by Nick Oldham
Before Henry could open his mouth, the man gave himself a push and went over the edge.
Chapter Twenty-three
‘ This is a lovely house,’ Danny commented to Myrna. They were standing in the kitchen. The refrigerator was open and appeared to be crammed full of Hurricane Reef Lager, row upon row of bottles. Danny saw them. ‘Somebody seems to like this.’
‘ Yeah, try one.’ Myrna slid a bottle out, flipped the cap and handed it to Danny. She took a drink.
‘ Gorgeous,’ she said approvingly.
‘ Come on, let’s walk out here.’
Myrna led the way to the terrace at the rear of the house where they sat by the pool. The sun was bright and hot, the sky crystal clear. Danny closed her eyes and tilted her face upwards. ‘Fantastic
… you don’t know how lucky you are.’
‘ Good weather, bad criminals.’
‘ Bad weather, bad criminals,’ Danny rejoined.
Myrna smiled. She let her eyes wander around the pool, dreaming of the moment, not many days before, when Steve Kruger had entered her whilst they balanced precariously in the shallow end, her legs wrapped around him. She blinked away the beginning of a tear. It had been wonderful, intense… made her feel so alive. She sighed.
‘ It is a nice house, belongs to my employer Steve Kruger who is now dead, murdered. I think you know the full story.’
‘ Yes, I got a telephone briefing from Karl Donaldson before I left. He filled me in on everything.’
‘ Why does Tracey wish to speak to you only, Danny?’
‘ Not sure. When the murdered girl went missing all those years before, I interviewed all the friends we could find, but the files I re-read before I came don’t have a Tracey Greenwood as being one of them. So I don’t know why she wants to speak to me. She obviously knows me, but I don’t know her.’ Danny sipped her lager, revelled in the sunshine on her face. ‘If she can come up with what she claims, we have a very good chance of nailing Mr Gilbert — but we’ll have to protect her. The last witness we had against him has ended up dead. Coincidence? I think not.’
‘ I’ve seen Gilbert in action. He was disgusting.’ Myrna shuddered.
‘ And there are possibilities of more stuff from her once she gets talking, I suppose. There’s the American angle, for example. When we get back, Karl Donaldson will be coming up to interview her about what she knows about Bussola — but that’s for the future. My priority now is to get her home in one piece, get a statement from her on the way, and get Gilbert charged with another murder before he walks free. If I’m late returning and he’s out on bail, there’s a good chance we won’t see him again. I don’t want that to happen.’
Myrna looked towards the house.
A bare-footed Tracey plodded out of the French windows towards them.
Danny’s eyes narrowed as she immediately recognised her.
Twenty minutes after discovering Felicity making an illicit phone call, Gus dragged her back to the Miami Beach mansion and paraded her in front of Bussola.
‘ Who were you calling?’ Bussola demanded. ‘Tell me now, or I bust you up again.’
‘ Just a friend, that’s all. A girlfriend — someone to talk to. Women’s things. I’ve been like a prisoner in here. I need to get out, I need some company. Honestly, that’s all. I wouldn’t do anything stupid. Not again, not ever. I’ve learned.’
Bussola was unsure. He looked at Felicity with a deadly glint as he considered what she had said. He spoke to Gus, the bodyguard. ‘You did well, very well. Now fuck off and have the rest of the day off.’
‘ Thanks, boss.’
‘ And as for you, I’ll think about what to do with you.’
He hovered and hesitated before eventually leaving Felicity on her bed.
She held her breath and could not believe how fortunate she had been.
She had another chance.
Better not blow it this time.
Maurice Stanway’s body had to be scraped off the roof with shovels and put into a plastic bag. He had landed head first and his skull was no more, other than a pulp of brain, skin, bone and blood. His shoulders and the upper part of his body had also been crushed to a mush; only his lower abdomen and legs remained intact.
Henry thought it was a good job he had seen Stanway’s face just before he jumped, otherwise there was a good possibility that identification would have been a problem.
