My Wife's Li'l Secret (11 page)

BOOK: My Wife's Li'l Secret
8.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Chapter Seventeen

 

 

We stopped at a mall, and while Bear ran into the supermarket for the meat, I popped in at the pharmacy next door and purchased Benylin Night syrup and some Restful Sleep syrup.

Ten minutes later, Bear and I were driving towards the house again.

We parked on a side street, where Bear laced the meat with the Benylin and Restful Sleep and handed it to me together with a paper bag and two industrial magnets. “You know what to do.”

I nodded.

“Now, remember, when I say leave, you leave. Get it?”

“Of course!” I removed pepper spray from the cubby of the ute and stuck it into my pocket.

With the Benylin-soaked steaks in one hand, my paper bag in the other, the magnets in my pocket, and my ear buds connected to my phone so I could communicate with Bear, I walked briskly up to the house and faced the dogs.

They eyed me silently.

“How you doing?” I said as I threw the meat through the wrought iron fence at them. “Nice doggies.”

They devoured the steaks in less than half a minute. As expected.

“Did they take it?” Bear asked.

“Fuck yeah!” I said. “Two kilos of meat gone in thirty seconds. I kid you not.”

“Good, then.”

The dogs looked at me. No growling or anything, just expectantly eyed me.

“Sorry, no more, boys. Hope you’re boys. If you’re girls, I apologize.”

They continued to stand like wax dummies, their eyes fixed to the bag in my hand. Four huge Rottweilers, less than two feet away, quietly eyeing me like I was a giant T-bone steak – scary.

It was their quietness that creeped me out more than anything else. If they had barked, growled, snapped, I could handle it. But eight eyes staring silently at me? I had to admit, I was nuts to take such a chance.

“What’s happening?” Bear’s voice crackled in my ear.

“Nada. They’re still on their feet, eyeballing me.”

“Mm.”

Five long minutes later, nothing had changed.

“Sleepy yet? Huh? C’mon you guys, I got no beef with you. Just go to sleep.”

I heard Bear laugh.

Minutes later, their eyes started to droop. Then the dogs began to sway.

Sweet!

They continued to look at me, but judging by the way their bodies twitched, the shakiness of their legs, and their hooded eyelids, the medication was clearly taking effect. “Good doggies, now go to sleep.”

They remained upright.

“C’mon guys, I don’t have all day,” I said.

“Sing them a lullaby,” Bear said.

“What? Fuck off!”

“Do it. Sheba likes lullabies. Arena used to sing to her when she was a puppy and she would fall asleep immediately. I swear.”

“Aw, c’mon!”

“Seriously. I’m not kidding. We don’t have time. Do it!”

I cocked my head at the dogs. “Want me to sing you a lullaby?” I scratched my chin. “Yeah? Okay then.” With a chuckle, I sang to them in a soothing voice, similar to the one I use when I sing to my little daughters. “How much is that doggie in the window…?”

You wouldn’t believe it, but Bear was right – as I crooned, they dropped to the floor and started to curl around each other.

“Amazing!” I said. “They’re sleeping!”

“Told ya.”

I was deeply touched by their childlike behavior and hoped to God I didn’t have to use the pepper spray on the lovely killers. Eh, creatures.

“Double check,” Bear said.

With a nod, I shook the gate hard.

No response.
Great
! “Niiiiice doggies.”

Confident they were knocked out, I climbed the fence –with great difficulty I must add –and armed with just pepper spray, I entered the property.

“I’m in!”

“Cool. Any outdoor sensors?”

I squinted in the dark. “Nothing in the front, I’m sure. With these dogs, I doubt they’d have outside sensors.”

“Okay, be careful. And hurry!”
I backed slowly toward the house, my eyes constantly on the dogs, just in case I was wrong and they weren’t knocked out.

The dogs took turns to slowly lift their heads and look at me. I held my breath whenever they did, pepper spray held in front of me like a talisman. But they lowered their heads again and fell asleep.

I exhaled.

Even though we were sure nobody was home, I knocked gently at the front door and waited, ready to spin a yarn about being lost to whoever opened the door. (I am lost, so I scaled your property, then crept past four vicious canines. Yeah, right.)

If they didn’t believe me, I’d have no choice but to pepper spray
them
.

Nobody answered.

Gently, I tried the door. “Front door locked,” I reported. Of course it would be locked.

With my pepper spray clutched firmly in my hand, I crept around to the back door, past the sleepy Rottweilers, and knocked on it. Still no answer. I tried the back door. “Back door is also locked.”

“O…kay,” Bear said. “Any sign of an alarm?”

“Yeah. But I got my magnets ready.”

Bear and I were into surveillance, but we were also experts in commercial alarms. Our biggest friends when it came to disabling alarms were the magnets. We used them to disable sensors and prevent them from going off.

