I picked up some bars of soap and a hand towel. To anyone watching from security, it would simply look like a guest who needed more toiletries and helped themselves. I laughed thinking about the conversation that would evolve around it. Man in tuxedo raids maid’s cart.
Around the corner, the maid’s singing, if you wanted to call it that, could still be heard. She had built up to the chorus line and should she have ever auditioned for American Idol when Simon Cowell was judging, he’d say, are you serious.
I slipped into the public washroom, dumped the toiletries into the garbage receptacle, and slipped into the large stall on the end. I pulled out the card reader/writer and my smartphone. I took a blank card from another pocket and brought up the needed application and changed the direction to “write card.” The lights turned yellow, and I had just been granted access to every room of The Grandeur for the cost of an app and a card writer.
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Chapter 9
NIAGARA FALLS, NEW YORK
FRIDAY, JUNE 11TH, AFTER 3 PM
THE TIMING COULDN’T HAVE BEEN MORE PERFECT. With Governor Behler not being able to check-in to her suite yet, and with her room having being cleaned, it afforded me the perfect timeframe to get in and do what I needed to do. I still had at least another hour before Behler could access her room.
The hallway on the twentieth floor was silent. I didn’t hear anyone in the rooms as I made my way down to number 838. I noticed the security cameras and made sure I was never facing them directly.
I stopped in front of the room and took a deep breath. Moving forward from this point would make all this real. No longer would it be two-dimensional as played out in my mind.
I pulled out the key card and slid it into the card pass. It hesitated and then displayed red lights. Maybe I had done something wrong?
I tried again. The lights on the lock flashed green this time, and I turned the handle. As I walked into a room that wasn’t mine, it felt like a betrayal of someone else’s space even though that person hadn’t claimed it yet. At the minimum, I knew I wasn’t supposed to be here. But I didn’t have a choice. I needed to go through with the assassination if I didn’t want to risk losing my family for good. I lifted my sunglasses to my head and walked around the suite checking out the different rooms.
The door opened to a living area with a matching creamy-gray leather loveseat and chair and a black oak coffee table. Red drapes hung from bulky rods and were paired with white vertical blinds. A large flat screen TV sat on a credenza that matched the table. There was a phone at the end of it.
To the left of the entry was a wet bar with a bar fridge beneath the counter. A coffee pot and serving tray with mugs and sugar packets sat beside it.
To the right, a double-wide door led into the master bedroom. The door trim was also black oak as were the other wood elements in the suite. At the far end of the room was a stately fireplace with another large screen TV mounted above it. There was an ensuite bathroom with double sinks and large mirrors and brushed silver fixtures.
I slipped on a pair of gloves and went back to the phone in the main sitting area. I pulled out a small recording device with an unlimited range of transfer. It was connected to yet another app on my smartphone and permitted me to hear everything.
I placed one on every phone and by count there were three—one in the main sitting area, one in the bedroom, and one in the bathroom.
My heart raced within me just thinking about what I was preparing to do. With the devices in place, I would know what I was up against and whether the Governor traveled alone. I would discover the best way to take her down.
With the latter thought, my family tapped at my numbing conscience. I couldn’t allow them back into my line of thought. As long as I was in Niagara Falls, I had no family. I had nothing to lose. To admit to anything else would only weaken my resolve and make room for error. I had never failed in the past. I had no intention of starting now.
I put my sunglasses back in place and left the room. I found a stairwell at the end of the north hallway. It was located further from the Governor’s suite than the elevators, but it could prove to be a viable option I might have to utilize.
But for right now, there was nothing to do but wait.
I WENT BACK TO THE Oasis and ordered in a fresh pie topped with everything from double meat to fresh veggies. I pulled out a bottle of Scotch from my travel bag and settled in for the night. I’d need my rest to carry out what I needed to do tomorrow. Tonight would simply be about establishing direction and listening to everything that came through from the Governor’s room. I needed to find out her plans for tomorrow so that I knew when best to strike.
Nothing was coming through, and by seven, I worried that something had gone wrong with the bugs I had planted. Had they been found by her security? Maybe her traveling bodyguard was more diligent than most hired monkeys.
I doubled checked the app, and it appeared to be online. I had placed it on the nightstand beside me with speakers attached to it. It was ready to record anything that went on in that room. I turned the volume up on the tube television. Between the light buzz provided by the Scotch and lack of surround sound, I found it hard to hear. At the same point, I didn’t want to overpower the phone and miss anything that came through from the Governor’s room either.
“Yes, I’m here now.”
The voice came through beside me, and I quickly muted the television.
The clock read ten thirty.
“…seven tomorrow. Don’t be late. I can’t stand tardiness.” The Governor’s voice held a serious tone to it.
She was with someone, or at the very least planned on meeting up with someone. This may require an adjustment to my plans. The conversation she carried on was one sided which meant she must have been on a phone call.
She didn’t say anything else for hours. And even though I made myself stay awake, all I could hear was her soft snores. I made sure it was still recording and turned the light out. I needed rest myself. I would review everything in the morning.
