| Visit our Bookstore |
|
|
|
|
Literature Discussion - Lit-Talk.com
Rational Conduct
Click here if you'd like to exchange critiques
Chapter 18 – A Date With the Demon
The subway took David to Grand Central Station. A cab ride, a walk, another cab, and another walk back to Mr. Sing’s tailors. As David looked over his shoulder for Scary, he kind of thought the whole thing was silly. If a guy like Scary wanted to find him, he was found. Scary probably already knew about the suits, his hideout, and everything else. A guy like Scary didn’t need help finding an amateur like David. But did he know of Marcel Richards at 240 Broadway?
David picked up the suits without a hitch. Really very nice, and really not much more expensive than what any rich guy would have spent during the day.
The sun was starting to rise as David hopped a cab in China town and rode it to Brooklyn Heights. He looked good in a very expensive gray pinstriped suit. He felt good too. This was a better quality suit than he was used to and he wished he was high enough on the ladder to afford this. He had risen high enough in the ranks to get from the point of off-the-shelf suits into casual clothing. The regular commercial bankers had to wear suits, while most of the investment bankers wore jeans and comfortable top. He would dress up in business casual for really important guests. But the guys with the form fitted custom suits. They were the big shots. They had private jets and discussed business over five hundred dollar bottles of wine, and they knew the difference between a five hundred dollar bottle and one that cost only one hundred. Those guys had a good life, not like this schlep who was out looking for his kidnapped daughter.
David got off the train at Wall Street and took a cab to Penn Station. It was now nearly seven o’clock when he caught the subway to Grand Central Station and then took the shuttle over to Times Square.
When David exited the cab at 540 Fifth Ave, he now had on a blue pinstripe suit. He left the two thousand dollar gray one in the back seat of the cab.
It was seven 7:45 AM when David strolled up to the doorman. He slipped the doorman three hundred not to notice him going in to see a certain female friend. The doorman didn’t care and would have taken a lot less than three hundred, but the suit had to match the image and the image matched the bribe. As David stepped into the elevator, the doorman had already punched in the security code to let the well dressed, burglar, serial killer onto any floor he wished.
49C was even fancier than expected. The highest floor in a doorman building on Fifth Ave was expected to be nice, but having a unit C meant the floor was shared with at least two others and the owner had to be of only marginally massive wealth.
It was somewhat of a surprise to see that 49C was the only door on the floor. The owner obviously had huge wealth, bought out the other two or three apartments, and was now the owner of the entire penthouse floor. The fact that David couldn’t see the surveillance cameras that had to be there was yet another sign of extreme wealth. Good. A guy of this wealth would appreciate a fine tailored suit.
David’s knock went unanswered but for a bussing noise and a slight opening of the door as the magnetic locks unlatched. He walked in.
Beautiful, but not opulent. Very contemporary, but not to David’s taste. Glass tables, art deco sculptures, silver leather couches and a combination of marble floors and contemporary patterned rugs. The ceiling was fifteen feet tall, and the living room was large, even by wealthy New York standards. Though Mr. Richards’ place had the best views in the area, he had the curtains drawn. Bad taste, and not even the sense to use the views he had paid for.
“Mr. Knapp I presume.”
Mr. Richards was about the same height as David, but much thinner and of slight build. Well tanned and apparently well educated. His greeting was crisp and clear, and revealed no particular accent, but it was obvious he was well traveled as his speech reflected both time spent in the United States and the rest of the world. He had stepped out from behind a frosted glass wall that seemed to separate the kitchen area from the living room where David now stood.
“I’m glad you came to see me. We really need to talk.“
He stepped down two marble stairs and walked across the living room towards his guest.
David was nervous but getting angrier by the second. He tried not to show the anger as any info given to the other team was bound to be used against him. Marcel was obviously a bright man skilled at negotiation, and likely had no problem reading through the disguise.
“You’ve had a tough weekend, and here it is Monday already. I understand you are likely a be a bit angry and tired, but I’d like you to sit with me for a moment, and perhaps we can work things out.”
“I really hadn’t expected your visit, but I see you came prepared and have good taste. ”
David looked down at the champagne bottle in his left hand. He had no idea who made it, he only he knew it wasn’t Dom Perignon. He wanted a five hundred dollar bottle, but didn’t want the cliché. Rich folks could drink that all they wanted. He was dressed wealthy, and he didn’t want the bottle to say anything less. He placed it on the table, looking around for henchmen.
