by Tony Bulmer
Senator Positano sat in the back of the vehicle. She hitched her robo-shades on top of her head, regarding me like a grey-eyed super-predator. Inez had a number of names for Positano—Vampire lady being one—that would be on a good day. The name fitted. Positano had a wide repertoire of guttural opinions, all of which could melt the paint off your Ferrari at a thousand paces.
‘I trust that you are not planning to bring that dog in this vehicle?’
‘Max is very well behaved,’ I said, ‘He is a member of the family.’
‘Dogs are dirty unpleasant creatures. I have a disliking for them, and I would appreciate it if you would remove it from my presence.’
‘Certainly Senator, if it would make you feel more comfortable,’ I looked down at Max. ‘Sorry buddy, I’m going to have to catch you later.’ Max stared back, with sad-eyed resignation, giving me an indignant sniff, as I led him out to the trail car.
Ellen Positano regarded me closely. ‘Will Ms Santos be joining us?’
Ms Santos! Beware the spook mind meld!
I told the Senator that Ms Santos had pressing security issues to attend to, but she would be joining us directly. I didn’t mention that, I had corralled my mom’s miniature dog, Chowsey, inside Inez’s office, in the hope this would prevent the diabolical mini-mutt from rampaging through the CCP building creating unholy chaos. I prayed that I would be able to deliver Senator Positano to our offices in Marina Del Rey and remove the Chowsy to a safer more well thought out location, before Inez discovered him in her office. But as the Senator lingered, a horrific possibility occurred to me. Inez could have reached the office before us, with Larry Miller the CEO of Bell Attack Helicopters. I pictured Inez and our most prestigious corporate client being chased around the office by Chowsey the furry terror. Oops.
We set out in convoy, driving the through the LA morning, to the meeting. An interminable silence ticked by. We hit traffic. The AC hummed. Cold air gushed. My mind wandered out across the drive-time morning to the mountains beyond the city—Dead girls, gangsters, Uzi attacks. Mimi, Louanne, Corin Cabrillo, the diamonds. It all came down to the diamonds.
The voice of Ellen Positano snapped me back to reality. ‘You are something of a maverick Mr. Costello, an enthusiast. Your work ethic has always impressed me greatly however, but there are those within the Department of Defense, who do not share my belief in your company’s abilities. Joe looked at me darkly, as he took this comment on board. I sensed an imminent out burst, but I cautioned against it with flashing glance.
I looked at Positano in the rear-view. She said,‘ I have to tell you gentlemen, that I have heard a number of very unfortunate allegations concerning the dissolute and thoroughly inappropriate behavior of certain executives within this company. Do you gentlemen, and I use that word in its loosest possible sense, have any comment? I scoped her out in my mirror. She sat in the middle of the back seat like a demi-god, steepling her fingers. Her nuanced demeanor hinting at a seam of wrong doing at CCP so repugnant and depraved, that it couldn’t even be mentioned.
I felt her sharp eyes eating into the back of my head. Beware the spook mind meld! I sucked back a breath, and twisted in my seat to get eye contact over the top of my shades.
She knew.
She had found out about the dead girl.
My mind raced. How far did her knowledge extend? More importantly how had she found out? The cops? It had to be the cops, maybe not, but who? The possibilities swam through my head, jostling for supremacy.
I remained calm. The spook-squad are everywhere, all pervasive. It was only a matter of time before the government found out about the dead girl. Things looked bad, no doubt about that, but things could get worse, much worse. Time to take control.
‘I don’t know where you are getting your information Ellen,’ I breezed cheerfully. ‘CCP is guilty of nothing, but an untiring commitment to the protection of government assets, including yourself.’
The Senator raised an eyebrow. ‘Your loyalty is to be commended Mr. Costello. I value your expertise. But your extra curricular activities are threatening the covert nature of my departments business and that cannot be allowed to happen. ‘Do you have anything to add Mr. Russell?’ she asked, her voice laced heavy with sarcasm.
A sound issued from deep inside Joe. It sounded like a tank changing gear. ‘You don’t want to hear what I got to say about East-coast coffee-room tittle-tattle, lady,’ he barked.
