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Sins of the Fatherland (Scott Jarvis Investigations Book 6)

Page 14

by Scott Cook


  “No!” Juan said, “You?”

  “Si!” I barked, “Help Hank into la casa, I’ll try and draw their fire!”

  A hand gun against a rifle was not a good match. So far, though, the shooter hadn’t been very accurate. Of course, he was sitting in a boat, but still…

  I turned my head and could see the rowboat had closed the distance by more than half. Maybe forty yards, maybe fifty… not great for a pistol, but I hardly had a choice.

  I belly crawled closer to the other side of the dock and slid my gun out. The railing was picket style, with frequent uprights between two horizontal rails that connected to elegant posts. Beneath the bottom railing was a six inch open space. I racked the slide, clicked off the safety and extended my arm and emptied my magazine at the boat. I used slow and methodical pulls on the trigger, dragging out my ten shots as long as I could and giving Juan enough time to haul the elderly man to his feet and get to some kind of cover.

  When I pulled the trigger for the tenth time, I rolled sideways to the other side of the dock. The deck planks where I’d been laying erupted into splinters.

  I ejected the empty mag and shoved another into the grip. By now, I could see that Juan was practically carrying Lambert and they’d made it off the dock and onto the paver path that led to the house.

  I leapt to my feet and began side running, firing in the general direction of the boat as I went. I wasn’t too worried about the man with the rifle homing in on me. My shots weren’t anywhere near accurate, but they did have the effect of forcing the man to duck.

  By the time my magazine was empty, I was off the dock and I low ran across the yard and through the sliding glass doors and into the living room.

  Juan had placed Lambert in an easy chair close to the kitchen. The old man was huffing a bit and his face was flushed but he wore a reassuring smile on his lined face.

  “Goddamn, son!” he whooped, “That got the old ticker going!”

  “Juan, any weapons in the house?” I asked.

  “I got an old Remington 700,” Lambert said, “Juan knows where it is.”

  “Go get it, amigo,” I said to Juan as I dug another magazine from my hip pocket. It was my last one. I doubted that the two men in the boat would come ashore. Rifle or not, they’d be exposed out on the dock.

  That’s when I heard the sound of two car doors slamming out front. I cursed and made my way to the front door, “Mida! Watch the back, Juan! Hank, call Sharon Nolen!”

  As I passed him, I handed Lambert my phone. He started tapping away without any sign of confusion. This was one man who hadn’t let age dull him or make him complacent about adapting to new trends. Not for the first time I felt a surge of admiration.

  I got down low and risked a peek through the side light of the front door. Two men dressed in black and wearing stockings over their faces were headed for the front door. One held a big nasty looking revolver and the other a double-barreled shotgun.

  “Christ…” I groaned.

  The man with the scatter gun pointed it at the door and I rolled away just as the sidelight exploded and sprayed the foyer with safety glass. At the same time, a bowling-ball sized hole appeared in the heavy front door.

  “Ay dios mio!” Juan said from the back, “Senor Jarvis—“He pronounced it Yarvis, “—los pendejos are on the dock!”

  “Fuckin’ shoot em’ then!” I roared as I crab walked backwards away from the door to try and find some cover. When I got to the edge of the foyer, I stood and ducked around the corner as another double boom thundered and the front door knob and deadbolt went flying.

  There was another echoing crack as Hank’s high-powered rifle went off somewhere behind me.

  I poked my weapon around the corner and squeezed off three shots at the gaping holes. I heard swearing from out front and swore I also heard the sound of shoes pattering on concrete.

  “Juan!” I said, “Get senor Lambert upstairs!”

  Juan was lying on the tiled floor of the huge living room and aiming his rifle out toward the gazeebo. I could see the rowboat tied to the dock but not the two men who’d been in it.

  “They’re gone!” Juan said.

  “Good,” I replied, “Rapido, amigo! Take my gun and get Hank upstairs!”

  Juan squirmed back away from the open slider and got to his feet. I handed him my colt and he gave me the rifle and a small box of shells.

  “I’ve got seven shots left,” I said as I pushed him toward Hank and the stairs, “Hank, did you reach her?”

