The cinema of my dreams – It continued in London – Episode 40

Safe in an anonymous hotel

There was no time for an explanation, picking up on the urgency in my tone.  They gathered up a few belongings because I added they couldn’t come back, and, after Cecelia and I tossed the work phones on the kitchen bench, we headed down the stairs to the basement.

By the time the call with Alfie ended, I realized that we were just supposed to find her, Rodby had a whole other team on standby ready to ‘extract’ her.  And, if I was not mistaken, it would be against her will if she didn’t want to go with them.  It was why she greeted us with a gun, she knew what might happen.

Perhaps she knew the Rodby’s better than I did.

Like certain parts of London various groups of building basements were used by the defence forces and government offices, and the one Juliet was staying in might have been one because the basement was connected to another and another, and it felt like it had once been offices, given the green walls, arrows and exit signs, and overhead lighting.

At the end, we came out into a narrow alley between buildings and not far from that, Russell Square underground.  Just before descending, Cecilia gave me a new phone.  She had brought another two burner phones, acting on instinct, or perhaps knowing how much of a maverick I was.  Or she had simply changed roles, and become a maverick of her own.

We took the train to the one place I thought, for the moment, to be the safest.  Heathrow airport, and on the way, Cecelia booked two rooms at the hotel nearest to the underground station.  Five more people, some with bags would not look out of place.  But just Cecelia and I checked in with other IDs, and took a room each, and the others wandered up after us.

Almost an hour and a half later we were sitting in the room Cecelia booked for her and me, both with a second bedroom, but this one had a dining area.  She smiled at me when I realised there were two rooms.

“Now, I’m going to assume that you will trust me to a certain degree, and when I say I have no idea what is going on, except that it has to do with the Burkhardt family, there’s an inheritance that needs to be claimed in a few days, and there’s someone trying to assassinate Juliet, who appears to be a direct descendant of the count and an eligible heir.”

I looked at Vittoria, who was still very confused with the turn of events, and probably evaluating whether I could be trusted or not.  “I now believe you are Juliet’s mother.”  Now that mother and daughter were sitting side by side, the similarities between them.

Vittoria and the countess were sharing another pizza that Celecia had ordered up through room service, along with several bottles of red wine.  Juliet went over to the kitchenette, opened one, and poured five glasses.

It was not a bad wine, perhaps an Italian Sangiovese.

Juliet remained standing and looked at her mother.  “Even I’m confused at the moment.  When do you and the countess become friends?”

“We have been for quite some time, particularly after I realised she had nothing to do with my banishment.  That was the count, at the behest of his mother, who has been the true villain in both our lives.”  

Vittoria looked at her daughter, “I’ve come to realize the threats against all of us are the work of that vile woman.  This is the third or fourth attempt on your life, I’ve been attacked twice, and now the countess just escaped from what I perceive to be a threat, instigated by her.”

“Are you saying my old friend is working with her?  I hardly think she knows who the old woman is.  And assuming that she doesn’t, what other reason would she have to do with what just happened.”  She looked at me, “You came to the opera with us, so you must know her.”

“Not because I was a friend of the family, I’m not.  I think now I was asked along for a very specific reason, one she might not have been privy to, but that her husband, my old employer, was.  And my experience over the years is that nothing to do with him is ever straightforward.”

“Are you one of his people now?”  The way she said it, it sounded like she considered me a hatchet man.

“No, not exactly, nor is Cecelia.  We just do this and that from time to time.  I thought I was in retirement, Cecelia is in between acting roles, and he simply asked us to find you.”

“Then if you were seeking the countess, how did you know about me, and turn up at the conference hall, coincidentally when an assassin tried to kill me?”  Juliet made a good argument.

“I may have done a little research.  The countesses feud with Vittoria, and the uncovering of photographs, one of which had the teen version of you with your mother, Vittoria, at the Chateau in Sorrento, the same Chateau where the countess resides.  Sometimes we get lucky.  I was surprised though Juliet, given your history.  I didn’t bring them, and, by the way, I was the one who nearly got shot and killed.”

I could see Vittoria shaking her head.  “If you can make the distinction, then others can too.  Neither of us are now safe.  At least I can discount orange ribbon girl.  I knew she was tailing me, and I thought I lost her.”

Cecelia smiled.  “You wish.  Top of my class for surveillance.

I thought I would add a little spice to the conversation, “Why did you give the impression you’ve been trying to kill the countess?”

That brought a look of consternation from both.  The countess answered, “Only for the sake of appearances, and to keep the rest of the family away from the idea that we had joined forces, which is the only way we’re going to keep them from realizing we know more about them than they think we do.”

“But not enough to stop them from trying to stop both of you and now all three of you, from claiming the inheritance?”

“It is actually all of the business.  The Count held all the shares.  It was his, passed down from his father, and all he had to do with the rest of the family members was give them jobs.  That ownership would be passed to me, or any children of ours if there were any.  We could not, but he told me on his death bed there was one.”

“Juliet.”

“Whose mother was the woman he wanted to marry but was not allowed to, but whom he had got pregnant and promised to look after.  Nobility and their secrets.  But he also told his brother, Alessandro, who in turn told the mother, who really is a nasty piece of work.  She made it perfectly clear to me before I came to London that it would be for the best if I did not attend the signing of the inheritance papers in a few days’ time.  If I chose not to, I would be given a house to live in and a large sum of money for my helpfulness.  It is the reason I got away from the hotel the night of the opera, because I believe Alessandro had arranged for me to be kidnapped, or worse.”

“Who would get the assets, if not you?” I asked.

“As per the provisions of the will, Alessandro who is the next male heir, who had arrived at the hotel and was waiting in my room to see me.  I understand it would not be good business for the company to be run by a woman.  Especially one without any experience and had been sent to make sure it didn’t happen.”