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Chapter 10
NIAGARA FALLS, NEW YORK
SATURDAY, JUNE 12TH, 8:30 AM
THE CURTAINS OF THE ROOM did little for keeping out the morning sunlight. My back felt broken in several spots from where the bed impressed its springs like a horrible form of acupuncture. I rose to my feet and stretched.
Nothing was coming through the speakers, but the app was still recording. I’d have hours to study it and plan my next step.
The clock read eight thirty.
Right now I needed coffee. I went over to the machine in the room to find two mugs, one filter, and a little sign that read, COFFEE A BUCK A PACK. What motel charged for coffee and didn’t leave any in the room?
Shit!
I needed one badly. I hardly slept at all between the bed and the reoccurring flashbacks to my last kill.
Names weren’t important, but I still knew them—for each one of my marks. My last was Bob Riley. He couldn’t make good on his gambling bets at Russo’s racetrack. His extension had expired, and I was sent in to finish him off.
When I went into Bob’s apartment, one he kept for screwing his mistress, he barely clung to life. Russo had sent in the heavy hitters to break his jaw, his nose, his kneecaps, and both of his wrists. The work had taken place over several hours of torture. I never understood why they didn’t just take care of it themselves.
Bob was drifting in and out from the pain, but when he heard my footsteps on the floorboards, his eyes opened wide. I raised the gun and took him out with one bullet between the eyes before he had a chance to scream.
But broken bones weren’t Bob’s only means of torture. His tongue had been cut out as a message to other deadbeats—spoken promises meant nothing. He also had the words TSK TSK carved into his chest with a knife.
I found out later Chris
tian had killed the rest of his family, including his wife and two children at their house in the city. I knew then that there was nothing Christian wasn’t capable of. When he had extended the job to me, he presented it as a night of entertainment.
Bob’s eyes mingled with Christian’s in my nightmares last night. This kill would be a lot smoother. This was the type of thing I had been trained for. This type of kill was what I possessed a natural ability for. I didn’t have a problem getting close to my marks. Most killers preferred to keep a distance. I would rather be up close.
“Rick, ensure my reservation at Casa Grande.”
I moved back to the bed. The Governor was up and giving directions. Rick was possibly one of her bodyguards. She had a few of them and I didn’t know them all on a per name basis.
I pulled the phonebook from the nightstand. Casa Grande was a restaurant specializing in fine Italian cuisine. Based on her comments last night about meeting someone at seven, and now mention of the restaurant, I knew right where to find the Governor tonight. I smiled. I would have another chance to wear my tux.
Nothing much else came through, and when I heard a door close followed by silence, I figured she had left her suite.
I dialed the front desk of The Oasis and got the man who had signed me in yesterday as easily disclosed by the eh at the end of his sentence.
Minutes later, there was a knock on my door. “Coffee’s here.” It was the older ex-Canadian. I started to wonder if anyone else worked here. The man stood in the doorway exhibiting a body language that read he would have stepped into the room if I gave him an inch.
“One buck.” He moved his head to the side trying to look around me.
I exchanged a five dollar bill for the coffee packet. “Keep the change.” I went to close the door.
“That’s a nice tux you have, Mister?”
The word Mister came out arched as if he was fishing for a name. “Thank you.” I closed the door. Only then did I pick up on the fact that he had seen me in the tux yesterday. Hopefully, nothing more would be thought of it.
I took my coffee black, which turned out to be a good thing seeing as there were no whitener packs, sugar or sweetener in the room and the man hadn’t brought any with him.
My first mouthful of the brew was offensive, but I forced myself to swallow it. It was caffeine. And that was something I desperately needed. I stopped the recording and played back what I had missed while I had been sleeping.
“Don’t worry. Everything will be taken care of. I promise you that.” It was only the Governor’s voice again, and I surmised another telephone call. She continued, “…everything will be taken care of…yes, tonight—”
There was a loud banging on my door. I hit pause on the feedback. What the hell was it now?
I looked through the peephole and opened the door a few inches. “What is it?”
“Four more packets of coffee. You gave me five bucks, eh?” The older man smiled.
I pulled the card that hung inside on the door knob, opened the door further, took the coffee from him, slapped the DO NOT DISTURB sign in place, and shut the door. “Good day.”
Now back to the recording. I hit play.
“…Talbot will listen to me. Yes, tomorrow night…don’t worry I have everything with me.”
Talbot? That was the Governor of New York state.
“I have everything under control. I will update you once it’s done.”
Nothing more was said until this morning when I heard her direct Rick to confirm a reservation. Before that, I heard a running shower and CNN.
I stared into my coffee, deep in thought. What would the Governor of Michigan have to do with the Governor of New York? And what exactly did she have under control?
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Chapter 11
NIAGARA FALLS, NEW YORK
SATURDAY, JUNE 12, 6:45 PM
“WELCOME TO CASA GRANDE.” The maître d’ braced his hands on the walnut podium that held a desk light and his reservation schedule. “Name, sir?”
I pulled out a hundred dollar bill and passed it to him. “I trust that should be sufficient.”
