The Deadliest Game: An Edward Mendez, P. I. Thriller

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The Deadliest Game: An Edward Mendez, P. I. Thriller Page 7

by Gerard Denza


  -I lied.

  -Bastard. And, now you've signed both our death warrants. Well, I may not be infected. I'll go to the nearest hospital right now and get tested. I don't want to die.

  -You will stay right where you are. I've a brief but important call to make. Then, we will discuss my plans at length.

  -What plans? You're a dead man, Louis. If the radiation doesn't get you, the police will.

  -Will they?

  -Yes. They're not as stupid as you think. They'll find you and burn you but good.

  -And, what will your sentence be, my dear? Life in prison? You are an accomplice.

  -No! Not anymore. I'll turn State's evidence.

  -Don't even think of betraying me.

  -You betrayed me! I don't owe you a damned thing. I'm putting on my coat and leaving. You can stay if you want. Finish the damned bottle and get plastered.

  Eileen Kobe walked over to the clothes closet and picked out a coat and matching hat. She didn't hear Octavio coming up behind her because he'd taken off his shoes. With the blunt end of his gun, he struck her hard on the back of the head. She fell to the floor dazed but still alive.

  Octavio took the silk scarf that she'd chosen to wear and wrapped it around her mouth to stifle any screams. He proceeded to kick the life out of her...first there were blows to the head to render his victim unconscious and then blows to every part of her inert body.

  When he finished the job, he shoved the body into the closet and shut the door. He walked back into the living room and poured himself another drink.

  Marlena and Susan arrived at Edward's office just as he and Yolanda were about to leave.

  -Marlena, I'm on my way uptown. I can't stick around and talk.

  -To see Lt. Donovan. I know what's happened, so I won't delay you. But, come to my townhouse tonight. We must talk. Much is at stake.

  -I'll try and make it, but I can't make any promises. I'm going to drop Yolanda off first.

  Marlena made a face. Yolanda wasn't one of Marlena's favorite people. And, Miss Lake had deliberately not invited the figure skater.

  -Of course.

  Edward buttoned up his coat and put on his Fedora.

  -Ladies? Be careful.

  -Edward, just one moment.

  -Marlena, I've gotta' run.

  -Susan and I were followed by a gray van this morning.

  Edward stopped to listen.

  -Did it try and catch up with you?

  -No. It was a warning..

  Edward was forced to agree.

  -Listen, don't take any chances. Go straight home and stay there. I'll try to get to your place tonight. Now, I gotta' run.

  Yolanda walked out with Edward glancing back at Marlena with a dirty look.

  Marlena went over to Edward's desk and made herself at home.

  -Mother? Turning private investigator?

  -In a sense, my dear. I've always been an investigator of sorts. You do come close to the truth if somewhat haphazardly.

  -Mother? I think we should drive Nella home. The trains aren't safe and the entire system might be shut down by now.

  Nella protested.

  -Susan, I'm sure I can get a cab. But, thanks, anyway.

  Victoria was too much of a lady to say it; but, she didn't like Marlena.

  It was just past noon when Edward reached the 86th St. precinct. He dropped Yolanda off and she made him a couple of “Johnny” cakes to take with him. He was just finishing off the second one as he locked his car door.

  Three minutes later, he and Sgt. Rayno were sitting across from Lt. Donovan in the latter's small office. Alexandra Raymond was sitting on the window's ledge with a notepad and pencil instead of her usual stenotype machine.

  Lt. Donovan began the proceedings.

  -The Mayor has shut down the entire subway line and that includes all above ground transit buses, as well.

  -That will paralyze the city.

  -It will, Sgt. Rayno; but, it might also paralyze our killer's movements.

  Edward spoke up.

  -Or killers. Louis Octavio must be getting help from somewhere. This kind of terrorist act, and that's what I'm calling it, needs a lot of planning and organization. He couldn't carry it out by himself.

  -But, where is he getting this help, Mendez? And, are we so sure that it is Louis Octavio? He's clean as far as we know. He's got no police record.

