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Revenge: A Clancy Evans Mystery (Clancy Evans PI Book 4)

Page 9

by M. Glenn Graves


  There was also one more thing I should mention that deserves to be on the credit side of the ledger for Aunt May. I have some great aunts on my grandfather’s side of the family who made an art form of demonstrating erratic natures. Aunt May was the singular individual who could tolerate those souls with their constant sarcasm, vindictive dispositions and eccentric behaviors. She treated them as if they were normal. In fact, now that I think of it, only my Uncle Walters had the type of personality that one might want to imitate. His eccentricities went in the direction of sheer brilliance. In addition, he had always been quite successful in any of his business ventures. All of that is another story.

  Aunt May also drove from Richmond to Clancyville regularly during the two years following my father’s brutal slaying in 1971. She helped my mother cope with the egregious loss of her husband, my father. She helped me too, although I will admit that it took me years to work through my anger. It also took me years to find daddy’s killer.

  Rosey and I wandered out to the back porch so we could look at the old Studebaker shed just in case it blew up. Always ready for a good fireworks show.

  “We need to keep my mother out of harm’s way,” I said.

  “You’re thinking of moving her away from here.”

  “I am. Aunt May lives about fifteen miles from here, out in the country. Remote. People who do not know the terrain would need a map to get there. Some who even know the direction can’t find it.”

  “Sounds safe.”

  “Better than staying here. Saunders may not be finished with my mother.”

  “Or with you.”

  “You’re in this equation too, Mr. Washington. Friends forever.”

  “Something like that. You think May can keep Rachel Jo down on the farm for the duration?”

  “If anyone can. My money’s on May after I explain the situation to her. She’s cunning, crafty, and has a wicked sense of humor. Besides that, she’s an Episcopalian. When I was a young child, I pretended that I was kin to her simply because I wanted to be. My role model, if you please. She tolerated my whims much better than my mother. And I think she can handle my mother for a spell.”

  “You wanna walk Sam around a bit?”

  Sam scratched on the back door on cue. He was carrying his leash in his mouth. I opened the door and he sat down at Rosey’s feet.

  “You two plan this ahead of time? The dog must be intuitive,” he said.

  “He’s also highly intelligent. Loves to walk. It’ll give you two a chance to bond.”

  “Let’s go buddy. Me and you. Tight.”

  While Rosey and Sam were walking the sidewalks of Clancyville, I called Ford Greer in Norfolk about the pipe bomb in my mother’s shed. Ford was the head of the bomb squad unit. Ford was highly trained with nerves of steel. If anyone knew how to construct a bomb, it was Ford.

  I was told that he was out of the city for a few days. They said they would relay the message to him but made no promises that he would contact me before he returned to Norfolk.

  I called Rogers to update her on our current situation.

  “Glad you’re alive,” Rogers said.

  “We are, too.”

  “Bombs are nasty.”

  “Can be. I need you to contact Diamond and have her call me.”

  “The assassin.”

  “The same.”

  “What do you want with her?”

  “Her expertise.”

  “She kills people.”

  “Precisely.”

  “You want someone killed?”

  “Won’t answer that. Incriminating. I need to talk with her. I have a business proposition.”

  “You playing with fire again?”

  “Saunders is a real threat, not only to me, but to everyone who is close to me. She wants me to suffer and she knows that hurting others will cause me suffering as well as hurting me directly. I plan to stop her.”

  “I’ll make the call. Reluctantly. Anything else?”

  “Update Estelle Stevens in D.C. Send her an email from me. Tell her what we know and have her call Rosey on his cell. She needs to lay low for a while as well. I suggest an extended vacation. Far away.”

  “You think Saunders will go after friends of a friend, huh?”

  “I think Saunders is a devious serial killer who delights in revenge. No one I know is safe from her.”

  “You better make a list. You know a lot of folks.”

  I was sitting in the living room watching my mother prepare the evening feast that was coming for Aunt May. My cell phone rang.

  “Clancy here.”

  “Ford Greer here. You need something?”

  “Wow, that was fast.”

  “I screen the calls into the station. I return the ones that interest me.”

  “Flattered that I’m on the short list.”

  “You don’t usually call. Something must be going on. I like action.”

  “How far are you from Clancyville, Virginia?”

  “Two hours. You got something?”

  “Directly up your alley, Ford.”

  I explained the situation to him. He agreed to come after I invited him to supper. I was relieved. I didn’t like bombs, especially ones on my mother’s property.

  “If you leave now, you can make here for my mother’s fare. It’s worth the drive. We’ll wait.”

  “I’m leaving home as we speak,” Ford said.

  Rosey and Sam returned an hour later.

  “Good walk, huh?”

  “The dog had fun. He knows many of the dogs in this town.”

  “Networker.”

  “Like his master.”

