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Authors: Martin Bodenham

Once a Killer (42 page)

BOOK: Once a Killer
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Caravini gasped for breath when Bull Neck released his grip. “What do you want? Who are you?”

They bundled Caravini into the kitchen. Bull Neck held onto his arms, pushing him against the kitchen island, while Glass Eye drew the blinds.

“Is there anyone else in the house?” Bull Neck asked.

“No. I’m alone.”

“We can make this real easy for you,” Glass Eye said, scanning the room for weapons. “Or you can have it the hard way, like your man Crouten.”

Caravini flinched when he realized who they were. “What’s the easy way?”

Glass Eye threw a knowing smile at Bull Neck. “I told you that’s what he’d say. Hand me the photos.”

Bull Neck took one hand off Caravini, pulled an envelope out of his inside coat pocket, and then passed it to Glass Eye.

“Recognize these people?” Glass Eye asked, holding up the first photo in front of Caravini’s face. It showed Caravini kissing Abi at what looked like an expensive restaurant.

Caravini stared at the photo. “Jesus. How did you get that?”

“This one’s better.”

Caravini looked at the next photo. This time, it showed him with his hand on Abi’s butt while his tongue was obviously down her throat in a car park. “Okay, I’ve seen enough.”

“I was just getting started. They get better.”

“I don’t need to see them.”

“I’d imagine Cindy would have something to say about these. She’d want to see the full set, wouldn’t she? Let’s wait until she gets back.”

Caravini looked at the floor. “What do you want?”

“Don’t make this too easy. I was having fun.”

“Just tell me what you want.”

“You need to forget about your investigation into the Grannis Hedge Fund.”

“There isn’t one. We stopped it when Grannis died.”

Bull Neck punched Caravini hard in the stomach, and he bent forward in pain.

“Do you think we’re stupid?” Glass Eye said before turning to Bull Neck. “Hold him back up.”

“The investigation has a low priority for us now,” Caravini said, wincing. “It’s as good as over.”

“Well, it needs to be completely finished and never reopened.”

Caravini had a look of incredulity on his face. “Is that it? Is that all you want?”

“We told you this was the easy way. We’re not monsters.”

“If I drop the case, the photos disappear?”

“Of course. Besides, we’d hate to ruin your chances of making mayor. You could be useful to us once you’re there.”

Bull Neck leaned into Caravini’s face. “But don’t fuck with us, or you’ll get the same as Crouten got. That’s after you’ve watched us having fun with Abi.”

“Who knows?” Glass Eye said. “You might even find we can help each other. Let’s just say we have a lot of influence. I’m sure that, with our encouragement, some of our business acquaintances would be happy to endorse you for mayor.”

Caravini nodded. “Okay. I get it. I’ll call off the investigation.”

“There’s just one more thing.”

Fear returned to Caravini’s face. “You said that’s all you want.”

“Call it a bit of extra insurance.”

Bull Neck put his hand into his outside pocket, and Caravini stepped back.

“Don’t worry,” Glass Eye said. “We’re not gonna shoot you. We just want a photograph.”

Bull Neck took out a compact digital camera from his pocket while Glass Eye put his arm around Caravini’s shoulder and faced the camera.

“Smile,” Bull Neck said, clicking away. “You need to look like you guys are real good friends.”

Chapter 61

D
RAPES
T
WITCHED
A
S
T
HE
B
LACK
M
ERCEDES
pulled up on the road outside the Carpenters’ house in Westport. Inside the car, Glass Eye and Bull Neck kept watch on the Hoffman home, leaving the keys in the ignition in case they needed to make a quick getaway.

“When do they normally leave?” Glass Eye asked without looking at his accomplice.

“The service starts at ten.” Bull Neck glanced at his watch. “They should be out by now, but her car’s still here.”

“We can’t do this if his wife and daughters are still around. We’ll have to come back.”

“Hold on.” Bull Neck leaned over the steering wheel to get closer to the windshield. “That’s her now.”

They watched as Caroline helped Hannah and Emily into the back of her Toyota Prius before reversing down their driveway and onto the tree-lined road. As expected, the car drove in the opposite direction to the Mercedes.

“How much time do we have?”

“Every other Sunday I‘ve been here, she’s been gone for at least an hour and a half, maybe longer if she goes to her sister’s after.”

“This shouldn’t take long.”

The two men waited another five minutes to make sure Caroline wasn’t going to return.

“Are we ready?” Bull Neck said, removing the ignition key.

“You’re not coming with me.” Glass Eye reached for the door handle. “I’ll deal with this on my own.”

“What am I? Your chauffeur?”

“Today, that’s all I need you to be.”

Bull Neck sucked in his cheeks. “Okay. You’re the boss now.”

“You’d do well to remember that.”

“I’m sure you won’t let me forget it.”

“Just keep an eye out for the woman. Sound the horn if she comes back.”

Glass Eye slammed the door shut and sauntered over to the Hoffmans’ house without looking back at the car.

Bull Neck swore under his breath and then turned on the radio.

