”
Danny laughed. “Information first, then if it’s worth the tip…”
“Okay. The hotel is fully booked, today and through the weekend. P. Diddy, or whatever he calls himself these days, is here. Penthouse. He’s due to go to some Versace benefit tonight at eight. I know because we have to cordon off the right-hand side door for him and leave space for his limos.”
Danny nodded, pretending to be excited by the name.
“Then, in the private dining room tonight, Dr Steve Simon is hosting a little event.”
“Why do I care about him?”
“You’re fucking kidding me, right?”
Danny shrugged, trying to look eager.
“He’s Miami’s primo plastic surgeon. He’s had his hands all over the most expensive tits, asses and jawlines on the East Coast. As a result, when he throws a party there is always a gaggle of porn stars, Playboy models and pop stars in attendance. His guest-list is kept secret, but it always delivers. That’s a nine pm start.”
This was all so-far-so-what to Danny. No names that could possibly interest Harkness or him.
“What about now?”
“What about now?” the bellhop repeated.
“Is there anyone of real note in the hotel right this second?”
“I told you… P. Diddy…”
“Yeah, but anyone else? Any Miami royalty? Socialites, that kind of thing?”
“Not that I know of. The other penthouse has the property developer lady in.”
“Who is she?”
“She’s Latino… Mexican, I think. Her name is something like Centeno… or something like that. She builds high end hotels and condos.”
“Mexican. Is she legit?”
“Legit? In this town, there’s no such thing as legit. You’re either big money or Johnny No-Stars. But with her, now you mention it, there are a few whispers.”
Danny’s interest was piqued. He was joining dots in his own head before the bellhop completed the picture for him.
“Some say she’s a front. Her investment capital comes from the black market. More specifically, the Mexican black market… But I didn’t tell you that. Those are serious dudes. I wouldn’t mess with them if I were you. Stick to porn stars and rappers… you feel me?”
Danny went to hand the kid the one hundred dollars, but again stopped short. “Her name? What’s her name?”
The bellboy groaned, searching his brain for a second. “It’s… I think it’s Zedillo. Yeah, that’s it. Zedillo. I remember now, I signed for a FedEx for her room yesterday morning.”
He got his cash, Danny clapping him on the shoulder after handing it to him. “Thanks, mate… what days do you work?”
“Depends, I’m in college… so I work round my classes…”
“Okay, I’ll keep an eye out for you. You’re a good man.”
“Yeah, whatever… just a little less obvious next time.”
Danny walked away, returning the camera to his rucksack. His head was spinning. Harkness was playing all the angles. He had to be. Why else would he have left one hotel and June Cardell only to head straight to meet one of Miami’s rich elite? It was too likely to be a coincidence. At least he had a name. Danny could now do a little more due diligence while he tried to figure out exactly what Harkness was up to.
As soon as Harkness entered the cavernous suite, something didn’t feel right. Nothing obvious, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. One of the bodyguards led him into the lounge area. Ines Zedillo sat on one sofa, gesturing for him to sit down opposite her on the other.
“Buenos Dias, Señor Harkness. Please, take a seat.”
As he did so, he noticed the iPad on the seat next to her, lying screen down. As soon as his ass hit the chair, the bodyguard locked his arm around Harkness’s neck, the feel of cold steel at his skin. He didn’t need to see it to recognise the feel of a knife pressing against his carotid artery. He immediately regulated his breathing, relaxed into the hold and waited for Ines to speak. If there was going to be a time to fight back, this was not it.
“Ahora, Harkness. Part of today’s meeting is to show you how we do things. I want you to fully understand how we like to work. Trabaja, trabaja… siempre trabaja.”
She picked up the iPad, typing in a password of sorts, her manicured nails clicking against the screen as she dabbed at it.
“You know how los niños have ‘show and tell’ in school? Hoy, we shall have our own little show and tell. I want to share with you some pictures of people who tr
ied to dictate to us, to tell us how our business should be conducted.”
She flipped the iPad round to face Harkness and show him the file she had opened. The screen was filled with a picture of a man who had been hung upside down. He was naked, his body covered in cuts, some small, some long, deep incisions. The blood had flowed and gathered from them, turning the entire corpse into a dripping scarlet mess. But the most startling detail was that whoever this man had once been, his head was now staring up at his own decapitated torso, eyes open but lifeless.
“And otra vez.” Ines swiped at the picture to show the next.
It took Harkness a moment to realise it was a corpse dumped on a street. Another dead man, this one had something stuffed in his partially open mouth.
“You want to taste your own severed cock in your mouth, Harkness?”
She swiped again and again, a total of twelve images all showing corpses that demonstrated long periods of pain before they finally breathed their last.
“I think you now understand, no? We take business very seriously, and any deviation from our agenda only leads to unfortunate ends. It is also worth knowing that all of the individuals in these pictures also lost close family members. We are nothing, if not thorough.”
Ines nodded, and the bodyguard released Harkness from the grip, making sure to just nick his skin with the knife as he did so. Harkness didn’t even flinch. Calmly, he fished inside his jacket pocket and produced a handkerchief. He held it against the spot of blood from the cut the knife had left behind.
“All very theatrical, Ines. What? Did you watch Scarface over the weekend or something?”
Zedillo just stared back, not showing any reaction to his patronising line. “Harkness, I am going to indulge you. I will allow you to help clear up our little challenge. But you will do so on our terms. They will rob the money from the Christian mission in Miami, yes?”
“Yes.”
“We will allow the robbery to happen. But I will want to know every detail of the plan well in advance. Then, when the meeting is held to distribute the stolen money, we will be your surprise guests. I will allow you to leave, with your percentage, when we know that the Cardells and your master thief are both in our hands.”