  Chapter 19

  By 7:30 the feast was over and Ford was in the shed studying the pipe bomb. I was holding a heavy duty flashlight for him since the sixty watt bulb my mother had hanging from the shed ceiling didn’t really do the job. Rosey was in the house washing dishes. Aunt May was drying. My mother had a dishwasher but I was the only one who ever used it. Mother was putting away the few leftovers. Sam was the shed with me and Ford Greer. Watching him intently.

  Not really a Norman Rockwall painting, but it was my life. Rural America.

  “What do you think?” I said.

  “I think somebody’s playin’ around with you,” Ford said.

  “Phony bomb?”

  “Real enough, but the cell phone had no battery in it so it couldn’t work. There was no alternative detonating device, so the bomb was useless.”

  “Not quite useless. It scared the hell out of us.”

  “Well, there’s that. But as far as killing you or inflicting damage to anything, it was a dud.”

  “I think it served its purpose.”

  “Shot across the bow or something.”

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  “I want to take this with me. I can have it dusted for prints.”

  “Sure thing. Take it. I know who made it, who sent it, who’s playing with us, but see what you can discover.”

  “I’ll have it dusted. I’ll also have my team tear it apart and maybe learn something else. Never can tell.”

  “You know your stuff, Ford. I appreciate your help.”

  “You paid me handsomely. Well, your mother paid me. I could die a happy man after that apple pie.”

  I told Rosey what Ford had related. He was resting from his dishwashing duty. May and Rachel were sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee and talking. Rosey, Sam, and I were in the living room adjacent to the kitchen talking in low tones.

  “She’s evil,” Rosey said.

  “Yeah.”

  “I called Estelle and told her to take a long vacation far away. My treat.”

  “Aren’t you the boss of the year?”

  “I want her to live.”

  “Good to be safe.

  “Told her not to call me unless somebody tried to kill her.”

  “Works only if they are not successful. Anyone else you need to alert?”

  “I don’
t have as many friends as you do. I have some acquaintances. Lots of those types, but few people close to me.”

  “No former SEAL buddy or close ties from your trips to Asia?”

  “Nothing that Saunders could get her vindictive hands on. No paper trail. That’s the beauty of being a SEAL and all my other work.”

  “No trail from those escapades in Asia?”

  “Covert opts.”

  “Master spy.”

  “It’s the company for whom I work.”

  “Few people know the real you.”

  “Better that way.”

  “Ah, yes. The danger of knowledge. Could be worse though.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I could be here in this mess alone.”

  “But you’re not. You and me, kid. Deadly associates.”

  It was easy to convince Aunt May to take care of my mother. It was not as easy to convince my mother to go stay with May in the country. Finally, after providing her with all of the gory details of my recent imprisonment at the hands of Saunders, she reluctantly consented to stay with May. Only for the time being. I had no idea how long she could endure being away from her house and world. I had no idea how long May could stand being under the same roof with my mother, saint or not. Everyone has their limits.

  Rosey and I decided to return to Norfolk just to see if Saunders might be tracking us. I thought of leaving Sam with May and Rachel, but after reflecting on all that had happened so far with Saunders, I decided against it at the last minute. May would have been fine with Sam, but my mother still only tolerated my dog. Friendship was somewhere off in the distance.

  I wondered if she felt threatened by his intelligence.

  Somewhere around South Boston I received a phone call. Unknown caller and number.

  “Diamond here.”

  “Slow time of the year for you?” I said.

  “Still resting up from my last venture. Scars need time to heal. You need something?”

  “I do.”

  I explained the situation to her and told her what my position was on hiring an assassin.

  “So you are not hiring me to kill her.”

  “Correct.”

  “You are hiring me to make her think you have hired me to kill her.”

  “So far so good.”

  “Just how do I do that without shooting her?”

  “Hey, you’re the professional. I’m only creating the illusion.”

  “You understand that I do not miss when I go after someone.”

  “You missed me.”

  “You are the singular exception in my life. Never before or never again.”

  “I like confidence. Been practicing?”

  “Always. Accuracy equals staying alive. I’m better than I was.”

  “Can you create the illusion without killing her?”

  “I like a challenge. She will know someone is after her. However …” her voice trailed off and there was silence.

  “What?”

  “There could be some collateral damage on this.”

  “Minimize as much as you can.”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  “I have every confidence.”

  “You should.”

  “One more thing.”

  “You’re not hiring me.”

  “Correct. You have expenses.”

  “I do. I will charge the person you are not hiring me to kill.”

  Her phone clicked off. I closed my cell and put it back in my front pocket.

  “That was an interesting conversation from this end,” Rosey said.

  “Bending the law.”

  “At the very least.”

  Chapter 20

  November brought a cold wave to Norfolk upon our return. It was a good time to stay inside out of the wind and icy rain. It was early morning and I was enjoying some new Indian coffee while Rosey was enjoying whatever dreams he was having. Sam was asleep next to me on the sofa. I was trying to finish off my Baldacci book.

