Once a Killer

by Martin Bodenham

  “What do you want?”

  “Move slowly to the back of the house,” Glass Eye said, holding the gun no more than two feet from Michael’s chest. “I don’t want anyone to see this.” He kicked the door closed behind him.

  Michael edged backward along the hallway and into the kitchen.

  “Sit there.” Glass Eye pointed the pistol at the table.

  Michael sat at the table while Glass Eye took a seat on the opposite side, still aiming the weapon at him. The man’s heavy wheezing subsided a few seconds after he sat down.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I know you were there that night.”

  Michael angled his head. “What night?”

  “When Rondell was killed.”

  Did he just say “Rondell”? That was the first time Michael had ever heard any of his people call him anything other than “James Grannis.”

  “I heard he was killed, but I had nothing to do with it, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

  Glass Eye managed a thin smile. “Don’t insult my intelligence. He told me all about the contract you took out on him.”

  “Look, I don’t know what he said to you, but I had nothing to do with his death. The papers said it was some sort of gangland hit.”

  “I know you were going to meet him in Brooklyn the night he died.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “You were there to see him about another deal.”

  “I never got to see him. He said he was going out of town, so we agreed to meet when he returned.”

  “Listen, he told me he was going to Brooklyn to meet with you, so quit the bullshit. He was never going out of town. It was a set-up. He knew what you were up to and wanted somewhere quiet to deal with you.”

  “Deal with me how?”

  “He wanted to tell you how he’d found out about your hit man and why he hadn’t fallen for the BIX story. He knew everything and was just waiting for you to call. He couldn’t wait to see what you’d try next.”

  “That’s not—”

  “What was the plan? Were you going to try another fake story to see if we’d bite?”

  “I know nothing about a hit man. None of this makes sense. All the deals I took him were real enough, and I know you made money off them.”

  “You still deny you were there that night?”

  “I told you; we never got to meet.”

  “I suppose you’re gonna deny working with Caravini, too?”

  Michael started to speak, but Glass Eye waved the gun in the air to shut him up.

  “Rondell and I knew all about your little scheme with the FBI. I wanted to take out one of your family, but he made me settle for the broad from Corton Zander. I wasn’t convinced that was enough, but he said he’d take care of you himself. What went wrong, Michael? Or should I call you Danny? Did he rough you up some? Did you get lucky?”

  Was there any point denying what happened? It was clear the man knew everything. “Are you going to shoot me? Is that why you’re here?”

  Glass Eye shook his head. “You really don’t remember me, do you?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “From Chicago, all those years ago.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve known you since you were a young boy.”

  “I don’t know you.”

  “You should. We lived in the same block.”

  Glass Eye used his left hand to unbutton the top of his shirt. Pulling back his collar, he revealed a fading tattoo of a butterfly spread across his chest.

  Michael flinched. His mouth felt dry, and it took a few seconds to process the information. “You’re Rondell’s uncle.” How had he not recognized him? “I don’t remember your eye.”

  “That was a little gift from Rondell not long after he got out of prison.”

  “What for?”

  “I told him to stop calling me uncle. I wanted him to know I was his father. He lost it, almost killed me.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “So you see, Danny, this is personal.”

  “And you think that gives you the right to kill me?”

  “I’m not going to kill you unless I have to.”

  “What do you want from me, then?”

  “Can’t you guess?”

  Michael sat in silence for a moment until it dawned on him. “You want me to continue feeding you deals.”

  Glass Eye nodded. “That’s right, but the first time I even suspect you giving me false information, one of your daughters will be killed. That seems only fair, since you killed my son, don’t you think?”

  “What about the FBI investigation? There’s no way you can continue when they’re onto you. It’s madness.”

  “Don’t worry about our friend Caravini. We’ve taken care of him.”

  “You’ve killed him?”

  Glass Eye laughed. “No. He’s worth much more to us kept alive.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “We have all the leverage we need over him. Let’s just say he has an eye for the ladies. And that’s not good when you’re married and want to run for mayor. As long as he’s in office, we’ll have no more trouble from him. We have a free run.”

  “Look, it may be some time before I can find another deal for you. The firm moved me off my assignments when they found out there was an FBI investigation involving some of my clients. It won’t be easy this time.”

  “Nice try, Danny, but it won’t wash.”

  “I’m just trying to explain why—”

  “Cut the crap. You remember the file of press cuttings Rondell had? Well, I have that now. And I have a good memory of the events that went down when you two kids did what you did. Do you want me to wait here until Caroline comes home from church so we can have a little chat about the monster she’s married to? Maybe ask Hannah and Emily to sit in, too? I’m sure they’d like to hear about what their father got up to as a child. Oh, the memories…”

  Michael rubbed his front teeth along his bottom lip. “No. I don’t want that to happen.”

  “I didn’t think so somehow.”

  Michael figured he would tell Glass Eye what he wanted to hear; anything to get this animal out of their home before Caroline returned with the girls. “Let me see what I can do about another deal. How do I contact you?”