“That story about a bitter rival?”

“It was always Alessandro.  I had first met him, and we had one date before I was swept up by the Count and taken away from him.  He never forgave me for passing him over.  He had always expected his older brother would marry for love and let him take over the business.”

“And you suspected he was there to remove you when he knew that with the girl the count had confessed existed with a stronger claim?  I doubt that was why he was there.  You are not a threat to them.  Not according to the terms of the will.”

The countess glared at me.  “How do you know this?”

“Let’s just say I know.”  I turned back to Vittoria.  “Why were you trying to get close to Alessandro, surely he knew you were his brother’s former lover?”

“To be honest, I have no idea.  Perhaps I have changed since those early days.  I was surprised she didn’t recognise me from the time I spent with the Count.  It was mostly to find out what they were planning, but he wasn’t that interested in me, or would he talk about the family.  Perhaps he knew I had a romantic attachment to his brother all those years ago, though at times he seemed too stupid to know what day it was.  He couldn’t run the business; if you want an opinion, it is the old woman who wants it and nothing ever stands in her way.  She is ruthless.  I wouldn’t be surprised if she killed the count.  And now she is after my beautiful daughter.”

“Well, we can’t let that happen.”

The whole story was a tangled web of deceit and lies, just the sort of stuff that really old families like the Burkehardt’s were.  And typically the old women were the matriarchs that kept everything going.

But I wasn’t so sure Alessandro was as stupid as Vittoria made out.

“How do you two know each other?”  Vittoria’s gaze went from me back to Juliet.

Juliet answered.  “He was injured and spent time in hospital.  I was there working on rehabilitation programmes, and I drew the short straw.  We spent a lot of time together, it went on for a little after he was discharged, and then my world exploded.  We ran into each other recently when I got into some trouble with an old acquaintance who used my stepbrother as leverage.  Evan got him freed and sorted the problem.  We didn’t get back together.”

“And yet you speak so fondly of him?”

I hoped Vittoria was not one of those match-making mothers.

“He saved my brother, and me.  That’s it.”

And to prevent any more discussion, I said, “We need to formulate a plan that gets you to Italy as soon as possible but not by conventional means.  Rodby is already all over the trains, planes, and ferries.”

“What other way is there?”

“Where there’s a will there’s a way.  I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

© Charles Heath 2023

Motive, means, and opportunity – Episode 8

A deep dive into Bergman’s Timeline

Bryson rubbed his eyes and leaned back in his chair.  This was going to be a day that never ended.  For some, the day ended while the sun was still shining, for others, they might as well be vampires.

There were so many potential suspects in the Bergman case, it was rapidly become a case of where to start.

The medical examiner’s report was sitting on his desk when he got back, and it didn’t say much more than he already knew other than the time of death had moved to a more specific window of between 10:30 and 11:00 pm.  It might be a little later, but the cold weather played havoc with the body.

But the time fitted the fact he had a meeting at 10pm, according to Wendy Anderson.  Who was he meeting, and how had it been set up, and why in the car park of the Brooklyn Zoo?  The broken CCTV camera could not be the only reason.

Still determined to be a close shot, through the window of the car, fragments of glass were found in the wound.  Death was instantaneous, a blessing perhaps.  He was in the driver’s seat, keys in hand, so he was preparing to get out.

The weapon could be a Glock 19, and 9mm ammunition.  One bullet was all it took to kill him.  Up close and personal, it was most likely the shooter someone he knew.

So Bergman’s timeline so far looked like this:

09:00 Bergman comes in for a half hour and then leaves

12:00 or thereabouts, pick up a rental car from Atlantic Avenue Brooklyn

Home perhaps in Jamaica?

19:03 Calls Wendy as he is leaving his residence, on his way to James Anderson’s

On average takes 45 minutes to drive from Jamaica to Prospect Park Zoo a few minutes more to Anderson’s

20:30 Bergman arrives at James Anderson’s

21:05 Text message from Bergman to Wendy after leaving Anderson’s.

22:30 Approx, Bergman murdered in carpark

Then the questions:

Why did Bergman rent the car in the name of Megarry?  Was it because he used that name to pick up women, and had he arranged a liaison?  They wouldn’t be the first people to drive to a certain spot, meet, one leaves their car, and they go off to someplace else.

Who was Bergman meeting and how had the meeting been arranged?  The second phone?  The search would have to be widened to near the carpark, though the chances of finding it discarded were little to none.

They would now need the phone records of Wendy Anderson, James Anderson, Stacy Bergman, and Richard Hollingsworth.

More was needed on the relationship between brother and sister Hollingsworth.  Both could want him dead for various reasons.

That was as far as the scribbled notes got when Worthey walked in.  He looked tired and jaded.

“I’m sure the world is mostly populated by assholes,” he said, throwing himself into his chair.

“And this assumption has been caused by?”

“Hotel concierge.  They see everything, know everyone, and yet are happy to cite confidentiality ad their credo when it suits them.  If I offered them a few hundred dollar notes they’d sing like canaries.”

“We don’t have that kind of money.”

“But Stacy Bergman does, or at least her team of PI’s.  He’s had six different women he’s taken to dinner in the last month, and the favourite, Wendy Anderson.  And a week ago they had a very loud bust up in the restaurant.  She stormed out, they haven’t been back since.  Her that is, not him.  He was back two nights later with another woman.”

“How did you come by this tidbit?”

“One of the front counter staff took pity on me.  She didn’t like the concierge, reckons he’s a little handy, so the price of information was to warn him about being more circumspect around the female staff.”

“So, all was not well in paradise.  Probably the photos and veiled threats.”

“A viable suspect, too.”

