Race (44 page)

“How?” I asked.

He bobbed his head toward the Toyota.
 
It was then that I realized someone was inside his car.
 
I tilted my head.
 
It was Martin, the owner of the BUBBLE T SHOP.
 
He sagged in the backseat with this head low.
 

I went over, tapped on the window and waved.
 
He raised his eyes to me. I then made a fist.
 
He turned and sagged even further.

I heard Garnett’s voice from behind.
 
He was speaking to
Beadsworth
, “He’s willing to make a deal.”

I looked around the corner. Opposite the warehouse, a man walked past the front entrance and came towards us.
 
I recognized him immediately—
Nemdharry
.

“There is a main entrance in the front but it’s bolted.
 
There are two fire exits on either side—those won’t be any problem.
 
We can cover the narrow paths easily.
   
A large loading dock is in the back.
 
On the northeast side there is a closed gate that leads to the dock.
 
Terries is watching over it.”

“Clara is here?” I said and then realized I shouldn’t have referred to her by her first name.
 
I didn’t even know her.
 

Nemdharry
paid no attention to my slight.
 
“Yeah.”

Two minutes later another car pulled up.
  
Herrera came out.
 
“I hope he’s not pulling our balls,” he grunted.
 

Ever since Barnes was hurt, Herrera had been on the edge.
 

Garnett and
Beadswoth
said nothing.

“He better not be shitting us.” Herrera looked in the direction of Garnett’s car.

Garnett finally said.
 
“Carlos, you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Herrera said.
 
He pulled out his gun and checked to see if it was loaded.
 
“What’re we waiting for?”

I was thinking that too.
 

***

Her makeshift office was bare, save for the lone desk and two chairs.
   
Ms. Zee placed her elbows on the desk and her face in her palms.
  
There was so much running through her mind, but in the end it was all directed towards one man.
 
Peter
Stankovich
.
 
Her ex-husband.
 

Peter
Stankovich
had stolen over four million dollars from the clients of the insurance company he had worked for.
 
It was supposed to be a perfect crime.
 
A crime so easy to accomplish that he wondered why no one else had thought of it.
 

He sent one hundred of his clients false invoices regarding their policies.
 
In them, he inflated their monthly premiums.
 
With the help of the funds accountant, he opened another company account, where the money was directly deposited.
 
After taking the excess, he then forwarded the actual premium amount to the correct account.
 

At the end of each year, he sent each client an annual policy statement with the excess premium figures.
   
For three years, no one noticed.
 
The correct amounts were coming in from policyholders.
 
Everything seemed normal.
 
Until, one year the insurance company quietly hired an external company to prepare and send annual policy statements to its clients.
 

When clients received their correct statements they were outraged at the difference from what they were actually paying.

The insurance company received many calls, and all those calls were from clients of Peter
Stankovich
.
  

Peter
Stankovich
and the accountant were convicted of fraud and embezzlement in excess of $5000 and each sentenced to six years.

Peter
Stankovich
was cocky, arrogant, and cruel.
  
That was the way Ms. Zee remembered him.
 

She clearly remembered what he had said to her the last time they had dinner together in their home.
   
“You’re nothing but a stupid spoiled slut.
 
Without me you’d be greeting customers at
Walmart
.”

She wasn’t stupid.
 
Spoiled, yes, but definitely not stupid.
 
She knew what he was up to and she did what he had done to his clients.
 
She opened a separate account, one hidden from him, and each week deposited small amounts into that account.
 
In the end she had a large sum.

With Martin, her lawyer, she took the divorce papers to Peter in jail and had him sign them.
 
He wasn’t happy. It wasn’t the divorce that bothered him. It was the fact that she stole money from him.
 
He tried to get her convicted too, but, as he had once, the jury thought she was just a spoiled housewife, incapable of anything devious.

It was at the jail visiting Peter that she saw Kong.
 
He was in for assault, pending a trial. Through Martin she posted Kong’s bail. Then, she met Armand, and the possibility of out-doing her ex-husband came into being.

***

She lifted her head up and saw the empty room.
 
She hadn’t had time to furnish it, which was a good thing.
  
The only valuable object was the design of
Nex
.
 

Ms. Zee placed the papers in her briefcase and kept it close to her.
 
