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

by Gerard Denza

  -Marlena?

  -Yes, dear boy?

  -Tell me all you know about these gray vans.

  Marlena belted down her bourbon.

  -First, tell me about your day and in detail. What do you know of the Diamond District murders and that dreadful subway tunnel explosion.

  -I thought we'd gone through that.

  -Only in a general sense. You know how detail oriented I am.

  The P. I. filled his hostess in on everything. Whatever else she was, Marlena Lake could keep a secret...and she had lots of them.

  Susan came into the room wearing an apron.

  -Susan, take off that apron and join us for drinks.

  -Why thank you, mother.

  -And, freshen our drinks while you're at it like a good girl.

  -Of course. Edward, what are you having?

  -Whiskey and soda..

  Edward turned back to his hostess.

  -Marlena? These gray vans?

  -When one is followed by one, it's either a warning or certain death. That man, Montenegro, you can assume that you'll never see him again. He's either dead or better off dead. They kill with intent and are very good at what they do.

  Edward was starting to relax.

  -So, who exactly are “they?”

  Susan brought over the drinks and, then, sat down next to Edward.

  -Do you know, mother?

  -Agents. Saboteurs of some government agency...an agency that extends throughout the world.

  -A government that's underground, you mean. A government that's not really a government at all? Maybe some international conglomerate? Do I have to mention a name?

  -You understand the sub-context of my answer, dear boy.

  Susan spoke up.

  -How long have these agents been around?

  -Their mode of transportation has changed to suit the context of the time period. They've been with us always. Their main purpose, I believe, is to temper mankind's advancement or to stifle it and bring about another Dark Age.

  Edward wasn't impressed.

  -Who controls whom?

  Marlena looked at her favorite guest.

  -At the moment, I don't know. But, these stones...their destructive power has been exploited, but what of its constructive power?

  Edward finished his second whiskey and soda.

  -I don't follow you, Marlena.

  -Couldn't these stones be used as an energy source? Say a propellant or as a source of infinite light and heat?

  -Maybe. But would we know how to use it without blowing ourselves to kingdom come? Do we have the technology to “tame” it?

  Marlena sat forward in her chair.

  -Excellent point, Edward. And, in answer to your question: no.

  Ginny Gray was sitting at her desk and typing away like a bat-out-of-hell when the phone call came through at a quarter past ten.

  -Ginny Gray here.

  -We spoke this morning, Miss Gray.

  Ginny waved frantically to the three police officers who had replaced Miss Raymond. Their tracking equipment was in place. A police officer stood over Ginny and motioned for her to keep him talking.

  -I'll say we have. You've had quite a day for yourself – killing a couple of hundred people – that takes time and gall!

  The police officer whispered in Ginny's ear.

  -Don't antagonize him.

  -Listen carefully, Miss Gray, or there will be another explosion and many more lives will be taken.

  -I'm listening. That's my job.

  -The sum of ten million dollars in untraceable notes is to be delivered by Edward Mendez tomorrow at dusk in Central Park.

  -That's a mighty big place. Where, exactly?

  -By the outcropping of bedrock just parallel to West 67th St.

  -You said dusk. What time exactly? I need a time.

  -You do not.

  Ginny put on her most nonchalant but challenging voice.

  -Why ten million? Why not be original about this? How about our dear Mayor's head on a silver platter? What say?

  -You have your instructions and they are simple enough.

  -And, just what do we get out of all this? You get the money and we get...

  -The detonation stone. And, you are welcome to it.

  -You hand over the doomsday stone when we hand over the money? And, you're in plain sight all the time?

  -Is that not what I said?

  -No. It's not what you said which is why I'm asking. Don't get cozy with me.

  -Miss Gray, if there is any betrayal, I will carry out my threat. I've nothing to lose and we both have something to gain.

  Ginny was about to speak when she heard the click on the other end of the line. She slammed down the phone and turned to face the police officer.

  -Did you trace it?

  The officer who'd been standing next to her rushed over to his two colleagues. In a couple of minutes, he turned back to Ginny.

  -Got him!

  Three police cars converged in front of the Gold St. apartment house of Eileen Kobe. Four officers in riot gear stormed up the front staircase followed by a medical team equipped with a Geiger counter.

  A young, blonde woman opened her apartment door on the third floor and peered out.

  -What the hell's going on here? Is this some kind of raid?

  -Are you Eileen Kobe?

  -No. It's that door just down the hall. What's she done?

  -Get back inside your apartment and lock your door, Miss. Now!

  Veronica Crane did as she was ordered. Why should she care about Eileen Kobe? Never liked the bitch.

  The first officer pounded on the apartment door.

  -Police! Open up!

  No response.

  -Open up! Now!

  No response.

  He looked back at his two fellow officers.

  -Get ready.

  They drew their guns.

  The first officer was a black belt in karate. With one round-house kick, he broke open the door. He squatted down and moved quickly into the apartment. His fellow officers followed him in. The lights were turned off but light from the street lamps was filtering in through the Venetian blinds.

  The first officer gave the order.