Positano swiveled towards him. ‘So you do have an opinion Mr. Russell. I took your silence for ignorance, or stupidity.
‘You listen to me Lady,’ growled Joe. ‘We got a team of good people here, been putting the hours in on this job. You think you can do better, then good luck to you, ’cos let me tell you, we are the best in the business.’ Joe sat impassive, a solitary crease forged deeply across his brow. I noticed Joe’s right fist gently clenching and unclenching.
A slow smile edged thinly across Positano’s face. She had gotten the rise she wanted, she knew she had us on the ropes and now she would make the death lunge. Suddenly the poisonous sweetness was back. ‘Really, Mr. Russell, you are even more of an unreconstructed Neanderthal than I imagined.’ The Senator’s face twisted happily, with perverse and sinister pleasure.
Joe pursed his lips thoughtfully and gave a casual half shrug. ‘Neanderthal? That’s cute, but I got news for you lady, I don’t frighten easily.’
‘Whether you scare easily or not, is immaterial Mr. Russell. The US Department of Defense will not tolerate scandal, or insubordination. And it appears you and your partner are guilty of both.’ Ellen Positano raised an eyebrow archly. ‘I have to advise you Mr. Costello, that, unless you can facilitate a speedy resolution to the current situation you and your charming partner Mr. Russell are going to lose a multi-million dollar contract. Do I make myself clear?’ enunciating her words now with venomous precision.
‘Hey, what would we use another million dollars for anyway, the space under the stairs is full already,’ I said cheerfully.
THE SEX NET 18
The trip from the airport lasted minutes, but in the frigid silence that followed Senator Positano’s acid comments, the minutes dragged like hours. Losing out on the Senators business would kill our government contracts dead. The Federal government is a giant slavering beast, that moves as one. It protects it’s own and if Positano put the screws on CCP, it followed that the lumbering brute that protected her and gave us succor would withdraw its support. How long before the rest of our business fell away, in the aftermath of this fall from grace? My betting was not long, if Positano and her Deep Five handlers had anything to do with it. Their influence ran to the dark beating heart of government, where vengeance was swift and memory long. As we pulled into our office parking lot in Marina Del Rey, the beats of the Escalade’s turn indicator ticked past, like frozen heartbeats. We were in trouble. Big trouble.
We took the private lift to the fifth floor. Inez was waiting in the boardroom with Larry Miller CEO of Bell Attack Helicopters. Larry was an old friend of the family. He had known my Pops since airplanes had propellers. Larry didn’t need executive protection. He was a tough old coot, and could handle a gun like a pro, but his corporate insurance people insisted he needed help. They said it was necessary to fulfill their corporate kidnap criteria. What the hell, Larry was a billionaire after all, but quite who would want to kidnap a gun-toting senior citizen with a hair-trigger tolerance for both man and beast alike, was quite another matter. When we arrived in the boardroom Larry was kicking back in my high-backed swivel chair, his cowboy boots propped high on the mahogany conference table. He was wearing his famous fly-fishing vest and Marine issue combat pants. He saw us coming and raised a snappy Marine Corps salute, by way of a welcome. He looked cool and dangerous, like General Patton, but with a bigger cigar. His five-man team gathered around him, looking Special Forces scary, with haircuts to match. It was going to be some meeting. I hoped the Senator was in a mood to buy helicopters, or things might t
urn nasty.
I introduced The Senator. The pair had met before, but Positano was a stickler for formalities and I knew down-home courtesy would never go amiss with Larry, especially when he was brokering a multi-billion dollar business deal. I watched the legends meet: the King Kong of Attack Helicopters meets the Vampire-lady from Washington.
As I perused this momentous scene, Inez slid alongside me looking boardroom sexy, in a fetching pinstripe outfit. ‘Two cops called by: Cullen and Ramirez,’ she whispered, as I breathed in her perfume.
‘How thoughtful of them.’ I breezed. ‘They say what they wanted?’
I didn’t get to hear the answer, because the Senator saw us talking, she zoomed in on Inez, ‘Ms Santos, how nice to see you my dear,’ Then to me,’ So glad your assistant could join us Mr. Costello.’ Her lips offered an ironic twist of displeasure, a look designed to curdle the blood of underlings.
