The Gypsy Queen: A Matt Preston Novel (Matt Preston Series Book 3)

by Paul Shadinger

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  I suddenly remembered how Apple had started the conversation. He had asked me if ‘I had to do it.’ Now I wondered how Apple knew that bit of information about the pilot? I wondered if I dared to ask my next question. “John, did you have anything to do with the explosion?”

  “Matt, there are some questions you need to leave unasked.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “It means I don’t want to answer your question.”

  “John, I want to know. Did you have anything to do with MacDonald getting blown up?” I demanded.

  “I’ll give you this much of an answer. I was not personally involved in any way, but I was aware something might happen.”

  “And me? Where did I fit into this Machiavellian plot? You didn’t let me know?”

  Johnny’s voice grew softer and he sounded apologetic. “Matt, I used you. If the plan hadn’t gone the way it was supposed to, you were plan B. You were supposed to be my backup. I needed for you to think you were plan A so you could get your head on straight and do the deed if it had to be done. I’m sorry it turned out that way. I knew you were having second thoughts and I don’t blame you. I just hope you can forgive me.”

  I was still for so long finally Johnny asked me if I was still there. “Yeah. I’m still here. In a way, I’m pissed you set me up like that. But I’m glad I didn’t have to pull the trigger. I have to admit, you were right, I was having a hard time staying focused and keeping my head in the game. I didn’t want to shoot him in cold blood, even though I knew he had ordered out a hit on me. Johnny, you don’t have to feel so bad. I’m glad I didn’t have to drink the Kool-Aid this time.”

  “Are we still friends?” he asked.

  “Of course we are, Apple!” I laughed.

  “What are you doing next?”

  “I’m supposed to hear from Ilox about meeting Melissa soon. I guess I’ll head home and see what’s up with that. She may be a bit safer now, but we still need to find her and return her safe to… well, safely to where she wants to be.”

  We hung up and I headed for the airport and then on home for a hot shower and some sleep. I couldn’t believe how happy I was with the way things turned out. I really had dodged a mental bullet and best of all, MacDonald was out of the picture. I had seen it happen.

  And then the thought hit me, I had seen Hollis die too, but now there seemed to be a question about that. No! Hollis was dead. MacDonald was dead. I had pulled the trigger on one of those dudes myself. I knew Hollis was dead.

  And I’d seen the bird explode and take care of the other problem. It was over.

  It had to be!

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  It was one of the worst nights I’d had in a long time. The only positive thing was I’d stopped by Sharon’s and picked Beanie up and it helped having her around. My leg was killing me and I took some pain pills in the hope that I might be able to sleep, but to no avail.

  I must have been up at least five or six times during the night wandering around my apartment. What little sleep there was seemed to be filled with ugly nightmares. Once I dreamt I’d actually pulled the trigger, I had shot and killed MacDonald only to wake up and find myself soaked in sweat and wrapped up in my covers. I even had a dream I was hiding, waiting in the brush for the bird to arrive with a transmitter box in my hand so I could push the button to send the signal for it to explode. I’d come awake and then get up and pace for a while, sit in my chair and then go back to bed to see if I could sleep. A couple of times I made a drink thinking that would help, but it didn’t. Every time I moved, Beanie would get up and follow me. The times I sat in my chair, she promptly jumped up and snuggled down in my lap. She knew something was wrong and she was trying her best to make things better.

  A couple of times I even considered going back over to see Sharon, but I didn’t want to bother her with my problems. The whole MacDonald thing haunted me. I was sure he never had time to realize he was dead when his plane exploded. In a way, considering how many people over the years had suffered because of that man, it was a shame he didn’t know he was finally going to have to answer for his misdeeds. But that wasn’t my call. A much higher being will take care of that. I was just still feeling grateful I didn’t have to be the one who dispatched him. Now, even though it was all over, I found myself having to deal with a lot of really ugly thoughts and old memories long put away anyway.