Worthey looked up at the whiteboard Bryson had been writing on.  “OK, I came up with this brainstorm, that the rental should have a GPS, so I went to the rental office and, success.  We know where the car was from the moment, he picked it up until the moment he parked at the Zoo,”

He pulled out his notebook.

“Left the rental office at 12:08 pm.  Arrived at 84th Avenue Jamaica at 12:43, with one-stop, presumably a gas station, I checked the coordinates.  Left Jamaica at 19:23, stops to get takeaway at 19:40, leaves there at 20:04, and arrives at Anderson’s at 20:43.  He’s there until 20:58, then leaves, drives to the Zoo Car Park arriving there at 21:21.  He doesn’t take the direct route, he just seems to be driving in circles, killing time.”

“Good.  Fill in the timeline to reflect those times.  Then check his phone records for calls, in or out for the time he was home, the time he was getting takeout, and the time after he left Anderson’s.  Any word on the CCTV camera between Anderson and the Zoo?”

“Not yet.  There doesn’t appear to be anyone home.  I’m in the process of finding who lives there so I can track them down.”

“Excellent.  First thing tomorrow, you and I will visit Bergman’s lawyer.”

“Mrs Anderson?”

“She can wait a little longer.  I want more information before I see her again.  she’s going to be the type who needs to be served with a fait accompli.”

© Charles Heath 2019-2023

The cinema of my dreams – Was it just another surveillance job – Episode 26

I’m back home and this story has been sitting on a back burner for a few months, waiting for some more to be written.

The trouble is, there are also other stories to write, and I’m not very good at prioritizing.

But, here we are, a few minutes opened up and it didn’t take long to get back into the groove.

Maury drops in for a search

 

I moved to the doorway and switched off the light, sending the room back into inky darkness.  Not good for the eyes, going bright light to instant dark.  We stood together behind the door as it opened inwards, Jan ready with her gun.

The door opened slowly, at the same time letting light in from the corridor, making it easier to see.

Opened fully, the visitor tentatively stepped into the room, and once the shape moved past the door, I slammed it shut and Jan lunged with the gun.  

I was not sure what result she was expecting but the person fought back, and as they turned to wrench the gun out of her hand, I let loose a punch, aiming for the head, and as hard as I could.  I head a cracking sound followed by a thump as the body hit the ground.

When I turned the light back on, there were two surprises.  The first, that I’d managed to knock someone out, and the second, Maury was back for a second look.

Why?

It didn’t matter.  He wasn’t going to be unconscious for very long.  Jan had some twine in her room, I wasn’t going to ask why, and she tied his hands and legs together, trussed almost like a turkey.

We left him on the floor when he’d fallen.  Unconscious, he was too heavy to move, or lift.

“Is this man Severin, Maury or Nobbin?” she asked.  She’d saved the questions until after he’d been neutralized, and we’d taken his gun off him.  Also, a knife.  She’d also look through his pockets to see if he carried any identification.  He didn’t, and I wouldn’t expect to find anything.  At the moment I was the same, and since I threw the phone’s sim card, I was now completely anonymous.

“Maury,” I said.

“The attack dog?”

“Not able to attack us at the moment, but yes.  I wonder why he came back?”

“We should ask him,” she said, “when he wakes up.”

We were sitting in the chairs, turned around to face Maury lying on the ground.  He had wriggled, and realizing he was tied up, tried harder to escape the bonds, and then relaxed when he realized he couldn’t.

His eyes turned to us, and it felt like a death stare.  

“This is a mistake,” he said.  “untie these ropes and I might make an exception for you.

“Why are you here?” I asked him.

“That’s none of your business.”

“But it is mine.  This is my flat, and you’re trespassing,” Jan said.

He switched his death gaze to her.

“I’m not here to cause trouble.”

“Then why are you here?”

“To ask you if your next-door neighbor left anything here with you to collect at a later date.”

No doubt with a menacing attitude, which would end in violence because Maury was not the sort to take no for an answer.

“Most people would knock on the door, and politely wait until it was answered.”

Most people.

“I was told there would be no one at home.”

“And it couldn’t wait until I returned?  I’m sorry, but you have broken into my flat and I’m going to call the police.”

He looked at me.

“That’s not a good idea.  Tell her, Jackson.”

“I don’t work for you, or Severin, anymore.  In fact, when I went back into the office, I got dragged aside and interrogated.  No one seems to know who you and Severin are.”

“That’s because our operation was on a need to know basis.  How do you think our business works?  Not by telling everyone what you’re doing.  Now untie me, and I’ll be on my way.”

“No,” Jan said.  “Not until you tell us exactly who you are and who you work for, and why you deemed it necessary to murder O’Connell.”

Maury looked at me again, and there was no mistaking the anger.

“You do understand what the Official Secrets Act means, don’t you Jackson?”

“More or less.  But it depends on who it is you speak to whether that’s relevant or not.”

Back to Jan.  

“Who are you, then?”

“As you keep pulling out of your hat, it’s on a need to know basis, and, of course, we just tell everyone what we’re doing either.  But one thing I’m sure of, we do not go around killing agents.  As far as I can tell, O’Connell was working for an agency, possibly yours but I don’t think so, and in the course of his investigation, he came across some valuable information.  Information, I’m told, you want.  What is it and why?”

“Are you serious?”

He shifted his glare back to me.

“Seriously Jackson, who is this person?”

“Someone, I fear, who is going to cause you a great deal of grief if you don’t answer her questions.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.  I don’t have to tall you or anyone else the nature of my business.”

I saw her shake her head.  “I take it, that’s a no.”  She shrugged and pulled out her phone and dialed a number.  “Always the hard way with you people.”

“Sir,” she said when the call was answered.  “I’ve got a character named Maury tied up in my flat.  Breaking and entering for starters.  Yes, I’ll be here.”

She put the phone back in her bag.  “They’ll be here in ten minutes.”

