Antenna Syndrome (32 page)

Jordan stared at the gruesome head tucked under my
arm. “What the hell is that?”

“Once upon a time it was a human head. Then
surgically reconstructed with insect parts – probably a praying
mantis – grown in a lab.”

He shook his head in dismay or disbelief. “Why?”

“That, sir, is a question only a mad scientist could
answer.”

We walked back down the mountain. On the way I told
Jordan everything that had happened since he’d left town for his
country retreat – Marielle’s “abduction” by her dubious friend
Crabner, Natalie’s hiring me to find her sister, Dr. Globik’s
clinic and his Russian mob connections, and the murder of LeVeen
for the GPS evidence of meetings between borough bureaucrats and
Russian mobsters.

He was both shocked and relieved to hear about
Marielle. He used his phone to immediately call Natalie. I went on
ahead, giving him privacy to talk to his daughters.

Back at the house, Jordan’s personal assistant
Samantha sat fully clothed on the front porch with Major and
Werewolf. Major was on the phone, telling the Newburgh airport
manager about the chopper’s accident. Werewolf lay on his side, a
makeshift bandage of paper towels taped to his ribs, as Samantha
stroked his head.

Jordan joined us a few minutes later.

Major examined my trophy, grimacing at the sight of
the extended mandibles protruding from its mouth slit. He clapped
me on the back. “Get it mounted and hang it in your office. That’ll
impress the clients.”

“This is just for the NYPD. Hopefully, their
forensics people will match these cutting mandibles with the slash
wounds that decapitated Boyle and Mundt, get me off the hook.” I
explained to Jordan what had happened in my office.

“I’ve got the Commissioner’s ear,” Jordan said.
“I’ll call him right now, make sure he’s aware of your situation.”
He took out his cell phone and entered the house.

“I checked out his Mercedes,” Major said, “just in
case Buzz messed with it while we were fighting off that hornet
swarm. No explosives or poisonous spiders, but I did find this.” He
showed me something the size of a match book.

“What’s that?”

“GPS transmitter. I guess that’s how Buzz found his
way here.”

I didn’t have to wonder how it got in Jordan’s
Mercedes. Jack would have had easy access.

The local police arrived. I gave them my statement,
ignoring the incredulous looks the senior officer gave me
throughout. I handed over Buzz’s head and they sealed it in a large
evidence bag. Jordan gave them directions to the cave, and I told
them where they’d find an arm, a leg and the rest of the body.

The ambulance arrived. One of the attendants
stitched my scalp and cleaned the cuts on my arms and shoulders.
The other dressed Werewolf’s more serious gash and gave him a shot
of antibiotics. Apparently neither of us would die from our wounds.

We celebrated with a bottle of wine over a lunch
prepared by Samantha. Afterwards we sat on the porch and smoked
some of Jordan’s Cuban cigars. The police returned from the
mountain, carrying a body bag with Buzz’s remains. With everything
now in hand, we were free to go. They’d ensure chain of custody
getting Buzz’s remains to the NYPD.

A local handyman showed up to assess the damage to
doors and windows. Jordan left the house keys with him. We all
piled into the Mercedes and headed out. I rode up front with
Jordan. Werewolf sprawled on the rear seat between Major and
Samantha.

Heading south on I-87, Jordan stopped for gas in
Kingston. I went inside to buy coffee for the two of us. Major and
Samantha had both dozed off. Major had been up all night with me
for the assault on the Avatar Clinic, and he was exhausted. I don’t
know what Samantha’s excuse was.

We resumed our drive to Long Island. Jordan had been
quiet so far, but I could tell he was chewing on something.
Finally, he let it out. “Why didn’t Jack tell me about Marielle’s
disappearance?”

“Aside from the fear of losing his job? He’s been
helping the Russians spy on you.”
Not to mention, molesting your
daughter.

“I can’t believe it. I treated him like a friend
more than an employee.”

“With friends like that…”

“Sonofabitch.”

He was silent for a long while after that, probably
thinking about his checkered past, especially regarding his
daughters. I didn’t bother him with any unwanted advice regarding
his personal life. I was just an exterminator, not a life
coach.

