Good Deed Bad Deed : A Novel Mystery

by Marcia Morgan

  Annunciata stopped at the corner bodega to purchase rattraps and a candy bar. She showed the clerk a paper with the address written on it and was told the house was near the end of the next block. She was relieved not to have to board a bus and possibly change several times. The canvas bags were hard to hold onto and she had to stop twice to rest her arms and renew her grip. When she saw the house all she could do was to shake her head. If the inside was as bad as the outside, she would have a lot of hard work ahead of her. She dropped her belongings on the small porch and fumbled in her purse for the key.

  She opened the door with some difficulty, picked up the bags and stepped inside, immediately noticing the unpleasant odors. One at a time she heaved the bags onto the only table then began to walk around the house, making mental note of what to do and how to start. An old broom and mop had been left in the shower stall and would have to do. She had expected having to clean the floors on her hands and knees. First, she swept the trash from all the rooms into one corner near the entrance. She had noticed a cracked plastic waste bin at the side of the house and went out to drag it inside. With the floor cleared she looked around and let out a long sigh. She then began to clean, one room at a time, the odor of bleach becoming almost overwhelming.

  By seven o’clock the house was passably clean, and the terrible odors were gone. As Annunciata prepared to leave, the thought crossed her mind that when she cleaned the floors she had neglected to clean inside the closet. Pride in her work would not allow her to leave without completing the task. She retrieved the broom and mop she had returned to the shower stall and approached the closet. Inside she saw a large duffle bag that she would have to remove in order to clean the floor. She tried to lift it, but it was too heavy for her so she merely pulled and pulled until it was clear of the area to be cleaned. She swept the debris from the floor and with the still wet mop she wiped it down, all the while finding her eyes going back to the duffle. It seemed that hard objects were protruding against the canvas. The woman’s curiosity grew until she found herself slowly sliding the zipper open. She peered inside then began to rummage around in the contents. The first thing she pulled out was a pair of handcuffs, followed by two rolls of silver tape, another pair of handcuffs and long pieces of chain.

  Her heart began to race with the thought of being discovered looking through the man’s things. She quickly replaced everything, zipped the duffle and shoved it back in the closet. Using the doorknob to steady her, she pulled herself upright, closed the door and gathered her belongings. A quick departure was all that mattered now. Annunciata put her bags down on the porch, locked the door, and then placed the key on the ground right next to the cement step as instructed. Once she had covered it with a small rock, she made a hasty retreat toward the nearest bus stop.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Valerie awakened just seconds before her alarm sounded. A rush of excitement ran through her as she bolted from bed and headed to the bathroom. The morning’s concern was not about primping. She washed her face and brushed her teeth, applied moisturizer and mascara, then decided the minimum would have to do. Just to be safe she dialed Olivia’s cell phone, which she knew would be on her night table, the same place she always kept hers. Olivia answered on the fourth ring, sounding half asleep.

  “Rise and shine, girlie. It’s coming on eight o’clock! We have places to go and things to see!”

  “I had my alarm set. It would have gone off in ten minutes. I needed those ten minutes. I had a later night than I’d planned.”

  “I’m assuming it wasn’t an all-nighter, because you sound like you’re alone. You can doze on the plane. Go throw some cold water on your face and get yourself organized. The taxi will be here in fifteen minutes and we’ll get you within half an hour or so, depending on traffic.”

  “My late night wasn’t for fun. I was finishing up some things from work on my computer so Mr. Saunders won’t get into a snit while I’m gone.”

  Assured that Olivia had not had a bawdy night, Valerie told her to be ready and watching through the window for the taxi to arrive. Olivia intended to travel light, never an easy thing to do, and was sure she could easily manage her suitcase and bag. She did as she was told with regard to her ablutions and then reached for the clothes she had left out the night before. She slid into a pair of leggings, a long sleeve tee, and the requisite black leather jacket. Hopping around the bedroom, she pulled on a pair of socks and ankle boots, threw her toiletries into the suitcase and zipped it closed.

