Stealing Flowers (42 page)

I went back to the master chart and
restudied it. We heard a noise out in the hall and sat perfectly
still. Then we heard voices. Peter attached a silencer to his gun
and my heart fluctuated wildly. Without meaning to, I studied the
chart and one word caught my attention, Moses. When the voices
receded, I went to the ‘M’ drawer, a bottom one, and sat on the
floor going through it. In the first folder, I found a thick file
under Moses.

I passed the file to Peter. It was a
complete dossier on Tappets with pictures of our senior people, and
my family, Hiro Nakamura, and even Una. Moreover, it even had a
photograph of Andy’s family. But what was also amazing was that
there were pictures of David Moses, the leader of The Family of
Truth, whom I recognized from photographs, pictures of Sally with
her Family of Truth’s Denver squad of flower-sellers, and
pornographic pictures of Love Israel, Divine Love, naked and making
out with some of the elders. I remembered Rick Edwards making fun
of David Moses. ‘Lies, lies, lies,’ he would sing, mocking his
high-pitch and lifeless voice, and ridiculing what he called the
hokey-pokey Divine Principle of the Family of Truth. Reading
through it quickly, we saw that the name Zortichii came from David
Zortichii, Moses Truth’s birth name.

“Why isn’t the place guarded?” I asked.

“From David Zortichii to David Moses to
Moses Truth,” he whispered with a shrug. “He evolved just like the
members of the Hostility Branch. But how could Lloyd Mills be in
league with these guys?”

After we left, he phoned his son and we
headed straight to the Tanner Place in Manhattan, and when we
arrived, I could see that not much security existed here either.
The front entrance, remained unlocked. It was two a. m. We found
Kwong’s apartment number and took the stairwell to his floor. I was
surprised to see Josh waiting for us. Both father and son put on
ski-masks, I still wore my beard, and Peter unlocked Kwong’s door.
We crept in and closed the door quietly behind us. Peter and Josh
attached silencers to their pistols. My heart felt like it was
going to explode, but I was happy as well. I saw a handgun on the
coffee table in its holster near a vase of fresh flowers and picked
it up. It was a Thompson. We snuck down the dark hallway and saw
the strewn clothes on the floor in the corridor.

The door of one of the bedroom stood ajar
with the lights on. We could here a couple making out. I moved
behind Peter in such a way that the bed came into view first. I saw
a Korean woman with Kwong. They were both naked and he was on top,
pumping her rapidly and hard. Peter jumped forward and pointed his
Biretta to Kwong’s temple. “Stay perfectly still,” he shouted, but
not too loudly. The young woman looked like she might scream and he
put his index finger to his lips in warning. “I need a name,” he
said to Kwong, “then we’ll be gone without anyone being hurt.”

Kwong seemed not to react, although I saw
the fear in his eyes as he looked at us and saw that we were all
armed. I think he might have recognized me and so must have been
doubly fearful. Peter moved his pistol to Kwong’s lower leg, and
without hesitation, shot him. I jumped back and let out a gasp. The
small hole in his leg began to spurt with bright fresh blood. Kwong
cried out in pain and curled into a fetal position on the bed,
holding his wound, and freeing the woman to cover herself. His
penis had shriveled up into an inch.

“I need a name,” Peter repeated.

“Who?” Kwong gasped.

“The killer of Cheryl Garland and Graham
Roberts.” A silence followed and a film of sweat spread over
Kwong’s hairless upper body. The Chinese girl sobbed and the
blankets turned red. Peter lowered the gun to Kwong’s other leg,
whose gaze followed it.

“They’ll kill me,” Kwong said

“I’ll give you twelve hours to get out of
the country. Now name the man or die.”

“Lloyd Mills.”

“He paid you the final installment today?”
Kwong nodded. “Were you the shooter?”

“An L.A. crew did it.”

“The guy with the shaved head?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Who killed Sally Tappet?”

“I’d nothing to do with that.”

“If your facts check out, I’ll give you your
twelve hours. If you warn Lloyd, I’ll come after you.” Peter
signaled us and we backed up into the shadows of the hallway. We
descended the stairs at a run and sped away in his car. Josh took
the Thompson out of my clenched fist.

“Good thing the safety was on,” he said.

My heart raced until we reached the highway.
From there, we drove home. “Wake up your parents and Una,” Peter
said when we arrived and made himself a drink.