With those dogs, the house really didn’t need an alarm. Anyone who chose to brave those dogs was nuts. Example: me.

Suddenly, I smiled. “Open window!” I said, my voice brimming with excitement. “If there is an alarm, it’s not activated, bro.”

“That means they’re coming back soon. So move it. Can you get in?”

I didn’t answer, but began to work on the window.

“I’m inside,” I announced minutes later as I crept into the house in search of an alarm. “Bear, there is an alarm, but it isn’t activated."

“Okay, cool. You have five minutes to fuck up the sensors, install those cams, and get the hell out of there, Big.”

“’Kay!” I said as I poked around.

At first glance, I could find nothing of interest.

When I went into a bedroom, I balked at the sight of Becky’s baby bottle on a dressing table. The milk in it was sour and the teat was dirty.

When I opened the cupboard, I whistled. Inside were Liefie’s shoes and some of her clothes. All shiny, sequined stuff—evening wear. Clothes that I had seen her wear recently.

“So this is her hangout, then.”

My instinct was to remove Becky’s bottle, but I didn’t want to disturb anything.

I walked up the stairs and tried a closed door. It was locked. I fished into my pocket for a thin file and worked on the lock. It wouldn’t open.

“Leave it,” Bear said.

“Okay,” I replied, but I continued struggling with the lock. About five minutes later, the door opened.

Great
!

I stepped inside and my jaw dropped. “Jayzus!”

“What? What? What?!”

Cocaine. More than thirty kilos of the stuff was packed neatly on a table. Some in solid bricks, some packaged for sale in tiny plastic bags.

I filled Bear in on what I was looking at.

“Don’t touch it!” he said. “Just do your shit and get out of there!”

“These guys really should step up their security if they’ve got
valuable
stuff like this lying around.” I said. “We can help them install,” I said with a wry laugh.

“Move it, Big,” Bear repeated, his voice strained.

An industrial photocopy machine stood in the corner of the room. Scattered on a desk nearby were several passports, all belonging to Australian citizens. It was clear to me they were into identity theft, which usually led to an assortment of thefts.

This is where Liefie brings my daughter?

Shaking my head, I poked around some more. Before I left, I took a brick of cocaine, stuck it into my jacket, and zipped up. It felt heavy, definitely more than a kilo.

“Big?” Bear said. “You okay?”

“All’s well.”

“You have two minutes.”

Under normal circumstances, I would have tipped off the cops about my find, arranged a massive bust, and pocketed the reward money. But that would have to wait. I had other plans.

“Big? Move it, man!”

“I’m moving, I’m moving!”

After making sure I left everything in the state I found it in, save for the kilo of coke in my jacket, I removed two tiny spy cameras from my bag and installed them in the room.

Then I locked the door and moved to another room.

The room was empty except for a huge floating mirror.

Why would a mirror this size be in an empty room? I wondered.

In my experience, a mirror that size in a property like this usually hid a safe. Slowly I moved aside the mirror. “A wall safe!” I said out loud. “A huge one. More like a strong-room.”

“Okay,” Bear said.

I smiled, replaced the mirror, then positioned a spy camera on the wall across from the safe.

A safe this size is usually used to house weapons. I thought again of my daughter being brought here as I installed two more cameras in the room.

Bear’s voice crackled in my ear. “One minute!”

“Coming!” I said, and darted downstairs. Quickly, I ran around installing more spy cameras throughout the house in strategic places.

“Ritchie, get out of there. Now!” Bear was using my full name. That told me he was stressed. That also told me that we probably had company.

Shit!

“Two more cameras!” I said.

“Leave them! Just get the fuck out of there! NOW!”

I looked at the last two cameras in my hand. How could I leave without installing them? To leave would be the smart thing to do, yet somehow, I just couldn’t leave without finishing the job.

In spite of Bear’s warning, I scooted around and quickly mounted them.

“Ritchie!”

Just as I finished the last one, the driveway gates opened and Cruikshank and his friends pulled into the driveway, Russian music blaring.

There was no way out for me.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Chapter Eighteen

 

 

Thinking fast, I zipped into the nearest bedroom and slid under the bed where I froze.

“Dogs are quiet today,” I heard one of the men say.

“Good for nothing morons!” another voice said. I heard one of the dogs yelp. Did that fucker just kick the dog? The thought of him hurting the animal made me want to kill him.

The men barged into the house.

“Ritchie?” Bear whispered in my ear.

I couldn’t answer.

From where I was, I peeped from under the bed and saw the faces of just two men, but I counted ten shoes.

Shit!

When they sat around the dining table and started drinking, I was able to get a good view of all of them.

Cruikshank was there and as usual drank heavily, even though he was supposed to drive home.

Irresponsible fuck!

As for me, I was seriously trapped. My mind raced. It looked like they lived in this house, so I would have to wait for them to go to sleep before I made a move.