She understood the situation.
 
She was going to take the samples, which Ed Burrows would bring to her any minute now, and leave the country.
 
She had many contacts and those contacts would be very useful in her escape.

With the process in her hands she could start her operations anywhere—in any country.

Burrows came through the door.
 
In his hands was a sealed white container, the size of an icebox.
 

“There are five thousand in here,” he said.
 

Five thousand tablets of
Nex
, she smiled.
 
This wasn’t a waste, after all.

“Where’s Martin?” Ms. Zee asked.

“I haven’t seen him,” he replied.

She quickly ordered
Hause
to go find him.
 
Martin was going to arrange for everything.
 
He was going to arrange her escape.
 

Hause
came back shaking his head.
  
Martin was gone.
 

Now she was worried.
 

THIRTY-ONE

I was getting nervous.
 
I didn’t know what Garnett was waiting for.
 
Weren’t we ready?
 
I gave
Beadsworth
a
Let’s-go
look.
  
He shrugged.

A Volvo pulled up beside us.
 
The only person missing from Operation Anti-RACE was Barnes.
 
Then the door swung open and out came Sergeant Aldrich.
   

This was going to be good.

“Good work, Detective,” Aldrich said, speaking to Garnett.
 
“Fine work.”

Garnett made no comment.

“Are you certain they are in there?” Aldrich said.
 

“Yes,” Garnett responded.

Aldrich smiled but it didn’t look natural.
  

I wanted to punch him—on his upper lip.

Aldrich came over to me.
 
His blonde hair was perfectly combed.
  
He looked cool, calm and collected. “Officer
Rupret
, I hear you’re the one who cracked open this case.
 
I’m quite certain the intelligence unit will receive a letter of recommendation.”

Martin was sitting inside Garnett’s Toyota.
 
I looked at Aldrich and then at Martin.
 
I did this, maybe three or four times.
 
I then winked at Aldrich.
 
The wink that said,
I know
.

For a split second there was a twitch under his left eye.

“Thank you, sir,” I said, ever so politely.
 
“I’m thinking more about joining internal affairs.”
 
I didn’t know if I was qualified, or capable, but who cared.
 

Aldrich’s other eye twitched.
 
It was entertaining to see the volley of twitches from one eye to the other.
 

Garnett’s voice interrupted my fun.
 
“Sir, should we proceed?” Garnett said.
 

I admired Garnett for keeping himself professional, even though he knew Aldrich was a criminal.

Aldrich coughed.
 
His twitching ceased. “Yes, go ahead, Detective.”

Aldrich was about to move away from me when I said, “Sir, you were right. I
am
young, imaginative, creative and bold.
 
I used all these qualities to solve this case.”

I think he wanted to hit me but he just walked away.

***

When Garnett gave the signal we were at the front of the warehouse in less than a minute.
 
Both
Beadsworth
and I got out of our vehicle at exactly the same time.

I followed as
Beadsworth
raced along the side of the building and toward a door.
  
With all his might he kicked the door.
 
I was amazed at how much strength those legs of his
had
.
 
Maybe the door was in bad shape with the hinges wearing out.
  
In any case, the door went down.

Beadsworth
moved in.

We were inside a small area no bigger than two elevator shafts.
 
On my left were empty pizza boxes.
 
It smelled of onions and anchovies.

We were faced with another door.
 
Like a fly,
Beadsworth
attached himself to the right side wall, his gun tightly gripped to his chest.
  
I wanted to do the same, but the pizza boxes got in my way.

Beadsworth
motioned his head toward the door.

I gestured.
 
What?

He moved his leg and motioned again.

I was to kick the door down.

I shook my head and touched my upper lip.
 
I was not in good shape.

He nodded, abruptly turned, and with one kick knocked the door down.
 

Kicking down doors was not my thing.
 
I could manage breaking windows with baseball bats, if the windows were thin and I was guaranteed no flying glass would hit me.

We heard voices echo from inside.

Police.

Get down.

Stop.

Don’t move.

We entered the warehouse, the fluorescent lights high above us.
  
The place felt cold.

We were confronted with large baffles that ran along one side, with occasional openings that resembled doors.

A man peeked out from one of the openings.