All we had to do was hope that Maury didn’t have a backup.

© Charles Heath 2020

An excerpt from “Sunday in New York”

Now available on Amazon at:  https://amzn.to/2H7ALs8

Williams’ Restaurant, East 65th Street, New York, Saturday, 8:00 p.m.

We met the Blaine’s at Williams’, a rather upmarket restaurant that the Blaine’s frequently visited, and had recommended.

Of course, during the taxi ride there, Alison reminded me that with my new job, we would be able to go to many more places like Williams’.  It was, at worst, more emotional blackmail, because as far as Alison was concerned, we were well on our way to posh restaurants, the Trump Tower Apartments, and the trappings of the ‘executive set’.

It would be a miracle if I didn’t strangle Elaine before the night was over.  It was she who had filled Alison’s head with all this stuff and nonsense.

Aside from the half frown half-smile, Alison was looking stunning.  It was months since she had last dressed up, and she was especially wearing the dress I’d bought her for our 5th anniversary that cost a month’s salary.  On her, it was worth it, and I would have paid more if I had to.  She had adored it, and me, for a week or so after.

For tonight, I think I was close to getting back on that pedestal.

She had the looks and figure to draw attention, the sort movie stars got on the red carpet, and when we walked into the restaurant, I swear there were at least five seconds silence, and many more gasps.

Even I had a sudden loss of breath earlier in the evening when she came out of the dressing room.  Once more I was reminded of how lucky I was that she had agreed to marry me.  Amid all those self-doubts, I couldn’t believe she had loved me when there were so many others ‘out there’ who were more appealing.

Elaine was out of her seat and came over just as the Head Waiter hovered into sight.  She personally escorted Alison to the table, allowing me to follow like the Queen’s consort, while she and Alison basked in the admiring glances of the other patrons.

More than once I heard the muted question, “Who is she?”

Jimmy stood, we shook hands, and then we sat together.  It was not the usual boy, girl, boy, girl seating arrangement.  Jimmy and I on one side and Elaine and Alison on the other.

The battle lines were drawn.

Jimmy was looking fashionable, with the permanent blade one beard, unkempt hair, and designer dinner suit that looked like he’d slept in it.  Alison insisted I wear a tuxedo, and I looked like the proverbial penguin or just a thinner version of Alfred Hitchcock.

The bow tie had been slightly crooked, but just before we stepped out she had straightened it.  And took the moment to look deeply into my soul.  It was one of those moments when words were not necessary.

Then it was gone.

I relived it briefly as I sat and she looked at me.  A penetrating look that told me to ‘behave’.

When we were settled, Elaine said, in that breathless, enthusiastic manner of hers when she was excited, “So, Harry, you are finally moving up.”  It was not a question, but a statement.

I was not sure what she meant by ‘finally’ but I accepted it with good grace.  Sometimes Elaine was prone to using figures of speech I didn’t understand.  I guessed she was talking about the new job.  “It was supposed to be a secret.”

She smiled widely.  “There are no secrets between Al and I, are there Al?”

I looked at ‘Al’ and saw a brief look of consternation.

I was not sure Alison liked the idea of being called Al.  I tried it once and was admonished.  But it was interesting her ‘best friend forever’ was allowed that distinction when I was not.  It was, perhaps, another indicator of how far I’d slipped in her estimation.

Perhaps, I thought, it was a necessary evil.  As I understood it, the Blaine’s were our mentors at the Trump Tower, because they didn’t just let ‘anyone’ in.  I didn’t ask if the Blaine’s thought we were just ‘anyone’ before I got the job offer.

And then there was that look between Alison and Elaine, quickly stolen before Alison realized I was looking at both of them.  I was out of my depth, in a place I didn’t belong, with people I didn’t understand.  And yet, apparently, Alison did.  I must have missed the memo.

“No,” Alison said softly, stealing a glance in my direction, “No secrets between friends.”

No secrets.  Her look conveyed something else entirely.

The waiter brought champagne, Krug, and poured glasses for each of us.  It was not the cheap stuff, and I was glad I brought a couple of thousand dollars with me.  We were going to need it.

Then, a toast.

To a new job and a new life.

“When did you decide?”  Elaine was effusive at the best of times, but with the champagne, it was worse.

Alison had a strange expression on her face.  It was obvious she had told Elaine it was a done deal, even before I’d made up my mind.  Perhaps she’d assumed I might be ‘refreshingly honest’ in front of Elaine, but it could also mean she didn’t really care what I might say or do.

Instead of consternation, she looked happy, and I realized it would be churlish, even silly if I made a scene.  I knew what I wanted to say.  I also knew that it would serve little purpose provoking Elaine, or upsetting Alison.  This was not the time or the place.  Alison had been looking forward to coming here, and I was not going to spoil it.

Instead, I said, smiling, “When I woke up this morning and found Alison missing.  If she had been there, I would not have noticed the water stain on the roof above our bed, and decide there and then how much I hated the place.” I used my reassuring smile, the one I used with the customers when all hell was breaking loose, and the forest fire was out of control.  “It’s the little things.  They all add up until one day …”  I shrugged.  “I guess that one day was today.”

I saw an incredulous look pass between Elaine and Alison, a non-verbal question; perhaps, is he for real?  Or; I told you he’d come around.

I had no idea the two were so close.

“How quaint,” Elaine said, which just about summed up her feelings towards me.  I think, at that moment, I lost some brownie points.  It was all I could come up with at short notice.

“Yes,” I added, with a little more emphasis than I wanted.  “Alison was off to get some study in with one of her friends.”

“Weren’t the two of you off to the Hamptons, a weekend with some friends?” Jimmy piped up, and immediately got the ‘shut up you fool’ look, that cut that line of conversation dead.  Someone forgot to feed Jimmy his lines.

