Reduced Ransom!

by Mike Faricy

  It all made perfect sense to Mickey, thinking her friends called her Bunny because she probably liked carrots. But the Naples thing, that still bothered him, the real estate files were updated regularly and even if it was a transaction not handled by this branch office, it would still be listed under his net worth, his assets. The problem was, it wasn’t.

  It was well after four in the morning when he finally parked in front of his house, and sat behind the wheel, thinking. He wearily climbed the front porch steps and saw a hand-written note from Janice taped to the front door, call her when he got home.

  God, he thought, I don’t have the energy and I’m sure she didn’t want a call at four in the morning. I need some sleep and one way or the other, paid or not, I’m getting rid of Bunny Kelley today and then we’ll just give this whole thing a rest.

  He drifted off after setting his alarm to give himself three hours of much needed sleep, wondering if anyone else had the kind of problems that always seemed to find their way to his doorstep.

  * * *

  It wasn’t that he was groggy from lack of sleep, he was in fact, but that was only part of his problem. Mickey saw his current effort, operation Bunny, going right down the proverbial toilet. That headache and the fact that he was stumbling around his own kitchen trying to find where Janice had reorganized everything did nothing for his overall attitude.

  Right now, all he wanted was a spoon to shovel sugar into one of the new matching coffee mugs she had insisted he buy. After opening up the third drawer and finding more matching towels and no silverware he gave up, reached for the sugar bowl and shook it into his mug. He let out a long sigh, took a tentative sip of coffee and wondered how things had ever gotten so complicated.

  His eyes settled on the note he had found taped to his door barely three hours before; Call me when you get in, Janice.

  “Oh, hi,” she replied after answering. “Work late last night?”

  He bristled at her tone, but decided to sweet talk his way around the question. “Yeah, major plumbing back up. So, once I got things unclogged, I had to steam clean carpets, then do the normal work. Didn’t get home until a little after four and I figured that might not be the best time to call. Everything okay?”

  “Well, no, not exactly, I could come over if you were going to be home for a while.”

  If it had been any other morning he might have agreed, but on this particular morning he had to get out to Dell’s. He had to make sure Bunny hadn’t killed Dell or driven him crazy and escaped. Then he had to call Jack Kelley, get the ransom going. He didn’t see how he could fit Janice into the morning lineup. “I’m sort of pressed for time this morning. How about in a couple of days?”

  It was the wrong thing to say and the icy silence on the other end left no doubt.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s pretty important and I promise not to take up more than one minute of your apparently valuable time. But I think we had better talk.”

  “I’m sorry, you’re right, yeah please, come on over. I do have to be somewhere, but it can wait.”

  “I’m on my way,” she said, sounding a lot happier as she hung up.

  “Damn it!” he yelled.

  He was buttoning his shirt, a silky, shiny black shirt with a red Ford on the back and white dice on the collar, one of his favorites. He casually glanced out the bedroom window to see Janice pulling up to the curb in front of his house.

  It took him a minute or two to come down the staircase and let her in. He cautiously peered around the corner from his second-floor landing watching her from the top of the stairs as she waited at the door. She looked anxious, fidgety, and he watched her for any telltale sign that might suggest she had a gun. He watched her long enough that she had to ring the doorbell a second time. He walked a bit slower than normal down the staircase, never taking his eyes off her, right hand at the small of his back, ready to pull the Luger and fire a couple of rounds just to back her off. Let her know he wasn’t a push over and then remind her she’d netted a cool ten grand, cash, in the deal.

  “Hey,” she said, brushing past him as he opened the door, running up the stairs before he had a chance to respond. “Sorry, I’ve got about ten pots of coffee in me and I need to use your bathroom, fast,” she yelled over her shoulder, and disappeared into his apartment.

  Mickey looked up and down the deserted street before closing the door and slowly climbing the stairs after her.