  Eventually the skies started to lighten and I’d made it to morning. I started my coffee before I took Bean out and I tried to encourage her to make a little haste with her outing—I could already taste my cup of coffee. When I returned, I poured and fixed my coffee the way I like it and headed for my little office.

  I sipped at my coffee and fired up the computer. After it was up and running it was time to check my emails. I sifted through the usual mess and silently swore at myself for a past moment of weakness when I had succumbed to clicking on one of those stupid dating sites. The name of the site had something in it about cheating in the title, and to be honest, it was the picture of the cute naked girl that drew me in.

  I know I’m not letting anything out that may destroy any images any of you may have of me when I tell you I am a first-class pushover when it comes to women. I’m the first to admit I am an unabashed womanizer. And since the picture was of a nude lovely young lady in a seductive pose claiming she wasn’t getting satisfied in the bedroom department, and she was open to suggestions on how to rectify her problem, she drew me in. Because of that moment of weakness, now every time I open my email I am inundated with ladies wanting to be my buddy, or a private message, or I’m being allowed to view their personal pictures. If you think being a closet pervert doesn’t come with some punishment, dream on!

  One of the things I find totally unbelievable on these sites is what some of the ladies write in the space where they tell people what they are looking for in a relationship. Look, the names of these sites proclaim right up front they are for hooking up with somebody who is already in a relationship of some sort. The name of the site tells you they are about cheating on their significant other! What part of cheating here isn’t clear? Instead, I find some of these poor ladies pouring their hearts out how they are looking for the love of their lives, how they want true love. How they are looking for Mr. Right!

  HELLO! HELLO??

  Is anybody in there?

  These are sites where people are trying to find somebody who wants to hook up for a clandestine affair. May I be crude here for a moment? These sites are for people who want to fuck! And I am reading about people who write in how they are looking for their soul mate. Ladies, you are not going to find any soul mates on those sites! All you are going to find is just a bunch of horn dogs looking to get laid and a broken heart. It makes one wonder exactly how tightly wrapped these individuals are. Oh well, I wish them luck. I just hit delete and move on to the next absurd email that has found its way into my email box.

  About the fifth or sixth email I opened was from McNaulty. Totally stunned I read, “Matt, I need to talk to you. Meet me at the Troll. 5 PM. Please be there. Jacob”

  For those who are not from around here, Seattle has a troll living under the north end of the Aurora Bridge. And no, dummy, it’s not a live troll! Several years ago, an artist was commissioned to construct a large concrete statue of a troll eating a full-sized VW bug. It actually is kind of cool and anyone who has lived in Seattle for more than a few days knows about it. When I saw the email I thought at first it was kind of a stupid place for a meeting but since there are always people there, it might not seem as strange as if sounded. I looked at time on the bottom of the screen and realized it was time for me to get my day started.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  It was 4:50 PM when I got to the troll and I parked my truck a couple of blocks away and walked to the statue. Since the h
ouseboat that Sharon lives in is just down the hill from the troll, I’d dropped off Beanie with her again. Her dog Max loves it when Bean comes over since they play fight off and on all evening. I know it drives Sharon wild, but she enjoys having the two of them together, as do I.

  A tour bus was just loading up after the riders had all taken pictures of the troll with their traveling companions mugging in front of it. Just as the bus roared away, I saw McNaulty walk up. I started walking away. He caught up with me and we unhurriedly strolled along. “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Did you hear about MacDonald?”

  For a moment, I froze. I wondered just how much he might know about me being at the crash site. “I’ve heard some rumors. Why?”

  “Really? What do you know about it?” he asked.

  “I know that MacDonald is dead.”

  “And that’s it?”

  “Yeah, why?” That was all I wanted to share with him on the subject.

  My leg was hurting and McNaulty stopped. “What’s with your leg?”

  “I got hurt some time ago and I seem to have aggravated it. I’m just sore.”

  “You okay to walk?”

