by Roach Spell
34
Previously, that same night.
Mary slapped Stan in the face. “You know that this detective is right behind us,” she said. “He knows more than we ever thought possible, and tonight you must go to Room 8.” She was furiously, smoking cigarettes and pacing the room. Stan held both pieces of paper, comparing them. One was from the skull denture, while the other was from Rose’s necklace, which he had gotten from Esperanza, who could not resist two hundred dollars in exchange for the piece of paper. Stan negotiated with her during a secret meeting in the laundry room. Esperanza prayed to her rosary, immediately forgiven. Mary, however, kicked Stan again and said, “Go now. Get the treasure and come back quickly.”
In the meantime, Mary smoked forty cigarettes, drinking a bottle of cheap red wine punched with sugar. It was nearly dawn, and the light had already begun to replace the moon. Stan had not returned with the promised treasure. Mary knew something had gone wrong. He might have run off without me and taken that treasure all alone, she thought to herself. He might have found evidence that I am indeed an Italian mobster, just like him. Did he take it all and leave?
She connected her phone, dialed the number for Room 7 and spoke in a funny mix of Italian and English. “Ciao fratelli,” she said, “the bastard did not return from Room 8. I think we need to find out whether one of your assistants saw anything.”
The deep voice DV at the other end of the line replied, “We heard something after we came back from the restaurant, but we were not aware that the son of bitch had already entered the room. You did not inform us correctly. Another question – is there a hole in the backyard? Did you know about that?”
Mary in anger; “Yes, the first part of the map let us to the second part of the map, which was hidden in the ground just behind room 8. Why, do you think there was more there than that hole and skull with the map?” “Stupida,” said the deep voice. “Yes, there might be something additional.” “Basta,” Mary cursed at her real brother through the phone. “Do something!”
At the early dawn hour, Jim stood over the hole behind the building in line with Room 8. He loaded his pistol and put a big long knife into his cowboy boots.
Crouching down with hardly enough space for his tall body, he disappeared with his Texan hat on. Minutes later, followed by the infamous motel Skunk, two mobs also came around the corner, going in the same direction.
The man with the deep voice looked at his watch. Soon it would be time for breakfast at the reception, and he needed a solid alibi.
35
The Morning came rushing in like a crowded train from Tokyo. Many noises reminded Spencer of a turkey farm he once visited in the outskirts of Glasgow.
At the motel, all the Japanese guests were heading for the reception to eat breakfast. Spencer organized some support from Yuki because he knew it would get busy. The Japanese women spoke to Yuki in a friendly tone, although Yuki did not understand what they were saying. Still, giving an Asian smile was good enough.
Miller and his team queued up for coffee, but Spencer took his VIP guests away from the cheering crowd.
“They really are a happy bunch, aren’t they?” said Miller loudly. He looked at Spencer, who was watching Jean walking down the stairs from the second floor. He also saw the mobster boss DV approaching the group. There was no sign of the others and no movement coming from Room 8.
Jim, who should have been around, did not show up.
Spencer said to Miller, “It looks like something unusual is going on. Besides those tourists here, can Taylor go down to our maintenance quarter and see where Jim is? Maybe he is still asleep, or perhaps he has had too much to drink. Esperanza should be in the laundry room and Harper might be sweeping down there.”
The Japanese tourists gathered around the raised flag. They were all ready to explore. An outing to the San Juan Capistrano Mission was on the agenda, as well as a whale-watching excursion from the Dana Wharf in the afternoon. Perhaps they would be lucky and see a blue whale. Spencer had arranged for some sushi that morning, and it has all eaten up before they left for the bus. The bus was noisy, and the exhaust from the car produced a lot of smoke.
Their talking masked a sudden ticking sound that made Miller wonder. Taylor returned and informed that Jim was not around. Mary stood right behind him, looking for coffee and smoking with a worried look on her strange face. Stan was not with her. She did not look at the man with the deep voice, who was leaning against the door to the reception and staring at Miller.
Miller smoked his Cuban cigar and turned to the mobster. “Let me introduce myself,” he said. “I am Detective Miller from the LAPD. I assume you are not from here?”
