With that, Amanda led her brood down the rest of the stairs. Karl Burdett stepped in front of her.
“I had nothing to do with this, Karl,” Amanda said before he could get a word out. She threw a thumb over her shoulder. “That’s Dennis Levy. He’s a reporter for World News. He called the press without my knowledge.”
Burdett was furious but he knew he couldn’t arrest Charlie without looking bad. Amanda started walking, and Burdett hurried to stay by her side.
“Your client dodged a bullet today, Jaffe. You’d better not try anything like this again.”
“I’m as upset as you are, Karl.”
Amanda pushed through the shouting reporters, who obviously had not taken seriously her statement about not answering questions. Several of them followed her into the terminal. Amanda spotted Kate waiting at the front door. As soon as the investigator saw her boss, she left the terminal and started the car that she’d parked in front.
“I’ll see you at the bail hearing, tomorrow,” Amanda told Burdett as she left the terminal. “Thanks again for not arresting Marsh.”
Amanda held the rear door of Kate’s car open for Charlie and Dennis, then jumped in the front passenger seat. The reporters were still shouting questions when they drove away. As soon as she was out of camera range, Amanda leaned back against the headrest and exhaled.
CHAPTER 30
Gary Hass sat on a metal folding chair and looked out the window of the abandoned loft at the Space Needle as he waited for Ivan Mikhailov to revive. It was a beautiful summer night, and the illuminated Seattle landmark stood out against the starry sky, but Gary was not thinking about the beauty of the moment. He was daydreaming about the carnage that would result if the Space Needle were toppled by a set of carefully placed explosives.
The Russian drug dealer groaned. Gary sighed, displeased that his reverie had been interrupted. Mikhailov was naked and secured to an uncomfortable wooden chair by duct tape in such a way that all of the places where Gary might wish to inflict pain were exposed. Gary waited patiently as Mikhailov became conscious and slowly figured out his predicament.
“Good evening,” Gary said. “How are you feeling?”
Mikhailov stared stupidly for a moment before his features hardened into an icy stare.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked in a voice that would have turned Gary’s blood cold if their positions had been reversed but which he found merely amusing considering that the Russian was naked and helpless.
“You’re Bob Smith of Omaha, Nebraska, aren’t you?”
Mikhailov gaped at Gary. Then he shouted, “No, you idiot. I am Ivan Mikhailov and you will set me free immediately or I will have you cut into pieces and fed to my dogs.”
“Oh, shit,” Gary said. “I’m sorry, sir. I thought you were Bob Smith of Omaha. Man, did I fuck up.”
“Yes, you did, but you can save yourself by setting me loose at once,” Mikhailov said imperiously.
Gary grinned. “Actually, Ivan, I’m just playing with you. I knew who you were when I killed your men and Tasered you in the parking garage. You’re Ivan the Terrible, the violent drug dealer who’s been poaching on Julio Dominguez’s territory and beating up his dealers. Do I have that right?”
“You won’t think you’re so funny when I skin you alive.”
“Will that be before or after you feed me to your dogs?”
The Russian began struggling against his bonds. Gary watched for a moment before walking over to his captive and slapping him across the face several times. The slaps only stung Mikhailov but they were humiliating, and the ease with which the strikes were delivered emphasized his helplessness.
“Stop that, Ivan. It’s unbecoming. Besides, you can’t pay attention to what I have to say if you’re twitching and jumping up and down.”
“Do you want money?”
“Well, duh, who doesn’t? But if you’re thinking ransom or a bribe, that’s not on my mind. Julio already paid me.”
“I’ll double what he gave you.”
“I’m sure you would, but I wouldn’t be able to torture you if I took your bribe, and I’m in this as much for the fun as for the money. I mean, if you don’t enjoy your work you should find some other type of employment, right?”
Gary watched the Russian’s face. The sweat that suddenly dampened his captive’s brow and the way his pupils were snapping back and forth, as if searching for a way out, let Gary know that Mikhailov finally got it.
“See, Ivan, you’re affecting Julio’s profits and we can’t have that. Before you appeared on the scene, Julio had a nice thing going. He’s got a supplier in Colombia who’s happy with him, a snazzy house, and plenty of pussy, not to mention the biggest television set I’ve ever seen. If you still had eyes when I finished with you I’d take you over to watch a game. Anyway, Julio wants me to make sure he doesn’t have to cancel HBO because your shenanigans are eating into his bottom line.”
Gary walked behind Mikhailov and wrapped tape around his mouth. That was when the Russian started to scream, but the muffled cries were barely audible.
“That’s why I gagged you, Ivan,” Gary said. “I knew you’d wake the neighbors, and unlike you, I am very considerate of other people.”
GARY GREW TIRED of playing with the Russian after a few hours. The so-called tough guy hadn’t been so tough after all and had ceased to be a challenge during the preliminaries. Gary would have killed him to stop his whimpering but Julio wanted his rival to suffer, so he’d plugged away, not really enjoying himself but earning his pay.
After tidying up, Gary made an anonymous 911 call to the police. Julio wanted the murder publicized so no one else would try to move into his territory, and he couldn’t scare anyone if no one knew what happened to Ivan.
Gary was tired and not particularly satisfied with the evening when he locked the door of his seedy hotel room. The paint was peeling, the mattress sagged, the only window looked out on an air shaft, and the porcelain on the sink was chipped. The room was depressing but it was in a hotel where no one noticed anything, and he would be gone by morning.
After showering in the narrow bathroom, he turned on the television to see if the media knew about his handiwork yet. Gary was fully awake within seconds of seeing the lead story on the late news. Charlie Marsh was back in the US of A only a few hours from Seattle down the I-5. The same Charlie Marsh who had skipped out without paying Gary for the use of his life and who’d been sunbathing on some African beach, sipping piña coladas, while Gary was compelled to scratch out a living getting rid of other people’s problems.
Gary walked over to the window and stared down the shaft at the years of accumulated trash. He had no trouble imagining Charlie’s broken body rotting down there.
CHAPTER 31
Kate drove Dennis Levy to the bail hearing so Amanda could discuss the case with Charlie, but Charlie didn’t feel like talking during the ride to the Washington County courthouse. He spent most of the time staring at the scenery with the window rolled down, even though Amanda’s car had air-conditioning. The wind on his face and the smell of fresh air were physical manifestations of the freedom that could be snatched from him later that morning if Amanda couldn’t convince the judge to grant him bail. Between his prison stretch and the psychological prison he’d inhabited in Africa, Charlie realized that he’d enjoyed very little real freedom in the past fifteen years. It made him wonder about the life he’d led.
Amanda worried about fighting her way through the crowd of reporters at the courthouse, but Karl Burdett unintentionally created a diversion by pontificating to the press at the front entrance. That made it easy for Amanda to smuggle Charlie through a little-used side entrance. She could have been angry at the DA for using the media to bias the jury pool, but she couldn’t feel too self-righteous after yesterday’s fiasco at the airport.