It was followed by the condescending smile from Elaine, and “I need to powder my nose.  Care to join me, Al?”

A frown, then a forced smile for her new best friend.  “Yes.”

I watched them leave the table and head in the direction of the restroom, looking like they were in earnest conversation.  I thought ‘Al’ looked annoyed, but I could be wrong.

I had to say Jimmy looked more surprised than I did.

There was that odd moment of silence between us, Jimmy still smarting from his death stare, and for me, the Alison and Elaine show.  I was quite literally gob-smacked.

I drained my champagne glass gathering some courage and turned to him.  “By the way, we were going to have a weekend away, but this legal tutorial thing came up.  You know Alison is doing her law degree.”

He looked startled when he realized I had spoken.  He was looking intently at a woman several tables over from us, one who’d obviously forgotten some basic garments when getting dressed.  Or perhaps it was deliberate.  She’d definitely had some enhancements done.

He dragged his eyes back to me.  “Yes.  Elaine said something or other about it.  But I thought she said the tutor was out of town and it had been postponed until next week.  Perhaps I got it wrong.  I usually do.”

“Perhaps I’ve got it wrong.”  I shrugged, as the dark thoughts started swirling in my head again.  “This week or next, what does it matter?”

Of course, it mattered to me, and I digested what he said with a sinking heart.  It showed there was another problem between Alison and me; it was possible she was now telling me lies.  If what he said was true and I had no reason to doubt him, where was she going tomorrow morning, and had she really been with a friend studying today?

We poured some more champagne, had a drink, then he asked, “This promotion thing, what’s it worth?”

“Trouble, I suspect.  Definitely more money, but less time at home.”

“Oh,” raised eyebrows.  Obviously, the women had not talked about the job in front of him, or, at least, not all the details.  “You sure you want to do that?”

At last the voice of reason.  “Me?  No.”

“Yet you accepted the job.”

I sucked in a breath or two while I considered whether I could trust him.  Even if I couldn’t, I could see my ship was sinking, so it wouldn’t matter what I told him, or what Elaine might find out from him.  “Jimmy, between you and me I haven’t as yet decided one way or another.  To be honest, I won’t know until I go up to Barclay’s office and he asks me the question.”

“Barclay?”

“My boss.”

“Elaine’s doing a job for a Barclay that recently moved in the tower a block down from us.  I thought I recognized the name.”

“How did Elaine get the job?”

“Oh, Alison put him onto her.”

“When?”

“A couple of months ago.  Why?”

I shrugged and tried to keep a straight face, while my insides were churning up like the wake of a supertanker.  I felt sick, faint, and wanting to die all at the same moment.  “Perhaps she said something about it, but it didn’t connect at the time.  Too busy with work I expect.  I think I seriously need to get away for a while.”

I could hardly breathe, my throat was constricted and I knew I had to keep it together.  I could see Elaine and Alison coming back, so I had to calm down.  I sucked in some deep breaths, and put my ‘manage a complete and utter disaster’ look on my face.

And I had to change the subject, quickly, so I said, “Jimmy, Elaine told Alison, who told me, you were something of a guru of the cause and effects of the global economic meltdown.  Now, I have a couple of friends who have been expounding this theory …”

Like flicking a switch, I launched into the well-worn practice of ‘running a distraction’, like at work when we needed to keep the customer from discovering the truth.  It was one of the things I was good at, taking over a conversation and pushing it in a different direction.  It was salvaging a good result from an utter disaster, and if ever there was a time that it was required, it was right here, right now.

When Alison sat down and looked at me, she knew something had happened between Jimmy and I.  I might have looked pale or red-faced, or angry or disappointed, it didn’t matter.  If that didn’t seal the deal for her, the fact I took over the dining engagement did.  She knew well enough the only time I did that was when everything was about to go to hell in a handbasket.  She’d seen me in action before and had been suitably astonished.

But I got into gear, kept the champagne flowing and steered the conversation, as much as one could from a seasoned professional like Elaine, and, I think, in Jimmy’s eyes, he saw the battle lines and knew who took the crown on points.  Neither Elaine nor Jimmy suspected anything, and if the truth be told, I had improved my stocks with Elaine.  She was at times both surprised and interested, even willing to take a back seat.

Alison, on the other hand, tried poking around the edges, and, once when Elaine and Jimmy had got up to have a cigarette outside, questioned me directly.  I chose to ignore her, and pretend nothing had happened, instead of telling her how much I was enjoying the evening.

She had her ‘secrets’.  I had mine.

At the end of the evening, when I got up to go to the bathroom, I was physically sick from the pent up tension and the implications of what Jimmy had told me.  It took a while for me to pull myself together; so long, in fact, Jimmy came looking for me.  I told him I’d drunk too much champagne, and he seemed satisfied with that excuse.  When I returned, both Alison and Elaine noticed how pale I was but neither made any comment.

It was a sad way to end what was supposed to be a delightful evening, which to a large degree it was for the other three.  But I had achieved what I set out to do, and that was to play them at their own game, watching the deception, once I knew there was a deception, as warily as a cat watches its prey.

I had also discovered Jimmy’s real calling; a professor of economics at the same University Alison was doing her law degree.  It was no surprise in the end, on a night where surprises abounded, that the world could really be that small.

We parted in the early hours of the morning, a taxi whisking us back to the Lower East Side, another taking the Blaine’s back to the Upper West Side.  But, in our case, as Alison reminded me, it would not be for much longer.  She showed concern for my health, asked me what was wrong.  It took all the courage I could muster to tell her it was most likely something I ate and the champagne, and that I would be fine in the morning.

She could see quite plainly it was anything other than what I told her, but she didn’t pursue it.  Perhaps she just didn’t care what I was playing at.