  Glass Eye threw a card across the table. “That’s my cell. Call me anytime on that number, but make it quick,” he said, rising to his feet. “Our investors are not what you would call patient people. Now that Rondell’s gone, they’re watching us closely to see if we drop the ball. I won’t let that happen.”

  Chapter 62

  FIVE DAYS AND FIVE SLEEPLESS NIGHTS LATER, Michael had exhausted every possible way to wriggle out of Glass Eye’s grip. Going to the authorities was impossible if Rondell’s people now had Caravini on the hook. Caravini would sell him out without hesitating. Then Glass Eye would go after his family. Michael had wondered whether Glass Eye was bluffing about Caravini, but it would be a massive gamble to test it. Besides, it made sense that they had something on him. Why else had he not heard a whisper from the FBI since his last meeting at Federal Plaza? By now, Caravini would have been rattling Michael’s cage, even if he had no evidence to use against him. Doing nothing was not an option, either. Glass Eye wouldn’t hesitate to use the information he had as leverage. Having protected Caroline and the girls from knowing everything while Rondell was alive, Michael was not about to let Glass Eye shatter his family. For a brief moment, he’d even wondered whether he could arrange to have Glass Eye killed, but he wouldn’t know where to start. Besides, after Rondell, he was bound to be the main suspect, and he wouldn’t put it past Glass Eye’s people to extract their revenge on his family. That was too risky. The unpalatable truth was that Michael had no choice but to comply. There really was nowhere else for him to go. He had to find them another deal, then another and another. After a brief pause, the nightmare had started all over and, just as before, it could go on
for years.

  Michael was staring at the mountain of client folders under his office window when the idea struck him. He stood up, walked across the room, and picked up two files. On their spines was printed the word ARUNDEL, which was the project codename given to this particular client assignment. Leafing through the files back at his desk, he made notes on his legal pad, stopping every now and then to check something on the Internet. An hour later, he had three pages of handwriting in front of him—an action plan.

  There was a tap on his door, and Towers put his head around. “I’m heading off now, if that’s okay,” he said.

  “There’s nothing that can’t wait until next week,” Michael said, smiling. “Have a good weekend, Glen.”

  “Thanks. You, too.”

  When Towers closed the door, Michael retrieved Glass Eye’s card from his briefcase and then hit the number on his desk phone. He slid the yellow legal pad into position so he could make sure he didn’t miss anything during the call. As the phone rang at the other end, Michael had an overwhelming sense of calm. This is the right thing to do…No, it’s the only thing to do.

  “Yeah,” said Glass Eye, taking the call.

  “It’s Danny.”

  “Got anything for me yet?” His breathing sounded even heavier on the phone.

  “I think so, but you may be too late.”

  “How’s that?”

  “This one goes live next week so, if you want it, you’ll have to move quickly.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Okay. Do you want to meet tonight to go through it? I’m still in town.”

  “No. Just give me the details on the phone. It’s not as though the Feds will be listening.” Glass Eye laughed at his own joke and then broke into a coughing fit.

  “If you’re sure.”

  “Come on. I haven’t got all night.”

  “As I said, it has a short fuse. The deal closes on Wednesday morning.”

  “We can move quickly if we need to. What do you have?”

  “The target company’s called Caldora.”

  “The social network?”

  “Yes. They’ve been a client of mine since they started six years ago.”

  “I’m impressed. What’s the deal?”

  “They’re about to be bought by a Chinese group. Want me to spell their name?”

  “No. I don’t need it anyway.” There was the sound of a keyboard being tapped. “Caldora was trading at eighteen and a half when the market closed earlier today. And I can see it’s drifted down quite a bit in the last twelve months. What’s the bid price?”

  “Are you sitting down?”

  “I am.”

  “Forty-five bucks a share.”

  There was a pause at the other end of the line. “Fucking hell. Is this for real?”

  “It’s going to be announced on Wednesday morning.”

  “You understand what will happen if this turns out to be wrong?”

  “You made that perfectly clear.”

  “I don’t make idle threats.”

  “Look, the deal’s going ahead next week. It’s up to you whether you acquire the stock or not. I really don’t care.”

  “Anything else I need to know?”

  “No.” Michael flipped through his notes. “I think we’ve covered everything.”

  “You have a peachy weekend.”

  Michael put the phone down then stood up and placed the notes in the shredder in the open-plan area outside his office. The place was quiet. At eight o’clock on a Friday evening, he didn’t expect to see anyone. Tomorrow morning, most of the associates would be back in here, dressed down because it was the weekend, but still putting in another ten to twelve-hour stint. Michael would not be joining them, however. He had other plans. While they didn’t know it yet, he planned to drive his girls up to Quonset Point and catch the fast ferry to Martha’s Vineyard, where he and Caroline had spent their honeymoon. The work piling up in his office would have to wait. He was going to enjoy the weekend with his family.