What the hell drives a man to this? Henry pondered, as he watched the gruesome task of body recovery take place. Fortunately it wasn’t a job for CID. Suicides were dealt with by uniform. Henry was happy to hand it over to the patrol Sergeant.
Was it anything to do with Charlie Gilbert? Henry thought, then dismissed the idea. Enquiries would probably reveal money troubles, a complex personal life and a myriad of other things, none of which were Charlie Gilbert-related. Henry imagined that working for Gilbert would have been quite lucrative and not something for which you’d chuck yourself off Blackpool Tower.
‘ If you don’t mind,’ Danny said to Myrna, ‘I think it might be worthwhile getting a few things down on paper now. The return flight isn’t until later this evening and I might as well make use of these hours, even though I’d rather be shopping in the city.’
‘ Tell you what, then. You spend, say, a couple of hours doing this. In the meantime, I’ll arrange for another member of my staff to stand in for me and look after Tracey and later this afternoon I’ll drive you into Miami, maybe do some shops, hit a restaurant and then pick Tracey up on the way to the airport. How’s that sound? Tight, I know — but possible.’
‘ Sounds great. It would be a sin not to get a feel of the place, wouldn’t it?’
‘ It certainly would.’
They had been chatting by the French windows whilst Tracey lounged on a chair by the pool.
Danny went over and sat next to her. She had decided not to mince her words. ‘Your name is not Tracey Greenwood, is it?’
Danny knew she was right. The girl in front of her was not called Tracey Greenwood, but Tracey Higgins. She had been a resident at Mowbreak Children’s Home in Blackpool some five years earlier. Danny had reported her Missing from Home on several occasions and she had always returned, until the last time when she reported her missing and she never came back. On that occasion she had gone missing with her best friend, Annie Reece, whose remains had been recently discovered by two frolicking lovers.
Things began to slot slowly into place for Danny.
‘ No, you’re right,’ the girl admitted. ‘My last name isn’t Greenwood, but I am called Tracey.’
‘ Tracey Higgins,’ Danny interjected. ‘I remember. But why the name change?’
She shrugged. ‘Because Charlie Gilbert said it was the only way to get me out of the country. I didn’t have a passport in my real name and Charlie gave me a new one. I was only thirteen at the time, but the date of birth on the passport said I was eighteen. And I looked it. I could get away with that easy if I was dolled up.’
‘ So Charlie obtained a forged passport for you?’ Danny asked, wanting this confirmed in her own mind.
Tracey nodded. ‘And a US work permit, visa, all the immigration crap you need to get into this country. Everything to start a new life.’
Danny almost permitted herself a smile. So it hadn’t been too far-fetched to claim in court that Gilbert could obtain forged travel documents after all. She was relieved.
‘ A new life at the age of thirteen?’
‘ The old one was shit anyway and Charlie promised me loads of things.’
‘ Why?’
‘ Why?’ Tracey snorted. ‘Because I saw him kill Annie and he panicked and this was his way of shutting me up, I reckon.’
The Bussola household was unusually quiet.
Felicity paused on the stairs and looked out across the pool. Her husband was at the poolside, working away at his computer. One bodyguard lounged in the shade, reading a thriller.
Felicity trod quietly d
ownstairs and wandered from room to room, finding no one else around, not even Begin, which was odd. He was usually creeping around somewhere. She went outside and hobbled around the gardens, looking for more bodyguards. All she found was one lonely soul in the gatehouse, playing patience.
Like a bolt of lightning, it suddenly struck her why they were all missing.
They had gone to get the girl, kill her and anyone else who got in their way.
It took time and not a little coaching and coaxing, a lot of patience and a good deal of skill to get Tracey talking. Her story was not much different to the one Danny had heard from Grace and it did not shock Danny to hear it. Nevertheless it expanded the picture of Charlie Gilbert and his lifestyle.
Tracey was a girl local to Blackpool and had ended up in care through the usual series of mishaps, bad parenting and abuse so very common with children in her social sphere. She was put in a home, from which she frequently absconded. Most of her time was spent around the arcades where she met Ollie Spencer and subsequently Charlie Gilbert. She was lured by money, food and drugs and enjoyed every minute of it.