“You and I are alone and rightly it should be. You have caused me significant embarrassment with many important people. Up to this point you have simply disrupted a network that was there for the lower classed of thieves and perverts, and that bothers me only so slightly. Myself and my acquaintances have no ill feelings toward you for what you have done, and perhaps we deserved it for what we have done to you.”
Marcel was pacing a bit and David recognized a fragment of fear in him. It was not likely the cold gun in his back belt made this man fearful, David was sure he was lying about being alone. He was high up the food chain, but unlikely to be the rainmaker of the deals that went on above. David sensed this man was strained, and was fearful of what those above him may be considering doing to him.
Marcel paced a bit more. He had not expected David and was trying to make words carefully.
“I don’t know how to get where I want to be without telling you so much you don’t need to know. The bottom line is that I want to make a deal with you, but I’m not sure you will be ready to bargain without more of the story. So here I go.”
Marcel moved to the glass coffee table near the couches, and motioned David to sit. He placed two champagne glasses on the table, along with some fresh Danish.
“Please sit. I assure you I want to deal, and you will have no trouble while we sit here. If we fail to agree, we become adversaries once more, and all gloves are off. Believe me I have no intention of messing with you here in my home. You have proven all too adept at the use of handguns. And the fire bit….. You are motivated!”
Marcel sat back in the comfortable but firm couch, champagne in his hand.
“Do you mind?”
David nodded and Marcel began to work on opening the bottle.
“I am at war with a friend of yours. Some of the things my partners and I do are… well...not exactly approved of in many countries. Some of what we do is business and some is to satisfy the indulgences of wealthy but rather peculiar associates.”
David was getting angrier by the second. The cool tone, the smooth talk, and the cold detachment. ‘Not approved of.’, ‘indulgences’ is that what kidnapping and murder was.
“As it happens, an associate of yours lives an unusual life, and has made my life difficult and possibly dangerous. Frankly, if he keeps operating this way, I will be shut down. I had your daughter taken to bring you into the picture and trap your friend.”
David felt a surge of panic again. The kidnapping was no freak event and David had led them directly to Artie. Panic was turning to anger, and anger to rage, when a logical thought came to mind, bringing him to his senses and relieving the killer’s urge to start firing wildly into the arrogant slime in front of him. He calmed enough to listen. To hear if his proposal included returning Ashley.
“You see your friend has this magical way of hiding. He doesn’t exist in flesh and blood like you and me. The only way I could find him, was to bring him into my world. And you… You unwittingly helped me with that.”
Again David felt pain. He was no super hero, he was a fool. A sheep who had led the others into slaughter.
“Artie, as you know him, is a pretty smart guy. He sold enough technology to my competitors to make my life much more difficult than it had been. In turn, they make tremendous efforts to protect him, and allow him to get away with what I cannot.”
Marcel sipped the champagne. David picked up his glass and took a sip.
“I actually have no ill will for your friend either; I just need to dispose of him and his equipment. You see, we don’t like people watching us.”
“Governments have an obligation to try and track people like me. Their populations demand they do it. But governments employ people who work thirty five hour weeks, and go on vacations. These diversions from their work allow us to work three times harder than them, undoing what they have done, waiting for them to sleep, and buying what we need from them.”
“Your friend Artie is making life difficult. He follows us constantly. Looking down from above. He shows up everywhere, and frankly, we have no idea why he is doing this or what he wants.”
“I’m hoping you can help me with my problem. “
David wanted to help him all right. This creature took Ashley. He was after his best friend, and he was a scum ball liar that could never be trusted to keep a deal.
“I have your daughter. “
David thought he heard something important, and now he knew he was hearing it for a second time. He didn’t really hear it the first time it was said. It was too painful and could not be true. He had gone beyond caring about anything but killing. Ashley was dead. He looked into the eyes of the madman.
“Yes. That is what I said. I have your daughter.”
The stakes had risen again. David wanted to shoot him on the spot. He didn’t enjoy killing Tiernan. Sheldon killed himself. The guys in the sedan killed themselves. Vic was scum and Diego was obviously a bad guy. But this guy topped them all. He made all of this happen, and sat here in the seat of power negotiating the life of little Ashley. David tried not to look pissed. He wanted to be calm. If he was to kill this guy, he would need to have his wits about him.
“You have information I want, and I have what you want. Your friend Artie is toast. I’m sorry to say it, but you should not feel badly. He got himself into this and he knew the risks. You should not feel badly as you didn’t set him up. If anything it is you that have the right to be mad at him. Nobody ever would have touched your family if he had behaved himself. If he accepted our offer, and if he was not your friend.”