  “She’s on the way!” Hank said, tossing my phone back to me.

  As Juan and Lambert made their way up the curving staircase to the second floor, I duck walked back toward the front and got down low to peer through the bottom of the side light. The two men were gone. I couldn’t tell if their car was still in the drive, though.

  I waited for nearly a minute, constantly looking over my shoulder toward the back yard. All I needed was for somebody to come around the house or come in from the dock and put one in my ass.

  The sounds of sirens wailed and quickly drew closer. I rolled to my feet and crept back to stare out the back. Still no men. The boat was there, but no sign of the two guys who’d manned it.

  Within another minute or so, a squadron of prowl cars screeched to a halt in front of the house and eight uniformed Orlando cops began to encircle the property. Sharon made her way toward the front door, her 9mm at the ready.

  “Scott!” she called out.

  “Clear!” I shouted, “At least in here. There were four guys, two out front and two in back. Any signs?”

  Sharon pushed in the nearly demolished front door and treated me to a wry grin, “So who’d you piss off this time, Scotty-poo?”

  Chapter 14

  “Are you all right, Mr. Lambert?” Sharon asked as he and Juan came down the stairs.

  Juan handed me my gun and I gave him the rifle, which he leaned up against the fireplace.

  “A little excitement is all, young lady,” Lambert said with a grin, “Most interesting thing to happen around here in years.”

  Sharon smiled and wrote something down in her notebook, “Did either of you recognize any of these men?”

  “Never seen em’ before,” Lambert said.

  Juan just shrugged, “I only caught a… how do you say… a small look of the ones on the dock. I don’t know them.”

  “I’m the only one who saw the clowns out front,” I said, “And they were wearing stocking masks. Have any of your units located them yet?”

  Sharon frowned, “Not so far as I know.”

  “That’s weird,” I said, “The guys out front drove and the other two came in a rowboat… but they all vanished a couple of minutes before you got here… that seems almost impossible.”

  “I’ve sent two of the four prowlies out to cordon off the neighborhood entrances,” Sharon informed us, “And I’m calling in a couple more teams to canvas the area. I can’t believe we won’t find these guys.”

  I scowled, “I know… but I’ll lay money on it that you don’t. I think this was well-coordinated. Probably no prints in that dory out there.”

  Sharon frowned at that, “If it was so well-coordinated, or even professional… then how come any of you are alive?”

  “Because senor Yarvis reacted rapido… quickly, senora,” Juan put in.

  “Senorita,” Sharon smiled at him, “As he usually does, senor Fuente… but let’s face it… you’ve got one house man and one elderly man and only one guy with a weapon against four armed men who snuck up on you.”

  Lambert frowned at the elderly man remark. Sharon treated him to a brilliant smile that seemed to wash away any resentment.

  “If I were fifty years younger, detective,” Lambert said with a grin.

  Sharon chuckled, “You still couldn’t handle me, Mr. Lambert.”

  He laughed.

  “She’s got a point,” I said, “My superhero abilities notwithstanding… we were either damned lucky…”
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  “Or this wasn’t a hit,” Lambert finished.

  Sharon nodded, “It looks more like a scare tactic.”

  “With four men in broad daylight?” Juan asked and shook his head, “They had us in a… uhm… a…”

  He raised his hand and made a pinching motion with his thumb and forefinger. I eyed him more closely, wondering if he’d had any military experience.

  “A pincer,” Sharon helped him, “That’s true, senor Fuente—“

  “Juan,” he said with a smile that I’d bet got him a lot of mileage with the ladies.

  Sharon gave it back to him, “okay, Juan… do you have any military experience?”

  “Si,” He said, “I was in the army in Cuba.”

  “At any rate,” I continued, “Juan’s right. These guys had us dead to rights. They even managed to miss at fairly close range with a high-powered rifle. My guess is this was meant to scare Hank.”

  Lambert chuffed, “I ain’t a man scares easy, even at my age.”

  I grinned, “I’ve seen proof of that, Master Chief… but still.”

  “So who do you think was behind it?” Sharon asked me.

  “Jack Brody. I can’t imagine anybody else.”