What if they didn’t go to bed for hours? What if more men arrived? What if they discovered me? I had no weapon except for my measly pepper spray.

I could stay where I was and hope to God that I was not found, but Bear would be waiting for me. When I finally looked at my phone to text him, I was horrified to see just one bar left on my phone’s battery.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Bear had texted me five times, so I quietly texted him back.

Im under the bed all is ok ph battery dying stay put

I put away the phone and tried to relax. Relax my six-foot-three frame under a bed, with a brick of cocaine crushing into my chest.

It was going to be a long night, and I only had myself to thank for the predicament I was in.

Two hours later, I heard goodbyes. The door had opened and shut. They were leaving! I got excited.

But only Cruikshank left. Damn!

Still, one down, four to go.

Even if they left the house and went to bed, there was still the issue of the dogs; how long would the Benylin and Sleepright last? Four, five hours? Would the dogs then be even more vicious in their disoriented state? There was no way pepper spray was going to protect me from four Rottweilers who were obviously trained to kill. The image of them wiping out the steak in seconds played in my head and my anxiety peaked.

As I lay cramped under the bed, I desperately tried to come up with a plan when facing the dogs. I would throw a stick or something (I’d have to find one first) toward the back of the house, and when the dogs ran toward it, I would race to the front of the property and scale the fence.

I had no choice. I had to chance the dogs. It was four identity-stealing, cocaine-drug-dealing Russians, or four Rottweilers. How’s that for a choice?

The question was: what if the dogs didn’t chase after the stick, and chased after me instead?

That plan sucked.

As for
scaling
that fence? At my age? I had to move to Plan B. Except, there was no Plan B.
Shit! Shit! Shit!

Bear! He could drive his ute into the property, smash down the front gate, and rescue me. Sure, it was extreme and SWAT-like, but …

Did I mention it was all my fault? My downfall in life is my desire to have the last word.

It was a flaw of mine (and still is). If I hadn’t insisted on installing those last two spy cameras, I wouldn’t have been in that dangerous position. But no, I had to finish what I started.

Dumbass!
(Not you, me.)

At around midnight, the men began to drop, one by one. Finally.

But one of the men decided to stay up and watch Jerry Springer re-runs while he finished the remainder of the bottle of vodka on the table.

I groaned as the brick of coke threatened to bore a hole through my chest.

To make matters worse, I realized that the Springer-watching fucker slept in the bed I was hiding under! How’s that for luck?

By then I struggled to feel my legs. In my pocket, my phone lit up several times. I was sure it was Liefie. I ignored her calls and hoped she wouldn’t call again and kill my dying battery.

Thankfully, Bear did not call again.

Perhaps it was the lack of oxygen, because in spite of my anxiety, I began to feel really sleepy. I forced myself to stay awake and not doze off, praying my cramps didn’t morph into the ones which seized my legs and had me hopping around like an untrained ballerina.

To add to my woes, I heard the dogs. Not barking or growling though, just soft whimpering and sounds of them moving around.

The sleep syrup was wearing off.
Fuuuuuck
!

My phone gave one long vibration then stopped, leaving me feeling exposed and scared.

Finally, the Springer-watching Russian stumbled to bed around 5 a.m. and literally crashed onto the bed, causing the mattress to slam against my head.

Bastard!

He then let out the biggest fart I have ever heard. The vile smell of cabbage and pumpkin caused me to gag.

A gas mask at that moment would have been most welcome.

Was he the arsehole who kicked the dog? I wondered. Something told me he was.

For a short while I entertained myself – I fantasized about having a long sword that I could drive into him from where I was, hopefully impaling him in the nuts. Then I would crawl out from under the bed, stand above him, and smile at the bloody mess on the bed. “You’ll never have the
balls
to kick a dog again, you fat fuck.” I nodded at the mental image.

His loud snoring interrupted my reverie, and I decided it was time to brave it.

With my heart in my mouth, at 5:30 a.m. I finally slithered out from under the bed and prepared to tiptoe out of the room.

To my dismay, my legs failed me, something I had not anticipated.

I had to take it slow until blood pumped to my leg muscles again. Of course, with my newly acquired limp, racing out of the house like I had planned to and
scaling
the fence, or even climbing it, was out of the question.

At the back door, I stopped and eyed a set of knives on a block. But I really couldn’t see myself stabbing the dogs. No way! Instead, I picked up a broom lying nearby and braced myself for my encounter with the dogs. I hoped to God I didn’t have to use it on them.

Slowly, I stuck out the broom and waited for them to charge at it.

They didn’t.

I shook the broom.

Still nothing.

I inched my head around to look at them. To my utter surprise, the dogs were once again sleeping!

How? I had no idea.

It had to be the Benylin and Sleepright, I told myself. We gave them more than we should have. Jeez, hope we didn’t kill them!