  -I'd stake my P. I. license on it, Lieutenant. What did you turn up at his apartment?

  -A subway map with just about every subway station marked off.

  -Christ! And, you don't call that damning?

  Miss Raymond spoke up.

  -Were any stations not crossed off?

  Lt. Donovan thought about this while banging his pack of cigarettes on his desk.

  -No. I don't think so. But, the boys in forensics are going over it now. I'm with you, Mendez: Octavio's our man. What did you turn up at Montenegro's place?

  -Ricardo Montenegro was abducted before we got there.

  -You're joking? We didn't hear anything on that.

  -You will, Lieutenant. And, I don't joke.

  Sgt. Rayno asked a question.

  -Did anyone see it happen?

  Edward told them all about the neighbor who witnessed the abduction.

  -Man! This case is getting real complicated.

  Miss Raymond had to agree.

  -Any idea who these men were in the gray van, Eddie?

  -Miss Raymond, I wish I could answer that. But,I think I know someone who can.

  Lt. Donovan took a cigarette out of the pack.

  -Wouldn't be your friend, Marlena Lake?

  -Bulls-eye, Lieutenant.

  -What did you find in Montenegro's place?

  -He had a visitor that morning or late last night.

  -Octavio?

  -Gotta' be. He kept a journal in his bedroom.

  Miss Raymond shook her head.

  -A dangerous thing to do.

  Edward nodded.

  -Agreed. He was going to turn “rat” on his buddies. I think he got cold feet about murder and that may be why he was taken. That entry was recent...maybe even just hours old. If Octavio saw it, he had to act on it

  Lt. Donovan finished Edward's thought.

  -Friend or no friend, Montenegro had to be eliminated. Kidnapping is clean and neat. He wouldn't have to concern himself with a corpse. But, let's get back to the subway bombing. Gentlemen and lady, any thoughts or insights?

  Miss Raymond had a question.

  -Lieutenant, was there any warning aside from the phone call to Ginny Gray?

  -Not that we know of. And, I think we should keep Miss Gray near her phone in case of another call. We'll send some of the tech boys over and have it tapped.

  Lt. Donovan continued while tapping ashes from his cigarette into the ashtray.

  -I'm betting that there will be another call – there's bound to be a follow-up. So, we'll hold tight on that one. Alex? Get a hold of Ginny Gray and tell her to stay put. And, if she won't, contact her editor and tell him not to put her on any assignment – and that's a god-damned order.

  -I've been trying to reach her all morning, but she is on assignment.

  Edward laughed.

  -Knowing Ginny, she's probably in the subway tunnel right now trying to push her way through every cop who stands between her and a scoop.

  Lt. Donovan addressed Miss Raymond.

  -Alex? Get on the phone and keep trying. Use the Interrogation Room.

  Miss Raymond got off the window's ledge.

  -I'm on it.

  She excused herself with her usual smile.

  Sgt. Rayno grinned.

  -A real pretty girl.

  Lt. Donovan and Edward didn't respond. The P. I. wanted to get a few things straight in his own mind.

  -So far, we're working on the assumption that our culprit is Louis Octavio. So, let's put together a coup
le of more assumptions.

  Lt. Donovan tapped some more ash into the ashtray.

  -Like what? And, careful with your assumptions, Mendez. They could backfire real hard.

  Edward exhaled some smoke in the Lieutenant's general direction.

  -Let's assume that Louis Octavio planted the bomb – or whatever the hell it was -- which means that at one point he had to be a commuter on the LL train heading into Manhattan this morning. So where did he get on and at what station did he get off?. Because, unless this was a suicide mission, he had to get off no later than Lorimer St. which is the stop just before Bedford Ave. where the train enters the tunnel.

  Lt. Donovan agreed. In spite of himself, he liked how the shamus' mind worked.

  -Keep talking. We're with you so far.

  Edward continued.

  -Which means he wasn't riding alone. Even at the most ungodly hour, there's probably a couple of passengers in each and every car: night shift workers, homeless people. Which means that someone spotted – or even better – can identify Octavio. We just might be able to make up a composite image of the bastard and plaster it on the front page of every newspaper in the damned city.