  -Check that room out. I'll take the one straight ahead.

  Kitchen, bathroom, bedroom and living room were checked out. Nothing. The second officer pointed to a clothes closet.

  -Hey, chief, how about this closet over here?

  The three officers moved toward it staying out of a direct line of fire in case someone was hiding behind the door. The first officer reached for the door knob, turned it and flung it open.

  -Christ!

  The body of Eileen Kobe was on the floor.

  -Beaten to death. Call the meat wagon for this one. Holy crap! Looks like every bone in her body's been busted.

  The contamination squad was in the living room. The three police officers heard a clicking sound that sounded like radio static.

  -What the hell is that?

  The three officers turned away from the corpse. The first officer asked.

  -What's up?

  The head man of the contamination unit responded.

  -There are signs of radioactivity here. Not lethal, mind you, but you might want to evacuate the residents just in case. We need to check out the rest of the apartment, but so far the readings are stable and not in the red zone.

  -The ambulance boys are downstairs.

  -Good. Tell them to remove that body to a quarantine area.

  The second officer ran down the stairs to the waiting ambulance. The third cop stayed with the contamination unit.

  The first officer went knocking on residents' doors. Veronica Crane opened up.

  -So, what gives? Eileen Kobe in some kind of trouble?

  -She's dead. Murdered.

  Miss Crane clutched at her robe.

  -Oh gosh!
How? When?

  -Never mind that. Just pack a few things and visit a family member or a friend for a few days.

  -You mean right this minute?

  -Yes. I do, Miss.

  -What's going on? I guess I can visit my Mom for a couple of days in Staten Island. Can I take my cat with me?

  -Sure. If you need any help, we can drive you to your mom's place.

  -That's real decent of you, officer. I didn't know that Eileen chick too good. The stand-offish type, if you know what I mean. And always nervous and looking over her shoulder. You'd think someone was out to get her- and, I guess they were. Poor kid.

  -Did she have many friends?

  -Only that one guy with his briefcase. Always carrying that briefcase like there was gold in it or something.

  This first officer was up on his current events.

  -Can you identify this boyfriend?

  -He didn't act like a boyfriend...more like some co-conspirator. I picked that up from the movies. He gave me the creeps. But, I can point him out for you. He was with her tonight, as a matter of fact. I saw him come in- hey, you're not telling me that he was the one who bumped her off? He didn't look so hot himself. All sweaty and he had that briefcase with him. So what else is new?

  -Miss...

  -Veronica Crane. I work at the telephone exchange up on 14th and Lex.

  -Get your things together and your cat.

  The police officer looked past Miss Crane.

  -Is that him?

  -Isn't he adorable? He's only got the one eye, but he's real good company. An elderly lady passed away a few weeks ago in the building and I took him in.

  -I'm gonna' alert the other tenants. I'll come back for you.

  -Wait just a sec'. Do you think Mr. Briefcase did her in? You can level with me. He sure looked the type with those coal, black eyes of his. Gave me the willies.

  -When did he get here tonight?

  -After five. I couldn't pinpoint a time for you.

  -Did you see him leave the building?

  -I did at that. Me and Tommy were by the window just looking out when he came out. He started down the block in a hurry, like. But, it was kind of odd. This gray van caught up to him and he went around to the back of it and got in.

  The phone rang and Susan answered it.

  -Edward? It's for you.

  He took the phone.

  -Edward Mendez.

  -Listen up.

  Lt. Donovan gave the P. I. a complete update including the murder of Eileen Kobe and the Louis Octavio call to Ginny Gray.

  Edward hung up the phone and walked back into Marlena's living room.

  -Edward, dear boy, one for the road?

  -No, thanks, Marlena. I'm heading downtown and traffic might still be heavy.

  -And, the latest developments?

  He sat down and gave his hostess an update.

  -Another woman beaten to death down on Gold St. Louis Octavio seen leaving the building and an eyewitness to confirm it.

  -Louis Octavio is the murderer of your sister and this Kobe woman. And, now he's demanding a king's ransom.

  -That just about sizes it up. But, there's one interesting factor- You know, Marlena, on second thought, I think I will have one for the road.

  -Of course.

  Susan went to the drinks table to pour the P. I. another whiskey and soda.

  -This Octavio got into a gray van.

  -Indeed. Willingly or forced?

  -It was waiting for him. He got in and it drove off to only-God-knows-where.

  -Louis Octavio is not acting alone. He couldn't be.

  Susan handed Edward his drink.

  -Here you go. There's just a touch of whiskey in it. After all, you do have to drive.

  -Thanks, Susan.

  -So, dear boy, what's our next move?

  Edward smiled and made a mock toast.

  -That's easy. I've got a date with Octavio tomorrow at dusk in Central Park. Wish me luck.

  -Of course, dear boy. And, don't be too surprised if a gray van shows up.

  December 3, 1948

  Fifth Ave. Skyscraper

  Fourteen

  IT WAS still dark when Louis Octavio awakened from his drugged sleep. He was slumped over the desk in the office of...whom? He only half remembered being taken to a skyscraper sometime late last night...it had to be last night. Surely, an entire day and night couldn't have gone by. He had to make certain.