Mary and Stan came from their rooms and
looked rather disheveled, but as always Una was focused and ready
for anything. Stan shook Peter’s hand, then Josh’s. “What is it, my
friends?” Dad asked.

“We got him!” Peter returned and passed him
the files, “It’s in here. A professional mechanic from the west
coast killed Cheryl Garland and Graham Roberts, an assassin hired
by Lloyd Mills. It’s connected to the plans of The Zortichii Group.
Both Lloyd and The Family of Truth are involved, just as Burlington
hinted in court. The name Zortichii is from David Zortichii, Moses
Truth’s birth name. They are a consortium controlled by Barry Town
Investments. This in turn, is controlled by Zortichii Enterprises,
which is controlled by Moses Truth and the Family.”

Mary had grown pale, but managed a weak
smile. I felt so sorry for my parents, and especially her; this
wouldn’t bring Sally back no matter how successful we were. I’d
introduced Lloyd Mills to the Tappets; In their deepest darkest
hearts, how could they ever forgive me?

“Lloyd can’t be alone,” Peter continued. “I
don’t know who are involved, but at least Kyoto Takeshi and some
other executives. Any legal maneuvering that Lloyd could make
publicly with one or two long term executives at his side would
certainly place downward pressure on the market price of Tappets.
Afterward, the consortium would come in, make a surprisingly
generous offer compared with what the market expected to produce.
Lloyd and his people would be placed in charge.”

“He’s in charge now,” Mary said.

“But not permanently.” Mary shook her head,
but I couldn’t tell whether in disgust or disbelief. “If Tappets
took on a massive expansion of credit,” Peter continued, “and
puffed up its assets. In a year or so after this, Tappets could be
worth twice the price.”

Stan pressed down his hair and brushed down
his moustache with his right hand. “How does this help Christian
though?”

“We have met with a Korean named Kwong
Katigbaki. I believe, he’s the one who was the go-between for Lloyd
and the deaths of Cheryl Garland and Graham Roberts. He’s denied
having anything to do with Sally’s death, but today Kwong met with
Lloyd and Swift Retribution, who is traveling with three other
members of The Hostility Branch of The Family of Truth. We need
one, perhaps two more days to corner them. I’m pretty sure that
they’re Sally’s murderers, but perhaps Lloyd doesn’t realize it.
That would explain more than a few things.”

“How can that be?” Mary asked. “This Kwong
had nothing to do with Sally’s death?”

“The Hostility Branch of The Family of
Truth, didn’t kill Cheryl and Graham, they killed Sally. These are
the same men who raped her, also probably the same men who killed
Rick Edwards, but I don’t think Kwong or Lloyd know about them.
Perhaps Lloyd is being used by someone indirectly involved. Maybe
they have tapped into his greed to run the business and he has
become blind to everything else.”

“But he must have known,” Stan
interrupted.

“He really couldn’t have had a direct
involvement with the murder,” Peter said. “Still though, maybe
someone from The Zortichii Group got them to be available to Graham
Roberts through him, but even here, he might be innocent in regards
to it.”

“But if he’s in at all,” Mary said, “doesn’t
that damn him completely? After all, Sally and he were involved in
a close relationship at some point and Tappets has employed him his
whole adult life?”

“This sounds like a lot of speculation,” I
said, speaking for the first time.

“We’ll go through the files carefully,”
Peter said, “and see what else we can find. Do nothing about this
for two days,” he added. “If you haven’t heard from me in this
time, go to the police, to Detective Cramer.”

For the next two days, Peter, Josh, and I
met in anonymous diners in Jersey to go over the files. Peter and
Josh were still not living at home and were motivated to get to the
bottom of it quick, but it was perplexing. No direct connection to
Lloyd Mills could be made and if we hadn’t seen it for ourselves
and heard it from Kwong’s mouth, we wouldn’t have believed it.

“We should just scare it out of him,” Josh
suggested when his father was out of earshot. I nodded and we met
secretly that night to discuss it. Since Josh had been trailing
Lloyd, he knew what to do, where to go. Ashe agreed to help us.

That next night at ten o’clock when I came
into The Tin Island Bar, I was packing Kwong’s Thompson. An
annoying repetitive song played from the speakers as I waited for
Lloyd. Although cool air blew in where I sat near the door, I
sweated inside of my cotton sports-jacket. A small crowd had
gathered, some of them ate, but most of them talked and drank. The
bar held bands of powerful electric light flooding in from the
ceiling, but there was something old, even gaudy about it.