  She had just placed everything by the door when a taxi horn blared through her open window. She had almost forgotten to close and lock the window, so with that done, she quickly collected everything, locked her apartment and called the lift. Once she appeared on the street the driver got out to help with her belongings. Soon the women were being whisked toward Heathrow, each imagining the possibilities of such an impulsive adventure.

  The flight left about thirty minutes late, most of which was spent idling on the tarmac. The pilot, however, had announced that favorable winds would bring them into Madrid only a few minutes later than estimated. Valerie and Olivia were some of the last to board, and therefore, among the first to disembark, easily reaching the gate to the connecting flight in time for its punctual departure. The view from the plane was clouded by smog until it had progressed well beyond Madrid. The smaller commuter plane flew at a lower altitude, enabling passengers to see the green and gold expanse of the land below. Further on, as the plane reduced altitude on the approach to San Sebastian’s airport, the Bay of Biscay glistened in the diffused light of the midday sun.

  The runway was on a long spit of land along a river at nearby Hondarribia, located on the Spanish-French border—although it was known as the San Sebastian airport. After a smooth landing the women proceeded through customs and collected their bags. There were directions in both English and Spanish to car rental and buses. They debated about how they would get to Pamplona, considered renting a car, and decided against it due to their tight budget. The buses were outside, parked along the curb, and some of them looked quite worse for wear. The conclusion was that a bus was all they could afford, and so they exited the airport and walked the length of sidewalk in front of the building. Taxi drivers motioned to them, but they did their best to ignore the waves, whistles, and the open passenger doors with eager drivers ready to usher them inside. Several of the buses were marked for Pamplona, and Valerie said that without further thought they should just pick one and get on.

  At that moment, a dilapidated van maneuvered into a small space between two of the buses the women were considering. The driver honked several times quickly, jumped out of the van, leaving it double-parked. He then presented himself to Valerie and Olivia. He was clean-shaven, and in spite of the rakish straw hat he wore, they could see that his head was shaved. He wore loose-fitting pants that seemed to be covering some kind of heavy boots. Both women stepped back in response to this assault on their attention.

  Lenny smiled at them and spoke. “Good afternoon, ladies. I’m from your hotel—the guesthouse—Gestión Alojamientos,” he said, the heavy Manchester accent causing him difficulty. “They sent me to bring you.”

  He had expected to have a rather a long wait watching for the women to exit the airport. Since they had arrived earlier than expected, he would have to ‘wing it.’ Valerie thought it was rather strange that an Englishman with a definite Manchester droll would be working for a Spanish hotel, especially considering his terrible accent. But she knew the English had been the largest group of expats in the world, probably because of the size of England’s kingdom before it began to shrink.

  Olivia, always the one to question, asked the man why her friend hadn’t been notified that they would be met at the airport. His answer came easily. The van had been in disrepair and had only come back from the mechanic that very morning. It was expected that transportation would not be available, so it couldn’t be promised. Both women were satisfied by his explanation, and
feeling the fatigue that always accompanies travel, they decided the van would be more comfortable than a bus—but not by much, from the look of it.

  As he started to gather the bags and put them in the van, the man called out to say they should call him Joe. Lenny liked the idea of deceiving them—using an alias. His story was that he only worked for the hotel a few hours a week, to collect passengers from the airport, and the rest of the time he was a bartender. He was burly and handled everything as if it were merely a few empty boxes. He ushered them into the back seat and went around to the driver door, hurled himself up into the seat and started the engine.

  “There’s no air conditioning—it’s a luxury in these parts—not too hot today though.”

  The women looked for seat belts, but there were none. Olivia warned Valerie to be careful not to drop anything in the hole that gaped between them on the seat. Olivia turned to her and whispered, “If this van is any indication of our accommodations, we’re in trouble.”

