The Bricklayer (23 page)

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Authors: Noah Boyd

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T
HIS LOOKS NICE,” VAIL SAID.

“I hope you like Chinese.”

The restaurant was large and busy. The waiters spoke a minimum of English and the busboys none. The noise level was considerably higher than Sargasso’s. He wondered if Kate had reconsidered her offer and was sending him a message. She ordered a diet soft drink, apparently not wanting to test her resistance to both Vail and alcohol again. It was probably for the best anyway. If he should have the opportunity to take his shirt off later and she saw the bandage on his shoulder, a new round of trust disputes would be sparked.

“You’ve seen me eat. Do you think there’s anything I don’t like?”

“Somebody in the office suggested it,” Kate said. “So there really wasn’t anything out at that ranch? Maybe the garlic clue was supposed to take you in a different direction.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. It was left for a reason. If there was no trap at the ranch, then I don’t know.”

“Another one of life’s unsolved mysteries. How are the paper wars going at the office?”

“Mind-numbing. You owe us a few reports, you know.”

“302s are for court testimony. The last I knew dead men aren’t usually prosecuted. Or is the United States attorney’s office low on stats?” he asked.

“I don’t know about conviction rates, but they’re soon to be short one assistant USA.”

“Tye?”

“They’ve suspended her until the case can be reviewed. It isn’t looking good.”

“Aren’t they the courageous bunch. She was leaving anyhow. That was the reason for the article.”

“You like her, don’t you?” Vail shot her a look. “No, I mean as a person.”

“I didn’t hear anybody complaining when we needed a friendly legal face.”

The waiter came and they both ordered.

Kate said, “Have you thought any more about the director’s offer?”

“Yes, but I don’t know how seriously. I need to go back to Chicago and work for a while and see how everything feels. I’m not sure making a decision right now would be in anyone’s best interest.”

“When are you going back?”

Vail thought about being shot at. He wasn’t going to let that go. And he wasn’t going to tell Kate. “I’ll stick around
for a couple of days. Make sure I didn’t leave any loose ends hanging. Mostly I’m doing it so I can ignore your orders that I do paperwork.”

 

THE EVENING ENDED
matter-of-factly with Kate and Vail saying good night to each other as he got off the elevator one floor below hers. He guessed there would be no third attempt to roll that rock up the hill. He lay in bed trying to read. The night before had been perfect until Tye called. Tonight couldn’t have been any more ordinary. Last night they had tried to be two relatively normal people, looking for physical companionship. Tonight the real Kate and Steve showed up and proved they were who they were. And that last night’s little drama-comedy was a one-night-only engagement.

He tried reading the same paragraph again but became distracted by the image of her laughing over the white linen tablecloth at Sargasso’s, her hand absentmindedly caressing the wineglass, her skin flawless in the candlelight. He set the book down and turned off the light. He suspected it was going to be a night without much sleep.

After a few minutes of staring into the darkness, the phone rang. “Hello,” he answered quickly.

“Vail…” It was a male voice that he couldn’t quite identify.

“Yes.”

There was an unnatural laugh. “Sorry I missed you at the ranch today.”

Vail was speechless. It was the voice he had heard the day
he killed Lee Salton—Victor Radek’s. “Apparently we’re both hard to kill.”

“We’ll see.” The voice now became amused. “Guess why I’m calling.”

“Well, there is a rumor going around that you’ve had a couple of financial setbacks. I could lend you a couple of bucks if you wanted to meet me.”

“You do get a quick read on people. I am calling about money, but I was thinking more like three million bucks.”

“I’ll have to go to an ATM, but okay. Where and when?”

“Actually I was thinking you could go to the FBI office and get it there.”

“The funny thing about that is the FBI actually thinks it’s theirs.”

“That’s why you’re going to have to steal it.”

“I hope you’ve got a plan B.”

“I’m sticking with plan A.” Vail then heard him say to someone in the room with him, “Say something.”

