by Tom Benson
A short while after seeing the mooring being cordoned off by police, Honey went over the back route to exit her vantage point. As she walked casually to where she had left her car, she heard the ambulance siren wailing once again as the medical team raced towards the nearest facility to save Morgan’s life. Honey hoped that he would survive.
*
She drove south from the lakeside and used the parking lot outside the diner because she didn’t want to associate the car with the motel room. When she walked along the line of other vehicles, she thought she recognized one of them. When she looked at the cars parked near the motel rooms, she smiled. The red pickup Honey had noticed belonged to Bert. He had parked outside the diner, rather than the motel. He was cautious as ever.
As she enjoyed coffee, she sent a text message to Maria in New York.
‘MAIL THE JRNL. H’
It was getting close to 1:30pm as Honey finished coffee and considered ordering lunch. Today was going to be another day of travel and preparation, so she thought it might be an idea to rouse Bert from his slumber. She hit the keys on her cell.
“Hi,” she said when there was a response. “I’m in the diner and about to order lunch. When you come over, would you bring my hold-all, it’s good to go?”
“Sure,” Bert said, both to his cell and in person. Even as he replied, the canvas hold-all fell onto one of the seats at Honey’s table. She looked up from the menu at a grinning PI as he slipped his cell away and sat down facing her.
Honey said, “Have you had enough rest?”
“More than usual,” he said, “thanks to you. Now I’m ready to eat again.” He picked up a menu, and as he read it, he spoke casually. “Did everything go according to plan?”
“Yes,” she said, glancing up. “I think he got the point.” She looked back at the menu. “I think we’ll enjoy lunch before you take me back over the information on my other task.”
“You’ve got it,” Bert said as he stood the menu in a small wooden holder. He marveled at how calm his companion was, and not for the first time he wished he was her age group, and her type. He looked up and returned the waitress’s smile before he ordered.
“So,” Bert said with a smirk, looking at Honey’s left cheekbone, “was that a lucky first strike?”
“It was lucky for one of us,” she said, “but unlucky for the other.”
“How did he get that close?”
“A damn speedboat went past, and we both stumbled, but he recovered more quickly than me.” She touched her face gently with the fingertips of her left hand and glanced out of the window. “It will take him a longer time to recover from the condition I left him in.”
“You didn’t terminate him?”
“Killing would have been too good for him,” she said. “I decided on something more appropriate.”
Bert winced. His imagination was working overtime since he knew that Morgan was a big man and a woman in front of him had survived with little more than a bruise.
While they waited for their meals, the strange pair made idle conversation about the beauty of the area, and how it would make a pleasant retreat and escape from the city. When the food arrived, they ate in silence, both concentrating on their individual thoughts.
“Coffee?” Bert asked, and then he waved to the waitress when Honey nodded.
The volume of the television was turned up and the pair both joined the other customers in the diner to look at the screen. A pretty, dark-haired reporter appeared.
“This is Caroline Connelly reporting for ISITV. Early this morning our studio received a piece of information that the police are not prepared to confirm. We’ve been reporting on the possible connection between a series of murders and disappearances over the last few days. We now have a new mystery to solve.” The reporter’s eyes seemed to sparkle as she continued.
“This is a picture of a missing woman.” The reporter shared the screen with a clear, official photograph of a female police detective. The officer had dark hair that hung below her shoulders in long natural ringlets. Miss Connelly paused for effect.
“She is Detective Investigator Kimberley Forest of the NYPD. Her teenage sister Harriet was one of the victims discovered in the house-fire in Pinewood near Greensburg just over a week ago. As reported earlier, a post-mortem had shown that Harriet was dead before the fire took hold. The identity of the second woman’s body found at the scene is not known, but it is not the body of the missing detective.” She paused and gazed into the lens.
“Captain John Kelly of the NYPD has refused to comment on the whereabouts of DI Forest. His silence alludes to the officer working undercover and therefore it would endanger her life. My opinion viewers – is that he is evasive, because he doesn’t like transparency in police matters. We believe there is a female vigilante on the loose. Where is DI Forest?”
Bert said, “Now that missing police officer was a piece of information that did not leak from me.” He turned to meet Honey’s gaze for only a moment before he continued. “I don’t even know that guy Kelly, but he sounds like the sort of boss you want on your side when you’re in a fix.”
“I’d have to agree with you Bert,” Honey said. “I imagine he is.”
Bert turned to look into her eyes with the ghost of a smile, pleased that his earlier guess had been right. The blonde hair and the application of cosmetics were just enough of a disguise, he thought. He lifted his coffee and took a long pull before he spoke.
“Let’s forget what DI Forest is up to. We’ll concentrate on what you want to do.”
She had searched his expression for a moment before she responded. Honey felt that Bert had already assessed the situation, but he was kind enough to leave his suspicions unspoken.
“This next guy I’m looking for,” Honey said, “you said he could be troublesome.”
“He could be,” Bert said, “but you could still get to him with the right plan.”
