by Paul Bishop
"Yes, Captain, my Captain."
"The problem, as my boss sees it, is that I'm dabbling in ordinary everyday crime. Stitching up kidnappers and murderers is all well and good, but if that were all this case was about, I should have left it in the hands of Briggs and Gill. My brief is antiterrorism and I've got to find some way to make all of this apply."
"Are you telling me that Stavoros and Nick admitted to murdering Maddox and to kidnapping me?"
"Not so fast. I've been at this thing all night and I'm still analyzing how it all gets put together." He paused to get his pipe fired up again and to adjust my hold and reposition the tiller before continuing.
"The information about Nick buying up Maddox's gambling markers was on the money. So was the fact that, as quickly as Nick bought him out of debt, Maddox began gambling again with his original bookie. Jackie Casio, the leg-breaker for Max Turner, put me on to the bookie. It turned out to be a guy who owed me a couple of big ones from the days when I was working vice. He told me that Maddox had the fever bad and was losing big on everything from the ponies to cockroach races. The difference this time was that Maddox was keeping up with his bills. Now, whether that money was coming from Caitlin Brisbane or not remains to be seen, but I can't find any other source of income for Maddox that would cover this kind of action."
"Did Nick let you in on why he bought up Maddox's original markers?" I asked testily, trying to jump to the car chase.
"Are you always this cranky in the mornings?" Bekka asked. "Let the man tell it."
"Thank you, ma'am," Ethan said as he adjusted the tiller for me again. "Nick's first story was that Maddox came to him and asked for help, and out of concern for his fellow teammate, he paid off Max Turner's goons in an effort to get Maddox back on the straight and narrow."
"What a guy," Bekka put in. She still had her eyes closed, but it was obvious she was listening intently.
"Yeah." Ethan gave a half laugh. "I told him to pull my other leg since it had bells on, and he got all upset and bent out of shape. However, by the time I finished with him, he admitted that he tried to use the markers to force Maddox out of the starting goalkeeper position."
"How did he find out about Maddox's gambling problem?" I asked, trying to get a handle on all the angles.
"The same way Bekka did. Nick saw Maddox take out the leg-breakers who were sent to rough him up. He went further than Bekka did, though, because he traced the collectors back to their source."
"I take it we were right in assuming Maddox told Nick to pound sand."
Ethan nodded. "Maddox was an old hand at this type of game. When he found out Nick had the markers, he simply took them away by force and destroyed them. He then walked away, leaving Nick out of pocket and hanging in the wind."
I continued to try to anticipate the sequence of events. "And out of revenge and a desire to knock Maddox out of the starting goalkeeper position, Nick pays Archer and the Hardbirds to provide Maddox with a career-shattering injury. Things get out of hand and Maddox ends up dead."
"It works for me," Ethan said. "But Nick says it ain't so. I wrung the boy dry, but he still denies any contact with Archer and company. I could have forced him into admitting he hired Archer....Hell, I could have forced him into admitting he killed JFK, Jimmy Hoffa, and Elvis....The problem with doing that is I deal in truth, and the truth is Nick didn't have anything to do with Maddox getting dead."
"What about Stavoros? He wants Nick as a starting goalkeeper as bad as Nick wants it, but he couldn't justify the move as long as Maddox was part of the team. Maddox was a far superior keeper even if he was on his way over the hill. Stavoros dreams about his boy making the next American World Cup team, and that isn't going to happen if Nick doesn't get the right kind of experience and exposure."
"Again, I agree with you. But there's the rub."
"What do you mean?"
"By the time I got to Stavoros, he had a whole flock of high-priced lawyers throwing around injunctions and other legal paper airplanes. The nasty thing about all that is Stavoros didn't make any phone calls. The lawyers simply showed up like someone had turned on the Bat Signal. Somebody knew Stavoros was in police company and jumped to the rescue. Someone with money. These types of legal boys don't come cheap."
"So, what are you telling us?"