Inez acknowledged her, with an ingratiating smile, then turned to me sotto voce. ‘A couple of things she needs to know Costello,’ she hissed. ‘Firstly, I have a PhD. in law. Secondly I am a senior partner at this firm, not an “assistant” and last, but by no means least, I am not that bitches dear.’
‘That’s three things,’ I whispered. ‘But we got more to worry about right now. What did the cops want?’
‘They wanted to speak with Joe. They said they would be back soon and that is going to be a problem Danny. Those cops make a scene in front of our clients and we will look like amateurs.’
‘Not to worry,’ I said pulling Inez aside, ‘I got a plan.’
She gave me a furrowed look, ‘I do not like the sound of that Costello.’
‘No? Well this is the way it is going to work. We let the Larry and the Senator run through the preliminaries here, then we whisk them, down town to The Staples Centre. The Lakers are playing The Celtics this afternoon, the biggest game of the season so far. Then afterwards, we throw in dinner at the Lexus Club. Make their trip to LA a CCP experience that they will want to sell to their associates, rather than just another billion-dollar business meet.
‘The executive suite?’
‘Naturally the executive suite. Corporate entertainment is what makes the world revolve. I told Jerry Buss we were coming. Larry is one of his old poker buddies, they have known each other for years, so maybe Jerry will throw in a locker room meet with the teams?
‘Wait a second Costello, Larry knows Jerry Buss, the owner of the Lakers?
‘Hey, billionairesville is a small town to hide in.’
‘What about scheduling?’
‘Don’t worry about scheduling. I already ran the idea past Larry and the Senator. When it comes to the NBA you would be surprised how flexible corporate schedules can be.’
‘Inez gave me a hard look, you telling me the Senator is a Lakers fan?’
‘Hell no. She went to Harvard. She is Bostonian through to the Irish core, you kidding me?’
‘Figures, whispered Inez spiffily.’
I smiled indulgently. ‘As for Larry, the man is basketball crazy. But when I told him Jerry was up for a game of poker, that cinched the deal.’
Inez made approving noises. The word genius may have been used—it certainly should have been—but Inez, unlike the Senator, was not the world’s greatest basketball fan. In fact, she regarded CCP’s sports junkets as a security risk. Some people just never stop worrying.
I on the other hand, regarded IRS approved sports events, as a legitimate tax write-off that were essential to the CCP business model. At least that’s what I told my accountant, when she queried our six figure expenses claims. So the trip to see the Lakers–Celtics game was settled. A smooth move on my part, or so I thought. We left the room, as our clients settled down to their negotiations. It was then that, I was forced to brief Inez, on one more operational detail, that I just knew she wasn’t going to like, her furry nemesis Chowsey the Chow. I told her that the little terror was my bring-to-work buddy. I told her that for security reasons I had to temporarily house the little brute in her office. I was right. She wasn’t impressed.
‘You mean you got that mutt locked up in my office? You got to be kidding me,’ snapped Inez. ‘That dog is a menace, have you any idea how much damage it will do. I got things in there—personal things—have you no sense at all Costello?’
‘Hey, I couldn’t lock him in my office. Max has issues with dish-mop dogs. You think my mom would forgive me if my puppy used Ratso-the-rabid for a chew-toy? Inez scrutinized me suspiciously. I told her to trust me—said that she would like the outcome.’
Inez narrowed her eyes. ‘What do you mean Costello?’
I told her my plan.
A slow smile edged its way into the corners of her mouth. Are you going to drag the little brute to the kennels like I said you should?
‘That’s momma’s little angel you are talking about,’ I pouted, ‘I was hoping…’
‘Not a chance Costello, Ratso is your problem.’ Her scowl softened. ‘You promise you won’t leave that dog in my office again?’
I looked solemn, ‘I swear upon my honor.
THE SEX NET 19
Chowsey sat in Inez’s office watching the shopping channel, on a small, portable television. The analgesic effect of hard sell consumerism had the tiny Chow staring saucer-eyed at the screen. The tiny dog emitted only the briefest and gruffest of snarls when I peeked into the room. There were no visible signs of damage, so I hurried to my office.