  Rosey decided that he would stay around close for the time being. He had nothing pending with his dubious work in D.C. and I appreciated his willingness to see this sordid ordeal to its conclusion. Besides that, I suspected that he wanted to stop Saunders as much as I did.

  Yesterday I spent most of the time updating Rogers on the details of the last several days including my double hostage ritual with Saunders and my mother’s faux bomb threat. Rogers commented several times that she thought Saunders was a raging lunatic. She kept saying that the logical deduction of all the data submitted thus far moved directly to that conclusion. Apparently opinions among the humans did not differ from this.

  Rosey spent the day making sure that Estelle was safely en route to an unknown location and would remain hidden there until he got word to her that all was safe. Estelle was also to let us know if anything unusual happened to her while she was off wherever she was off to. He wired her some cash to be picked up in St. Louis and then told her to buy a disposable cell phone to call him in two weeks. He related to me that Estelle was not a happy camper with this turn of events, but she was a dutiful office manager and complied with Rosey’s instructions.

  I finished my Baldacci novel and had just started reading a Grisham offering when the phone rang. It was 6:49 a.m. Too early for most people.

  “Morning, sunshine,” I said without knowing who the person was on the other end.

  “Aren’t we up at ‘em today,” Diamond said.

  I had spoken with her enough lately to recognize the voice easily. Her telephone voice was one of those very pleasant voices but without a lot of fluff. She aimed directly at the point of her call. She chased no rabbits in getting there.

  “Coffee speaking. Also hoping that whoever is calling so early might bring some clearing skies and warmth to this cold city.”

  “Inclement weather?”

  “Icy rain and wind. Looks like a front is here to stay a few days.”

  “Sunny here. Not warm, but the rays help bolster the disposition.”

  “And here is …?”

  “Here is here. Specifics would be too much information.”

  “How can I help you?”

  “Can’t. Just checking in to relay some news. Saunders is headed towards your rainy city.”

  “How did you find her so quickly?”

  “I’m good at what I do.”

  “Aren’t we the modest ones.”

  “No room for modesty in my work. I know my skills and I know my limitations. Best to know both. More than simply handy.”

  “You headed this way?”

  “Can’t say.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Either one. Need to know.”

  The call ended abruptly. So much for long goodbyes. Diamond should be a public speaker, like a politician or preacher. Says what she intends to say and no more. Terse and quick. Good combination. She’d also be a good partner if she did not have the predilection towards killing people. It’s a bad habit. On the other hand, that’s exactly what makes her good. Paradox.

  “That had to be Diamond,” Rogers said to me from across the room.

  “Hey, keep your voice down,” I said. “He’s not that heavy a sleeper.”

  “Maybe we should bring him into our little loop.”

  I said nothing, but was thinking of that notion. It would certainly make life easier if Rosey knew all of Rogers’ talents. After all, I trusted this man with my very life. Why not trust him with my secret of secrets. There would a few thousand questions on his part no doubt. Then there would be the question of why I have not told him before now. More than I wanted to deal with at present.

  “It would make our case working and normal routines a lot easier,” Rogers said.

  “What would?” Rosey said as he stumbled into the living room rubbing his eyes and trying to navigate his way over to the sofa. He plopped down between Sam and me.

  It was one of those rare occasions in which I was caught speechless.
<
br />   “You on one of those computer phone conversations?” he asked.

  “Not exactly,” I said.

  “So who you talking to?”

  “Rogers.”

  “Rogers who?”

  “The computer.”

  “Right. Voice recognition program, huh? I need coffee,” he said as he walked slowly to the kitchen.

  “Rogers, say hello to Roosevelt Washington, my good friend.”

  “Hello, Roosevelt Washington. May I call you Rosey?”

  Rosey stopped rubbing his eyes and looked at me first, then across the room to where the computer monitor and CPU were stationed. He was bewildered.

  “How are you doing this?”

  “I am not doing anything. You are talking to the computer.”

  “One of those voice programs, right? Amazing what they can do these days. I simply ask questions of the computer and expect some reasonable answers.”

  “You can ask, but her answers are not always reasonable,” I said.

  “Hey, watch your tongue, Missy. I am a rational, intelligent being who is always reasonable,” Rogers said.

  “Ask her something,” I said to Rosey. Then to her, “Let him judge how reasonable you are.”

  “Who is the President of the United States?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Rogers replied. “What a dufus question. Any idiot knows who the president of the United States is. Ask me something hard.”

  “Amazing,” Rosey said. “A computer program with attitude. Much like you, Clancy. Did you write this program?”

  “Some of it. My Uncle Walters and I collaborated on the project.”

  “The Boston connection.”

  “The very one.”

  “Okay, something hard. I figure that it has an excellent math processor, so I won’t ask any mathematical questions. They would be too easy.”

  “Ask a question that forces her to think,” I said.

  “To think?” Rosey said.

  “Better, force her to use reason. She’s been idle for several weeks now. Give her something to chew on.”

 

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