  Octavio pushed himself into an upright position and suffered a momentary sensation of vertigo. It passed. He placed his hands to his face and there was very little stubble. Good. Only a few hours had passed.

  He looked about the unfamiliar office. The desk where he was sitting was executive style and in good condition. There were two leather chairs facing the desk, the obligatory potted plant in the corner, and a few framed nondescript pictures on the wall.

  The room was dark. He reached for the desk lamp and pulled the dangling chain. It didn't go on. He got up and walked over to the door where there should be a light switch on the wall. He flipped it on. No light.

  He tried the door. It opened to a receptionist's area. He went back to the desk. Where was his briefcase? He glanced out the window.

  -How high up am I?

  He leaned on the window sill. It was a straight drop down of about fifty stories. He turned away from the window and started searching for his briefcase. By this time, his eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness and the night sky was starting to give way to the daylight.

  -Where is it?

  He looked up. Had he heard a movement in the room? He looked out the window, again.

  -That's the main branch of the public library over there. This must be-

  -The 50th floor of 500 5th Ave., Mr. Octavio.

  Octavio spun around to face that cold voice.

  -Who are you?

  -Here's your briefcase, you traitor. You really shouldn't be carrying it about with you. It could so easily be misplaced or stolen.

  -I can't see you properly. Show yourself.

  The man came forward.

  -I still can't make you out.

  -Take this briefcase, you fool.

  He took the briefcase from the outstretched hand and placed it on the desk.

  -Open it and check the contents.

  He did as ordered. The man facing him was wearing a black suit and hat and his face was pale as chalk Was he wearing sunglasses, as well?. He checked the contents of the briefcase . Nothing had been tampered with.

  -Satisfied, Mr. Octavio?

  -Yes. Thank you.

  -Good. You will meet with Edward Mendez as planned. In the meantime, here are some further instructions. And, this time, do as you are ordered. Suspicion must be kept away from the company.

  Naked, Edward got out of bed and went to the bathroom to relieve himself. When he walked back into the bedroom with a semi-erection, Yolanda was awake. He slipped into his boxer shorts. There was no time for love making this morning.

  -I'll put the coffee on while you wash up.

  -Thank you, my darling.

  While the coffee was brewing, Edward got the bacon and eggs ready. He was hungry and he knew that Yolanda had a healthy appetite, as well. She was an athlete in training and needed to eat. He set the table and finished dressing. He had to meet with Lt. Donovan and the Chief of Police to go over the strategy for that rendezvous at dusk. It was only 5 A.M....about eleven hours away from his meeting with Octavio.

  Yolanda came to the table buttoning her blouse.

  -Smells delicious. I'll serve.

  -Did you get last night's edition of the paper?

  -It's on the couch. It was all about the subway tunnel bombing. The Diamond District murders were pushed back to page nine. But, Edward, why does it have to be you to meet with that madman?

  -Right now, baby, he's calling the shots...that is, up until meeting time. We've got a few surprises for
him.

  -It sounds too risky to me. Here's your eggs.

  -Thanks, baby.

  -Can he be trusted to keep his end of the bargain?

  -I'm betting that he can't.

  -Will he have the stone – or whatever it is – with him?

  -We're not counting on it.

  -Maybe, he'll make more demands. Blackmailers always do, you know.

  -He might.

  -Edward, what aren't you telling me?

  -What I've been ordered not to. Believe me, it's for your own good.

  -I trust you; but, I don't trust this Octavio.

  -You've got plenty of company there, baby.

  -Where will you be all day?

  -At the 86th St. precinct house with our friend, Lt. Donovan. Sgt. Rayno oughta' be there, too, along with the Chief of Police. What time do you plan on getting back here?

  -Around three o'clock.

  -Might be a good idea to stay indoors today as much as possible.

  -I'll be worrying about you all day.

  -I'll be kind of worried myself. But, don't worry too much. We're gonna' be prepared for the bum.

  Edward arrived at the 86th St. precinct at 7 A.M. sharp which was approximately nine hours before his meeting with Louis Octavio. How the hell was he going to get through that time? He didn't know it when he walked into Lt. Donovan's office, but the time was gonna' tick by real fast.

  -Mendez, sit down. We'll have company pretty soon and, then, we'll move into the Interrogation Room upstairs.

  Edward took off his coat and Fedora.

  -Getting pretty cold out there.

  -I'll say! It was below freezing when I got up and it's still not officially winter.

  -You just reminded me, Lieutenant, about something I've got to ask Marlena about. Funny how I forgot about it last night.

  -Miss Lake? You keep in touch with her a lot, don't you?

  -She keeps in touch with me. But, what I'm thinking about now has nothing to do with today.

  -She knows about the dusk rendezvous with Octavio, I take it.

  It was a statement.

  -She does. And, she warned me not to trust him.

  -I'd have to agree with her on that.

  -She's also worried about Octavio's cohorts.

  -We don't know for sure that he has any.