  “Maybe this is a case of ‘can’t tell a book by its cover’ — if we’re lucky. I think we’ll have to make the best of it because the town is no doubt booked up for the running of the bulls.”

  “Just so it’s clean—no bugs or creepy crawlies. That’s all I care about.”

  Olivia stopped talking and looked out the window at the green hills and ocean. Within a short while they had turned south and the landscape slowly became more arid. Their driver was quiet. The van bounced along, jarring the women with every bump in the poorly maintained road. They settled back and relaxed as best they could, each daydreaming a bit about what they believed would be a fantastic week of celebration and people watching.

  The heat of the day had accumulated in the metal of the old van, and the temperature inside was extremely disagreeable. Clothing stuck to their backs and perspiration glistened on their faces. Finally the scene began to change. Buildings were closer together, with homes and businesses lining the paved streets. Lenny slowed the vehicle as they entered a more congested area of the city. Pamplona was decorated for the running of the bulls. Strips of red flags were strung high across streets here and there, a symbol of the traditional red kerchiefs worn by those who participate in the running of the bulls. Men, mostly young, were strolling in the timeless costume of white pants and shirt with a red kerchief tied either around their waist or neck. Valerie and Olivia settled back and enjoyed the sights, assuming that they were being taken to their accommodation. They soon noticed that their driver had left the town center behind and was driving through what appeared to be a residential neighborhood. It seemed feasible that a guesthouse could be located in such a place, so they just continued to observe. Before long Lenny stopped the van in front of an old house. He proceeded to drive over the curb and across the expanse of dead grass, stopping just feet from the front door.

  He turned off the ignition and said, “Here we are. It’s time to get out, ladies.”

  Olivia turned to look at Valerie, her expression one of disbelief. Valerie returned the expression and spoke. “Surely this must be the wrong place. I know the place we booked only had two stars, but this is ridiculous.”

  “Ladies, I guarantee this is where you’ll be staying.”

  Valerie began to assert herself. “This is no guesthouse. Do you see a sign anywhere?” She quickly pulled her mobile phone out of her bag and then dug for the reservation information so she could dial the hotel’s number. She handed the paper to Olivia and told her to read out the number.

  “Never mind, you two. You’ll be coming with me. You’ve been provided with alternate accommodations. Now hand me your phones.” They looked up at him and saw that he had turned around and was pointing a gun directly at them.

  Olivia covered her mouth to stifle a scream, and Valerie simply said, “Oh my God!”

  He began to wave the gun in a way that indicated they should get out of the van. Valerie squeezed Olivia’s hand and nodded to her in a way that urged her to comply. “Just do as he says for now. We have no other choice.”

  “But I don’t understand. What could he want with us?” Olivia asked.

  Lenny’s voice turned harsh. “Enough talk. Get out and walk to the door. And keep quiet. If you scream or try to run, I won’t think twice about shooting you. And when I shoot someone they don’t get up—ever.”

  The women got out of the van and walked slowly, trembling hand in trembling hand, to the door. He held the gun on them while he unlocked the door and then pushed them inside, closing and locking it behind them. “This is your vacation destination. Whether you ever return from this vacation depends on the actions of someone else. We’ll see how important you are to them.”

  The women were in shock. They were so frightened they didn’t notice the condition of their surroundings. Lenny immediately noticed the work that had been done by Annunciata. He detected the odors of bleach and chemicals, probably something used to kill the cockroaches. The counters were still cracked and stained, but they had been cleared of droppings and insects and had been wiped down. The mildew around the sink had been bleached away and the refrigerator was no longer smudged. He hoped she had tended to the inside. It had been plugged in, and he could hear the hum of the motor. Dried food had been scrubbed from the table and the trash had been cleared from the newly swept floor.

  The women stood with their arms around each other, not making a sound, but finally Olivia said, “What is this place? It’s disgusting. Why did you bring us here?”