  “Yeah, thanks for asking.”

  “Did you know MacDonald put out an order for you to be terminated? He had a hit out on you?” he asked.

  “I was aware of it, yes.”

  “And you had nothing to do with his death?” The look on his face told me he didn’t quite believe my innocence.

  “Why would you think that?” I asked as innocently as possible.

  “To save yourself, perhaps?”

  “McNaulty, I had nothing to do with his bird exploding in the air as it was landing.”

  I watched McNaulty’s mouth drop open. “How… how did you know he died in a crash?” My revelation was enough to make him stutter.

  “I don’t think the helicopter crash killed him. I think he died when the copter exploded in the air. I believe he was dead before the bird hit the ground.” I wasn’t admitting to a thing. But I did want McNaulty to wonder just how much juice I might still have. I had no idea why we were having this talk, but I was determined to keep some sort of upper hand.

  “How do you… and you maintain you had nothing to do with any of it?” he asked.

  I could see I’d rattled him a little with my knowledge of the affair. “Nope. I guess the same question can be directed at you. What do you know about it? Did you have anything to do with the explosion and crash?” I was curious if McNaulty might know something.

  He was very careful with his words. “I did not have a thing to do with it. But I can think of several individuals who either may have, or actually did have something to do with it. I learned indirectly from some of them. Come on, let’s walk. You’re not going to tell me how you know so much about MacDonald’s death, are you?”

  “Nope. And I don’t feel bad in the least that he’s dead.”

  I could see I had finally shaken the unshakable Colonel McNaulty. I wanted to laugh out loud, but I kept it to myself. He eventually asked, “I understand you had a talk with Snooker. Correct?”

  “Who told you that?”

  “David Davidson. Ol’ Dopy Dave himself.”

  “Really? I didn’t know you knew Davidson.”

  “Yeah. I knew him from Nam.” There were a lot of questions I would have liked to ask, but this was McNaulty’s meeting.

  “Okay, I had a chat with Snooker.”

  “And?”

  “And what?” I wasn’t going to give out any more information than I had to until I knew where this conversation was headed

  “He told you he’d seen Hollis, right?”

  “Yeah. But I still think he was mistaken,” I said.

  “He wasn’t.”

  I came to a sudden stop. McNaulty stopped and turned around to face me. “You don’t understand,” I explained, “I’m not making a confession here, but you know I pulled that trigger. Come on, you know I shot Hollis between the eyes. I saw Hollis die. I know Hollis is as dead as that statue of the troll over there.”

  “You and Snooker are both right.” McNaulty said it so softly I didn’t think I heard him correctly.

  “What?”

  “You did kill Hollis and Snooker did see Hollis.”

  “HUH! What are you smoking, boy?”

  “Yes, you shot a man named Heyward Hollis. Snooker also saw a man that some people were told was Hollis and he believed it as well.”

  We turned and resumed walking. My mind was screaming with dozens of questions. “How do you know this?”

  “I’ll tell you something else, Davidson was the Denny Price to the man Snooker thought was Hollis.”

  My mind was spinning. What was he talking about? “You need to start over, I’m totally confused.”

  “Come on. Let’s go find a coffee shop and I’ll explain. And just maybe you’ll tell me how you know so much about MacDonald’s death.”

  Amazing, here we were in the middle of Seattle and we came across a Starbucks in the next block. I know, the mind boggles. After we had our drinks we took them outside and found an isolated table. “Okay. Start this again.”

  “The two men you knew as Heyward Hollis and Dennis Price were real people. That was their actual names. MacDonald and I were the ones who paired them up as a strike team, a black team. You already know these were guys who did the dirtiest of all dirty, they were blacker than black. Whatever you wanted to call them, there was nothing they wouldn’t do.

  “Well, the demand for the pair got to be too big. There were a lot of higher ups who either wanted, or needed stuff done by Hollis and Price. So, the general, who was a light colonel at the time, and I decided to create a couple of more teams like Hollis and Price.