When there was no response, he heard a violent slap. Then, “Steve, I’m sorry.” It was Tye Delson.

Radek came back on the phone. “Do you still need a plan B?”

“No.”

“Good. Here’s the way it’s going to go. I’ll call you at midnight on your cell phone. Make sure you have the money by then. If you don’t…well, you know the rest of it. I’m going to put you over a few hurdles to make sure you’re following all the rules.”

“And those are?” Vail asked.

“No one knows about this. If you try to backdoor me, I’ll know. Ask yourself how I know what hotel you’re in, or that the money is still in L.A., or how I knew to grab your girlfriend here at her apartment. Also, I’ve set a number of obstacles along the course you’ll have to follow, so if anybody else from the FBI is involved…well, you know those clowns, they’ll stumble over them and cost the princess here her life. Then we’ll both have to start looking for a plan B, which for someone with my limited imagination starts with more bodies. Funny thing is I was going to be satisfied with just killing you this morning, and then I saw the article about the prosecutor.”

Vail suspected Radek was trying a little too hard to prove he had someone on the inside. He could have found out about Vail’s hotel from Tye or her cell phone. It had been only a couple of days since the recovery of the three million dollars, and with all that had been going on, it was a pretty safe bet the money would not have been taken back to Washington yet. As far as getting Tye’s home address, someone as streetwise as Radek would have no trouble conning a clerk or secretary from the USA’s office into giving it up, especially after her embarrassing article in the newspaper. Or he could actually have someone in the FBI feeding him information. Vail decided he couldn’t take the chance. Especially since Radek was right about the others stumbling through the exchange. The tunnel had proven that.

“I’ll be alone.”

“I know you will. You’re a loner. You could have called for help when we were following you that day, but you took Sal
ton on by yourself. Same thing at the ranch this morning. If nobody else is around, you might get a chance to kill me, is that it?”

“You’ll have to admit, you do need killing.”

Radek brayed a cold, angry laugh. “I could make the same argument. You’ve been ruining the beauty of this operation since the tunnel. I should have killed you then, but now all I want is my money so I can get out of this stinking country.”

“It might be worth three million to get rid of you, but one question, the guy in the elevator.”

“Benny? He was one of my dummies from prison. We were all in his apartment when I sent the three of them to that building to kill you. After they left I took his toothbrush and put it in my apartment where you’d find it.”

“You have them take all the chances, and then you send them out to die. I can see why you don’t want anyone to know you’re still alive—they might somehow get the idea that you’re a coward.”

“Run your mouth one more time, Vail, and me and the princess here are going to start getting more friendly. I like them with a little more meat, but as a special consideration for everything you’ve cost me…”

“Okay, okay, I’ll get the money.”

“Midnight, hero. And no guns. Just your cell phone and a flashlight. And don’t waste your time trying to trace this phone.” Vail heard something heavy smash the phone just as the line went dead.

 

VAIL WALKED
into Kate’s office carrying his suitcases, both empty. He tried the handle on the safe drawer. It was locked, which meant the money was still in there. She had said something about the accountants working a special and not being able to get to it for a few days. He dialed the combination and it opened. Two of the drawers were brimming with packs of hundred-dollar bills just the way he had stacked them. Quickly, he filled the suitcases.

 

VICTOR RADEK
kneeled over a large sheet of steel plate. He had a welding mask on and was attaching the last of four metal rings to it. When he was finished, he turned off the hissing torch and heard the muffled complaints of a woman. They were coming from the baby monitor next to him. The transmitter unit was inside the sealed wooden box a few feet away. It was roughly the size of a small coffin. He got up and went over to the box, kicking it viciously. “This is the last time I’m going to tell you to shut up, and then I’m going to take a cutting torch to the box.” The monitor fell silent.

“I’ll tell you when to start moaning for help.”

He went over to the wall and pushed a button, which activated a crane that lifted the steel plate into the air. He nodded with satisfaction at the way the huge plane of metal was balanced.

