‘ Mrs Rosza,’ Begin said with a nod. ‘How do you do? My name is-’
‘ I know exactly who you are.’
Begin gave a supercilious smirk. ‘In that case there is no need for introductions.’
‘ What do you want?’
‘ I’d like to talk to you about a mutual acquaintance of ours.’
‘ I don’t think we have one.’ Myrna’s mind raced frantically; panic crept through her being. How the hell did he get to know where I am? she demanded of herself. Myrna started to close the door.
Like a bad door-to-door salesman, Begin jammed his foot behind the threshold, preventing closure. ‘Oh yes we do,’ he said. He reminded Myrna of a slimy reptile. ‘And I suggest you spare some time now to discuss the matter with me.’
They eyed each other, cat and mouse.
‘ Okay,’ Myrna relented, ‘but first let me close the door and come back to you in a couple of minutes.’
‘ Is that a promise?’
‘ It is.’
‘ In that case…’ Begin lifted his foot out of the door.
Myrna closed it, whirled round and ran out to the pool.
‘ What is it?’ Danny asked, seeing Myrna’s worried expression.
‘ Er, nothing to worry about, I hope, but we need to talk. Tracey, will you give us a few minutes? Go upstairs to the bedroom you’ve been using? Danny and I need to discuss something.’
‘ Yeah, sure, whatever.’ She failed to pick up any of Myrna’s tension. She was thinking about her next fix and where it was coming from. She calmly trundled inside the house.
Danny, however, could feel and almost see Myrna’s agitation. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
‘ Look, I don’t know — but Mario Bussola’s right-hand man is on the doorstep. I smell big trouble here. Danny, will you just hang back out of sight? It might be better if he doesn’t know you’re here — unless he knows already, of course.’
The doorbell chimed again.
‘ Time’s up,’ Begin said when Myrna opened the door.
Mark Tapperman was at the scene of a murder. One of a series of drive-by shootings which had sprung up from an inter-gang dispute in downtown Miami. Two gang members had been splattered whilst sitting on the sidewalk terrace of a coffee shop. Problem was, two civilians had also been struck and one had died. Three bodies, blood, guts, overturned tables, chairs, shattered glass and lots of cops.
Tapperman surveyed the carnage. If only the civvy hadn’t bought it, he was thinking. Two gang members gunned down was easy to deal with. They deserved what they got for living like they did. But a civilian down put another angle on it.
Now the cops had to go all out to solve it, otherwise there would be a major outcry.
As if he didn’t have enough on his plate, not least of which was the small matter of hunting down Patrick Orlove, the man responsible for blowing Steve Kruger’s brains out. That was a trail that had gone ice-cold very quickly. Tapperman suspected Orlove had been whisked out of state, possibly out of the country. He despaired of ever laying his hands on the bastard.
Tapperman shook his head, refocused on the three dead bodies and lots of blood.
His mobile chirped.
‘ Is that Lieutenant Tapperman?’ the worried female voice enquired.
‘ Yup.’
‘ I’m Erica from Kruger Investigations. I’m really sorry to bother you, but I thought you might be able to help me.’
‘ I’ll try.’ Tapperman eased a toecap under the shoulder of one of the dead gang members and lifted him slightly to get a look at what remained of the face.
‘ We’ve been trying to get hold of Myrna Rosza for some time, but no one here knows where she is. There’s no reply on her home number, or cell-tel. She hasn’t told us where she can be reached and we need to pass an urgent message to her. I know it’s a long shot, but-’
Tapperman pulled his toe away. ‘I know where she is — at Steve Kruger’s house. But you won’t be able to call there because his phone has been disconnected since he died. If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the message?’
Erica relayed the message she had taken earlier from Felicity Bussola.
‘ Jesus Christ!’ Tapperman gasped. ‘Leave it with me… Harry!’ He called over to another detective. ‘Take over, I gotta go!’
‘ I’ll come straight to the point,’ Ira Begin said. He and Myrna were in the dining room, sat at the table opposite each other. He lifted his briefcase onto the table and took out a plastic wallet. ‘You are presently protecting a witness by the name of Tracey Greenwood?’ It was a statement and question combined. He raised his eyebrows to invite a reply. None came.
Begin shrugged amicably. ‘I know she is here, whether or not you wish to admit it.’
How, you bastard? Myrna’s mind screeched. Who could have told you she was here?
‘ Now you know as well as I do that I could simply walk in here with a show of force and take her away, probably hurting people like yourself in the process. I don’t wish to do that because I like win-win situations, where everybody comes out with some profit. The lawyer in me likes to negotiate, so I have a proposition for you.’
‘ I can’t wait.’
‘ In this wallet I have copies of certain documents that, if they were made public and sent to the right people — the IRS, the FBI, CIA, your customers, even… would destroy Kruger Investigations.’ Begin opened the wallet and shook out a sheaf of papers. He placed them on the table and fanned them out. ‘They relate to a very illegal business transaction in which Kruger Investigations acted as agents to supply certain goods to enemies of the USA.’
‘ Cut to the chase.’
‘ Hand the girl over and I will ensure you receive the originals of these documents within the hour. Then we shall both be happy. You won’t have this hanging over your head like the Sword of Damocles and the girl will not be a thorn in our side.’
‘ And what about her? Where does she stand in this win-win situation?’
‘ She loses.’
‘ And if I don’t agree?’
‘ I’ll take her by force, kill you if necessary, but if I don’t kill you, I’ll ruin Kruger Investigations just for fun.’
‘ Shit, Myrna, answer the godamned phone!’ Tapperman was driving maniacally, steering with one hand, mobile crushed to his ear by his free hand. He swerved dangerously, in and out of traffic, accelerating and braking madly, yelling obscenities at all other road-users.
‘ How much time do I have to think?’
Ira Begin made a show of checking his watch. ‘Not long.’
Myrna stood up. ‘Let me have a few minutes. I need to go over this in my head.’
‘ Sure, fine, Mrs Rosza, but don’t do anything rash like call the cops.’
‘ As if.’
She left the room and walked quickly into the kitchen where Danny waited apprehensively.
‘ Where the hell’s my phone?’ Myrna demanded.
‘ Out by the pool, I think.’
She ran out and picked it up off the coffee table and started to dial. Danny was behind her. ‘What’s going on, Myrna?’
‘ Why the hell is this thing not working?’ Myrna looked at the machine and realised the battery was dead. She did a quick exchange for one in her purse. Immediately, she thumbed the power button, the phone rang.
‘ Yes?’ she answered cautiously.
It was Mark Tapperman. Myrna listened as he shouted to her to get the hell out of the house.
‘ It’s too late, Mark. Begin’s already here and by assumption he’s probably got back-up stashed away nearby.’
‘ I’ll try and get a team there myself,’ Tapperman yelled, then, ‘Oh shit!’
There was a loud crash and Myrna held the phone away from her ear. ‘Mark, you okay?’
‘ Yeah, yeah, f’Christ’s sake. I’ve just hit a parked car. You try and get outta there, Myrna. I’ll do my best to get a SWAT team to you, or something.’ He ended the call.
Myrna eyed Danny. ‘Bussola wants Tracey, the easy way or the hard way. I can’t give her to him, Danny. I don’t know what the hell to do.’
‘ You go back and keep Begin talking,’ Danny said, getting her brain into gear. ‘I’ll nip upstairs and get Tracey. Have you got the keys for that car on the drive?’