  -I like those assumptions, Mendez. Keep 'em coming.

  -The trick is to figure out where Octavio got on and where he got off.

  Lt. Donovan took out a subway timetable from his desk drawer.

  -I know you'd never guess it, but the subway does run on a time schedule.

  Sgt. Rayno laughed out loud.

  -You're right, Lieutenant, I would've never guessed it.

  Lt. Donovan opened the timetable and spread it across his desk. Edward and Sgt. Rayno got up and stood on either side of the Lieutenant.

  -Lieutenant? You gotta' help me with this one. I'm real lousy at reading this kind of stuff.

  Lt. Donovan pointed to the middle of the timetable.

  -Here, Sergeant, that's the LL line. The explosion took place close to 8 A.M. in the connecting tunnel. The bomb must have been planted no later that 7:50 A.M. and that would be at the Bedford Avenue stop.

  -That would make it a suicide mission.

  -Right. So, it must have been planted at least a couple of stops prior to that one like Mendez here said. Maybe, at Graham Ave. which is not a transfer point.

  Edward broke in.

  -That's what I've been thinking. Octavio needed to get as far away from the detonation point as possible. Don't forget about the radiation fallout. From what I've been hearing, he'd have to put at least three stations between himself and the explosion.

  Lt. Donovan continued.

  -So, he'd have to get off no further down the line than Graham Ave. which is a non-transfer point. He'd either be stuck there or-

  Edward finished the Lieutenant's sentence.

  -Or he'd have to get out on to the street and cross over to the other side of the station to head in the opposite direction. That'd be taking a risk and gambling with valuable time.

  -He might have had a car waiting for him.

  Edward put out his cigarette.

  -Maybe, Sergeant, or even a gray van. And, I'm betting on a gray van. I've been seeing too many of them, lately.

  -A what?

  -Montenegro was abducted and put into a gray van this morning.

  Lt. Donovan put out his cigarette.

  -Let's forget this gray van for now.

  Edward shrugged his broad shoulders.

  -Okay with me. My money is on a key transfer point. Don't forget, the train is getting more and more crowded at each stop. He's got to plant the bomb and, then, make his way out of the train which is not so easy during the rush hour – especially when you don't want to draw attention to yourself.

  Sgt. Rayno grinned.

  -Would it matter who noticed him getting out? All those people are gonna' be dead in a few minutes.

  Edward took out another cigarette and continued.

  -Let's assume – again! – that Octavio got on at Canarsie – the first stop on the line. He gets himself a seat.

  Sgt. Rayno cut in.

  -Why the first stop?

  -To make sure that he gets a seat and positions himself in front of as few people as possible. And, to give himself time to make any last minute adjustments or changes. Remember, anything can go wrong. This gives him plenty of time to plant the device and choose his departure route.

  -What transfer points do you have in mind, Mendez?

  -Glad you asked, Lieutenant. My sister, Dottie, used to ride that line. The transfer stations I had in mind were Broadway Junction which happens to be above ground or Myrtle and Wyckoff Ave., both are transfer points and real busy during rush hour. And, the LL wouldn't be too crowded. He could get off without being conspicuous. He'd just be a commuter transferring to another line.

  Lt. Donovan thought it over.

  -Make sense...really good sense. So, how do we find this witness who can give us a description?

  Edward went back to his chair.

  -We're going to need the Mayor's help. He closed down the system; but, he's going to have to reopen it.

  -That's not gonna' happen, Mendez.

  -It's got to. I don't think Octavio's going to strike again until he makes some kind of demand. He knows that he can't push us too far.

  -That's too big of an assumption. And, it's the LL line that's gotta' be reopened, so forget it for now. And, besides, the tunnel's structure's been compromised. It could crack open at any second.

  -Why not open it up as far as the Myrtle and Wyckoff Ave. station?

  Lt. Donovan shook his head.

  -I'm not arguing with you, Mendez. But, I know this Mayor and so do you two gents. The transit system is staying closed, especially with the threat of radiation.