  “Oh, God, that feels better,” she said, coming out of the bathroom. She paused to inspect him top to bottom. “That outfit is particularly dreadful, not your colors at all.”

  “You rushed over here to be my fashion coordinator?”

  “No, not that you don’t need one. There’s been a bit of a problem that’s sort of developed.”

  “What kind of problem? I had a vasectomy, so it can’t be—”

  “That’s not it, you idiot. It’s my stepfather, the other idiot,” she blurted out before sobbing uncontrollably, moving slightly forward so Mickey could wrap his arms around her.

  He stood there, wishing the painting of Ginger, the naked red head from Vegas, was still hanging on the wall. He listened to Janice cry and thought, I hate this shit.

  Chapter 77

  Kelley was waiting patiently watching the phone on his desk, willing the damn thing to ring.

  “You need anything, Mr. Kelley?” It was Carl lumbering down the hallway, poking his large head into the study, making sure everything was in order.

  “No, Carl, thank you, everything is just fine,” he said, dismissing the large man, thinking isn’t it strange, all this protection and I’m waiting on a phone call. Who are these people?

  Almost noon and no call, but the longer they waited the better the odds grew in Kelley’s favor. His special help was flying up from Chicago on a private jet. He had used their talents effectively before, they brought their own equipment, worked efficiently, ruthlessly and were capable of cleaning up a mess like this in twenty-four hours, then quietly flying out of town without leaving a trace.

  This operation would be a little different than the past, not only were they going to terminate the instigators, he wanted them to eliminate Bunny, too. She was out of control and frankly he couldn’t stand the sight of her. Now that she had apparently opened her big, fat, drunken mouth and told them about murdering the reporter, Tarbox, well, that was the last straw. She was a loose end he could no longer afford, and she had ceased being any sort of pleasure long ago. That led to the third task he would require of them, dispose of the bodies.

  The last time he had used their talents he had wanted a message sent loud and clear. And it had worked, three rounds between the eyes while you’re standing at an ATM machine with two dogs had delivered a very effective message to all parties concerned. At least, until Bunny had opened her big mouth and he found himself in this mess. Now, he just wanted her and whoever was involved with her, to quietly disappear and he could go back to simply collecting payments.

  Chapter 78

  Right now Mickey’s life seemed to be stuck on ‘Loser Lane’ just a block off of the ‘Horse Shit Highway’. He was driving about five miles below the speed limit on the way out to Dell’s feeling depressed. Janice had given him the little day brightener that her psychopathic stepfather, Huey, was about to find everything out and come gunning for him. Not for the last time in the past hour he cursed himself for thinking with the wrong head, concluding, as traffic zipped around him and a car load of kids gave him the finger, that it wasn’t all his fault.

  Now, he was wondering exactly how he was going to break the news to Dell. Tell his lifelong pal their worst fear had come true. Huey Evans was on to them. Normal pals just went fishing. Why in hell did they get involved with something that resulted in federal charges and death by Huey?

  All too soon, he found himself in Dell’s driveway, slowly creeping toward the house, past Dell’s van and into the tuck under garage. Maybe he could convince Dell they should move out of
state or better yet out of the country.

  “So, how’s she doing down there?” Mickey asked, climbing the basement steps into the kitchen.

  “She drank almost all of that second pitcher, then all of a sudden dropped like a rock to the floor. Hasn’t moved since and to tell the truth, I was too scared to go in there in case something happened.”

  “In case something happened? You mean like she’s dead?”

  “No, not dead, that would be too easy. I mean she’s so damn mean she might attack me or something. Mick, you heard her, she was in there howling, she may be a little thing, but neither one of us wants to tangle with her. She’s still passed out on that old drop cloth of yours snoring away.”

  “Well, we’re going to finish this up as soon as possible, today, hopefully. If not, we’ll just give her back if we have to, just leave her somewhere. What do you say about us taking a little trip, maybe down to the Grand Cayman Islands?”