“I’m listening.”
Bert went back over the information he had. He confirmed that the man in the Wanted poster was now going by the name of Gary Strickland. Bert suggested that it might not be the best policy to erase Strickland immediately. He said that in his experience, men like that sometimes held a sort of insurance policy against being taken.
Honey said, “What do you think we’re dealing with?”
“He’s managed to leave a strong scent in two different places, so he’s devious. It could be that he will trace anybody from his past. He can check out their life for weaknesses.” Bert paused before continuing.
“If, for example, he had ever worked with someone, or knew that someone might be involved in criminal activity, he would keep an eye on them. The theory being, that if he ever became compromised, he could offer up information on other people to cut himself a deal with the D.A.’s office.”
Honey said, “If he got erased though, surely that would negate the need to worry about any sort of surveillance he’d managed to maintain on people?”
“That would be true,” Bert said, “but imagine if somewhere in his murky past he’s made an unholy alliance with somebody, like a mutual insurance policy. Let’s say they both have a file, or a list that they hold on behalf of the other.” He could see Honey was catching on, and she nodded.
She said, “The classic kidnap team scenario?”
“Yes,” Bert said. “They keep in touch on a regular basis and they have a failsafe. If one is taken out by somebody and they don’t make the regular call, then the surviving partner takes the hostage or some unsuspecting victims down.”
“The way you’re talking gives me the impression that you have a plan.”
Bert smiled. “Would you like to hear it?”
Honey nodded. There was much more to this man than met the eye.
Bert outlined his plan, stopping occasionally to answer questions as they came. It took around 20 minutes to explain what he had in mind. Honey suggested amendments, and while they discussed the idea, neither of them made a
ny notes on paper. A key aspect of the whole plan was that they would remember everything, including the back-up strategy if needed.
Honey sipped the last of her coffee and looked at Bert as she put down the cup. His eyes held a steady intensity that she had seldom seen, apart from in the mirror. As much as she didn’t want to work in a partnership, his plan sounded good, but it would take both of them together to pull it off. She trusted him. She now knew he was aware of her true identity.
She said, “Do I pay more if you act as a partner?”
“If you agree to a temporary partnership and this guy is involved in the same sort of activities as your other targets, this one is free.”
“Thanks, partner,” Honey said and reached her right hand across the table.
Bert took it in his large hand and squeezed gently. “We’ll fix him Honey.” He gave her a reassuring smile, and was on the verge of asking about her questioning of Morgan, but decided to leave it. If she wanted him to know anything, she’d tell him in her own time.
They were enjoying a moment of companionable silence when the sound of sirens filled the air. Like all the others in the diner, the pair looked out to the highway and saw three police cruisers thundering towards Muskegon.
Bert said, “Perhaps they don’t have enough guys for an important task-,” he stopped and leaned over to look further down the main road. “Take your things Honey and get the hell out of here, go now!” A police cruiser with two officers pulled up 50 yards away to form a roadblock.
Honey said, “What are you going to do-,” but she was already lifting her bags.
“Go,” he said. “I’ll see you in New York.” At that, he got up and made his way out of the diner, but instead of heading to the lot with Honey, he ran into the nearby woodland. One minute after Bert disappeared there were two rapid gunshots from within the woods.
Honey was on her way out of the diner and in no apparent hurry. She watched as both patrolmen ran to the woodland to investigate the shooting. Honey hated leaving Bert behind, but reasoned that he knew what he was doing. She got into her car and drove past the unattended cruiser as she left the area and headed south.
*
1 Police Plaza
Lower Manhattan, New York
Maria stood in a small locker room waiting. Two uniformed cops had finished changing and had chatted before they left. When she was alone, the Italian opened her locker and lifted out the plain brown package. It was the first opportunity she’d had to get the journal on the next stage of its journey to the DA’s office.
The locker room was a busy place, and Maria turned to see the door open and a smartly dressed woman in her late 40’s step inside.
“Are we alone?” Captain Kelly’s PA asked.
“Yes,” Maria said. “Why-,”
Cindy looked directly at Maria, before squatting to jam a small wooden wedge under the door.
Maria stood with furrowed brow watching the strange actions of the Englishwoman.
Cindy said, “I’d like us to have a private chat Maria.” The PA stood with her back to the door as somebody tried to force it open. “If you want to save your friend, meet me in one hour in Central Park.”
“Which part?” Maria decided to abandon any pretense with this woman.
“The Pond, at the southern end,” she paused and nodded towards Maria’s hand, “and if that package has anything to do with your missing friend, have it with you.”
“If you double-cross me-”
“Please trust me,” Cindy said and squatted down to remove the wedge. “Sorry,” she called to the uniformed cop trying to push the door open. “The bloody door is stuck.” Her typically polite English cursing amused those on the top floor. “Got it now.”
Maria would make the meeting, but she’d be on her guard.
*
Tuesday, June 24th, 2003
Bethlehem
At first when she lay down on Monday night. Honey wondered if she’d be able to sleep. Five minutes after her head touched the pillow, she was in dreamland.