I have a great office, big leather chairs, chairman of the board desk and a view across the ocean to Malibu. With a view like that, it is a miracle I get work done most days. As I rolled in my door, Inez was, flipping doggie treats to Max. He sat alert, at the end of the desk, catching the snacks mid-flight then bolting them down, greedily.
‘Behold, Max Costello has a party piece,’ I observed dryly, ‘Could you not feed him between meals Inez, it plays havoc with his digestive routine.’
‘How does he, catch them in the air like that?’ asked Inez.
‘Faultless muzzle-eye coordination; insatiable inbred greed, and he is a sucker for impressing the girls,’ I said.
‘Takes after you and Joe,’ said Inez, ‘in fact, now you mention it, I am impressed you are not in jail,’ she quipped brightly. ‘But give it time, I am sure the cops will catch up with you and Joe knuckle head eventually.’
‘Cops love me,’ I retorted, ‘It’s the Costello charm.’
‘Yeah, right—how could they resist. So what now?’
‘I am glad you asked that, because this whole horrible mess revolves around the disappearance of the Cabrillo girl and the question of whether or not she has helped herself to a certain gangsters diamonds.
Inez let out a long sigh and threw Max another snack, ‘You will never find her Costello even if she is alive she is probably half way to Switzerland now.’
I raised an eyebrow, ‘Never is not an option I am prepared to entertain.’
‘No shit Sherlock. So you run all over Hollywood, trying to track down the beauty therapist, in the insane hope she might drop you some information that will lead to the arrest, incarceration and possibly untimely death of one of her oldest friends.’
‘Something like that—except with far more panache.’
‘For the record, that charm and panache bullshit won’t get you past first base. What makes you think she will spill her world to you Costello?’
‘Let’s have a think shall we? Her sister has been murdered. Her best friend is missing. Her flat has been ransacked and she is hiding out in Hollywood—oh, and they killed her cat.
‘They killed her cat? That’s horrible.’
‘Exactly.’
‘But how are you going to find her Costello, there’s no time. We got the meet with Larry and the Senator to conclude and it’s Friday remember, you have to pick up the girls from school, or Kimberly will pop a gasket.’
I smiled, waggled my keyboard fingers in the air and said, ‘Just as soon as you have finishe
d yapping, I am going to run the answer phone numbers on the computer. We will have the addresses in no time.
‘Are you sure that is legal Danny?’
‘A legal grey area certainly.’ I made big with my eyes. ‘Do you think those bad policemen will throw me in prison?’
‘Very possibly,’ said Inez.
Max barked agreement.
‘You two have no faith: zip, zero, nada.’ my fingers rattled across the keyboard, with a flurry of rapid-fire keystrokes. Addresses began scrolling down the screen. ‘We are in!’
‘You are in,’ corrected Inez. In trouble.’
‘They don’t call me ‘Mr. Dangerous’ for nothing,’ I said. ‘I survived a hail of bullets before breakfast, information theft is nothing, compared to that.’
‘Well, “Mr. Dangerous” I hope you will be taking your mom’s mini-mutt with you, on your little Hollywood adventure, because there is absolutely no way you are leaving it to prowl around my office all afternoon.
‘What if you have burglars?’
‘If that extremely unlikely eventuality arises I have a Glock 17 in my desk.’
‘You have a gun—at the office?’
‘We live in dark times Costello.’
‘I’m not sure I approve.’
‘Hark at you, “Mr. Dangerous.”’
‘You are not going to let me forget about that particular gag are you?’
‘Probably not.’
‘Well I hope you can manage to hold the fort here, because I have business to attend to.’
‘You are kidding me Costello. I get to organize tea and biscuits for the VIP’s while you run around town and do cool stuff?
I gave her a look over the top of my sunglasses. ‘I will be back for the game.’
‘Sure you will, now get the hell out of here, and leave me dog sitting again.’ She tried her best to look petulant, but just couldn’t pull it off. The girl was an amateur when it came to martyrdom, but incredibly attractive with it. I paused—debating whether or not now would be a good time to ask her to dinner. Split-second judgment told me no.