  Glass Eye spent the rest of the night hitting the phone, briefing his dealers on the Caldora deal. Come Monday morning, he wanted to see a frenzy of buying activity. If the authorities picked up their trades, he’d get Caravini to deal with it. He told his team to go heavy on this one—very heavy. With Prague watching, he didn’t want to give them any excuse to pull the fund away. They’d already questioned whether the team had the expertise now that Rondell was no longer running the show. This was their opportunity to show their paymasters what they were capable of achieving. If they got the Caldora deal right, it would make Rondell look like a poor warm-up act.

  Chapter 63

  THE MARIMBA ALARM TONE WENT OFF at six forty-five Wednesday morning. Without opening her eyes, Caroline moaned and then reached across and hit the snooze button on her iPhone before pulling the quilt around her, leaving just enough of her face exposed so she could breathe.

  “So this is what you get up to after I’ve gone in the mornings?” Michael said, lying on the pillow next to her and looking at her angelic face.

  Caroline jolted and then opened her eyes. “What are you still doing here?”

  “I’m not going into the office today. I have to go to Boston, so I’m taking the car.”

  “How long have you been awake?”

  “Since five thirty. I’ve been watching you sleep ever since.”

  “Did I have my mouth wide open?”

  “No. You looked beautiful.”

  The alarm went off for the second time. “I can’t stay in here any longer.” She began to lift her head off the pillow.

  “You hit the shower first,” he said, watching his wife’s naked body as she stepped out of the bed. “I’ll start breakfast for the girls. I don’t have to be away until eight thirty.”

  By ten to eight, breakfast was finished, and Caroline started pulling the girls’ things together for school.

  “Why don’t you leave that to me?” Michael said when he saw what Caroline was doing. “I can drop them at school.”

  “Are you sure?” Her face was full of incredulity.

  “I’d like to. I’m heading out that way, so it’s no trouble.”

  Caroline grabbed her car keys and headed toward the front door. “See you tonight.”

  “Don’t I get a kiss?” Michael caught up with her in the hallway.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just not used to you being here this time of day.”

  He hugged her and then kissed her on the lips. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she said, turning to leave. “But some of us have unforgiving bosses if we’re late. See you tonight.”

  Michael watched as Caroline climbed into the Prius, waving as she drove away. He returned to the kitchen and smiled at his daughters. “Come on, then, girls. Time for me to take you to school.”

  “Mommy does it this way,” Hannah kept saying as she helped her father work out how to operate the child seats at the back of the Lexus.

  They pulled up in front of the school at eight fifteen. Michael stepped out of the car and hugged each of them before letting them go.

  “See you tonight, Daddy,” they said in unison.

  Sitting in the car, he watched them walk through the gates, hand in hand, turning once only to wave goodbye. When they disappeared into the school building, Michael started the ignition.

  By eight thirty, he was on I-95 heading northeast. The announcement was due at nine, so he turned on the radio and found one of the business channels that he knew would cover it. He tried to imagine Glass Eye sitting in Rondell’s leather chair, playing the big man. He’d be rubbing his hands together right now, thinking of the massive gain he was about to make for himself and his seedy investors. And without Caravini’s team watching them, Glass Eye was bound to have gone heavy into Caldora stock.

  At nine, Michael turned the volume up and pulled into the slow lane so he could hear the details. The report he was waiting for started five minutes l
ater:

  Markets have been rocked in the past few minutes by a surprise profit warning by social networking giant, Caldora. The company blamed an accounting fraud in its European subsidiaries going back over a number of years. The stock has nose-dived and is now trading at three dollars a share, wiping tens of billions of dollars off its market value. There was no one available to comment from the company. Already, some analysts are saying they expect the heavily-indebted company to fail on the back of this huge loss of investor confidence. Also at this hour…

  Michael smiled as he turned the radio off, visualizing the faces of the clowns sitting at their screens on Cedar Street. The massive trading loss on Caldora stock would wipe them out. Glass Eye and his henchmen would then feel the heat from their gangster backers in Eastern Europe. Rondell had always talked with an element of fear in his voice whenever he mentioned his shady investors.

  When he passed exit 8A for Quonset Point, Michael’s thoughts turned to last weekend and the fun they’d all had on Martha’s Vineyard, eating ice cream, collecting crab shells, and playing together on the beach. Caroline had looked as beautiful as the day he first met her. His girls were growing up so quickly, he now regretted the times he’d missed by being so focused on work—times and moments that could never be recaptured.

  Chapter 64

  TWO HOURS LATER, Michael was north of Boston, crossing the state line into New Hampshire for a few miles. Forty-five minutes later, he left the Maine turnpike, taking I-295 toward Portland. As he approached the city, he scanned the outline of the downtown buildings. From the elevated sections of the freeway, he noticed two gray, high-rise structures. The closer he came to them, the more they reminded him of the Chicago projects in which he grew up.

  His mind drifted back to his childhood and the moment he and Rondell were standing in Mr. Jackson’s apartment the day his life changed forever.

  “Help me out here, Danny.” Suddenly, Rondell’s face had lost all of its usual confidence and bravado. As he stared at Mr. Jackson holding the walking stick above his head, Rondell looked like a cornered animal.