He looked down to the bill, and when he noticed its value, his thin lips pressed upward. “Table for one?”
I nodded.
“One moment.” He held a bony finger up in the air and left his station for a few seconds. He returned with a smile. “Table for one. Right this way. Please follow me.”
Aromas of garlic, sautéed onions, and tomato-based sauces saturated the restaurant. My stomach tossed at the smells. As I followed the maître d’, I scanned the restaurant. I noticed the back of a man whose head resembled photographs I had seen of the New York Governor. He was balding on the crown.
I addressed the host, “Is that Governor Talbot?”
He smiled with pride. “Yes, sir. We are honored to have him here tonight.” He caught himself. “As we are honored to have you.” He gestured to a table set for two. “Will this be acceptable?”
The table was a good twenty feet from where the Governor sat but provided a clear line of sight. I nodded, and the maître d’ pulled out a chair for me.
I didn’t see any sign of Behler, but I had arrived fifteen minutes early. I had been right in piecing the bits of the Governor’s conversations together. She had told Governor Talbot not to be late, and he seemed to have kept to her directions.
The man lifted his glass and turned to glance to his right. He seemed to be looking straight at me, but his eyes passed through me. His expression revealed he wasn’t impressed to be here and something told me this meeting wasn’t his idea.
His drink was of amber color, and he had drunk a good portion of it. So either he had arrived a lot earlier or drank quickly to suppress nerves. Based on the way his hand clutched the glass, he wasn’t ready to release it any time soon.
Not that it would make sense that he’d be nervous about meeting with a colleague. Then Behler’s words that had replayed several times in my mind throughout the day reiterated once again, I will make him listen to me.
I had noticed her before he did. Governor Behler came in from his left, toting a leather satchel over an arm. She wore a simple, black straight line dress that fell just below the knee. Her slender figure complemented the fabric, which draped on her frame elegantly. I guessed the outfit as designer.
For a woman of fifty-six, she could have pulled off ten years younger than that. Her makeup was always tastefully applied. She kept her auburn hair trimmed short just below the jaw line.
She approached the table and when Governor Talbot noticed her arrival, she flashed him a political smile—one she typically reserved for election time. This meeting wasn’t a cordial event. Talbot rose to greet her and shook her hand. She took a seat.
“May I get you something to drink?” The waitress’s question pulled me from my observations.
“Just a glass of water.”
“Perrier with lime? Or without—”
“Just a glass of water.”
The waitress nodded, but her eyes gave away her conflict. She might not be getting a large tip from the man in the Armani tux.
My attention went back to the Governors. No one around them seemed to cast them a second glance. In fact it seemed most people did their best to avoid looking in their direction at all. I knew I should hang back and keep a distance, but curiosity got the best of me. I wanted to know the reason why the two Governors, from different states, would meet privately like this. From my understanding, Governor Talbot was a married man. His children were grown. I most certainly didn’t sense any sexual chemistry between the two of them. This wasn’t an affair.
Behler had a glass of champagne brought to the table, and she flashed another one of those insincere smiles to the staff. She lifted her satchel from the floor beside her and pulled a phone out of it. Talbot tossed back the rest
of his drink and signaled for a refill from a passing waitress.
I watched Behler’s face. Whatever she showed him on her phone was of relative seriousness. The face she typically reserved for the voting public had disappeared. When she spoke, each word seemed pressured to come out.
“Have you decided what you would like to eat?” My waitress was back.
“Another few minutes.” I dismissed her with a wave of a hand.
I needed to get closer to them to figure out what was going on. I knew that the notion was insanity. I had one objective when it came to the Governor. My debate over getting closer to what was transpiring was absurd. And foolish. And careless.
I scanned the restaurant and noticed the signs for the washroom were behind my table. When I turned back to look at the Governors’ table, Talbot’s refill had been delivered, and he already had the glass pressed to his lips. The other hand that didn’t hold the glass was balled into a fist on the table.
I drank the rest of my water as if it would somehow provide the strength and courage to approach them. I swallowed the logic that dictated I stay away from her and just get the job done later tonight. What they discussed didn’t matter. I didn’t need the Governor to gain access to her room. I just needed to hang back and wait for them to appear finished with their meal. I would beat her back to her suite and be waiting there. Before she had a chance to sense my threat, she’d be dead, and just prior to that, she’d know the reason why.
DETROIT, MICHIGAN
BRENDA REFUSED TO LET HER anger show to the children, but with Ray’s cell constantly forwarding to voicemail, it became harder to hide. She slammed the receiver back to the cradle.
“Holy crap, Mom.” Yvonne walked through to the kitchen.
“Don’t speak to me like that.”
“Well, you’ve been a bitch—”
“Watch your mouth!” She would never tolerate her daughter speaking to her like that. And if Ray had been here, Yvonne would be happy to see the light of day. He believed strongly in grounding them for disciplinary measures. Brenda never agreed as to the effectiveness. The kid had everything she needed from the outside world in that room. There was, however, one effective means to mete out correction to a fourteen-year-old.
Assassination of a Dignitary Page 5