V
AIL SAT IN HIS CAR OUTSIDE HIS HOTEL, WAITING FOR RADEK’S
call. He checked his watch again; it was after 2 a.m. The suitcases were secured in the trunk. He couldn’t believe he was delivering three million dollars to a murderer for the second time.

The phone rang. “Vail,” he answered.

“Do you have the money?”

“Yes.”

“There’s a boarded-up factory on Keller Street where it dead-ends at the river. Around back you’ll find a black trash bag next to the fence. Be careful with it, there’s a laptop inside. It’s already on, so just open it and wait for my instructions.”

It took Vail less than twenty minutes to find the factory. He turned off his lights and listened, but the only thing he could hear was the occasional rush of distant traffic. As
instructed, he had left his handgun in his room. He got out and went to the trunk, taking out the suitcases. Around the back of the building he found the plastic bag where Radek had said it would be. Inside was the laptop, a couple of small green lights indicating it was running. A wireless Internet card protruded from the left side. He opened the lid and immediately heard Radek’s voice.

Vail then noticed the webcam at the top of the computer. Radek was now able to watch him, but the screen was black which meant Radek was keeping his camera blocked so Vail couldn’t see him. Because of satellite technology, it was impossible to tell where he was. “In the bag are a change of clothes. Set the computer on the ground and step back so I can see you completely. Then change clothes just in case there’s something hidden in yours that will track you.” Vail did as he was told, and when he was done, Radek said, “Over against the wall are two large duffel bags. Bring them back here, and then let me watch you transfer the money—slowly. And riffle through the stacks when I tell you to so I can be sure it’s all there.”

Vail complied with the instructions and when he was done closed and secured the bags with the clips at the end of the shoulder straps. “Okay, now where’s Tye?”

“Come on, Vail, would I have made it that easy?”

“The money is staying right here until I hear Tye’s voice.”

“How about a compromise.” Radek kicked the wooden box and then held the baby monitor up to the computer speaker.

Vail heard a woman’s voice heavily muted, seemingly pleading for help.

“Okay, where to?” Vail asked.

“Get your flashlight and cell phone.” Radek watched as Vail transferred the devices to the pants he had been given. “Okay, climb over the fence. At the bottom of the incline is a set of railroad tracks. Follow them north for about three-quarters of a mile until you find yourself on a small overpass bridge. Below will be another set of tracks. When you get to that point, turn on the flashlight and hold it up. Then turn in a full circle so I’ll know you’re there.”

Vail tossed the two bags ahead of him and climbed over the fence. The incline was steep but not long. He half slid, half walked down until he was at the tracks. They ran alongside the narrow Los Angeles River. With the track bound by a waist-high retaining barrier, there was no room on either side of the rails to walk, so he had to step from wooden tie to tie and watch each step as the thirty-plus pounds of cash in each hand made the balancing act that much more difficult.

When he reached the overpass, he was soaked with sweat. He set the bags down and looked around, trying to figure out if Radek was around or just running him through a gauntlet to break him down physically and mentally. There were a few dots of yellow light scattered in the distance, but no apparent hiding place in the vicinity from which Radek could be watching him. As instructed, Vail switched the flashlight on and held it up, slowly turning in a complete circle. Immediately his cell rang. Wherever Radek was, he could see Vail. “Yeah.”

“Get down to the rail line below and follow it to the right.” Vail looked down and it appeared to be about a
fifteen-foot difference in elevation. He released one of the bags over the side and then the other before letting himself drop to the track below. He picked up the bags and followed the track as instructed. It immediately crossed over the river and turned sharply south, back in the direction he had come from but on the opposite bank of the concrete-walled waterway.

This track seemed even narrower and he began to wonder if a train was scheduled, another obstacle that it would have been like Radek to throw in. Fifteen minutes later he found himself passing under the same road he had traveled beneath when he started out. He was back to where he had started but on the other side of the river, the shadow of the factory up on the rise.

