Body Guard (19 page)

O
N THE FLIGHT
back to Denver, Kirk finished the draft of his report on Eckles. The man had tried again and again to convince him that the claim should be withdrawn, and Kirk had replied again and again that it wasn’t his decision to make. Finally, as Kirk tugged himself loose from the grasping fingers, Eckles had begged Kirk not to say anything to his sister about the fraud. Mrs. Eckles never returned from the kitchen to hear him plead.

If Eckles’s insurance company followed standard procedures, the colonel was in a lot more trouble than Devlin cared to tell him about. To start with, his name would go on the shitlist and any insurance coverage would be hard to get. More important, and Devlin knew Allen Schute and Security Underwriters would take care of this as soon as the report was received tomorrow, Colonel Eckles’s name would be turned over to the FBI for investigation of mail fraud and wire fraud. And that, given Eckles’s need for a security clearance to hold his present job at Avionics Instruments, would leave the man stranded. All for the sake of chiseling a few thousand dollars off an insurance policy.

It wasn’t satisfaction Kirk felt as he walked the long, almost empty corridors of Stapleton Airport toward the baggage claim. It was a shade of sadness. So far, Eckles had gotten what he deserved. Now that he was caught, the man would learn how impersonally vindictive a righteous insurance company could be. They would make an example of him. Eckles would be pursued through the courts by an army of attorneys whose reputation depended on the amount of blood they squeezed from that particular turnip.

Still the man had brought it on himself. Like any other thief, he wanted something for nothing. How he got it made no difference. Like any other thief, the Colonel had put his own greed ahead of the rights of others, and the only error he perceived was getting caught.

Kirk rode down the escalator past cleaning crews that moved with the contented slowness of people putting in their time. At the luggage carousel, a handful of sleepy passengers waited for their baggage to thump down the ramp onto the broad aluminum apron. Devlin fished his suitcase from the tumbled pile and drove home through cold streets to be greeted by the glow of Mrs. Ottoboni’s porch light and the red gleam of the telephone answerer beside the living room phone. He took time to pry off his shoes and open a beer before turning on the tape.

Among the several routine calls was Bunch’s voice: “Dev, call me as soon as you get in.”

He did, and Bunch woke up quickly to tell Kirk about Humphries and the difference between yojimbo and samurai. “I kid you not, Dev—a goddamn yojimbo. That’s what they’re afraid of.”

“You think it’s true?”

“I really don’t know. Mitsuko swears her father would do it. But she’s using Humphries. Hell, they’re using each other. He’s a spoiled rich kid who wants to have his cake and eat it too. She’s playing her own game and I can’t quite figure it out.”

“We can’t keep them under surveillance twenty-four hours a day, Bunch. We don’t have the people for it.”

“Right. I told him. But he’s safe enough as long as he’s at home. There’s plenty of electronics to warn of anybody coming after him there. And I hooked up an automatic nine-one-one to the sheriff’s office. All he has to do is flip a switch and the call goes out.”

“So what’s that give the killer? A half hour to do the job? Come on, Bunch.”

“Closer to twenty minutes. I also showed them where to barricade themselves in the house while waiting for the cops. And how to use a thirty-eight—I figure a revolver’s better for them than an automatic. Anyway, when they’re at home, they’ll be warned and armed. It’s the best we can do without moving in with them, Dev.”

That left Humphries’ place of work and the trip back and forth. The office complex had its own security force and clearances, so with a few additional precautions, he’d be safe enough on the job. “What’s his transportation setup? Chauffeur or convoy?”

“Convoy. I went ahead and hired Peterson to help out. Humphries didn’t want to do it. He wanted to rent a goddamn armored car and drive it himself. But I convinced him it was better to have Peterson convoy two times a day.”

That was true—two cars gave an assailant more to worry about than a single one. “Peterson knows what he’s facing?”

“I filled him in. And I’ll be along too.”

That seemed okay to Devlin. Peterson, despite his soft and pudgy appearance, was a competent man for bodyguard work, and Devlin had used him before. “Sounds fine, Bunch.”

“Here’s topic number two. I checked the tap on Minz about an hour ago.”

“And?”