I saw a young man who reminded me of Silent
Peace when I’d first met him. He stood with a pale thin girl, maybe
seventeen, who seemed unfocused and drunk, but otherwise, quite
pretty. Where Josh hid, I didn’t know, but close-by. I took my
drink and found a quiet booth near the back exit, as planned. An
hour slipped away as I daydreamed about revenging Sally’s death.
She’d brought us into contact with those robots on the bus, and she
being the stronger and smarter, as far as I was concerned, I sort
of blamed her for it. But of course, it was also an accident of
fate and that had more to do with The First Law of Life for orphans
and those others born unlucky, then any chance act of God.

Lloyd finally entered the bar, alone, just
as Josh predicted. He looked even more thin and pale and I knew he
was anxious. I stayed perfectly still. I was in disguise but I
covered my face with my hands as well. When Lloyd sat down at the
bar, I rose and left, then headlights flashed and I rushed over to
our rental car, hopping into the backseat. “Where’s Josh?” I asked
Ashe in a rush.

“You’ve got too much adrenaline running,”
she said, “relax. Lloyd will likely be crying in his drink for a
while. I saw him. He’s a nervous boy, let’s hope he doesn’t hang
around long. I’m pretty certain that he’s armed. You’ll have to get
his gun from him just like I’ve shown you. Remember, we’re breaking
every law in New York State, if we aren’t killed, we’re going to
jail. This is okay for you, you’re going anyway, but I’m getting
married this year.” I was too nervous to laugh. “Remember,” Ashe
continued, with a sympathetic look, “he’s frightened. Nothing worse
than fear in the enemy. Just as the old man always says, ‘It’s two
steps from courage and one step from panic.’”

An hour later the two-way radio crackled.
“Okay boys and girls,” the voice of Josh said, “this is it!
Over.”

“We’re ready,” Ashe said. “Out.”

I stepped out of the car and walked quickly
to the side of the bar. I caught sight of Josh behind the far
corner of the other side of the building, then I spotted Lloyd. The
breeze had picked up and the poor light in the parking lot didn’t
show up even the pot-holes. His Jaguar was forty yards away and I
came up about thirty feet behind him. Then the Jaguar literally
blew apart in a violent brilliant explosion and flew five feet
straight up into the air, parts flew everywhere. This was Josh’s
doing. I could see that more than a little bit of revenge had went
into it. I caught up and put Kwong’s Thompson into Lloyd’s back.
“Don’t make any sudden moves,” I whispered. I reached forward and
slowly took the gun from out of his front right jacket pocket, just
where Ashe had promised it would be.

“I thought of just letting you get into your
car,” I said bitterly “so consider this your lucky day.” The
explosion drew attention from the patrons of the bar, who came out
all in one crowd. Ashe flashed the car’s lights as though to hurry
us. “Over there,” I said and pushed him forward with the tip of
Kwong’s Thompson.”

“What do you want?” he mumbled.

I thought he was going to cry. “If you want
to stay alive, shut up. You’ll find out soon enough. More than one
person can hire killers and blow up cars.”

“You’re making a huge mistake.”

I pushed him forward again. As we approached
the car, Ashe jumped out, wearing a ski-mask. She seized Lloyd by
the arm and shook him quickly down, searching for any other
weapons. She gave him a rough push into the backseat and cuffed his
hands as a precaution. We raced west to Manhattan, with Josh
following in another rental car. I knew that we weren’t so far from
where Lloyd lived in his luxurious apartment building; he’d be able
to walk home when we were done. We took two short residential
streets south, and one over, east. In a low-rise vacant building, I
took Lloyd to a room lit with a single dull uncovered ceiling
light. I tied him securely into a wooden chair. Unseen, Josh and
Ashe watched from the corridor.

In the upper corners, spider’s webs and dust
balls hung from the ceiling. Graffiti, much of it in crypt, covered
the gorged filthy walls. An old desk, turned on its side, had been
partly vandalized and the top had been scorched with lighters, but
outside of that, the empty room had little but an echo and useless
debris. It was a perfect place for this sort of thing; whatever
sort of thing we were doing. I guess you could call it shaking the
tree. I was a fairly desperate man. Slowly, and in front of him, I
took off my disguise.