His phone rang. “Yes.”

“Flashlight.”

This time Vail shined it only in the direction of the factory to see if that was where Radek was. “You’re in position now,” Radek said. “Get across the river and bring those bags to the roof of the factory.”

“And then what?”

“Meaning, where is your woman? All your questions will be answered when you get up there.”

“How do I get to the roof?”

“I wouldn’t use the front door.” Radek hung up.

Vail lowered himself from the track and walked down to the angled concrete bank of the river. It was about fifty yards wide at that point. The water appeared, by the debris in it, to be a couple of feet deep at the most. He slid down the embankment and half fell into the water. It was waist-deep
and its coolness felt good. The current was surprisingly strong, and as he walked, he held the bags above it. On the other side he waited for the water to drain from his clothes before climbing the equally steep embankment.

Tossing the bags over the fence that had been scaled a little over an hour before, he vaulted himself over. The laptop was gone but his clothes were still there. After changing, he wondered about Radek’s warning to not use the front door.

Above the entrance to the building was an engraved stone anchored into the brickwork above the door identifying it as the Y. P. Androyan and Sons Wire Works, established in 1913. It was a four-story brick structure whose footprint was triangular. One end of the building was not much wider than its double door, but the far end was close to a hundred feet wide. Probably the original piece of property had dictated the design of the building. Located less than a hundred yards from the Los Angeles River and with a rail line on either side, it looked like, at one time, the area had been a prime industrial location.

Between the second- and third-story windows was a faded blue and white sign that read “For Lease.” A heavy steel gate protected the front door, but it was ajar, like at the house on Spring Street. And Radek had warned him not to go in that way, probably more to protect the three million dollars than Vail. He decided to look for another way in.

Along the street side of the building was a fire escape, which ran from the second floor to the roof. Vail drove onto the sidewalk and parked directly underneath the steel lattice of ladders and landings. He got out and could see that if he
stood on the roof of his car, even with his best vertical leap, he would still be a foot or two short of the fire escape. He went to the trunk and took out the Halligan tool. After patting his pockets to make sure he had his flashlight and cell phone, he decided to take along the low-light monocle, since the building appeared to be completely dark inside.

He had figured out how to get himself onto the fire escape, but the two bags of money were going to be a problem. Remembering how Dan West had negotiated his way out of that naval prison cell, he took his knife and, pulling out each of the seat belts to its maximum length, cut them free. Knotting the ends as tightly as possible, he had a length of strapping almost twenty feet long. He threaded it through one bag’s handle and tied it to the other.

After climbing up on top of his car, he fed the pick end of the Halligan up through the fire escape’s grated floor and pulled himself up. Once he swung himself up onto the landing, he lifted the tool and money up after him.

As quietly as possible, he started making his way up to the roof. The windows he passed were a common factory type, the kind that after turning a handle inside the bottom of the frame rotated outward. On the third floor he noticed that the pane directly above one of them was broken. A few small pieces of broken glass were on the outside sill, indicating that it was not the result of kids throwing stones, but broken from the inside. A little too convenient. He regripped the pry bar and bags and headed up the final ladder.

Once he stepped onto the roof, the only thing visible was an eight-foot-high structure along the back edge that housed an access door for the building’s stairwell. He looked over
the side and let his eyes trace the railroad tracks he had walked. Radek must have watched him the entire time from there, making sure that no one else was anywhere near.

Sitting on the tarred surface next to the access structure, he could see something emitting a small green light. Halfway across the roof, Vail could hear a woman’s muffled voice coming from it. When Vail reached the source of the light and sound, he discovered it was a baby monitor. Because of the limited range of the device, it meant Tye had to be inside the building. Underneath it was a note, which simply stated, “Leave the bags here.”