  “Between the two of us, we found four guys who matched Hollis and Price psychologically. Both teams were like the real Hollis and Price except they weren’t fags and MacDonald turned them into two, two man teams. Now we had three teams and just so nobody would think they were getting the B team, we represented all three teams as the real deal: the real Hollis and Price. When you contacted either of us, you asked for Hollis and Price and we would send the team that best suited your needs. Davidson was ‘Price’ on a team and his ‘Hollis’ knew Snooker. Snooker actually knew one of the men we passed off as Hollis and thought his name was Heyward Hollis. Now you understand the confusion?

  “Also, the man you met on the ferry the other day, the one who was killed as he left the boat?” I was surprised. “He was the third Price on a team. His Hollis had already died of cancer. Seems that all the teams got into something where most of them ended up getting cancer.”

  McNaulty took a deep breath and as he let it out, said, “I’ve wanted to let you know all this for some time now, but I’d been ordered to be still. The person who gave that order isn’t around anymore.” He gave me a rueful grin. “The diary you found actually detailed all about the three hit teams, and a lot of other things as well. Who they were and some of the missions they went on and a bunch of other shit. Needless to say, there’s no way any information in that diary can ever see the light of day. It has to stay top secret.”

  No wonder MacDonald wanted that diary so bad and also didn’t want anyone who might have read the damn thing alive. Not only did Hollis have details of missions they had done, but information on the other H/P teams. Of course the gold was secondary; the real valuable thing was that diary. And now it appeared there were no more copies. Considering the talents of some of the guys on those H/P teams, opening a safe was child’s play. My mind had wandered off and I became aware of McNaulty saying, “Matt! Matt? Are you okay?”

  “What? Sorry. I was just thinking about what you just told me. It does explain why Snooker was so positive he’d seen Hollis. It also explains why the military swept in and took Price and Hollis’ bodies away so
quickly.” Finally, I had to ask, “Why? Why come to me now and tell me all of this?”

  “I really wanted to do this before MacDonald was killed. I didn’t trust Ol’ CV. You know MacDonald wanted you dead and that was because you came out on top that night out on the playing field. He was positive you knew the truth about everything. What mattered was you got away, even if maybe you didn’t know the truth about what actually happened over there. MacDonald held a grudge.”

  “How much does Walter know?”

  “That was one of the really funny things. We tried to recruit him, but he kept asking too many questions. We were going to actually take him on a mission, but because he kept asking questions, CV sent him off on another assignment that was supposed to get him killed. He had no idea what was going on. I always wondered if you hadn’t gotten hurt would CV have recruited you. But you ended up getting your butt shot off and sent home.” I closed my eyes for a moment and thanked the universe I’d been shot. I never thought I would appreciate the fact I’d been badly wounded, but hearing McNaulty tell me his tale, I was ecstatic I’d dodged the H/P team bullet. I thought I had some bad memories of things I had done, but I knew stuff about Walter and from what the colonel was telling me, those teams had done things that made Walter sound like an altar boy.

  “Are you in any danger?” I asked. “Now that you told me all of this, what can happen to you?”

  “As you know, MacDonald is out of the picture. I’m telling you this because tomorrow I am off to—well, I can’t really tell you where I’m off to. I just wanted to let you know what happened. I thought you deserved the truth.”

  “Are you still active in MacDonald’s agency?” McNaulty agreed. “I take it, where you’re headed has something to do with that agency?” He smiled. “Not to offend, but aren’t you getting a little old for this stuff? Why don’t you get out?”

  “I can’t. CV had a bunch of shit he was holding over my head to make me keep working for him and I don’t have any idea where some of it is. But to be honest, I’m hooked on the adrenaline. I like the danger and the rush. I know I should get out now while I can. I guess you can say I still haven’t grown up. I may be getting older, but I refuse to grow up.” I understood the statement way too well. It was me!