She had only just begun her story properly when the chimes of the front doorbell echoed through the house, interrupting the conversation. Tracey stopped talking and sat back. Myrna, seated at the far end of the pool, out of earshot, pulled a face, but got up and walked through the house to the front door.
She froze when she saw who was standing there. It was Ira Begin, Mario Bussola’s right-hand man. She recognised him immediately.
‘ Mrs Rosza,’ Begin said with a nod. ‘How do you do? My name is-’
‘ I know exactly who you are.’
Begin gave a supercilious smirk. ‘In that case there is no need for introductions.’
‘ What do you want?’
‘ I’d like to talk to you about a mutual acquaintance of ours.’
‘ I don’t think we have one.’ Myrna’s mind raced frantically; panic crept through her being. How the hell did he get to know where I am? she demanded of herself. Myrna started to close the door.
Like a bad door-to-door salesman, Begin jammed his foot behind the threshold, preventing closure. ‘Oh yes we do,’ he said. He reminded Myrna of a slimy reptile. ‘And I suggest you spare some time now to discuss the matter with me.’
They eyed each other, cat and mouse.
‘ Okay,’ Myrna relented, ‘but first let me close the door and come back to you in a couple of minutes.’
‘ Is that a promise?’
‘ It is.’
‘ In that case…’ Begin lifted his foot out of the door.
Myrna closed it, whirled round and ran out to the pool.
‘ What is it?’ Danny asked, seeing Myrna’s worried expression.
‘ Er, nothing to worry about, I hope, but we need to talk. Tracey, will you give us a few minutes? Go upstairs to the bedroom you’ve been using? Danny and I need to discuss something.’
‘ Yeah, sure, whatever.’ She failed to pick up any of Myrna’s tension. She was thinking about her next fix and where it was coming from. She calmly trundled inside the house.
Danny, however, could feel and almost see Myrna’s agitation. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
‘ Look, I don’t know — but Mario Bussola’s right-hand man is on the doorstep. I smell big trouble here. Danny, will you just hang back out of sight? It might be better if he doesn’t know you’re here — unless he knows already, of course.’
The doorbell chimed again.
‘ Time’s up,’ Begin said when Myrna opened the door.
Mark Tapperman was at the scene of a murder. One of a series of drive-by shootings which had sprung up from an inter-gang dispute in downtown Miami. Two gang members had been splattered whilst sitting on the sidewalk terrace of a coffee shop. Problem was, two civilians had also been struck and one had died. Three bodies, blood, guts, overturned tables, chairs, shattered glass and lots of cops.
Tapperman surveyed the carnage. If only the civvy hadn’t bought it, he was thinking. Two gang members gunned down was easy to deal with. They deserved what they got for living like they did. But a civilian down put another angle on it.
Now the cops had to go all out to solve it, otherwise there would be a major outcry.
As if he didn’t have enough on his plate, not least of which was the small matter of hunting down Patrick Orlove, the man responsible for blowing Steve Kruger’s brains out. That was a trail that had gone ice-cold very quickly. Tapperman suspected Orlove had been whisked out of state, possibly out of the country. He despaired of ever laying his hands on the bastard.
Tapperman shook his head, refocused on the three dead bodies and lots of blood.
His mobile chirped.
‘ Is that Lieutenant Tapperman?’ the worried female voice enquired.
‘ Yup.’
‘ I’m Erica from Kruger Investigations. I’m really sorry to bother you, but I thought you might be able to help me.’
‘ I’ll try.’ Tapperman eased a toecap under the shoulder of one of the dead gang members and lifted him slightly to get a look at what remained of the face.
‘ We’ve been trying to get hold of Myrna Rosza for some time, but no one here knows where she is. There’s no reply on her home number, or cell-tel. She hasn’t told us where she can be reached and we need to pass an urgent message to her. I know it’s a long shot, but-’
Tapperman pulled his toe away. ‘I know where she is — at Steve Kruger’s house. But you won’t be able to call there because his phone has been disconnected since he died. If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the message?’
