Jo-el

Chapter 46 SEAN

Sally ignored Maggie, her expression deepened.

“Joel, problem.”

“What?”

“Two guys just chopped off the left hand of both Cathy Vogel and Stewart Nolan.”

“Jesus Christ! Show me what’s happening.”

A live video of the scene at the CNN studio in New York came on the disc-monitor. Cathy Vogel was in Nolan’s office, slumped in a chair, grabbing at her severed wrist, blood spurted from the wound, she was screaming. Nolan was behind his desk sitting on the floor, screaming as he stared helplessly at the stump that moments ago was attached to his left hand. Blood poured down his arm. A man ran into the office and screamed.

“Where’s the perps?” my voice was raised. The scene jumped to two guys leaping two steps at a time down a grey stairwell. “Knock them out, Sally, but don’t kill them.” Seconds later both men collapsed as if they’d fainted. “Who are they?”

“I assume you meant who sent them? Probably Verminov, they’ve done work for him before. They had passes to enter the studio, but the passes were fake. But whoever gave the initial instructions didn’t do it verbally or by text or email that I can find. Which means they must have been outside the network, probably underground.”

“Are they carrying?”

“No, or I might have seen them.”

“Verminov is sending a message.” I said.

“Probably because of those ten guys you terminated.”

“That was bloody quick.”

“Who knows what I did to Espinosa and Yerchenkov?

“Anybody with a Twitter account.”

“What about the ten guys?”

“That hit the airways fifteen minutes ago, but was probably all around the underworld within minutes. Those men died almost half an hour ago.”

“Still that is damn quick, thirty minutes to initiate retaliation.”

“I’m reviewing the two guy’s movements. They live near 120^th street. Ah! One of them said to the other on the subway, ‘fifty k for a hand job, easiest money I’ve ever made’. I’ve got the phone call, twenty-two minutes ago, from a guy called Manning, he’s in New York. He told them they get fifty thousand dollars each if they chop off the left hands of Vogel and Nolan in the next thirty minutes. He told them where they were and said a guy would meet them with security passes at the entrance. They took the subway.”

“Unbelievable. Who else is at risk, Sally?”

“My guess is anybody you’ve had contact with that is open knowledge.”

“Adrianna?”

“She’s asleep, early hours tomorrow there.”

“No one gets close to her, Sally, okay?”

Maggie had watched the video and listened to us talking, there was a look of astonishment written firmly in her eyes. “What the hell is going on, Dad? What did you do?” I explained about the ten crime bosses and the ones that were out of reach. I told her about severing the hands of Espinosa and Yerchenkov. “You did what?” she said.

“It’s war Maggie, and I’m playing their game, I just didn’t realize how deep their reach can be. I have to be more careful.”

“People are dying. Innocent people are being mutilated.”

“Maggie, I can’t argue with you now, I need to go see someone.” I turned to Sally, “what’s Pippa up to? I need to talk to her.”

“She’s at home, there’s a swat team stationed near her apartment, she’s safe.”

“I need to find out who else knows my real identity, she has to tell me. Is she in her apartment alone?”

“Yes, just Billy.”

“Where are you going?” Maggie asked.

“I have to see this CIA lady, you can stay here or leave, you’ll only be at risk if Verminov and his friends find out my real identity. I’m seeing Sean for lunch if you want to come with me, in about an hour.”

“Maybe,” she said.

Women. I changed into Jo-el.

“Sally bounce me into Pippa’s apartment.”

Pippa was in her small family-room reading while Billy played with an ipad on the sofa. She was startled but not surprised.

“I thought I’d see you today,” she said, when her breath allowed.

I smiled and put my hands in the air indicating surrender. “I need your help, Pippa.”

“Wow! I thought you Superhero’s were pretty self-sufficient.”

“You know what happened here last night?”

“You killed those three guys who were planning to either kill me or kidnap me, right?”

“Did you see what happened at CNN this morning?” Pippa shook her head. I recounted the events, she turned white. “I need the names of all the people who know my identity. It’s the only way I can protect them.”

“Or, you could give yourself up to those bastards,” she said.

“Is that what you want, Pippa?”