It wasn’t until we were on the Long Island
Expressway that he spoke again. “I’ve been a lousy father,” he
said. “Leaving Marielle to be raised by Vivien while I pursued my
personal ambitions... Neglecting to stay in touch with Natalie...
They’re both smart and talented young women, worthy of my love and
attention. But I allowed them to slip under the radar while I
focused all my attention on my career. What an asshole!”

“Take this as a wake-up call. It’s a good thing
Natalie turned up when she did. She and Marielle will bond all over
again. You have a chance now to embrace your daughters, reunite as
a family. I hate to be so mundane, but if you put your PR people on
this, they can spin it to your advantage in the eyes of
voters.”

He nodded, and I saw tears in his eyes before he
brushed them away. We left the highway and entered East Massapequa.
As we turned into the driveway, I saw the Tesla parked next to the
house, plugged into the charging outlet.

“Stop,” I barked at Jordan. “Jack’s here.”

He hit the brakes. “What? I thought you said he’d
left town.”

Major and Samantha awoke with a start. I explained
the situation and we worked out a game plan. Major and I got out
and went through the trees to the back of the house. We’d left our
shotguns in the trunk of the Mercedes but carried our pistols.

We crept along a hedge to the pool area and the
backyard patio door. We waited there until we heard the front
doorbell chime. Inside the house, two dogs started barking.

I counted to five. Plan was, Jordan would leash his
dogs as soon as he opened the front door, securing them to the
verandah railing.

I slipped through the hedge and opened the patio
door. Major was right behind me. We passed through the kitchen on
the balls of our feet, him taking the hallway, me cutting through
dining room and living room, both heading toward the foyer.

“Hey!” a woman’s voice shouted from the hallway.
“Stop or I’ll shoot.”

I pressed against the living room wall and peeked
into the foyer. Jordan stood just outside the front door, both dogs
leashed to the railing. In the driveway I saw Samantha still in the
Mercedes.

In the foyer, a platinum blonde stood with her back
to me. In her left hand she had a fistful of Vivien’s hair. In her
right was a pistol aimed down the hall. I recognized the hair and
the voice. Tatiana.

I came up behind her and chopped her hard at the
wrist. Her pistol flew from her hand and skidded down the hall.
Major picked it up, checked the safety and stuck it in his
belt.

Vivien skittered out of the foyer and into Jordan’s
arms. Tatiana was now down on her side, clutching her sprained
wrist and howling with pain. I crouched beside her and pressed my
pistol against her teeth to shut her up.

“Where’s Jack?”

“Upstairs,” she groaned.

Chapter 56

We left Jordan with Tatiana’s gun to watch over her.
Major and I went upstairs. We no sooner hit the second floor
landing when Jack fired several shots from within Jordan’s office.
He must have heard the ruckus below and readied himself for us. But
he was a lousy and reckless shot, and wasted half a dozen rounds
right off the bat.

I crouched just outside the doorway to Jordan’s
office. Major kneeled in the bathroom doorway across the landing,
both of us now with fields of fire that minimized the risk of
shooting each other.

“Jack,” I called out, “it’s Savage. Tatiana’s out of
play and three of us have guns. You’re not going anywhere, so put
down your weapon and end this now.”

“Let me go and I’ll make it worth your while.”

“You’ve got nothing to negotiate with. You’re a
rapist and a murderer and you’re going to prison.”

“I can’t go to prison. If I don’t deliver, they’ll
kill me.”

“Who?”

“The
bratva
. The Russian mob.”

“If you turn state’s evidence, maybe they’ll put you
in witness protection.”

“I can’t take that chance.”

I looked at Major. He shrugged. We could wait.
Jordan had probably called 911 by now. The police would be here
soon, and they’d flush him out with tear gas.

Which gave me an idea…

I took a can of pepper spray from my jacket pocket.
It was the large size – 200 mL – that I carried at all times to
keep feral dogs at bay.

I didn’t know exactly where Jack was but probably
hunkered down behind Jordan’s oak desk. I gave the can a good shake
and rolled it into the office. I peeked around the corner, took aim
and popped off a quick one. The can of pepper spray blew up and
skidded off into the corner behind the desk. I hooked my fingers
under the door and swung it shut.