And yet, after everything that had happened, once inside our ‘palace’, the events of the evening were discarded, like her clothing, and she again reminded me of what we had together in the early years before the problems had set in.

It left me confused and lost.

I couldn’t sleep because my mind had now gone down that irreversible path that told me I was losing her, that she had found someone else, and that our marriage was in its last death throes.

And now I knew it had something to do with Barclay.

© Charles Heath 2015-2020

Sunday In New York

In a word: Meat

We all know what meat is, the flesh of an animal like cattle, pigs, sheep, even goats.

It can be used to describe a pie, such as a meat pie, but the odd thing is that it doesn’t have to have 100% meat in it.

It can be used in the context of humans, depending on when you eat certain types of food that will put meat on your bones.

Meat can also be used to describe the fleshy part of nuts, fruit, or eggs.

Then there’s the meat of the matter, which is the crux or basis of the argument or message you want to get across.

And a rather interesting if not obscure meaning is to describe a favorite occupation or activity.

Another form of the word is meet; what we do at a coffee shop, on a date, at a pub, or any number of different places.

We can gather together for a meeting, such as a board of directors or a committee.

It can be used to describe an athletic or swimming carnival.

How about you meet me halfway, in a negotiation, not on a long road trip

To dole out or allot something like punishment, is to mete it out.

Good thing then, we don’t live in the dark ages, all manner of bad punishments were meted put to the serfs.

The cinema of my dreams – It continued in London – Episode 38

It was the orange ribbon

“It’s the orange ribbon, isn’t it,” Cecilia said.  “I thought it looked good with the yellow floral summer dress and the fake fur coat.”

I had thought Juliet was just shocked to see Cecelia again with me, that we were possibly having a relationship.  It was something else.

Cecelia looked at me.  “Alfie said Vittoria called Juliet while you were texting me, a bit like ships passing in the night, to tell her she was on her way, and this idiot woman in a fur coat and orange ribbon had almost knocked her off the sidewalk.  I mean, really, people buried in their phones should be knocked off the sidewalk.”

We both looked at Juliet.  I could see she was thinking fast on her feet, then smile at Cecelia, and say, “Wow!  What can I say?  How’s your acting career going?”

“Good actually.  I got a part as a mercenary.  Just need to do the training and figure out how I’m going to survive the Moroccan sun, I mean, with this skin?”

There were two slices of pizza.  “Do you mind,” Cecilia said, “I shouldn’t but it’s been one of those days.”

Juliet nodded.

“Now, Juliet, do you want to revise any answers?”

“Who are you really?  The two of you?”

“We find people.  Or I used to until Larry came after me, and then my boss decided I couldn’t retire, or maybe it was his wife this time.  She’s a good chum of the countess.  It seems if I found her, I can finally go back to my well-earned retirement.  So, one question, did your mother, Vittoria Romano, kidnap her?”

“No.”

No hesitation.  Interesting.

“She is up in your apartment at the moment?”

Juliet looked at Cecilia, reaching for the second slice.

“Yes.”

“How long have you known about her?”

“About three months.  She found me.  I didn’t believe it at first, but apparently, she had to wait until my adoptive mother died before she could see me in person.  It was the agreement they made.  By the way, she shared the money the count paid her for my upkeep and to go to medical school.”

“So, you are his daughter?”

“She showed me the birth certificate.  It has his name on it.  No one was ever supposed to know.”

“Until the money stopped.  Who did she go to?”

“The countess.  My mother had nothing to do with her disappearance.  You should be looking at the family, that Alessandro is a criminal, the whole family are.”

“They’re bankers,” Cecilia said.  “Is there a difference?”

“OK.  If she is not guilty of anything, then she will have no trouble talking to us?”

“I can ask?”

“No.  Not until we’re on the doorstep.  You may think she’s not guilty because she told you so, but unfortunately, I don’t have that luxury.  And you know me well enough to know that I keep an open mind about everything.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“You do.  But if we let you go and we find out you’ve lied to us, then we’ll hunt you down, no matter where you are, and we will not be as nice as we are now.”  The way Cecelia said it, it sounded like she relished hunting down criminals and liars.  The words were accompanied by a very mean look.

“Can we finish dinner first?”

“Of course.  I was looking forward to having some tiramisu.”

Cecelia was in a role.  She smiled.  I was glad she wouldn’t be hunting me.

Another small pizza, tiramisu, red wine, coffee and conversation, from the outside could be construed as three friends meeting up and having a leisurely dinner and reminiscing.

Cecelia was genuinely interested in car accident victims, to help her in her auditions, and Juliet was genuinely interested in the movie business.  I was fascinated watching the two women together, wondering if Juliet thought there was something between us.

Back in Venice, that was the impression she was giving Juliet.  Here, I got the occasional glance, and a touch on the hand, the sort of touchy-feely things a girlfriend might do.  I hadn’t thought of her a lot since Venice, but she hadn’t completely disappeared.

By the time we left, most of the other customers had gone, and the staff were cleaning up.  I paid the bill and said I would be back.  Those pizzas were to die for.  We had ordered another just before leaving, to take back for her mother.

If she was there.

Cecelia had gone ahead to make sure there wasn’t an ambush waiting for us, and when we reached the door of her apartment, she was waiting in the shadows.

Juliet got out her key and opened the door, and after opening it, yelled out “I’m home.”  Then she went in, and I followed.

There were two guns pointed at me as I stepped into the room, Vittoria was pointing one at me, and the countess was pointing the other at Cecelia.

© Charles Heath 2023

Motive, means, and opportunity – Episode 8

A deep dive into Bergman’s Timeline

Bryson rubbed his eyes and leaned back in his chair.  This was going to be a day that never ended.  For some, the day ended while the sun was still shining, for others, they might as well be vampires.

There were so many potential suspects in the Bergman case, it was rapidly become a case of where to start.