“I’ve got protection for now, we all do. You’ve caused a nightmare for anyone who’s met you. My guess is that if you were to die there’d be a collective sigh of relief.”

I was bewildered, I turned away from her to think. As soon as I’ve spoken with the President, then I can announce the real reason I was here. That should change her perspective.

“You’ll change your view, soon Pippa, trust me. But first I need the names.”

“After what’s happened do you think any of them will admit to having anything to do with you?”

“It doesn’t matter, does it? If Verminov finds out who knows my identity, they’re dead. He’ll extract the information and it won’t be pleasant, then they’re useless to him and he’ll get rid of them.”

“Who’s Verminov?”

“He a billionaire Russian, drug lord. He seems to be leading the search to find me. There’s a guy called Jerry Spiel who has a mole in the CIA. It’s just a matter of time.”

Pippa hesitated, then said she’d speak with someone. “Come and see me in an hour.”

Maggie was still in the suite when I returned, she had CNN on the TV. They were interviewing various colleagues of Vogel and Nolan. Along the bottom of the screen was a breaking news message noting the deaths of various prominent business men from America to Europe. I was being linked to the deaths. I watched with her for a while. After a few minutes the lead story moved to the deaths of the businessmen. No comments had yet been forthcoming from any part of government.

“You’re going to have to talk to the FBI, Dad. They know it was you.” She looked over her shoulder at me, fear very apparent across her face. “I’m not sure you’re winning the media war.”

“It’s early days, Maggie. As soon as I’ve told the President everything, I’m sure he’ll make a statement and things will change.”

“I hope so,” she muttered.

“Has there been anything about the number of rape cases?”

“Nothing while I’ve been watching.”

“Sally,” I called out. Sally appeared by the window, away from where Maggie was seated. “What’s being reported about the incidence of rape?”

“Not much, it’s too soon for the police to assemble the data. There was something saying certain police forces had received videos and they were following up with enquiries. There’s numerous rape web sites praising your warning.”

“Have they actually arrested anyone?”

“Twelve guys interviewed by the police have admitted having sex with women, all of them said it was consensual. Nine of the women raped agreed it was consensual.”

“Dad, most women don’t want the stigma of being a rape victim, you know that.”

“Jeez! I should have started with murder. Let’s do that Sally, can you get a note to Leland Price?”

“Sure.”

“Tell him to announce on the air that I’m sending videos of all murders to the relevant authorities starting today.”

“You’re keeping me busy, Jo-el,” replied Sally.

“Are you saying you can’t cope?”

“No, I think I can do it, but I’m nestling up to edge of my capacity, eventually something has to give.”

“Okay, I hear you.”

Five minutes later a breaking news item appeared on CNN about the murder videos.

“The police are going to be stretched to the limit, Dad.”

“Yea, well, tough.”

“I have to go back in tomorrow,” Maggie added. “Looks like you’ll be keeping me busy, too.”

“Sally, did Espinosa start closing his business?”

Sally grinned, “not only has he issued orders to shut everything down, you got a wire this morning confirming receipt of a hundred and sixty million into the bank I set up.”

“That should keep us in champagne for a while.”

“Dad, you can’t keep it?” Maggie looked astounded.

“No sweetie, I know, just a little joke.”

“What about Yerchenkov?”

“He went with Verminov to Israel,” answered Sally.

“I guess he’ll have to live like a mole if he wants to be able to wipe his own ass for the rest of his life. Let me know if he pokes his head above ground.”

“Problem, Jo-el. Sean messaged a friend on Facebook about fifteen minutes ago that he went to Washington DC for a day on Sunday. Nothing else. But I’m seeing texts asking a Samuel Sands to check out Sean. Sands is a gun-for-hire in LA.”

“Who’s asking?”

“A billionaire drug dealer called Mickey Gregorino, also in LA.”

“Is he working with Verminov?” I asked Sally, I was biting a nail.

“I don’t know for sure, I can’t find him, but he has a basement shelter in his house in West Hollywood. So, I wouldn’t bet against it.”

“Where’s Sands now?”

“He’s just leaving his apartment in Culver City, he’s about thirty minutes from Costa Mesa.”

“They must be chasing people all over the country! What do they do to ‘check people out’” I made quote marks in the air.

“Hang on, let me see,” said Sally.