  “But why?” Sharon asked. She looked at me askance. I knew that she wanted to know if it was okay to reveal the fact that I’d told her about the case. I nodded. She looked at Lambert, “Scott told me everything last night.”

  “I often use Sharon and another detective friend as sounding boards,” I told Lambert, “They’re absolutely trustworthy.”

  Lambert shrugged, “its okay. As to why, Ms. Nolen, I’d say to frighten me so I give him more information on that submarine he wants to find. Maybe he figures he rattles my cage enough and I’ll spill the beans.”

  Audrey Lambert rushed in through what was left of the front door, “Granddad! I got here as quickly as I could, are you okay?”

  Lambert stood and Audrey wrapped her arms around him. He patted her back, “Don’t work yourself up into a tizzy, honey. Your old granddad is no stranger to gun fire. I’m fine. House is gonna need a little remodeling… but I’m good.”

  She released him and spun on me with blazing eyes, “how could you let this happen?”

  I was more than a little taken aback. At first I was surprised but that quickly morphed into irritation, “Uhm… what? I didn’t let anything happen, Audrey. You might even say I prevented anything worse from happening.”

  “Prevented?” She asked, her hands on her hips, “You show up and minutes later, a couple of guys with guns just happen to try and kill my grandfather! What the—“

  “Audrey!” Lambert snapped. I think we were all surprised at the power of his voice. It was not the voice of a ninety-three year old man but that of a command Master Chief. A man who was used to being obeyed, “Stop it. Scott isn’t responsible for this. It’s that goddamned Brody. If he hadn’t been here, who knows what could’ve happened?”

  That leeched the wind from Audrey’s sails and she seemed to physically deflate. She drew in a breath and hung her head slightly, “I… dammit… you’re right, granddad. Scott, I’m sorry.”

  Sharon raised an eyebrow at me and I only shrugged. I wasn’t in the mood to argue the point, “one thing still bothers me. And that’s why Brody would do something like this… I mean, it’s pretty obvious that it was him. Who else could it be? So with that being said, there’s a pretty heavy finger pointed at him right now. Seems kind of stupid considering the potential gain.”

  Sharon rubbed her chin, “Good point…”

  “What do you mean?” Audrey asked.

  “Well, suppose he’s arrested for this,” I said, “his whole scheme might go up in smoke. It just seems counter-productive no matter how you look at it.”

  Lambert nodded, “I see your point. But Jack Brody is a hot head. He has no boundaries and likes to take risks.”

  “Admittedly,“ Sharon said, “If we don’t find the shooters or any real physical evidence to point to anyone… which is looking more and more likely…”

  “Then he gets away with it,” Audrey snapped, clenching her fists, “He attacks my grandfather and the cops can’t do a damned thing.”

  “Which just makes him even more confident,” I stated.

  “Ay dios mio…” Juan muttered, “Perhaps we should get the patron to a safer spot, no?”

  Sharon smiled at him, “Good thinking, Juan.”

  Lambert scoffed, “The hell you say! I ain’t being chased off’n my property just because of this!”

  “I think Juan is right,” I said to Lambert, “Keeping you here is just asking for trouble. Christ, you don’t even have a way to lock your front door… or what’s left of it.”

  “I ain’t leavin’,” Lambert said stubbornly and folded his arms across his chest.

  I groaned and Sharon chuckled, “Well, it’s either move him to a safe house someplace or post a couple of uniforms here for a while.”

  “That’ll be fine,” Lambert said, “They can even stay in the house. Got plenty of room.”

  “Patron,” Juan pleaded, “Is no safe here…”

  Lambert patted the young man’s arm, “I’ll be fine, son. You’re here and the lovely detective will post a couple of guys. Hell, it might mean she comes round a little more, if we’re lucky.”

  Lambert smiled and Juan blushed. I held in my amusement.

  Audrey heaved a sigh, “For God’s sake… you’re a stubborn, stubborn old man.”

  “Yep,” Lambert said proudly, “I never ran from nothin’ in my life, and I’m damned if I start today. Brody thinks he can shake me up, well as far as I’m concerned, he can kiss the fattest part of this sailor’s ass.”

  I snorted and turned away. Sharon giggled. Audrey glared at us for a second but couldn’t contain herself either and laughed, “Jesus… okay, you’re the boss, granddad.”