The medical examiner’s report was sitting on his desk when he got back, and it didn’t say much more than he already knew other than the time of death had moved to a more specific window of between 10:30 and 11:00 pm.  It might be a little later, but the cold weather played havoc with the body.

But the time fitted the fact he had a meeting at 10pm, according to Wendy Anderson.  Who was he meeting, and how had it been set up, and why in the car park of the Brooklyn Zoo?  The broken CCTV camera could not be the only reason.

Still determined to be a close shot, through the window of the car, fragments of glass were found in the wound.  Death was instantaneous, a blessing perhaps.  He was in the driver’s seat, keys in hand, so he was preparing to get out.

The weapon could be a Glock 19, and 9mm ammunition.  One bullet was all it took to kill him.  Up close and personal, it was most likely the shooter someone he knew.

So Bergman’s timeline so far looked like this:

09:00 Bergman comes in for a half hour and then leaves

12:00 or thereabouts, pick up a rental car from Atlantic Avenue Brooklyn

Home perhaps in Jamaica?

19:03 Calls Wendy as he is leaving his residence, on his way to James Anderson’s

On average takes 45 minutes to drive from Jamaica to Prospect Park Zoo a few minutes more to Anderson’s

20:30 Bergman arrives at James Anderson’s

21:05 Text message from Bergman to Wendy after leaving Anderson’s.

22:30 Approx, Bergman murdered in carpark

Then the questions:

Why did Bergman rent the car in the name of Megarry?  Was it because he used that name to pick up women, and had he arranged a liaison?  They wouldn’t be the first people to drive to a certain spot, meet, one leaves their car, and they go off to someplace else.

Who was Bergman meeting and how had the meeting been arranged?  The second phone?  The search would have to be widened to near the carpark, though the chances of finding it discarded were little to none.

They would now need the phone records of Wendy Anderson, James Anderson, Stacy Bergman, and Richard Hollingsworth.

More was needed on the relationship between brother and sister Hollingsworth.  Both could want him dead for various reasons.

That was as far as the scribbled notes got when Worthey walked in.  He looked tired and jaded.

“I’m sure the world is mostly populated by assholes,” he said, throwing himself into his chair.

“And this assumption has been caused by?”

“Hotel concierge.  They see everything, know everyone, and yet are happy to cite confidentiality ad their credo when it suits them.  If I offered them a few hundred dollar notes they’d sing like canaries.”

“We don’t have that kind of money.”

“But Stacy Bergman does, or at least her team of PI’s.  He’s had six different women he’s taken to dinner in the last month, and the favourite, Wendy Anderson.  And a week ago they had a very loud bust up in the restaurant.  She stormed out, they haven’t been back since.  Her that is, not him.  He was back two nights later with another woman.”

“How did you come by this tidbit?”

“One of the front counter staff took pity on me.  She didn’t like the concierge, reckons he’s a little handy, so the price of information was to warn him about being more circumspect around the female staff.”

“So, all was not well in paradise.  Probably the photos and veiled threats.”

“A viable suspect, too.”

Worthey looked up at the whiteboard Bryson had been writing on.  “OK, I came up with this brainstorm, that the rental should have a GPS, so I went to the rental office and, success.  We know where the car was from the moment, he picked it up until the moment he parked at the Zoo,”

He pulled out his notebook.

“Left the rental office at 12:08 pm.  Arrived at 84th Avenue Jamaica at 12:43, with one-stop, presumably a gas station, I checked the coordinates.  Left Jamaica at 19:23, stops to get takeaway at 19:40, leaves there at 20:04, and arrives at Anderson’s at 20:43.  He’s there until 20:58, then leaves, drives to the Zoo Car Park arriving there at 21:21.  He doesn’t take the direct route, he just seems to be driving in circles, killing time.”

“Good.  Fill in the timeline to reflect those times.  Then check his phone records for calls, in or out for the time he was home, the time he was getting takeout, and the time after he left Anderson’s.  Any word on the CCTV camera between Anderson and the Zoo?”

“Not yet.  There doesn’t appear to be anyone home.  I’m in the process of finding who lives there so I can track them down.”

“Excellent.  First thing tomorrow, you and I will visit Bergman’s lawyer.”

“Mrs Anderson?”

“She can wait a little longer.  I want more information before I see her again.  she’s going to be the type who needs to be served with a fait accompli.”

© Charles Heath 2019-2023

The cinema of my dreams – Was it just another surveillance job – Episode 26

I’m back home and this story has been sitting on a back burner for a few months, waiting for some more to be written.

The trouble is, there are also other stories to write, and I’m not very good at prioritizing.

But, here we are, a few minutes opened up and it didn’t take long to get back into the groove.

Maury drops in for a search

 

I moved to the doorway and switched off the light, sending the room back into inky darkness.  Not good for the eyes, going bright light to instant dark.  We stood together behind the door as it opened inwards, Jan ready with her gun.

The door opened slowly, at the same time letting light in from the corridor, making it easier to see.

Opened fully, the visitor tentatively stepped into the room, and once the shape moved past the door, I slammed it shut and Jan lunged with the gun.  

I was not sure what result she was expecting but the person fought back, and as they turned to wrench the gun out of her hand, I let loose a punch, aiming for the head, and as hard as I could.  I head a cracking sound followed by a thump as the body hit the ground.

When I turned the light back on, there were two surprises.  The first, that I’d managed to knock someone out, and the second, Maury was back for a second look.

Why?

It didn’t matter.  He wasn’t going to be unconscious for very long.  Jan had some twine in her room, I wasn’t going to ask why, and she tied his hands and legs together, trussed almost like a turkey.

We left him on the floor when he’d fallen.  Unconscious, he was too heavy to move, or lift.