  Edward was forced to agree; but, he had an alternate plan up his sleeve.

  -How about we put out a radio bulletin every hour or half hour? Ask for witnesses to come forward. We can even put out squad cars along those key transfer points to canvas the area and put up bulletins. We can get this organized in just a couple of hours.

  Lt. Donovan agreed. He was even enthusiastic about it.

  -That we can do. Sgt. Rayno, start the ball rolling and get Miss Raymond to help and some of the on-duty officers. Get in touch with every precinct along the LL line and tell them what we're up to. Do it now, Sergeant.

  Sgt. Rayno hurried out of the room.

  -Lieutenant? When we get that call from Octavio – and I'm betting that we will – we'll know how much time we have.

  -And, in the meantime, Mendez?

  -I'm heading out to Canarsie and canvas the area myself. It'll give me something to do.

  Eleven

  EDWARD PARKED his car just across the street from the train station. He turned on the car radio. The P. I. listened to some Big Band music which was not his favorite, but it would do for the moment. He lit a cigarette. He was hoping that the token booth clerk was still on duty. But, what about the coming rush hour? How the hell were people supposed to get home? He put that thought out of his mind and got out of his Ford.

  He walked over to the station holding on to his Fedora. The wind had picked up. He looked about the area: a couple of factories were nearby and the rest looked residential with a couple of apartment buildings thrown into the mix. A few teenagers were hanging around outside a candy store down the block.

  Edward walked up the stairs to the elevated train platform and...yes! The clerk was still on duty.

  -Good afternoon.

  -Trains ain't running, Mister.

  -I know. I'm not looking for a train. I'd like to talk to you.

  -What about? You wouldn't be with the cops now, would you? Heard about that explosion in the tunnel. Terrible thing to happen. Couple of people 'round here think it's some kind of Commie plot.

  Edward smiled. The thought of a Communist plot really wasn't so far fetched. It might even have a grain of truth to it. He hear
d the sound of a train approaching.

  -It won't stop, Mister. Just passing through on its way to the yard.

  Edward studied the man. He was about fifty-five with gray hair that was receding at the temples. He was wearing spectacles. He seemed like a good sort who was willing to be helpful if he could.

  -Name's Edward Mendez. I'm a private investigator working with the police.

  -Any news that I haven't heard on the radio?

  -No. I think they've pretty well covered it.

  -How can I help you, Mr. Mendez?

  -You must see a lot of people coming through here every day. Mostly familiar faces, I bet.

  -Mostly. But, a newcomer does come along once in a while.

  -Mr.?

  -Oh. Sorry about that. Barton Moran at your service.

  -Barton, were there any newcomers this morning?

  -Let me think for just a second. No.... Yes. There was one, Mr. Mendez. How could I forget? He was a tall figure of a fella'. Had on an overcoat and gloves. Real spiffy dresser.

  -What else was he wearing?

  -Scarf. It was a dark overcoat and one of those German style hats. In a big hurry, he was. He didn't actually come to my booth, mind you. I saw him walking on the train platform. Kinda' looked like he just got off the train coming in and was getting ready to board the one heading on out. He looked to be doing something.

  -Doing what, Barton?

  -Fiddling with a briefcase. Looked like an expensive one, too. I got an eye for the finer things.

  Edward steadied himself.

  -Barton, think...what did he look like? Any feature that someone would notice?

  The clerk shook his head.

  -You gotta' remember, Mr. Mendez, that this here was from a distance. He did turn around in my direction more than once. Let me see... Piercing eyes that kinda' looked through you. I don't think he wanted me to see his face

  -And, he was carrying a briefcase.

  -That I could swear to. It was on his lap. Can't blame him for that. Shouldn't put things on the floor. My wife never does and warns me not to. That's how they get stolen.

  -I'll bet! Barton, you may have to come down to police HQ later. Don't be upset if you're approached by a police officer. And, try to remember anything else you can.

  -Will do, Mr. Mendez. A pleasure.

 

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