He set down the bags and tried the doorknob. It was locked. He pushed the adze end of the Halligan between the door and the frame just above the lock. It sank in just far enough so he would be able to get some leverage on it. He took a half step back and pulled evenly on the tool’s shaft. The door shifted inside the frame but the pry bar started tearing through the edge of the wooden door. Vail pushed the tool’s head deeper into the widened gap. Again he pulled back, and this time the door sprung open with little sound.

He had no idea what lay ahead. Other than his knife, he had no weapon, so the Halligan would have to do. He started to take out the flashlight but then remembered the photocell trigger in the tunnel. Instead he closed the door behind him, which enclosed him in darkness. He stood perfectly still while his eyes adjusted. After a moment, he could see some light at the bottom of the stairs on the fourth floor, possibly coming through the windows from the streetlights.

The stairs were wooden and creaked with almost every step. He took his time, listening after each one, and at the
same time feeling ahead for any wires or rigged construction. It took twenty minutes to descend the three floors, and his legs were starting to feel the exhaustion of the last couple of hours.

At the bottom of the stairs was a door. It was locked. To his left was a hallway that skirted the outside of the first floor. The main part of the floor was most likely a factory workspace. Halfway down the corridor was another door. Vail tried it, but it was also locked. At the end, the corridor turned right toward the building’s main entrance. There was light from the street coming through the double door windows. To his right was a large open door that led to the floor’s workspace.

Then he noticed, sitting six feet from the entrance door, an object that was four feet tall and three feet wide. He stepped slowly toward it. It looked like an industrial-size cable spool for heavy-gauge wire. After another step, he could see that it was coiled with hundreds of feet of barbwire. It didn’t make any sense until he looked at the core. It was packed with something light in color. Thin electrical wires ran out of it toward the door. Carefully he stuck his finger into the center of the spool. The material had the consistency of C-4. He was afraid to move any closer, but instead took out the monocular and traced the wires visually. They ran to two electrical contacts, one on each of the front doors, like a burglar alarm. As soon as either door was opened, the electrical signal was interrupted and the blasting caps at the core of the spool would be detonated. Any person or persons entering through that door had no chance of survival.

Ever so slowly, he pulled the blasting caps out of the C-4.
Stepping around the spool, he laid them on the floor. Not wanting to get any closer to the doors, he took the sharp, claw end of the Halligan and drove it accurately into the wooden floor, severing both wires, one with each side of the claw. He picked up the caps and tossed them down the hallway as far as possible. Blasting caps were relatively inert. Even if they went off at that distance, they couldn’t detonate the stable C-4. Vail knew the bomb was not for him, but rather for any FBI cavalry should they somehow be tracking Vail’s movements. If there was an “obstacle” for him, it lay somewhere else.

He pulled the Halligan out of the floor and looked through the inner door into the workspace. The windows had been drywalled over. Only a thin slit of a window at the back end of the room allowed any light at all. Using the monocular, Vail could see a dozen or so dark shapes of uniform size placed irregularly along the floor. The pattern seemed to be random, but Vail could see that it was arranged so that eventually, in the dark, anyone walking through the room would bump into one of them, and possibly with the same consequences as entering through the front door. After memorizing their positions, he gripped the Halligan at its balance and stepped into the room.

Immediately he heard a woman’s desperate moans. She was somewhere inside the large room. Straining his eyes to confirm the location of the objects along the floor, he slid each foot forward, testing for trip wires while continuing to move toward the voice.

Halfway across the room, he stopped and took out the monocular. He could see the outline of a coffin-shaped box
along the far wall where the muffled syllables seemed to be coming from. This was where he was supposed to become emotional and charge toward it. He stopped, took a deep breath, and blocked out the muted pleas.

The objects placed between him and the box containing her turned out to be eighteen-inch-high wooden cubes. He could now see a small green dot of light up on the wall, and he suddenly became aware of an almost inaudible hum, an electrical hum. The transmitter for the baby monitor? He took one more step forward and felt the floor give way slightly, causing a distinct mechanical click underfoot.

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