Marcel hated Artie. It could be seen in his face, in his fists, he voice. Obviously the two had been squaring off for some time.
“Your friend sealed his own fate by messing with me”
He looked like a little Napoleon. Thought he was ruler of the world. He acted tough. He acted like he had Artie, but David was sure Marcel was about to meet his Waterloo.
“What I want is this. You have a package given to you by a courier. In that package are names and addresses. I want them. You have a hard drive from Vic’s. I want that as well. I doubt there is anything on it that interests me, but the man was an ogre and I like to be sure of these things. In return, I give you your daughter and your freedom.”
“We had your daughter taken, and your cell phone tapped. Your call to Artie got us a digital connection which we started to use to worm into his system. We have been working through the net looking for him for years, but couldn’t trace him. You see he has this system that seems to be everywhere and nowhere at once. When he started working for you he connected to our site, or at least sites we had set up for him.”
“You tricked the feds by switching cars, and Artie’s cleverness with the phone system put us out of touch for a while, but we found you again. We often monitor the feds, but they weren’t much help this time even with your call to your buddy Joel. I have to admit we lost you for a while, but another group of internet pee-ons that have been spying on us, seemed to have found a way to find you. We picked you up once you got into the first car in New York.”
“We tracked you over to Mr. Tiernan's house. Never expected you to kill that beast. Turning on the computer was also unexpected. Your buddy Arte did us some damage there, but the losses proved worth it as this drew us closer to him. I’m curious where you got the gun from. And would you care to tell me how you took out my other two associates with your bare hands?"
David didn’t say a word. He had no need to drag Joe into it, and he had no idea what he meant about the other two associates, unless he meant the guys in the car. But they obviously had an accident. David said nothing.
“When you killed Tiernan, we decided you were too dangerous and the mission was to stop there, and you obviously met the other two gentlemen sent to greet you. Quite skillful for a banker.’
Marcel said this in a degrading tone, and David found it amusing a man of wealth would bother with such childish insults. It didn’t hurt David, but made him realize just how insecure Marcel was. He was obviously just another level of pee-on., and he was scared. Maybe more scared than David.
“Loosing you here in New York, with our systems compromised was not much fun. I had a bit of trouble sleeping that night. “Marcel paused and poured himself another drink.
“Getting rid of Sandy was another interesting move. The coroner’s report said you actually did overdose him. Interesting move. Not as brutal as fire. But still, interesting.” He again sipped lightly from the champagne.
David contemplated the strength of his enemies that assured an autopsy was conducted on a Sunday, and likely had the report before the authorities.
“I have to admit that turning that machine on gave me a bit of a fright. I hadn’t expected anything so fast. But it helped us find you, or at least give us an idea where you were going.”
“Almost got you in Jersey City. Again you impressed me. Two more hired hands gone. You began to worry me. I have dealt with the authorities, I’ve dealt with Arties, and I’ve dealt with vigilantes, but you have surprised me. How your friend Artie knew you were there I’m not sure. Seems he may have received a warning”
“So we lost you again. That’s when you showed up at Vic’s. I guess we weren’t thinking straight. We’re used to tracking people electronically. You lost the first GPS when you abandoned your car, the second when you dumped the Audi, and we haven’t had a good trace on you since.”
“Well... we obviously got to Vic’s late, and apparently you torched him and took his hard drive. I’m still a bit amused by that one. You are vicious.
There’s nothing on that hard drive I want, but the folks who have your daughter are unlikely to give her back without it. You see, I don’t play their games. They are a bad element we sometimes deal with to get what we need. As I myself don’t traffic in children, I had nowhere to turn but the experts. They were kind enough to help me out, but their patience grows thin with the murder and theft of their material. It hasn’t been easy to convince them to keep little Ashley Alive.”
Now Marcel was getting nasty. He was playing the trump card. He claimed she was still alive, and was threatening her life. Alive or not, toying with Ashley angered David and he had trouble hiding it. This seemed to please Marcel, as he helped himself to yet another glass of champagne.
“You should have been finished at Diego’s. He was expendable and should have already left…. Tough guy thought he was a player and died for it. That’s what he gets for not following recommendations.”
“At best, Diego was bait, but again you surprised us. Two more worker bees out of service. That really did piss me off.”
Marcel’s voice was changing. His universal accent was disappearing and was being replaced with a sort of Bronx anger one might expect at a Yankees game.
“I want the hard drive and I want the info Sandy gave you. I want anything you took from Vic and Diego. I want to know all you know. If I don’t get it, you die, your kid dies, and your whole family dies.”