A second volley of shots blew holes in the office
door. I counted four. Depending on his weapon, Jack might not have
many rounds left. I rapped on the closed door with my pistol.
Another two shots ripped through the door. What a dummy.

Inside I heard violent coughing, the sound of
windows being opened. I imagined the scene – office filled with
pepper spray, air too hot to breathe. I rapped on the door again.
This time, no answering gunfire.

I nodded to Major. We got to our feet and he came
across the hall to flank the door with me. I turned the knob and
pushed the door open. We each took a deep breath and entered the
room at diverging angles.

Jack had his head out the window, coughing
violently, gun hand on the windowsill. I went over Jordan’s desk
and tackled Jack. He went down in a pile, arms flailing. Major
snatched the pistol from his grip.

We each grabbed an arm and dragged him from the
office, gulping for air as we hit the landing, not pausing for the
stairs, down the hallway and into the back yard.

Jack curled up on the pool patio, coughing, his eyes
streaming with tears. Major and I sat on pool chairs to catch our
breath. I inspected the ribs I’d bruised diving across Jordan’s
desk. I was getting too old for this.

I heard a siren approaching. The police would be
here any minute and it’d be out of our hands. There was just one
more thing I had to do.

Jack had stopped coughing and risen to his hands and
knees. I got out of my chair, came up behind him and gave him a
field goal kick in the nuts. He squealed like a pig and rolled onto
his side, gasping for air and shrilling again as soon as he’d
filled his lungs.

“That’s for what you did to Marielle, you miserable
piece of shit. You were her caretaker and you abused her father’s
trust. Thank your lucky stars we live in a civilized society, else
we’d cut your balls off, grill them on the barbecue and eat them in
front of you.”

I gave him another kick in the groin. He scrabbled
away from me and fell over the rim of the pool. He thrashed around
until Major fished him out with the pool scoop.

“Don’t judge,” I said to Major.

“Never saw a thing,” he shrugged.

~~~

Major and I were still sitting pool-side when the
police arrived to take a teary-eyed felon off our hands. Once Jack
and Tatiana were cuffed and locked in a patrol car, I gave the
police my statement. Jordan and Vivien corroborated their sides of
it. The police wanted to exercise my arrest warrant too but Jordan
called the Commissioner and negotiated my voluntary surrender later
today. The police departed.

We went upstairs to survey the damage to Jordan’s
office. The ventilation from the open windows had made the air
breathable again. Jordan’s file drawers stood open. A panel had
been removed from his computer. A small gym bag lay on his desk. In
it were dozens of files and a computer hard disk.

Jordan leafed through the file folders. “Policy
papers, ward demographic analyses, campaign strategies, sources of
financial support… If Jack had delivered this to the Russians, it
could have provided their people a huge advantage in the
elections.”

“You never thought to keep that stuff locked up?” I
said.

“It was. But I guess Jack found the key.” Jordan
laid the files back on his desk. “The wonder is, why didn’t he do
this earlier?”

“Maybe he was never so desperate,” I said. “Once he
and Tatiana were on the run from the cops, he probably sought
refuge with his handlers. My guess is, they forced him into one
last job.”

We went back downstairs. Someone had unleashed the
dogs from the front steps. Samantha was in the back yard, tossing a
frisbee back and forth for the two Dobermans to catch. Vivien stood
at the bottom of the garden with her back to us, but even from this
distance I saw her shoulders were shaking. After everything that
had happened, she must be heartbroken.

Jordan produced glasses and a decanter of scotch. We
tapped rims and toasted each other’s health. Major bolted his and
helped himself to another.

“I really appreciate what you did,” Jordan told me,
“coming to find me on Hunter Mountain. You risked your life without
a thought of compensation, when many a lesser man would have run
away.”

“I considered that too.”

“But you didn’t cut and run. I admire that. Once my
election campaign swings into gear, I’ll need capable people on my
security team.”

“I’d be happy to join your team.”

“Hell, man, I want you to lead it.”

“Okay, I’ll think about it.” A salaried job in a
bug-free environment sounded good.