"I'm telling you that Nick and Stavoros are both back on the bricks, and until I can get my hands-on Archer and his crew, or some other kind of evidence, they're going to stay there."
"What about your boss?"
Ethan shrugged. "There's still something going on here that we're not seeing. I've managed to talk my boss into accepting that there still might be something terrorist-related, but I need to come up with firm evidence soon.
"You were talking about a two-handed game yesterday, and I think you're right." Ethan puffed his pipe into a billowing smokestack. "Maddox's murder is only one of the problems surrounding the Ravens and the Acropolis. Somewhere in the rest of the mess, Terranee Brisbane is making big money for the IRA, and somewhere else Liam Donovan is playing out some other kind of action. Caitlin and Nina Brisbane are muddying the waters with their own battles. And Archer and the Hardbirds are making things even more murky. Meanwhile, you're still the big stick I need to stir the pot."
"Thanks, heaps."
"Hey, if you can't take a joke, you shouldn't have joined."
By the time we were alongside the Santa Monica Bay Marina dock again, Ethan had related the lack of success his men or contacts had had in trying to track down Archer and the Hardbirds or anything of consequence regarding Liam Donovan.
"What about searching the Acropolis from top to bottom and trying to locate the Hardbirds' crash pads?" I asked when we were all secured.
Ethan shook his head. "I don't see any way to justify a warrant, and even if we were able to get permission to search the Acropolis, I don't think I could muster the manpower to do it properly. The place is just too big. We might come up with the Hardbirds' crash pad, like you say, but I'm sure they've got that place wired like you wouldn't believe and we'd never catch them inside."
I had to agree with his assessment. "So, we just hang around and wait for the other shoe to fall."
"No. I keep plodding along like a good little policeman, and you keep making as much of a nuisance out of yourself as you can. You're almost as good at that as you are at being a goalkeeper."
"Thanks. I'll get a letter of recommendation from you next time I'm putting a resume together."
"You have a better plan?"
"If I did, you wouldn't hear me bitching about this one so much."
Bekka decided to put her oar in the water. "Don't forget, we've also got a league final to prepare for."
I cocked my head at her with my eyes on Ethan. "Anybody would think she'd beaten the Gulls single-handedly last night."
"Given half a chance, I think she could have done it," was Ethan's reply.
The most interesting thing about that afternoon's practice, beside the new tortures Sticks had designed to put us all through our paces, was an argument in the stands between Nina Brisbane and her father. Terranee Brisbane was coming down hard on her for her decision to remove Stavoros from the head coaching position. He was demanding Stavoros and Nick both be reappointed, but Nina was standing firm.
The whole flare-up was like a bursting firework, in that it exploded fiercely but quickly disappeared as Terranee Brisbane stalked away in a still smoldering huff. If you hadn't been watching, you would have missed the whole gist of the argument and put it down to a father-and-daughter spat.
As it was, I was very intrigued by Terrance's insistence on Stavoros' and Nick's return. Terranee Brisbane certainly had the money to cover lawyers of the type Ethan had described. Terranee Brisbane also had a direct connection to Archer and the Hardbirds. He might not admit to it if confronted, but he was definitely using them as security during his speech at the Golden Harp. Logic from that point ran that if Stavoros or Nick had direct ties to
Terranee Brisbane, they could easily have access to Archer and the Hardbirds through Brisbane. It was the kind of thin thread Ethan was looking for, but I didn't yet know how to unravel it.
After practice, I had arranged to meet with Sir Adam in the Marriott bar. Bekka dropped me off since I'd not yet recovered my Laverda from the hotel parking lot.
"Can I leave you alone for five minutes without you disappearing on me?" she asked, only half kidding.
"I'll try to be good."
"Just don't let me turn around again and have to start looking for your face on the back of milk cartons."
I kissed her and we parted with promises to meet for dinner. There was so much to talk over between us, but so little chance to do it with everything else going on. I watched her drive away until she turned a corner and was out of sight.