David was in control now. Marcel was loosing it. He was angry and he was showing it. He was becoming sloppy and careless, and he was beginning to look as though he had been up for days. David knew he was smarter than Marcel, but was used to playing these sick games, and hadn’t prepared for this kind of fight.
“I appreciate the story.” David started. “It’s good to know a little history before making a deal, and that is what we are here for. I know something of making deals”
Marcel leaned forward and filled his glass yet again.
“I want my daughter back, and I want out of this for good. You and Artie and the feds and whoever else can fight this out among yourselves. I want no part of this. Never did. But you see, I have a problem. You are a hunter, and I’m like an innocent little bunny rabbit. If I walk away now, who’s to say you won’t kill me later.”
David enjoyed the imagery of the little rabbit. A little rabbit that had killed a score of thugs and sickos, and a rabbit that had a guy like Scary Dude behind him. David wondered where Scary was right now.
David waited for a response from Marcel. He had none, and Marcel was beginning to look like he felt the liquor.
David started the conversation. “Here’s my deal. You have nothing I want other than my daughter and the freedom of my family. I’ll give you the hard drive the list and any other info I have. I will keep what I have in mind, and some other goodies stashed somewhere that will only be opened in the event of my death or an attack on any of my family. I’ll give everything to whomever you want, once I pick up my daughter.”
Marcel leaned forward from the couch. “How do I know you have anything I want.”?
David stood up and pulled the hard drive from his pocket, and placed it on the table out of Marcel’s reach. Marcel seemed unimpressed. David then took out the list sent to him from Artie, and slid this across the table.
Marcel almost lunged at it. His reflexes were poor and he almost appeared drunk from the three glasses of champagne. He was a mean drunk and becoming more belligerent by the second. He pulled the paper up to his eyes scanning it. David was amused. Marcel obviously hadn’t heard that the list had been sent all over the internet. Perhaps he was already out of the loop.
“You had more than I thought. What else have you got?”
David Pulled out the last page of Sandy’s notes. The yellow paper seemed to hold some attraction to Marcel. Certainly more appeal than the hard drive. David held it in front of himself and ripped it in half, throwing half of it across the table to the drunk, and pushing the other half in his pocket. He then picked up the hard drive and put that in his jacket pocket.
“I deliver the hard drive directly to the creeps in exchange for my daughter, and I either give them the other half of the paper or burn it in front of them. Your choice.”
“You seem to like fire. I say destroy it by fire. I am a man of my word, and I assure you we have a deal.”
Marcel started to rise as if the deal was done.
“Marcel, please keep in mind that I have other information that I will hold quite secure from your eyes. In the event you don’t keep your end of the bargain, I assure you, you will regret it.”
David thought Marcel looked surprised by the yellow sheet of paper Sandy had provided. Again David was amused. He was almost tempted to let him know he had three more pages.
Marcel flopped back into the couch and stated quickly “Done.”
Marcel filled another glass and made a hand gesture towards a room concealed from David’s view. A rather large man emerged from around the corner. If this is what he meant by alone, David wondered what the rest of his words meant. He wanted to kill them both right there.
“Give him the kid.”
The large henchman walked toward the fugitive and handed him an index card with a printed address and directions. It was a warehouse in Bridgeport, Connecticut. David recognized the address. The property had been in a large deal that was turned down late last year. It was awful real estate. Totally unusable, and was supposed to have been torn down. Apparently, it still stood. The property was only fifteen minutes from his house, and the creeps could easily have gotten there in twenty on the back roads.
David stood and addressed Marcel. “I can’t say it was nice doing business with you. I hope I never see you again.”
Marcel simply grinned, and took another sip of the exceptional champagne.
With that, he turned and headed out. He would call a black car to take him back to Connecticut. There they would likely try to kill him. There he might find his daughter. There she might be dead or alive.
As soon as David left the room, Marcel picked up the phone again. “Kill them both. Let him see her first but kill them both.” Marcel was tired. He had been up for days dealing with this virus. This flea that had caused him to itch. He was tired he wanted him dead and wanted to go to bed.
“Once they are dead call me.”
Marcel would never get a call. Sandy had assured Marcel’s demise. The remaining six bottles of methadone had replaced the glass of champagne David drank in the cab. If one tries hard enough they can get the lead wrapping off the cork intact, and can even get the cork back in the bottle, so that even some high and mighty aristocrat type can’t tell whether it’s been filled with water or piss or even a very deadly clear narcotic, available on many street corners. Good night Marcel.