“Well, good old Louise is still after the guy. Wants to know if he’s trying to avoid her, and if he is, all he has to do is tell her, because she sure as hell isn’t going to sit around waiting for any man to call her.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Just thought you’d be interested. There were a couple more messages on so-called real estate deals. And a very familiar voice: your buddy and mine calling to say the shipment from Pensacola’s due sometime next week.”

“Vinny?”

“Didn’t give his name. Didn’t have to.”

“Pensacola. That’s in west Florida. That’s where the Advantage Corporation has its East Coast manufacturing plant.”

“You suffering too much jet lag to go over and spoil Vinny’s beauty sleep?”

Vinny had moved his office into his apartment. It was a suite of rooms on the first floor of a large red stone mansion that had been cut up for rentals. He said that business fell off after one of his clients was found dead in his old office. Besides, this arrangement was better for tax purposes: part of his utilities and rent could be listed as business expenses. And it cut down on commuting time too. The outside lock on the front door of the house took Kirk about two minutes before it squeaked open to a hallway that held permanent odors of boiled cabbage and ineffectual detergents. Bunch said it was bush-league time, and to prove it, picked Vinny’s door in one minute, four seconds. The door was bolted from the inside by a safety chain which Bunch snipped with a pair of cutters. They eased into the living room/office, with its mixture of well-worn couch, gray metal desk with crooked drawers, stuffed and sagging armchair with neighboring lamp, filing cabinet, and a scattering of men’s and women’s clothes strewn in a hasty trail toward an open door.

Vinny and another figure lay tangled in the covers on an oversize waterbed while the dull light of a television screen showed the various pinks and browns of bodies entwined and grunting. Bunch noiselessly shut the windows and pulled the curtains tight. Devlin groped for Vinny’s pistol under his pillow and set it across the room near an uneasily burping lava lamp.

“Vinny … oh, Vinny … Someone here to see you … .” Bunch rocked the blotchy flesh of the man’s shoulder.

He knuckled a gummy eye and snorted. Kirk flipped on the bedside light and the eye popped open, bloodshot and startled. “What the hell!” Beside him, the woman groaned and pulled the covers over her head.

“What the hell are you people—”

Bunch shut off the panting and gasping VCR. “Can’t you do it without a training film, Vinny?”

The sound of a second male voice popped the woman’s head out of the covers. “Who are you? Vinny, who are these men? What’s going on here?”

Devlin tossed her a grimy towel from the floor. “Scram.”

“Better get rid of her, Vinny. We need some privacy.”

“You need some privacy! What the hell about me? What the hell do you—”

Bunch sat on him. The bed gurgled, and the big man jammed a hard knuckle into the thin bone under Vinny’s nose. “Keep mouthing off, fucker. One more word. Go ahead—one … more … word.”

His eyes, blinking tears of pain, squeezed shut and Vinny quivered his head no.

“Get out,” Kirk said to the woman. “Now.”

“Well I can’t just—”

“Now!”

Gathering the towel around her lumpy body, she backed into the living room and office to grope for her clothes. Her wide eyes watched Kirk and Bunch as she hopped on one foot and jabbed the other at her underwear.

Bunch rose and pulled the covers off Vinny. “Stand up, my man. We talk.”

“Let me get my goddamn pants on, Homer!”

He wrapped a wide hand around Vinny’s neck and lifted him like a plucked chicken out of the tangle of bedclothes. Vinny’s eyes bulged and he made little gack-gack-gack noises as Bunch carried him in one hand to the middle of the bedroom carpet. “What’s my name?”

“Gack-gack-gack.”

He set the man down. “What’s my name?”

“Bu … unch …” It came out a wheeze but they could understand it.

“And your name is Asshole. Now, Asshole, we want to know about the shipment coming in and we want to know why you didn’t tell us.”

“What—?”

“Vinny, Vinny, Vinny. Don’t fib to us. You’ll get a lump of coal in your stocking.” Bunch smiled—an unnerving sight—and nodded toward Kirk. “And Devlin there is royally pissed at you. He takes these things personally. I don’t know how long I can keep him under control.”

Vinny’s eyes slanted Kirk’s way to see what the grim and weary face was meditating. He hurried to explain. “I didn’t know about it until today. Honest to God. I just found out this afternoon.”

Behind Kirk, a final zipper yanked and the door closed hurriedly. “You should have called in.”

“I was going to—believe me. But this broad, you know, we had a couple beers at the Rocky and got to talking to each other. Man, it wasn’t my fault! What the hell would you do? She was all over me—”

“The shipment, Vinny. Tell us now.”