“Is this man Severin, Maury or Nobbin?” she asked.  She’d saved the questions until after he’d been neutralized, and we’d taken his gun off him.  Also, a knife.  She’d also look through his pockets to see if he carried any identification.  He didn’t, and I wouldn’t expect to find anything.  At the moment I was the same, and since I threw the phone’s sim card, I was now completely anonymous.

“Maury,” I said.

“The attack dog?”

“Not able to attack us at the moment, but yes.  I wonder why he came back?”

“We should ask him,” she said, “when he wakes up.”

We were sitting in the chairs, turned around to face Maury lying on the ground.  He had wriggled, and realizing he was tied up, tried harder to escape the bonds, and then relaxed when he realized he couldn’t.

His eyes turned to us, and it felt like a death stare.  

“This is a mistake,” he said.  “untie these ropes and I might make an exception for you.

“Why are you here?” I asked him.

“That’s none of your business.”

“But it is mine.  This is my flat, and you’re trespassing,” Jan said.

He switched his death gaze to her.

“I’m not here to cause trouble.”

“Then why are you here?”

“To ask you if your next-door neighbor left anything here with you to collect at a later date.”

No doubt with a menacing attitude, which would end in violence because Maury was not the sort to take no for an answer.

“Most people would knock on the door, and politely wait until it was answered.”

Most people.

“I was told there would be no one at home.”

“And it couldn’t wait until I returned?  I’m sorry, but you have broken into my flat and I’m going to call the police.”

He looked at me.

“That’s not a good idea.  Tell her, Jackson.”

“I don’t work for you, or Severin, anymore.  In fact, when I went back into the office, I got dragged aside and interrogated.  No one seems to know who you and Severin are.”

“That’s because our operation was on a need to know basis.  How do you think our business works?  Not by telling everyone what you’re doing.  Now untie me, and I’ll be on my way.”

“No,” Jan said.  “Not until you tell us exactly who you are and who you work for, and why you deemed it necessary to murder O’Connell.”

Maury looked at me again, and there was no mistaking the anger.

“You do understand what the Official Secrets Act means, don’t you Jackson?”

“More or less.  But it depends on who it is you speak to whether that’s relevant or not.”

Back to Jan.  

“Who are you, then?”

“As you keep pulling out of your hat, it’s on a need to know basis, and, of course, we just tell everyone what we’re doing either.  But one thing I’m sure of, we do not go around killing agents.  As far as I can tell, O’Connell was working for an agency, possibly yours but I don’t think so, and in the course of his investigation, he came across some valuable information.  Information, I’m told, you want.  What is it and why?”

“Are you serious?”

He shifted his glare back to me.

“Seriously Jackson, who is this person?”

“Someone, I fear, who is going to cause you a great deal of grief if you don’t answer her questions.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.  I don’t have to tall you or anyone else the nature of my business.”

I saw her shake her head.  “I take it, that’s a no.”  She shrugged and pulled out her phone and dialed a number.  “Always the hard way with you people.”

“Sir,” she said when the call was answered.  “I’ve got a character named Maury tied up in my flat.  Breaking and entering for starters.  Yes, I’ll be here.”

She put the phone back in her bag.  “They’ll be here in ten minutes.”

All we had to do was hope that Maury didn’t have a backup.

© Charles Heath 2020

In a word: needle

In the current times, the word needle is very polarising.

Will you have the vaccine, or not.  Is one of the reasons simply because you hate needles?

I know I do and have a fear factor of 100%.  Fortunately, I got very sick a few years ago and spent 10 days in the hospital, and was forced to have multiple needles every day.

Now it’s not so hard

But, I digress.

A needle is one of those things used in the medical profession mainly to deliver vaccines and medicine.  It is a very small cylinder.

A needle can be used to sew up a garment or make repairs.  This is a smallish piece of metal with an eyelet.

A needle can also be used to stitch up wounds, though it’s best you have a local anesthetic first.

Another way of using needles is to describe tiny icicles which hurt when they hit your face or your eyes.  It is called a needle effect.

Then, another use of the word, is to needle someone, that is to say, bombard them with questions, or annoy them.

It’s a pointer on a dial, like that of a fuel gauge, which for me, always seems to hover just above empty.  It can also be on a compass, where heading north is not always clear especially where magnets are nearby.

A fir tree’s leaves are more like needles.

You need one to play a record on a gramophone, not that they exist anymore.

Paradoxically it can also be used to describe a pointy rock or an obelisk-like “Cleopatra’s Needle”

It is also an etching tool.

‘The Devil You Don’t’ – A beta reader’s view

It could be said that of all the women one could meet, whether contrived or by sheer luck, what are the odds it would turn out to be the woman who was being paid a very large sum to kill you.

John Pennington is a man who may be lucky in business, but not so lucky in love. He has just broken up with Phillipa Sternhaven, the woman he thought was the one, but relatives and circumstances, and perhaps because she was a ‘princess’, may also have contributed to the end result.

So, what do you do when you are heartbroken?

That is a story that slowly unfolds, from the first meeting with his nemesis on Lake Geneva, all the way to a hotel room in Sorrento, where he learns the shattering truth.

What should have been solace after disappointment, turns out to be something else entirely, and from that point, everything goes to hell in a handbasket.

He suddenly realizes his so-called friend Sebastian has not exactly told him the truth about a small job he asked him to do, the woman he is falling in love with is not quite who she says she is, and he is caught in the middle of a war between two men who consider people becoming collateral damage as part of their business.

The story paints the characters cleverly displaying all their flaws and weaknesses. The locations add to the story at times taking me back down memory lane, especially to Venice where, in those back streets I confess it’s not all that hard to get lost.

All in all a thoroughly entertaining story with, for once, a satisfying end.

Available on Amazon here: https://amzn.to/2Xyh1ow