Since he’d picked all his clients back up, Michael had been swamped with work. The M&A market was booming, and this year looked like it was going to set a new record for the number of initial public offerings, too. The corporate department at Dudek, Collins, & Hamilton was buzzing most days and, during the week, it was now rare for him to get home much before nine. The only exception was Tuesdays, when he still made time to teach at the college.

Caroline could live with his long hours. She’d even accepted their Wednesday date night was a thing of the past, but she wasn’t happy about her husband having to work most weekends again. She kept saying how much she enjoyed having him back during his recent lull. What happened to striking a work/life balance? All Michael could do was apologize but, in truth, he enjoyed immersing himself back into the normality of legal work, even if it was high-pressured. The more he focused on his job, the more distance it put between him and the horror of the past few months. Each day had become a little easier. So far, he’d heard nothing more from Caravini and not a word from the police in connection with Rondell’s death. While his nerves were still raw, he looked forward to the day when this whole episode was just a dim and distant memory.

When the bell rang, Michael rose from his desk in the study and walked to the front door. Through the frosted glass top of the door, he could make out the silhouette of a man standing in the porch, so it wasn’t Caroline.

“Remember me?” Glass Eye asked when Michael opened the door. His breathing was labored, and he stood with a stoop, holding a pistol in his right hand.

Michael recoiled when he saw the weapon and then stepped back into the hallway, immediately recognizing Glass Eye from the time he and his muscle-headed friend had confronted him at Westport’s station car park.

“What do you want?”

“Move slowly to the back of the house,” Glass Eye said, holding the gun no more than two feet from Michael’s chest. “I don’t want anyone to see this.” He kicked the door closed behind him.

Michael edged backward along the hallway and into the kitchen.

“Sit there.” Glass Eye pointed the pistol at the table.

Michael sat at the table while Glass Eye took a seat on the opposite side, still aiming the weapon at him. The man’s heavy wheezing subsided a few seconds after he sat down.

“What do you want from me?”

“I know you were there that night.”

Michael angled his head. “What night?”

“When Rondell was killed.”

Did he just say “Rondell”? That was the first time Michael had ever heard any of his people call him anything other than “James Grannis.”

“I heard he was killed, but I had nothing to do with it, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

Glass Eye managed a thin smile. “Don’t insult my intelligence. He told me all about the contract you took out on him.”

“Look, I don’t know what he said to you, but I had nothing to do with his death. The papers said it was some sort of gangland hit.”

“I know you were going to meet him in Brooklyn the night he died.”

“That’s not true.”

“You were there to see him about another deal.”

“I never got to see him. He said he was going out of town, so we agreed to meet when he returned.”

“Listen, he told me he was going to Brooklyn to meet with you, so quit the bullshit. He was never going out of town. It was a set-up. He knew what you were up to and wanted somewhere quiet to deal with you.”

“Deal with me how?”

“He wanted to tell you how he’d found out about your hit man and why he hadn’t fallen for the BIX story. He knew everything and was just waiting for you to call. He couldn’t wait to see what you’d try next.”

“That’s not—”

“What was the plan? Were you going to try another fake story to see if we’d bite?”

“I know nothing about a hit man. None of this makes sense. All the deals I took him were real enough, and I know you made money off them.”

“You still deny you were there that night?”

“I told you; we never got to meet.”

“I suppose you’re gonna deny working with Caravini, too?”

Michael started to speak, but Glass Eye waved the gun in the air to shut him up.

“Rondell and I knew all about your little scheme with the FBI. I wanted to take out one of your family, but he made me settle for the broad from Corton Zander. I wasn’t convinced that was enough, but he said he’d take care of you himself. What went wrong, Michael? Or should I call you Danny? Did he rough you up some? Did you get lucky?”

Was there any point denying what happened? It was clear the man knew everything. “Are you going to shoot me? Is that why you’re here?”

Glass Eye shook his head. “You really don’t remember me, do you?”

“I don’t understand.”

“From Chicago, all those years ago.”

“What?”

“I’ve known you since you were a young boy.”

“I don’t know you.”

“You should. We lived in the same block.”

Glass Eye used his left hand to unbutton the top of his shirt. Pulling back his collar, he revealed a fading tattoo of a butterfly spread across his chest.

Michael flinched. His mouth felt dry, and it took a few seconds to process the information. “You’re Rondell’s uncle.” How had he not recognized him? “I don’t remember your eye.”

“That was a little gift from Rondell not long after he got out of prison.”

“What for?”

“I told him to stop calling me uncle. I wanted him to know I was his father. He lost it, almost killed me.”

“I had no idea.”

“So you see, Danny, this is personal.”

“And you think that gives you the right to kill me?”

“I’m not going to kill you unless I have to.”

“What do you want from me, then?”

“Can’t you guess?”

Michael sat in silence for a moment until it dawned on him. “You want me to continue feeding you deals.”

Glass Eye nodded. “That’s right, but the first time I even suspect you giving me false information, one of your daughters will be killed. That seems only fair, since you killed my son, don’t you think?”

“What about the FBI investigation? There’s no way you can continue when they’re onto you. It’s madness.”

BOOK: Once a Killer
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