“There’s a shipment. I heard there’s a shipment. It’s coming from somewhere back east. That’s all I know. Honest!”

“Where back east?”

“I don’t—”

“He’s fibbing again, Dev.”

Kirk stepped forward. “That’s naughty.” Bunch had trained in karate and tae kwon do. He liked the hitting and punching techniques of those styles. Devlin preferred the holds and throws of jujitsu and judo—an affinity growing out of his high school days on the wrestling team and the Secret Service training in how to grapple with assailants. Leverage and body joints, like the wrist that Vinny was lifting to ward him off. You grasped the thumb side of the hand firmly and twisted back to skew the upper body off balance. Then, combining a sweep of the leg at your opponent’s feet with a straight pull on the bent wrist and a stiff arm to the opposite shoulder, you could lever your opponent to the ground, where an immobilizing hold could be effected by making use of your knee under his elbow.

“Goddamn! Quit it—that hurts!”

“Where back east?”

“Pensacola. Pensafuckingcola!”

“Stand up, Vinny.” Kirk said. “Tell us more. In fact, tell us everything.”

“There’s a shipment of coke coming in from Pensacola. That’s someplace in Florida.” He flexed his arm and winced. “It’s coming in sometime this week but I don’t know the exact day.”

“How’s it coming?”

“By truck. It’s in a bigger shipment of company parts. Martin’s got some kind of code so he knows what container it’s in.”

“What kind of code?”

“I don’t know! Honest to God, I don’t know that! I got the word from Atencio, not from Martin. He knows what Martin’s got set up, but he don’t know how it’s done. Martin’s never told him, so he couldn’t tell me.”

“You and Atencio real asshole buddies now?”

“No, not real buddies. We talk. I share a joint with him, we talk, that kind of thing. I told him I wanted to make some big money and he asked if I cared how and I said no.”

“That, we believe.”

“Well, I had to lie, didn’t I? I had to get next to him. That’s what you wanted me to do, ain’t it?”

“We also wanted you to keep us informed.”

“I’m doing it! I’m doing it right now. I was going to call you first thing in the morning—all you people had to do was … How’d you find out anyway?” His eyes darted to the telephone beside his bed and he massaged his elbow while he thought. “You fuckers got a tap on my phone!”

“We knew your life was venial and boring, Vinny. But it’s really depressing to find out just how bad it is.”

“Hey, I do all right! You saw that broad I had tonight, didn’t you? I do all right, Kirk!”

“If you want to keep doing all right, you do the job we’re paying you for.”

“I’m doing it. Who the hell found out about the shipment? It wasn’t you people. It was me!”

“What about that enforcer—Tony? You hear anything about him yet?”

Vinny, a worried wrinkle between his brows, shrugged. “Not much. I know I don’t want to ask nothing about him.”

“What’d you hear? Have you seen him? Has he been around?”

“No—far as I know, he’s still back east. All I know is, Scotty Martin’s scared shitless of the guy.”

“Why?”

“No reason I could tell except he’s a bad dude. Me, I think he’s the organization hit man—something like that. Scotty’s never said anything about … you know, that Newman kid. But Atencio told me Scotty and somebody from out of town had to take care of a fink, and that was the only time he ever saw Scotty really uptight: when he knew that Tony guy was coming in. Atencio thought that was why Eddie Visser skipped too. He thinks Visser heard what Tony and Scotty did to Newman and cut out.”

Bunch tossed him a pair of tangled slacks and Vinny tugged them over his goose-bumped legs. “You call tomorrow after work. You tell us when and where that shipment is coming.”

“Hey, I can’t—”

“Call, Vinny. Give us no shit about it. Just call.”

He hadn’t called by afternoon when Kirk brought Reznick up to date. “Shipped from the Pensacola plant?”

“That’s what I understand, Mr. Reznick. How many containers usually come in from there?”

“Well, the number of loads varies. But each full trailer holds around a hundred units. And sometimes there are three or four trailer loads.” He explained: “They mold the base units at the Pensacola plant and send them to us for assembly with the electrical components from Sunnyvale.”

“California?”

“That’s right. Then we distribute them to the marketing outlets.”

“Can we go through the shipment before it arrives without anyone finding out about it?”