Gingerly, with the broom held high and ready to slam it into the killers, I crept past them. “How much is that doggie in the window…? Nice …doggies!”

The moment I got out of the gates, cramps or no cramps, I limped-ran toward the ute. Thankfully, Bear had seen me coming and had the engine running.

“Fuck, Big!” Bear said as he drove away. “Got me sweating bricks there, man! What the fuck?!”

I slumped into my seat, my heart still pounding. “Whew!”

“You okay?” He glanced at me, then at the road.

“No, Bear! I thought I was going to…” I ran my index finger across my neck. “Fuuuuuck!”

We exchanged solemn looks before we burst out laughing.

“You’re a crazy cunt, you know that, Big?”

“I am, I am! Olga’s sent me over the edge, man. I’m a goner, man!”

When I told him my plan for him to crash his ute into the property gates, Bear glanced sideways at me. “That’s a fucked-up plan.”

“It was a fucked up plan and I hoped to God I wasn’t going to need it. What I don’t understand is how the dogs were awake one minute then asleep again?”

Bear pointed to his chest. “While you were playing dead under that bed, I got more meat, soaked it in syrup, and fed it to them.”

“Christ, Bear! You’re smarter than you look.”

“Guess I am! Guess I am!”

I took out my phone and stuck it in the USB port to charge.

As we drove, I filled him in about Olga’s clothes and Becky’s baby bottle.

“You serious?”

“Man, Bear, I want to confront her. So badly.”

“It may get ugly. Besides, as Jai said, he wasn’t sure about his info. Let’s find out what her ties to those Russians are. Now we'll have more footage, more ammo – it’ll be interesting to see what’s going on in that house. ”

“Mm.”

Suddenly I noticed that traffic had slowed to a crawl. I frowned. “What’s happening?”

Bear sighed. “Random breath test, I think. Or could be a stop and search.”

The cocaine! We need to turn the ute around now!

I struggled to sit up. In front of us were red, blue and white flashing lights, with cops all over the place, and a few canines. It was a random breath testing
and
a stop and search!

Fuuuuck!

I jerked to look behind us. Not only were we on the motorway with no chance of turning around, but a long line of vehicles rolled behind us. Worse, behind us, two cop cars waited on the shoulder of the road. That ruled out any chance of us turning the ute around and escaping the roadblock.

I was fucked.

Slowly, I turned to look at Bear, visions of me rotting in prison for twenty years swarming my tired brain.

My kids! What happens to them?

“Chill,” Bear said with a yawn. “It’ll go quick. Routine …”

That’s what you think!

With my hand over the cocaine, I looked at my brother-in-law, a fairly law-abiding citizen (he was never one to start shit, but he never backed down from a fight, and if ever I got into fight, I’d want him in my corner) who was about to face a barrage of questions from the cops.

“W…where were we?” I asked. “All night? In case anyone asks.”

“We’ve been at the office all night working to catch up on stuff, but we decided to drive by Merrylands Mall to check it out, as we may be tendering for a contract there soon,” Bear intoned in a calm manner. “Traffic was quiet, we knew we weren’t going to be able to sleep, so it was a good opportunity…” He looked at me and shrugged.

I nodded as we inched closer to the stop and search. Cars were being waved to the side of the road and thoroughly searched.

Shit!

My mind raced. Maybe I could slit the bag and dump the coke outside the window, I thought. Leave a trail of white powder as we drove? It was a dumb idea, but I was panicking.

I looked ahead, my heart thudding, my mouth feeling like I had swallowed sand, my throat closing up.

Three more cars and we’d be in the hands of the cops.

Slowly, I ran my hands over my face. It was time to tell Bear.

“Bear,” I croaked. “Bro, I…I will take full responsibility for …this.”

With a frown, he turned and looked at me.

Slowly, I unzipped my jacket and flashed the brick of coke at him.

His jaw dropped and his eyes bulged.

“Coke,” I said, even though I didn’t have to. “You just drove me there and waited for me in the car. You had no idea about anything, okay?”

Bear stared at me, a look of utter disbelief on his face. His neck jerked to look at the cops and canines a few feet away from us. Finally, he spoke. “Get our safety vests and our hard hats!” He jerked his head toward the back.  “Quick!”

I unbuckled my seat belt, turned around, and brought to the front two neon-colored safety vests and two hard hats.

Quickly, we struggled into the vests, then placed the orange hard hats on the dash and the floor, in full view of the cops. And waited.

We were next in line.

Other books

Smilla's Sense of Snow by Peter Høeg
Mission: Cook! by Robert Irvine
The Henry Sessions by June Gray
Flowers From Berlin by Noel Hynd
The Pack by Donna Flynn
The Loss of the Jane Vosper by Freeman Wills Crofts
Sequence by Adam Moon