  “I’ve got a buddy who’s a contractor,” I offered, “Ex-marine. I’ll ask if he can come over and get that door and sidelight squared away, Master Chief.”

  “Appreciate that,” Lambert said, “Glad to give a veteran the business.”

  I walked into the ground floor master suite and called Clay. He said that he was free that afternoon and could come over and get the door situation knocked out before dark. When I came back out, a patrolman was speaking with Sharon.

  “So what now?” Audrey asked me.

  “I think it’s time to confront Brody,” I said, “If nothing else, it’ll be interesting to see his reaction.”

  “You think he’ll own up?” Lambert asked.

  I scoffed, “Not a chance. But it’s a start. Then I’m going to keep tabs on him. Follow him, go visit his boat, wherever that might be. I want him to know the pressure is on and that he’s under surveillance, too. Then I go back to the office and sweep for bugs. Then I start my plotting.”

  “Plotting?” Audrey asked.

  “Charts and bathymetry,” Lambert explained, “Scott is gonna try and plot out where the boats are before we go take a look.”

  Audrey smiled, “Well, I can help with the bugs. I can get the equipment to do an electro-magnetic sweep. I can even provide an electronic counter measure device to scramble any signals for the future.”

  “Great,” I said, “Let’s meet there around six or so. Gives me time to visit Foster and maybe Brody, if he’s still in town. I also need to go feed Morgan.”

  After the arrangements were made for Lambert’s police protection, I drove downtown and parked at my office. I didn’t go into the Richardson building, however. Instead, I walked down Central Avenue toward Lake Eola. On the south side of the lake was a modern glass-walled building that housed a variety of businesses. Among these were the palatial offices of Greg P. Foster Private Investigations.

  I entered the lobby of the Eola Park Business Center and took note of the open and airy space, the subdued lighting and the variety of spot lighted planters. The ceilings were two floors high and there was a sizable caf
eteria across from the elevator bank.

  “Must be nice,” I mused as I rode the elevator up to the tenth floor.

  Foster’s waiting room had a huge wall of glass that overlooked Lake Eola Park. I studied it for a moment before the receptionist, a pleasantly plump woman in her early forties looked up at me.

  “Good afternoon, sir,” she said, “May I help you?”

  “I’d like to see the big man, please,”

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “I do not,”

  “I’m sorry, but Mr. Foster is unavailable at the moment,” She replied with professional disdain.

  “Miss… Veronica,” I said, laying on the charm and my renowned concrete cracker smile, reading the name plate on her desk, “This is of vital import. Would you call into his office and tell him Jarvis is here.”

  Her slight frown was an admirable if futile attempt to resist, but picked up her phone, “Yes, Mr. Foster. A Mr. Jarvis is asking to see you… yes… yes, sir, I’ll tell him.”

  “Did he ask you to send me his love?”

  She smiled politely but I could tell it took an effort, “he’s unavailable right now but if you can come back a little after three, he’ll clear some time for you.”

  I thought for a moment about barging in. I’m not sure what that’d get me, but whatever it was it probably wouldn’t get me very far. I decided to err on the side of caution.

  “I shall abate the very breath within until next we meet,” I charmed.

  She cocked an eyebrow and went back to her computering. A fine actress, obviously.

  It was a little after one, so I decided to head back to my house, grab Morgan and go have lunch someplace where doggies were preferred. I drove across town and into my small neighborhood and into the garage of my small house.

  The day was beautiful, for February. Clear blue skies and a temperature hovering close to seventy. Perhaps Pupson and I would repair to the closest canine-centric outdoor recreational facility and enjoy a game of toss and retrieve.

  I’d do most of the tossing and he’d do most of the retrieving as was our want.

  I went through the house and out onto the porch. I’d left him outside that morning so he could be free to roam and poo at his leisure. My screened porch was about twenty-five feet by twelve feet and had two doors at either end. For some reason, these weren’t screen doors but instead had two panels, the bottom of which could be opened. This left a big enough space for Morgan to come in and out. I had a nice comfy outdoor bed for him near the French doors along with adequate water.

 

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