Erica relayed the message she had taken earlier from Felicity Bussola.
‘ Jesus Christ!’ Tapperman gasped. ‘Leave it with me… Harry!’ He called over to another detective. ‘Take over, I gotta go!’
‘ I’ll come straight to the point,’ Ira Begin said. He and Myrna were in the dining room, sat at the table opposite each other. He lifted his briefcase onto the table and took out a plastic wallet. ‘You are presently protecting a witness by the name of Tracey Greenwood?’ It was a statement and question combined. He raised his eyebrows to invite a reply. None came.
Begin shrugged amicably. ‘I know she is here, whether or not you wish to admit it.’
How, you bastard? Myrna’s mind screeched. Who could have told you she was here?
‘ Now you know as well as I do that I could simply walk in here with a show of force and take her away, probably hurting people like yourself in the process. I don’t wish to do that because I like win-win situations, where everybody comes out with some profit. The lawyer in me likes to negotiate, so I have a proposition for you.’
‘ I can’t wait.’
‘ In this wallet I have copies of certain documents that, if they were made public and sent to the right people — the IRS, the FBI, CIA, your customers, even… would destroy Kruger Investigations.’ Begin opened the wallet and shook out a sheaf of papers. He placed them on the table and fanned them out. ‘They relate to a very illegal business transaction in which Kruger Investigations acted as agents to supply certain goods to enemies of the USA.’
‘ Cut to the chase.’
‘ Hand the girl over and I will ensure you receive the originals of these documents within the hour. Then we shall both be happy. You won’t have this hanging over your head like the Sword of Damocles and the girl will not be a thorn in our side.’
‘ And what about her? Where does she stand in this win-win situation?’
‘ She loses.’
‘ And if I don’t agree?’
‘ I’ll take her by force, kill you if necessary, but if I don’t kill you, I’ll ruin Kruger Investigations just for fun.’
‘ Shit, Myrna, answer the godamned phone!’ Tapperman was driving maniacally, steering with one hand, mobile crushed to his ear by his free hand. He swerved dangerously, in and out of traffic, accelerating and braking madly, yelling obscenities at all other road-users.
> ‘ How much time do I have to think?’
Ira Begin made a show of checking his watch. ‘Not long.’
Myrna stood up. ‘Let me have a few minutes. I need to go over this in my head.’
‘ Sure, fine, Mrs Rosza, but don’t do anything rash like call the cops.’
‘ As if.’
She left the room and walked quickly into the kitchen where Danny waited apprehensively.
‘ Where the hell’s my phone?’ Myrna demanded.
‘ Out by the pool, I think.’
She ran out and picked it up off the coffee table and started to dial. Danny was behind her. ‘What’s going on, Myrna?’
‘ Why the hell is this thing not working?’ Myrna looked at the machine and realised the battery was dead. She did a quick exchange for one in her purse. Immediately, she thumbed the power button, the phone rang.
‘ Yes?’ she answered cautiously.
It was Mark Tapperman. Myrna listened as he shouted to her to get the hell out of the house.
‘ It’s too late, Mark. Begin’s already here and by assumption he’s probably got back-up stashed away nearby.’
‘ I’ll try and get a team there myself,’ Tapperman yelled, then, ‘Oh shit!’
There was a loud crash and Myrna held the phone away from her ear. ‘Mark, you okay?’
‘ Yeah, yeah, f’Christ’s sake. I’ve just hit a parked car. You try and get outta there, Myrna. I’ll do my best to get a SWAT team to you, or something.’ He ended the call.
Myrna eyed Danny. ‘Bussola wants Tracey, the easy way or the hard way. I can’t give her to him, Danny. I don’t know what the hell to do.’
‘ You go back and keep Begin talking,’ Danny said, getting her brain into gear. ‘I’ll nip upstairs and get Tracey. Have you got the keys for that car on the drive?’
‘ The Chevy? Yeah — hung up in the kitchen.’
‘ Right — I’ll get Tracey into the van while you talk to Begin. When she’s there I’ll come and get you and we’ll make a run for it. How does that sound?’