Sir Adam was waiting at a corner table. The bar was well lighted and decorated with white wrought iron tables with glass tops, wicker chairs with thick cushions, and pastel drapes and carpet. The drinks all came with fruit skewered on plastic swords, or little paper umbrellas shading the liquid below them. Sir Adam had an umbrella. I ordered a large orange juice and found it came with a savaged slice of the real thing.
Sir Adam took me through the whole of my kidnapping and escape again with infinite attention to detail. When I explained to him how I'd used the plastic container to make a key he nodded his head in approval, but I was also sure he felt I should have thought of the method sooner.
Next, he took me back through everything that had happened since I'd arrived on American soil. When I was done, we went over it again. I didn't mind. I remembered being debriefed in the same way by Sir Adam after returning from undercover assignments in Ireland. It was an excellent way of making sure no stitches were dropped and that all angles had been covered. Sir Adam had an agile mind and I could almost feel the intellectual power emanating from him as he mulled over everything I was telling him.
Eventually, there were three more orange juice glasses lined up in front of me and four discarded umbrellas in front of Sir Adam. I don't know what he'd done with the glasses, but they were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps the waiter was more attentive to Sir Adam's side of the table than mine. I'm sure he could tell which pocket his tip was coming from.
' 'If Terranee Brisbane is acting as a conduit for funds to the IRA, I want to know how. He might think he's a big fish in the pool out here, but I can get people who wouldn't even consider him bait."
"Feeling our oats a bit, are we?"
"I don't like terrorists and I don't like people who support terrorists."
"Your terrorist is somebody else's freedom fighter," I said just to jerk his chain. It worked.
"Poppycock!" Sir Adam's voice suddenly rose to the point that it attracted the attention of several other patrons in the bar. He noticed the reactions and dropped back to a much subtler decibel. "A terrorist by any other name is still a terrorist,"
I held up my arms placatingly and slapped a mischievous smile on my face.
Sir Adam realized I 'd been going after his goat and trailed off with, "Well, yes then." He harrumped. "As I was saying, Brisbane will take the fall if we can find out what's going on, but I'm still as concerned about what is happening with the team, and that means Liam Donovan figures in this somehow."
There was something that had been nagging at the back of my mind for a while. I had first come up with it while sailing with Ethan earlier in the day, but I hadn't wanted to say anything until I'd had a chance to think it out. Sir Adam, though, would be a good guinea pig for the thought since he might have the contacts to follow it up.
"I've been wondering some about Pat Devlin," I said.
"Oh, yes." Sir Adam looked interested. One of his strongest points as a leader was his willingness to listen to any theory, no matter how far out.
I still didn't have it all clear, but I decided to take a stab at it. "We know that Liam Donovan has strong IRA connections. He's splintered off now with the Sons of Erin. If he's connecting with Terranee Brisbane, you can bet it has something to do with money for the cause. It might be a more violent cause now, although a group more violent than the IRA is tough to swallow, but it's still a cause."
"Goon."
"Well, if Brisbane found out through his daughter that I was not only being brought in to play goal, but also to investigate Maddox's murder, perhaps he called in a favor from Donovan and stuck him on me in England because he didn't want me stirring up a hornet's nest here and maybe stumbling onto the source of his funding for the IRA."
"Maybe, but what does that have to do with Pat Devlin?"
"I'm not sure, but Devlin seems to be the other side of the coin, here. He is opposed to Brisbane's politics, as evidenced by his actions at the Golden Harp, but what is the basis for his feelings? As far as I can tell he should be on the side of the devils. He tells me he's a good Catholic boy, so he's not in with the radical Protestant Orangemen. So, what is he? He's a loose cannon on the deck and we need to find out more about him."
Sir Adam shook his head. "Agreed. I'll get someone on it right away. In the meantime, can you trust this Ethan Kelso fellow?"
"Do you mean can I trust him to keep a low profile when it comes to any scandal that may affect the team?"
"Exactly."
