Mr Grimm

by Gary Winston Brown

  Otto opened the door and eased himself into the back seat of the cab.

  “Where to?” the driver asked.

  “Manhattan,” Otto replied.

  “You sure?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “A trip that far is gonna cost you a small fortune.”

  “I’m good for it.”

  The cabbie smiled. “Works for me. It’ll take us a few minutes to get out of here though. Tons of cops around. Something’s going down.”

  Otto thought of Lacey… the sweetness of her voice, the perfection of her body, how she was the one for whom he had been searching for so long.

  “You okay, man?” the cabbie asked.

  It was then Otto realized he had fallen. He lay slumped against the door. He straightened up, looked ahead.

  “Fine,” he replied. “Just drive.”

  CHAPTER 19

  ON THE RETURN TRIP from Brooklyn to Manhattan, Mike Degario took the private investigator’s call. “Thanks, Ray. I appreciate your help,” he said. He glanced at Anton. “That was my buddy. He called in a marker at NYPD and got you the info on the Bentley. Plate comes back to a guy by the name of Otto Schreiber.”

  “Where do I find him?”

  “What do you mean, you? We’re a team now, buddy. It’s obvious this guy’s too dangerous for you to track down on your own. Which means you inherited a new partner. Namely, me.”

  “I can’t let you do that, Mikey. You’ll get hurt.”

  “You have no choice in the matter. I’m in. So’s Russ. He called earlier. I brought him up to speed on the situation. Had to. He was ready to fire your ass for leaving the club without notice. He’s assembling a team to help find Lacey. You know how heavily connected he is. He ordered me to drive you back to the Odyssey to tell him everything you know about what’s happened to Lacey. We’ll track her down together. Everyone in the club loves that girl, not just you.”

  “Thanks, Mike.”

  “We’re gonna get her back, Anton. I promise.”

  Anton stared out the passenger window of the limousine. Block by block, the city flashed by. He offered no reply.

  “One more thing,” Mike said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Russ said to tell you he’ll see that whoever took Lacey is properly dealt with. Sonofabitch is gonna regret the day he was born.”

  “She’s in deep trouble, Mike. I can feel it. You know the club rules: unless it’s you driving her home, no dancer catches a ride until I’ve checked the driver’s ID before she gets in the car. I messed up big time.”

  “It was Lacey,” Degario reminded him. “You never think straight when she’s around.”

  “She’ll never forgive me for letting this happen to her.”

  “All right, big man,” Mike said. “That shit ends now. Lacey’s a big girl. And this pick up was off the books. She’s had bad dates in the past. There was nothing you could have done about those either.”

  “I know.”

  “The guy one-up’d you. Deal with it. Move on and never let it happen again. You’re gonna have a small army on your side soon. You should have heard the anger in Russ’ voice. When we find this guy, he’s as good as dead. And if we’re going to do that, you need to have your head in the game. Got it?”

  Anton nodded. “Yeah, I got it.”

  “Good. Now tell me what you know about him so far.”

  “Not much. Five-foot ten, maybe one-eighty. Blue hoodie, jeans and a backpack. I got off a round. I’m pretty sure it caught him in the shoulder.”

  “You shot him?”

  “I shot at him. He hit me damn hard. With a baseball bat, I think.”

  “You’re lucky he didn’t kill you.”

  “He should have.”

  “Age?”

  “Don’t know. His back was turned. I only glimpsed his face. If I had to guess I’d say mid-thirties.”

  “Any idea why he was there?”

  Anton shook his head. “No clue. A stalker, perhaps. Lacey had one last year, remember?”

  “You mean the guy you put in the hospital?”

  “He fell.”

  “Sure he did.” Mike smiled. “Right into your fist.”

  “He was in her dressing room going through her things when she walked in on him. I heard her scream and responded. Simple as that.”

  “That was one hell of a response. As I recall, you broke three fingers on his right hand and his wrist.”

  “It could have been worse.”

  “For him or for you?”

  “I don’t particularly take too well to a guy coming at me with a knife. He got in a good swipe. Caught me in the arm. I think I may have gone a little nuts on him after that.”

  “Punctured lung, a dislocated shoulder, busted knee cap, shattered orbital bone… did I miss anything?”

  Anton smirked. “A broken nose and three fractured ribs.”

  “I still say he got off easy,” Mike replied. “You saved Lacey’s life that night. You know that, right? Remember what the cops said?”

  Anton nodded. “They found an abduction kit in his car. Duct tape, rope, three more knives.”

  “And that if you hadn’t taken him out when you did they were sure he would have killed her.”

  “I was just doing my job.”

  “Baloney. You don’t believe that for a second.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re meant to be in Lacey’s life.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re her guardian angel, pal. Only live and in the flesh.”

  “You’re not going to go all existential on me now, are you?”