  “Just give her back? After all we’ve been through? Mick, for once in our worthless lives things are finally starting to go our way. Yeah, she’s a pain in the ass, but what’s the rush? We get the money, we lay low, relax, take it easy. You want some warm weather we can go to Texas, Florida or somewhere, I mean what’s the rush?”

  “No rush, it’s just—”

  “Oh, shit, what are you leaving out, Mickey?”

  “Jesus, Dell. What is it with you that I have to be leaving something out? Can’t I just have a good idea I’d like to share with you? Share some good fortune with my pal. Why do you naturally assume something is going to go wrong?”

  “What? The cops are on to us, right? I knew it. I knew it was all getting just too cute, I knew—”

  “Will you relax, the cops aren’t on to us, for God’s sake. See, there you go pushing the old panic button, flipping out over nothing.”

  “Well, then what is it? If it’s not the cops, because I can tell by the way you always start dancing around that . . . oh God, it’s Huey, isn’t it? It’s Huey Evans. You got involved with this Janice and she told him, didn’t she?”

  “No, that’s not exactly what—”

  “I knew it, it’s my own damn fault. I shouldn’t even blame you, Mick. Hell, I know you’re a moron. No, I’ve got no one to blame, but myself, for getting involved with you. You know what?” He half laughed, not quite sanely. “That just makes me a bigger moron. I know it’s been hard, but somehow, I’ve managed to find someone dumber than you, namely me. And, now I’m going to die.”

  “Will you just slow down for a minute. Just stop and look at the opportunity we have here.”

  “Opportunity, opportunity for what? To pay in advance at O’Halloran’s funeral home? Opportunity? What, the opportunity to have Huey finish what he started when we were kids and finally kill us? Are you nuts? You mean like the choice we have to let the feds lock us up for life or let Huey just gun us down? That opportunity? Oh, great, this is just wonderful, old pal. This—”

  Mickey grabbed Dell by the shoulders and shook him “See? This is why I’m the idea guy, and I admit this was all my idea. It was my idea that we each get more cash than we’ve ever had. It was my idea that we get another hundred grand to split for that little thing passed out downstairs on the floor, I admit that. And you’re right, it was my idea that we go somewhere nice and enjoy the rest of our lives sipping drinks on the beach and staring at women wearing practically nothing at all. You’re right, Dell, it was all my idea.”

  “Mick, we can’t just leave. I mean, Jesus, how are we going to live? Where are we going to—”

  “We can, Dell, because I have ideas. We can do it because we’ll have cash just waiting for more opportunity. Now, look, I’ve got to call that shyster lawyer, Kelley, make sure he’s got the next installment for our retirement account ready to be delivered and then I’ll be back, maybe forty minutes.”

  “What about . . .” Dell looked to the door leading downstairs.

  “Her? Just leave her, as long as she’s asleep and quiet, why wake her? Neither one of us needs the hassle right now. Why don’t you get ready to drive up north, we’ll have to grab the cash from your lake place.”

  “Do you think I should pack anything?”

  “Pack, hell no, don’t pack. Dell, anything we need we can buy, pay cash for it. All our troubles are finally over.”

  Chapter 79

  “They’re downstairs, Mr. Kelley,” Pauly said. His large frame in the doorway blocked most of the light from the hall.

  “Show them up, please.”

  Less than a minute later, Pauly opened the door again and stepped into the room. He nodded to Kelley, still seated behind his desk. Pauly was followed by two men, unique in appearance only from the standpoint that there was absolutely nothing unique about them. Not their clothes, their height, their hair nor their faces. They were the sort of men you might meet, shake hands with and immediately forget their names.

  They entered the room and Kelley stood, nodded to two chairs opposite his desk. “Jack Kelley, good to see you guys again,” he said, in his best regular guy voice, and held out his hand.

  Neither of the two acknowledged his effort. They glanced quickly around the room then settled into the leather chairs.

  “Yes, well, I want to thank you both for coming up on such short notice. Can I offer you gentlemen anything?”