“Dad, you need to warn Sean.” Maggie’s voice was raised.

“I know that, Maggie, but if I can get Sean to convince this Sands guy that he has nothing to do with me that would be good, right? They’d cross the name Murphy off the list.”

Maggie scratched her head. “But, you’ll have to explain all that to Sean in the next thirty minutes.”

“Way ahead of you, sweetie.”

Sally butted in. “It seems they are told to ask five questions. Why did you go to DC? Have you ever spoken to the CIA or FBI? Where does your father live? When did you last see your father? And, do you have any brothers of sisters?”

“Seems like the first question is the key. Find me a funeral in DC yesterday.”

“Sure.”

“What are you going to do, Dad?”

I smiled at Maggie, “I can’t stop these people trying to find me, Maggie, but I’m going to do my level best to make it as difficult as possible.”

“So, how?”

“I’m going to see Sean in about ten minutes, are you coming?”

Maggie switched off the TV and said, “Why not, I hear the weather down there is lovely this time of year,” but she looked scared.

“Sally, how much longer till Sands gets there?”

“Maybe eight minutes.”

“Show me the guy on my heads-up.”

Maggie was watching me cautiously, while checking her phone to see the time.

“What are you doing, Dad?”

“You’ll see, okay, let’s go.”

Sean was twenty-eight years old and working at an escrow company in Newport Beach. He lived in the lower rent district of Costa Mesa, sharing with another guy who was always travelling, so most of time Sean was alone. He had a girlfriend he’d found online but it wasn’t serious. He’d only known her for two months. He’d told me many times that the escrow business was not where he wanted to spend his life but he didn’t seem to be doing much about it.

Maggie and I bounced to a parking lot at the back of the office building where Sean worked. I took her hands in mine and explained what I had in mind. She nodded then left me in the parking lot to find Sean.

A few minutes later I saw them leave the building. Sean looked alarmed, Maggie’s hand was pulling at his arm. On my heads-up I saw Sands drive into the parking lot. I changed my look to completely resemble Sean then walked into the building finding Sean’s office with Sally’s help. No one said a word. I took Sean’s seat and waited for Sands. There was a picture of a pretty girl on Sean’s desk, the new girlfriend I presumed, but none of me. What did I expect?

The phone on Sean’s desk rang and the receptionist said that a Samuel Sands was here to see me. I went to the front desk, then led him to the conference room. Just another client.

“How can I help you, Mr. Sand?” I was polite.

Sands was nervous, out of place in this environment, he fidgeted with something in his pocket and kept glancing at the door. The conference room had no windows to the inner office only to the outside.

“Did you go to Washington DC, recently?” he asked.

I allowed my mouth to gape open a little and paused before answering. “I’m sorry, are you here to open an escrow?” I threw him a ‘very surprised’ look.

“No, Mr. Murphy, I’m here to ask some questions?”

“I don’t understand.” I said, innocently.

“Just answer my questions and I’ll be out of your hair. Did you go to Washington, DC?”

Again I paused, then answered, “yes, I did, why?”

“Why did you go there?” he said, still nervous.

“Are you the police?”

“No, private detective.”

“Oh, okay, why are you talking to me?”

“I can’t tell you that,” he said and I sensed the unease he was feeling.

I smiled, calm the dipshit down, “actually I did go to DC, my aunt Sarah died, I went to the funeral yesterday.”

“What was her full name, please?” He pulled out a small notebook and pen.

“Sarah Robinson.”

He then asked about the FBI and CIA. My face kept with the ‘haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about’ vibe. We went through the other questions, I kept the answers simply, he asked where my father lived. I gave my address as simply San Francisco and I said I had a sister. Eventually I objected and refused to answer his last question about when I’d last seen my father. Sally had told me he had a gun in his inside pocket I could see him considering bringing it out. He would not have liked the result. Then suddenly he stood up, thanked me for my time and left. I think it worked.

I met Maggie and Sean at the Mexican restaurant across the street. Maggie had ordered a Margarita; Sean was drinking iced-tea. Maggie winked at me with her left eye and I did the same back. We chatted about the horror of the trip to the CIA headquarters but Sean didn’t have any idea of the real truth. For the time being that was just fine.