  “Hey man, the facts are the facts. We’re all interconnected. Call it a spirit thing or whatever. But we all play a role in each other’s lives, some bigger than others. Yours is to protect Lacey. How else do you explain it?”

  “Explain what?”

  “That this is the second time you’ve come to her defense when someone’s tried to harm her. It could have been anyone, but it wasn’t. It was you.”

  “I’ve done nothing to help her yet.”

  “You mean besides trying to track her down and taking a baseball bat to the head for your troubles? I’d say that kind of qualifies.”

  “You’re being dramatic,” Anton said. “Can’t you just pass the time talking about sports like a normal person?”

  “Admit it, tough guy. The two of you are meant to be together.”

  “What if that’s for a bad reason and not a good one? What if I’m drawing danger to her instead of protecting her?”

  “I’m not buying it. You’re too much of a goody-goody. Besides, Lacey is nuts about you.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “You don’t believe me? Ask Shona-Lee. All Lacey does is talk about you.”

  “She does?”

  “From the second she walks into the club. She’s got the hots for you, man.”

  Anton smiled. The news lifted his spirits. “Where are we headed?”

  “Back to the Odyssey. We need to meet with Russ.”

  “Did this private investigator get an address when he ran the plate?”

  “Of course.”

  “Did it come back to a business or a private residence?”

  “Business. Why?”

  “Then that’s where we’re going.”

  “But Russ made it clear—”

  “I don’t give a damn what Russ said,” Anton said sharply. “Lacey is our priority. For all we know the guy is going after her right now. We need to check out that address. What’s the name of the company?”

  “Kessel’s Bookbinding and Restoration.”

  “Then that’s where we’re going.”

  Degario sighed. “Okay. Just do me a favor?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Say something nice about me at my funeral, because Russ is gonna kill me for doing this.”

  “I’ll handle Russ,” Anton replied. “Just step on it.”

&n
bsp; CHAPTER 20

  AROUND THE CORNER from the Odyssey Gentlemen’s Club, the agents found the domicile of the man Shona-Lee Cairns referred to as Father Frank Who Lives Under the Bridge. More to the point, Father Frank found them standing several feet in front of Biscuit. The snarling German Shepherd was wound up, hackles raised, standing his ground, in full defense mode, ready to protect his shanty home and master from the unannounced visitors. Agent Penner opened his jacket and placed his hand on his gun.

  “That would be just about the worst thing you could do right now,” Father Frank said. “Biscuit here is ex-military, like me. He knows guns. Given the three feet between you and him, the second I give the word he’ll have torn your hand from that gun before you even come close to releasing the holster lock.”

  Penner took his hand off the Glock, showed the man his open hands. “Nice doggy,” he said. He placed his hands on his hips. “I’m not a fan of dogs,” he said.

  “That’s fine,” Father Frank said. “Biscuit doesn’t appear to be overly thrilled to meet you either. And I find him to be an excellent judge of character.” He looked the agents up and down. “Just who the hell are you and what do you want?”

  Jordan spoke. “Mr. Paley, my name is Special Agent Jordan Quest. I’m with the FBI. These are my colleagues, Agents Penner and Hanover. May we have a minute of your time?”

  Father Frank looked back at Penner, pointed to Jordan. “At least this one has manners,” he said. “You, I’m not so sure about.”

  Max Penner looked at Chris as if to ask, what did I do? Chris smiled.

  Biscuit continued to growl. Frank did not try to relax the dog. “How do you know my name?”

  Jordan looked at Biscuit. The German Shepherd cocked its head. “May I?” she asked.

  Father Frank warned. “I wouldn’t if I were—”

  Jordan stepped forward, took the dog’s head in her hands, massaged Biscuit’s ears, stroked his neck and chest. “Hey, baby,” she said. “Who’s a good boy?”

  Biscuit’s growl reduced to a whimper. He panted heavily, then calmed down, sat, and whined complacently.

  “You’ve got quite a way with animals, Agent Quest,” Father Frank said.

  Jordan smiled. “We understand each other. If I don’t see him as a threat, he won’t see me as a threat.”

  “So it seems.”

  “I understand you dropped off an envelope at the Odyssey Club two days ago,” Jordan said. “It was addressed to a woman by the name of Lacey Chastain. Do you remember?”

  Father Frank shrugged. “What if I did?”

  Chris interjected. “The woman works at the Odyssey. She’s been reported missing.”

  “And you’re telling me this why?”

  Agent Penner jumped into the conversation. “We want to know how you came to be in possession of the envelope.”

  Father Frank smiled. “What’s it worth to you?”

  Penner turned to Chris. “Is he kidding me?”

  “I’d say he’s dead serious,” Chris replied.

  Penner stared at the man. “Do you realize I could charge you with interfering with a police investigation?”