She woke up early on Tuesday and stayed still for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling until her thoughts caught up with her. She remembered that before leaving Muskegon, Bert had suggested they parted company and that he went on alone to New York. He had told Honey that he’d like her to get a proper day of rest before she attempted the final act in her mission.
She had argued that she was fine to go on and drive straight to New York to find Strickland. Honey was still wound up tight, although she didn’t like to admit it. In the end, she had agreed to drive most of the way and pull over at a motel for the night.
Following several hours of sleep, she showered, dressed and caught a bus into Bethlehem. Her temporary partner’s idea was that she took a day to herself and tried to relax. Honey spent most of the day in Bethlehem.
She wandered the streets, had lunch, took in a movie and then bought some more clothes before catching the bus back out to the motel. If someone questioned her on her whereabouts during the day, she would have been lost for answers.
When she pulled out of the parking lot in the evening, she realized that her body may have been in one place all day, but her mind had been in so many other places. She joined the highway and headed for the city she knew well and a hotel that she had suggested to Bert. She would have another few hours of sleep before they met again.
*
Wednesday, June 25th, 2003
New York
Bert said, “How did it go yesterday?”
“Forget how things went with me,” she said. “How did things go with you at the diner?”
“I was worried about time being tight for you on your mission, so before I went to your room at Marjorie’s Place; I did a recon around the diner.” He smiled. “About 50 yards inside the woodland out back there was a large roll of barbed wire, so I pulled it close to the track and set up a basic booby-trap.”
“You didn’t drop it on those two patrolmen-,”
“Nah,” he said. “They did the natural thing and followed the only trail into the woods. I was in the bushes and watched them pass, and then I pulled on my tied up branch and dropped the razor wire across the only route out of the woods.”
“So by the time they found a way out you had disappeared?”
“Pretty much and because so many customers fled the diner, the police had no idea which vehicle they were looking for.”
“After I had left the diner, my mind was a blank most of the day,” Honey admitted. “Thanks for the concern and for what you did. If I didn’t rest my mind and body enough, I would probably have screwed up this next part.”
“You mean final part?” Bert suggested.
“No Bert,” she said, “I mean next.” She raised her right palm to face him. “I’ll explain later.”
They had gotten together to have breakfast in a deli. Even though they had booked into the same hotel, they had left separately and walked two blocks before meeting. Bert explained that he’d made progress and had also managed to check out a particular location that Honey had suggested.
After breakfast, they walked to the establishment where Strickland was known to be working. For a moment, they stood across the street and then Bert led Honey around the block to rehearse the first part of the plan in more detail. The second part would involve a location that it would be better to check at night, so they spent a while in the city together, had lunch and then made their way back to the hotel.
They agreed to leave the hotel separately again later, but meet up near the entrance to Central Park and have dinner before their recon of a location together. Honey was pleased that Bert had been able to find the place she wanted to use. After dinner, they took a cab to within a mile. Once on the street it took a mere ten minutes, before they were the only people in the particular part of the waterfront district.
Several of the roadways in the area were unlit, so there was total darkness along the length of some of the buildings, and illumination came fr
om the low-powered streetlights dotted around. There were few working lights in the area, but then it wasn’t a place any regular person would be heading at night.
Honey said, “As you probably know, any area with freight and warehouses has a multitude of places to hide a vehicle or person; or both.”
“This already feels right,” Bert said, “and I’ve only seen the general area properly in daylight.”
They had been dropped off by separate cabs near a restaurant. After meeting, they walked to the massive complex of warehouses, some in use, painted and advertising the storage company names, and others in a state of disrepair, with their broken windows and damaged doors. Honey seemed to be homing in on a specific building.
“Here we are,” she said in the semi-darkness in a narrow alleyway between two massive, disused buildings. She looked up and down the alleyway and then pushed the small door that was an integral part of a large double wooden door. It gave way with hardly a creak and the pair of them entered into the cavernous, dark structure.
Once they were both inside, Bert pulled the door closed and switched on his flashlight. He aimed the beam at the floor to avoid calling attention to their visit. He looked back at the large doors now behind them. There was a long metal bar that Bert was able to seat in its brackets to secure the building from the inside. Large and small doors were secured.
He said, “I like this place already, and those doors are easy to deal with.”
Honey led the way across the huge space. At 100 yards long and 50 yards wide, it was about the area of a soccer playing field, but with walls and a high roof. There was a small cabin at one end of the warehouse.
They walked towards the cabin, and once inside, went down a flight of stairs into the basement. It was the same size as the ground floor. The place held a variety of aromas, some musty, some rotten, but none were sweet. A large rat bound across their path.
Massive pulley and chain arrangements remained fitted at various positions around the basement, and there were huge trap-doors in the ceiling and floor. These indicated that items could be placed or transported to any floor. It also suggested a second level basement. Honey led the way to a staircase situated in one of the corners and went down once again.