I thought about that. "I believe I can. His brief is to keep a low profile in everything he does. I know he isn't looking for any personal publicity, and he's told me his boss has an absolute aversion to it. Between the strings that you can pull and Ethan's own reluctance to step into the spotlight, I think we can keep things pretty quiet. The big problem remains, though, that we still have to uncover what's going on before we can shut it down and cover it up again."
"I have faith in you, my boy."
"I'm glad somebody does."
Another drink had miraculously appeared in Sir Adam's hand. He removed the little umbrella and added it to his collection.
"By the way," he said, toasting me with the glass before taking a sip, "you played a hell of a game last night, but you better be looking behind you because that young filly has got what it takes."
"So much for your faith in me," I said.
Fifteen minutes later, after rehashing the Gulls game and musing about the upcoming final against the New York Lights, Sir Adam and I went our separate ways. I was feeling sleepy again and figured I had time for a couple of hours kip and a shower before I was due to meet Bekka for dinner.
Taking the elevator up to the floor of my suite, I unlocked the door and stepped inside. I called out to Sticks, but there was no answer. He was probably still out taking care of details concerning the team and Sunday's final.
I threw the dead bolt on the room door and secured the burglar bar. I did not want a repeat of my tussle with Archer. One trip downstairs in a laundry basket was all I cared to participate in during this lifetime.
I pulled the rugby shirt I'd borrowed from Ethan over my head and stepped into the bedroom. As I did, I also stepped into the trap of a far deadlier adversary than either Archer or Liam Donovan.
I stopped dead in my tracks. Perched on the edge of my bed was Nina Brisbane. She wore a red lace veil over her head. The bottom of the veil was tucked into the turned-up collar of a white fur coat that flowed down to just below her knees. Her bare legs were tucked back under her on the bed, and she was practically vibrating with a terrifying mix of sexual energy and nervous tension.
Chapter 22
Neither of us said anything for what could only have been seconds but seemed like eons. I stood, bare-chested, in jeans, high-top tennis shoes, and my black eye-patch. I stared at Nina, a lump forming in my throat. I could sense what was coming and could see no easy way out.
Everything about her screamed sexual seduction, but the effect was blunted by a self-esteem destroyed by her years behind the veil. She was like a child desperate for approval.
A braided red silk cord secured the flowing lace around Nina's forehead. She looked attra
ctive and alluring, but I could tell she was on the ragged edge of her emotions. It must have taken every ounce of courage she had to run the risk of rejection by confronting me this way.
"Have you been waiting long?" I asked. It was a stupid thing to say, but I'd never encountered a situation like this before and I was scrambling to find the proper way to respond.
"I knew you would return sooner or later." The smoky throatiness of her voice was even more pronounced than usual. A tremor ran through her and I thought for a moment that she was going to pass out.
"Ahhmm ...I don't know if this is a good idea, Nina. Sticks might come back at any time."
"No, he won't. He is attending a press conference and then he will be handling a coaching meeting. He will not return for several hours."
"Ahhmm..."
Nina stood up and her coat swung open to reveal a clinging red silk sheath underneath. The dress revealed every line of her magnificent body. The physical effort she must have to extend to maintain her shape would put most athletes to shame. Her rounded breasts tapered down to a tiny waist, and her tummy and abdomen were as taut as a trampoline. Her exposed legs were long and slender, her tiny feet painted red on the nails to match her dress. She had the body of a beauty queen, but I knew it was topped by a dried, worm-eaten apple of a face. 1 felt like crying for her.
"Do you like what you see?" she asked, moving closer to me.
"You are incredibly beautiful," I told her truthfully, for at that moment she was. I don't know if I would have verbally responded the same way had her veil been removed. However, the veil was in place and she did look beautiful. I thought of Bekka.
"You are a brave man, Ian Chapel."
"Why do you say that?"
Nina reached out with her right hand and ran a perfectly manicured finger across the surface of my eye patch. "The first day you were here, when you removed my veil, you were the first man to ever attempt to do so for the right reasons." Her other hand was sweeping slowly across my chest, and I felt myself physically responding.