  Lenny walked over and slapped her hard enough to send her reeling back against the wall. She began to slide down, holding a hand against her cheek. Valerie ran to her, helping to hold her upright as she checked the degree of injury to her face. Her cheek was bright red and she had bitten her lip, which was bleeding slightly. He told the women there was more of the same for each of them if they didn’t cooperate. Valerie fought back her tears and asked for the bathroom. He made some sort of guttural sound and pushed one, then the other, into the tiny bedroom. Taking Valerie by the arm, he walked her into the bathroom. There were no longer any rat droppings in the sink or ants around the drain. The smell of bleach permeated the tiny space, and behind the toilet a box of rat bait was open and ready. He came out, closed the door and held the gun on Olivia while Valerie was inside. When she came out, Olivia was urged to avail herself of the opportunity as well. There was no way they could simultaneously attack him as long as he held a gun on them. They seemed to share that fact in the looks they exchanged.

  He ordered each of them to sit on one of the two mattresses. One was on the floor beside a radiator and the other was beside a folding bed made of heavy metal. He proceeded to handcuff the wrist of each woman—one to the radiator, one to the metal bed. He closed the only window in the stuffy room, and pulled the tattered curtain closed. They were advised that screaming would do no good, that the nearest building was at a distance, and that with the window closed no one could hear them anyway. He went back into the main room and pulled something out of a leather backpack that lay on the table. From the doorway he tossed a bottle of water onto each of the mattresses and told them that he was going out, but only for a short time, and that they’d do best to avoid shedding tears that would dehydrate them. He turned and left, the door slamming hard before they heard the key turn in the lock.

  Neither could believe the reality of what had just happened. In spite of Lenny’s advice, they began to sob, their chests heaving to the point of breathlessness, but their eyes dry. Olivia was the first to speak, her voice trembling. “You must realize that no one will ever find us. I don’t know anybody who would involve me in something like this, do you?”

  “Of course not. And no one knew where we were going other than your boss, right?”

  “Well, your travel agent knew. And I told Clive Warren, the man I just started seeing. He asked me when we could see each other gain, so I told him I’d be gone for a while. He asked when I was leaving and offered to take us to the airport. I told him about our plan
s, but I only met him last week. He’s a tech systems guy for God’s sake—not a criminal.”

  “I know your father’s been involved in a lot of investigations over the years—all sorts of dodgy goings-on. I’m sure he’s made enemies, but he’s been retired for quite a while now. Some crook’s revenge seems quite a stretch. Listen, Olivia, the only thing that matters right now is that we stay alive— do as we’re told. We may be able to glean some information by listening to his phone calls.”

  “That sounds like a long shot. I wonder if anyone else is coming to help watch us. If so, maybe we’ll hear something. A lot of good it will do us to know why. We’re still prisoners.” Olivia drew her knees up under her chin and buried her face in the crook of her free arm.

  Valerie shook her head, realizing she had lost all control over her life. The worries of her London life now seemed the size of an atom. Of one thing she was sure: If it was something in her life that had precipitated their predicament, she couldn’t bear having put Olivia in danger. She bunched up her unrestrained fist and began to pound on the mattress in frustration. Clouds of dust rose from the dingy fabric and spread throughout the room, its motes sparkling in the muted sunlight coming through the curtain.

  After what seemed like hours, the front door opened and they heard Lenny’s heavy footsteps, then the sound of something being dropped on the table, followed by the rustling of plastic bags. The women stayed perfectly quiet and waited for him to check on them. The sound of heavy boots came closer and he appeared in the doorway with a bag in each hand. He reached inside and pulled out a roll of toilet tissue, tossing it onto Olivia’s mattress, and then repeated the action for Valerie. From the other bag he pulled out two thin blankets and threw them over as well. In meek voices, they thanked him. He grunted, turned and walked back to the table in the main room. They heard a scraping sound before he appeared again. In each hand he held a lidded bucket. He walked toward the women and placed one beside each mattress. Appalled, they looked at each other, immediately aware of the buckets’ purpose: There would be no regular trips to the bathroom.