  “Do I look like I care?” Father Frank replied. “Besides, you wouldn’t.”

  “Really?” Penner said. “And why is that?”

  “Because then there’d be a snowball’s chance in hell of me ever telling you what you want to know. A hundred ought to do it.”

  “Didn’t you hear what I--” Penner said.

  “One-fifty.”

  “Not happening.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, Agent Penner,” Father Frank said. “Why don’t we make it an even two hundred?”

  Jordan stood. Biscuit wagged his tail and pushed his head against her hand, prodding her to continue the attention. “Sir, we really need to know,” she said. “A young woman’s life may be at stake. I would appreciate anything you could tell us.”

  Father Frank held Penner’s stare as he spoke to Jordan. “See? That’s how you talk to someone. Just because I live on the street doesn’t mean you can talk to me like something that just fell off your shoe. You, Agent Asshole, can go fuck yourself.” He turned to Jordan. “Agent Quest, I’ll be happy to provide you with whatever information you need.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Jordan said.

  Frustrated, Penner walked away. Biscuit growled. Jordan calmed the dog once again. “What can you tell me about the envelope?”

  Father Frank looked over his shoulder and pointed. “Someone slipped it under my door, quiet as hell. Didn’t even disturb Biscuit. Some guard dog, huh?”

  Jordan smiled. “I’d say Agent Penner would disagree with you on that one.”

  “That’s different,” Father Frank said. “With guys like him, Biscuit and I both tend to get our backs up.”

  “And you didn’t see who delivered it to you?”

  “Haven’t got a clue. But there were two envelopes, not one.”

  “Two?”

  Father Frank nodded. “One was marked as you said it was. The other contained two-hundred bucks and a note that read, ‘For Your Trouble.’”

  “Do you still have that note?”

  “Nah.” He pointed to a trash can on the street corner. “I threw it in there. The city has probably emptied the bin by now.”

  “We’ll have a look just the same.”

  Father Frank stroked Biscuit’s head. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

  “It’s no problem,” Jordan said. She shook Father Frank’s hand. “I appreciate it just the same.”

  “Anything else I can help you with?”

  “No, sir,” Jordan said. “I think we’re done here.”

  “All right,” Father Frank replied. “Then if it’s all the same to you, I’ll take Biscuit inside. He’s had a long walk. It’s time for his snack.”

  Jordan took one-hundred dollars out of her purse and handed it to the man. “This is for you and Biscuit, from me,” she said. “It’s a personal gift, not a handout. Consider it my way of saying thanks for helping us with our investigation. Maybe you can take Biscuit out for lunch. Treat him to a steak.”

  Father Frank took the cash. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said. “I appreciate that very much. So does Biscuit.” He smiled. “We’ll take you up on that suggestion.”

  “Good,” Jordan said. “We’ll be on our way, Father Frank. You and Biscuit take care of one another, okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am. We sure will.”

  Jordan patted the dog on the head. “Be a good boy. Take care of your dad.”

  Biscuit wagged his tail and chuffed.

  Jordan and Chris left the vagrant and walked down the street towards the trash can. Penner joined them.

  “You want to search the can for that note?” Chris asked.

  “Yeah,” Jordan said. “And one more thing.”

  “What’s that?” Chris asked.

  “We need to place Father Frank under surveillance.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s lying through his teeth.”

  CHAPTER 21

  LACEY PULLED THE TOOL BOX out of Victoria’s cell and rummaged through it.

  “What are you looking for?” Bonnie asked.

  “Solder paste and matches.”

  “What for?”

  “To blow the lock.”

  “Who are you?” Bonnie asked. “Jane Bond?”

  Lacey smiled. “My father was a plumber. As a kid, I was a tomboy. I followed him everywhere he went. He taught me all about plumbing. The pay’s great but the hours are terrible. He taught me how to solder a joint perfectly. And he also warned me about the dangers of the chemical components I was working with.”

  “Like solder?”

  Lacey nodded. “The aluminum powder in solder, in particular.” She found a can of paste, pulled it out of the box and handed it to Bonnie as she searched for the butane lighter. “Read the label,” she said.

  “Warning,” Bonnie said, reading aloud the inf
ormation on the underside of the can. “Keep container closed. Under certain conditions, this product can ignite and/or explode.”

  “Exactly,” Lacey said as she pulled the lighter from the box. “And we’re about to create the conditions for it to do precisely that.”

  “How?” Bonnie asked.

  “Solder is packed with particles of aluminum that have a very low flash point. When heated and exposed to oxygen they love to burn. I’m going to pack the lock full of both cans of paste, then set fire to it. Aluminum powder burns as fast as gunpowder and can ignite just as quickly. The powder in this product has a very small particle size, probably four-hundred-and-twenty microns or fewer, thus the reason for the fire and explosion hazard warning.”