Deep voice, DV, sipped on his coffee and said, “This is the best coffee I have had in years. A real compliment to the person who made it here, for it tastes like a real fine Arabic from Columbia with the final production in Italy.
Yes, you are correct, Detective Miller. I am from Nevada. Now, did Mr. Spencer make this incredible coffee?”
Miller smiled and looked for Spencer, who was registering some well-known guests, although he had agreed not to do so. Spencer made an exception because it was the young couple from before, and he just had to support their love life.
Bertha came in just then, which was very unusual because she preferred not to expose herself too much. Spencer accepted the mobster’s compliment and turned around.
He looked at the three women and thought, oh dear. This is an odd situation, for Jean, Bertha and Yuki are gossiping. Now they are all giving me a look. Just smile and act natural.
He approached the women to refill their coffee cups and thought, similar situation with the cops, mobsters, gangsters and treasure hunters. It really is time to end this somehow.
Boom!*
*the only boom
A huge explosion sounded just then, and the whole ground shook. The reception desk flew up from the ground, and chunks of concrete turned the desk upside down.
The Japanese tourist bus had already left, approaching the end of the parking lot. Shrill screaming came from inside the vehicle. The passengers were all okay, away from the source of the explosion, and they pressed their little Japanese noses to the windows and stared over at the reception from the intersection. Before long, the light turned green and the bus went off. The Japanese tourists remained inside the rolling bus wondering what was going on.
Meanwhile, everyone else was falling in their own way to the ground, spilling coffee, with some people hurt by the roof material and concrete cracking up from the floor. The gully in the parking lot flew from its round spot, and the reception obviously badly damaged.
Jean, Bertha and Yuki helped each other up. They all seemed very shocked. Miller got help from DV, who steadied him when the devastating explosion occurred. Mary fell on her bottom and sat by the buckled bench. Taylor, Parson and the young lovers were out in the open air; they only fell without getting into more trouble, as the steel gully had passed them by.
Spencer thrown to the back of the reception desk, his leg stuck underneath it. It hurt a great deal, and indeed, he observed a deep, deep hole, a crack on the floor, with fire and…people?
What in the fucking hell just happened? He wondered.
Why do I smell that skunk again?
Then everything faded to black.
36
Previously.
Jim entered the hole just before dawn, taking the stairs almost straight into the tunnel. He was surprised, but confident about uncovering the truth. The walls were moist, and the smell of the sewer system proved quite strong.
Eventually he came to another small staircase from up above.
This was Room 8.
Jim turned off his powerful army flashlight and peered into the space. He spotted a pair of legs and recognized Stan, tied up with tape over his mouth. Jim ignored his big eyes, which were in need of relief, and continued back down into the tunnel. When he moved forward, his cowboy boots felt like he was stepping on cott
on. Then came a squeaky scream and a cloud of skunk spray – the animal ran back to where it came from. Jim, who brought a flask of whisky with him, soaked a rag and tied it around his face, covering his nose with it. He went on and listened to the voices ahead of him. It sounded like they were speaking Spanish. From the point of entry, he suddenly heard loud cursing in a mix of Italian and English. The skunk, wanting to flee from the tunnel, encountered the two mobsters. It could not help but shoot full loads of spray at them, running past them and out toward freedom again. A fucking real bad place to be, the skunk presumably thought. Very carefully, Jim tried to sneak toward a light that he could trace in the near distance, which led to a big chamber. This must be where the underground tanks were stored at the old gas station, he thought.
Then he felt a gun pressed to his ribs.
“Don’t you move, cowboy, or I’ll shoot you. Comprender? Now sit over here – sit!”
Scarface tied Jim to a wooden chair. From there, he looked into the chamber.
There were piles of dollar bills, boxes with gold coins, gold bars and jewels. The entire chamber was bursting with fortune. There was also a table with a number of chairs, dimly lit from above, and a poker table.