  Both men shook their heads, neither making an effort at a verbal reply.

  “Thanks, Pauly, I think that will be all we need right now.”

  Pauly nodded and left the room, softly closing the door behind him.

  Kelley could just catch the shadow of Pauly’s feet planted on the opposite side of the door ready to burst back into the room should any assistance be required.

  After a brief moment, Kelley felt the silence had already lasted too long. The air in the room had seemed to suddenly grow heavy and he wondered for a quick moment if maybe the thermostat had gone haywire. His mouth all the way to the back of his throat felt suddenly parched and he wished he had asked Pauly to bring a pitcher of water when he had the chance. He thought about calling him on the other side of the door, then just as quickly decided against it.

  As he fidgeted with some papers on his desk, he noticed a bit of difference between the two, facially mostly, the one with a longer nose, ice blue eyes, pale skin, possibly German or Polish. The man stared at Kelley, trance like, expressionless. The other, a bit more tone to the skin, but not much, hair slightly darker, blonde verging on brown, examined his fingernails casually, paying no attention. They seemed to blend into the chairs. Certainly not large men like Pauly or Carl, but not small either. They appeared compact, tight, and hard. Kelley couldn’t quite put a finger on it, certainly not the sort of men you would slap on the back and tell a joke to. In fact, they looked like they wouldn’t know any jokes, at least not any good ones.

  “Yes, well,” Kelley said. He cleared his dried throat and pulled his large desk chair up against the ornate desk. “As I said earlier, thank you for coming on such short notice. Now, did Mr. White bring you up to date on the little difficulty we seem to have up here?”

  He waited for a long couple of moments thinking perhaps they had somehow not heard him. Just as he was about to repeat the question the fellow with the long nose exhaled and began to speak.

  “We know someone, an individual, or individuals, has your wife. They requested payment to get her back. You would like for us to eliminate whoever is involved.”

  “And also, the woman, your wife,” his partner added.

  “We’ll dispose of any incriminating evidence,” Long Nose said.

  “I thought they were going to contact me this morning, but I haven’t heard a damn thing. Probably just as well. Now that you’re here, I expect that the demand, they mentioned yesterday will change. That hundred-grand had to be an initial figure. I’m sure they got information they shouldn’t have from Bunny and now they’ll want more money. A lot more money.”

  Chapter 80

&
nbsp; Mickey pulled along side a payphone at a Seven Eleven. He had Kelley’s number scrawled across a bar napkin from the War Bonnet Lounge and taped to his dashboard. He reached out his window and pushed the buttons on the payphone, a moment later it began to ring.

  Kelley sat at his desk and stared at the phone, finally answering after the fourth ring, playing it cool.

  “Yes.”

  “Kelley, do you have the money?” Mickey said, in almost a whisper.

  “How much are we talking about?” Kelley said, and wondered about the voice disguise. Sharp, very sharp. They weren’t missing a trick. He glanced up and looked into the cold, lifeless eyes of Long Nose, staring back at him.

  “Like I told you, yesterday, one hundred thousand dollars, that’s the magic number.”

  There it is, thought Kelley, the guy really yanking his chain, sending a message. They’re good, very good.

  “And, is that all you’re going to want?” Kelley asked, feeling as though he had just leaned out over the edge of a tall cliff by asking the question.

  Mickey wondered if Kelley had gotten the police involved and they were tracing the call right now. He immediately hung up the phone, calmly drove out of the Seven Eleven lot, heart pounding. He took the first right, then the next left, before checking his mirror to see if he was being followed.

  Kelley drummed his fingers on the desk, wondering what to do. He did know one thing, he had just about had it with his guests and their silent routine. “Gentlemen, it would appear this may take a while. Would you be so kind as to leave me a number where I might contact you as soon as we have something you can act on? I’ll let you know. Otherwise, I’m afraid I’ll just be wasting your time.”