“It is all mine, and I will take it with me in the night. I will take it through the back and no one will know,” said Scarface. “Dios gave me this blessing,” he continued. His eyes were shining like cursed by insanity. “You will not get in my way. Sit here and do not try anything. We have to wait until nightfall.”
Scarface sent Shadow back to Room 8 to get some food and drink, and to see that Stan remained tied up securely. Shadow entered the tunnel and recognized the two mobsters. They did not see him; they smelled badly, and Shadow shot them both precisely– pang, pang. The two of them went down with no hesitation. Upon stepping up the three stairs from the dark tunnel into Room 8, Shadow discovered that Stan was gone from his original spot. He carefully checked the room and entered the bathroom; before he knew it, the plastic shower curtain strapped over his head. He twisted about, feeling a needle jam into his neck. Immediate dizziness followed, and then Shadow was gone. Stan placed the injector in his special pocket and entered the tunnel, badly in need of a cigarette. He constantly checked his pocket for a lighter as he moved forward.
When he entered the chamber, Stan saw Jim and Scarface. Scarface held Jim’s big knife and lunged toward him. “Don’t kill me,” begged Stan. “At least let me have one more cigarette.” Scarface laughed and said, “Okay gringo, you can have your cigarette.” Scarface removed a lighter from his shirt pocket and threw it in Stan’s direction. Stan couldn’t quite catch it, and it went farther into the dark corner. Stan searched for it, kneeling down. His cigarette was ready to smoke, he lit up the flame, and then the explosion occurred.
The old gas station had left canisters of fuel behind, and no one had bothered to get rid of it over all these decades. The lighter took care of it now. Boom! Stan left in pieces.
37
DV mobster and Miller lifted the reception desk and pulled Spencer’s unconscious body out to safety. They carried him, with help from Yuki, to his bedroom. Yuki splashed water in his face and Spencer woke up quickly.
Jean, Taylor, and the others looked down into the hole and found smoke masking the treasure. Taylor stood in front, hit by a bullet that flew out from the dark chamber.
“Don’t try anything. I got me a hostage, and the cowboy is still alive.” Scarface shot his gun and yelled, “You people listen now. Arrange for a truck, and send people down through Room 8. I need them to collect the entire treasure and make sure I arrive safely across the border in Tijuana. If you don’t do this, the cowboy will die.”
Miller took over. “Listen Scarface, we understand your demands and will arrange the truck first. How about that fire – is it bad?”
Spencer, who was fully conscious now fumbled – again, with help from Yuki –for the two fire extinguishers. He stood over the crack, screaming down. “Scarface, I can bring these extinguishers and wipe out that fire in a minute. Hear me?”
“Okay, you can do that amigo, por favor.”
Miller said, “Actually, I can’t let you do that, Spencer. Parson can handle it.”
Spencer refused and said, “Look, I’m good with it. I’ll take care of the fire and you will take care of the rest.” Miller understood and placed Parson just above the chamber with the crumbled concrete at the reception. He instructed him and Jean to turn on their flashlights as soon as Spencer put out the fire.
Miller followed Spencer discreetly, with a classic six-bullet Smith & Wesson 45 in his hand. Spencer entering through 8 came into the smoky chamber and saw Jim, who signaled him, with his eyes, to be alert. Stan or whatever was left of him looked dead in the dark corner, while Scarface stood behind Jim, ready to kill the cowboy.
Spencer stepped onto a wooden chair and blew the foam into the fire, which then spread to the table, mostly on some piles of dollar bills, wooden boxes and moneybags. The foam was covering it and blocking the oxygen, putting the fire out immediately.
Spencer said, “See? That was easy, and now we can do the rest.” That was the signal for Jim to push backward into Scarface. Miller stormed around from the narrow tunnel, and the flashlights turned on from up above. Spencer sent foam in the direction of Scarface, who lifted his gun angrily and began to shoot.
He pulled the trigger twice and hit Spencer with one. Jim was stuck seated in the chair on the ground now.
Miller aimed and shot Scarface right in the chest and arm. It was over, and everyone turned to Spencer. Yuki rushing down to the tunnel through Room 8.
Spencer was unconscious again; he had taken a bullet just below his left shoulder. Yuki comforted Spencer, holding him and waiting for the final rescue. Miller took Scarface, who was cursing in pain, onto the oily chamber floor. Fortunately, he was able to walk.
Jim was untied and released, and he and Miller walked back through the tunnel up to Room 8. Scarface still managed to move his elbows, but Jim kept him detained.
Miller looked at all the boxes filled with cocaine and speed, turning to Scarface, he said, “This time, you will go to jail for many years. Your syndicate won’t get you out.”
Miller arranged the ambulance for Spencer, making sure his injured, unconscious friend, received immediate first aid. Yuki followed close behind him, while the red and blue lights flashed and the sirens went on. The ambulance drove fast from the PCH to the hospital.
Above ground, the final act had begun. Mary’s anger boiled over the lost treasure, and she took the gun from Jean’s holster while the two of them pointed their flashlights down into the chamber. Jean did not even notice.
“You get me that box with the gold coins or I will shoot this fat lady.” Mary pointed the gun to Bertha, who sat before them in a state of shock over recent events.
Before long, Miller was up at the scene. He said to Mary, “We will get you the gold and allow you to leave, but before we do, you need to tell the truth.
Stan is not your brother, but you tricked him because you knew about the Mafia treasure. You knew about that part of the map Stan’s father gave his mother, Bernadette Rose, before he died.
You knew it was here, but no one ever knew the exact location.”
Mary lit another cigarette and let go of Bertha for a moment, holding the gun in her other hand. Laughing wickedly, she said, “Stan was stupid, and after he almost killed himself at the hotel bar in Reno, I knew what I had to do. We had time to get our hands on this treasure. When Stan saw his mother again after all those years, she recognized him. That was when he turned soft. He wanted to share the treasure with her. When Spencer went up that night, I thought it would be best to handle things myself, since I am an experienced nurse. I killed Miss Rose, and I told Stan that Spencer did it. Stan wanted to seek revenge after collecting the treasure. He is dead now, though.
I would have gotten rid of him anyhow, once we arrived in Las Vegas. My brother –”
Before she could finish her thought, DV slapped her hard in the face and took her gun away. He stood above her and said in Italian, “zitto cagna. Si disgrazia la nostra famiglia.”
Parson took the gun away, which DV freely handed over. As a somewhat smart gangster boss, DV knew how to keep a clean record, so he immediately walked away from the scene.
Mary’s lips were bleeding; still asking for a cigarette, she was handcuffed and
Loaded into the back of the police truck. Scarface taken away in an ambulance, accompanied by several police officers. Taylor, shot by Scarface, already arrived at the hospital.
38
The sunlight was shining through the window. Flower arrangements, a wine bottle and an Eddie Money autograph placed on the sideboard. Spencer was wearing headphones and listening comfortably to a “Best of Money” music cassette. Yuki sat on his right side, resting her head on the blanket and slept a bit.
Someone knocked on the door to the hospital room, and Miller entered, together with Jean.
“We are happy to see you, Spencer,” said Miller. “Everything went just fine. I hear that you will also get a great reward from the treasure.”
The door opened again, and several black-suited guards with sunglasses appeared.
Nancy and Ronald Reagan entered, surprising Spencer with their visit. What an honor that was. Yuki immediately offered her seat to Nancy.
Ronald made a joke. “See?” he said. “Now we are the same. We know how it feels to take a bullet.”
Everybody laughed.
Ronald, who was very keen when he heard about the case; said, “Most of this money was drug-related, and the gold came from several ships. There were some dirty oil deals on them.
The coins and the jewelry remain, and the real mystery dates back hundreds of years. The coins are Spanish, and they are from the Pilgrim, or even the Drake. It will be investigated by the National Museum.” Ronald motionless, extended; “I have to admit, I knew this place, as among celebrities, the underground gambling, was once the talk of town. I was invited to join there but never actually found the time to visit the Villa.” He looked at the Detective, smiled and concluded; “now I will be glad to support the California state in distributing this fortune to many charity organizations all over the region.”
