Accidents Waiting to Happen (36 page)

The professional bent over his competitor and removed all identification from his pockets.
 
He found the detective’s shield for a New York City cop called Jenks.
 
“Josh, you should look more carefully when you talk to strangers.
 
Didn’t your mother teach you anything?”
 
He pocketed the items and the 9mm Henderson had been holding.

The professional looked over at the Malibu.
 
Michaels’ prints would be all over it.
 
It would do him no good if his target were picked up in connection with this mess.
 
Even if Dexter Tyrell had tried to shaft him he still had a job to do and he would do it.
 
Josh Michaels and Margaret Macey would die, as would Tyrell himself.
 
It was a matter of principle.

His opposition had done one good thing.
 
The location was perfect.
 
It was secluded.
 
No one was watching and no one had heard.
 
He went to the Taurus, removed a can of gasoline and splashed it over and inside the car.
 
With a handkerchief he removed the gas cap, then soaked the handkerchief in gas and shoved it in the car’s filler nozzle.
 
He ran a trail of gas from the car to the dead killer’s body and dumped the remaining gasoline over the corpse.
 
He packed up the Ford, started it, turned it around and stopped a suitable distance from the Chevy.
 
Leaving the car running, he got out and produced a matchbook from his pocket.
 
He lit a match and set light to the matchbook.
 
It flared, then he dropped it onto the dead hit man’s body.
 

Henderson’s corpse erupted into flames and immediately ignited the trail of fuel.
 
The flame leapt up the side of the car and spread out across its surface like spilt milk.
 
Within seconds, the fire took hold of the car and smoke lifted from all quarters of the vehicle.

The professional ran back to his car.
 
He checked the progress of the fire and once suitably satisfied he drove off.
 
He was more than a block away when he heard the muffled explosion.

Josh Michaels had gone, but that didn’t matter.
 
His fate was sealed.
 
This inconvenience had only hastened his demise.

Chapter Twenty-four

Eventually, Josh encountered civilization.
 
He traversed a straight line from the derelict buildings and ended up on Broadway.
 
Lively businesses, traffic, and living, breathing people populated Broadway.
 
Relief flooded over him and his heart slowed to a normal pace.
 
He was safe.
 
He was amongst witnesses, lots of them, too many of them for one killer to eradicate.
 
He was out of no man’s land and on the right side of enemy lines.
 
He needed more safety, he needed home.
 
He knew the killer could be heading there right now, but where else could he go?

He spotted the bus stop opposite the Tower Theater.
 
The bus was a good, safe means of transport that would get him home in one piece.
 
Mitchell couldn’t do anything to him on a bus.
 
He knew his assassin couldn’t afford to make such a brazen attempt.
 
A bus was as good as a tank, impregnable.
 
Josh jogged over to the bus stop.

After several moments of sitting on the bench, vulnerability struck him across the face with an open hand.
 
He realized sitting at the bus stop wasn’t such a good idea.
 
What if his killer spotted him on the bench?
 
He might take a chance with a drive-by shooting.
 
Josh had no idea when the bus was coming.
 
It could be in ten minutes…thirty…an hour.
 
He never used them regularly.
 
He was a sitting duck waiting to be picked off.
 
Nervously, he crossed the road and ducked inside the bookshop.

He flicked through paperbacks, magazines and newspapers never once looking at the printed pages, but instead out of the window at the vacant bus stop.
 
Staff and customers viewed Josh with interest, but never once challenged his performance.
 
A giggle from behind jolted him from his surveillance.
 
Realizing he was a spectacle, he placed the book back on the shelf and left.

The theater foyer offered some protection from spying eyes.
 
After some negotiation to get inside the cinema without a ticket, he bought a soda from the theater.
 
Leaning against a poster for coming attractions, he sucked on the soda’s straw.

A pneumatic hiss drew Josh’s attention to the mobile billboard slowing to take the corner.
 
Emerging from the foyer’s darkened mouth, he jogged over to the bus stop, ditching the half-drunk soda in the trash as he went.
 
The bus stopped for him.
 
It felt good climbing the three steps into the welcoming arms of Regional Transit.
 

Josh paid three dollars for the ride home, seventy-five cents over the top.
 
“Correct change only” the black and white notice pointed out.
 
Josh didn’t care.
 
He paid the money gladly.
 
He took a seat next to a teenage girl just out of high school with a ring through her nose.
 
She had a Virgin employee’s nametag pinned to her chest.
 
He sat, relaxed and exhaled loudly.
 
She looked at him, as did several other rush hour passengers on the three-quarter full bus.

“Hard day at work.”
 
Josh explained to the girl.

“Everyday.”
 
The girl from Virgin dismissed Josh and stared out the window.

The doors rattled shut.
 
The air brakes wheezed and the bus eased into traffic.

***

From the end of the road, Josh took the opportunity to scope out his street.
 
The vapor lights shone down on his car and Kate’s minivan.
 
The lights were on in the house and there was no sign of the white Ford he’d seen tossing Jenks’ body like a rag doll.
 
He recognized the cars parked in the street and driveways, so he started to walk.
 
Someone could have staked out his neighborhood, but if they had, he’d missed the signs.
 
Although it seemed obvious his street and home were safe, he’d learned not to believe his instincts.
 
With shaking hands, he opened the front door to his home.

He found the hall was neither packed with cops waiting to gun him down nor James Mitchell wielding a knife at Kate and Abby’s throats.
 
Reassured, he ventured further inside his house.
 
His wife and child sat in front of the television.

“Josh, where have you been?”
 
Concern and annoyance were evident in Kate’s voice.
 
“Your car was parked outside.”

“I want to check something,” he said, interrupting her.

He snatched up the remote control from Abby’s hand and started channel hopping.

“Dad,” Abby whined.

“Josh, I asked you a question.”
 
The irritation dissolved as Kate noticed his disheveled state.
 
“What happened to you?
 
You look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.”

Josh ignored her and continued channel hopping.
 
He found what he was looking for, the news.
 
Slowly, Josh backed up and sat on the arm of the chair next to Abby.

Kate started to complain, but Josh shushed her.
 
“Give me a minute and I’ll explain.”

The television screen showed a cordoned police scene with police and fire services present.
 
Spotlights illuminated the area.
 
In the background, the burnt out carcass of a car lay slumped on melted tires.
 
A screen shielded the television cameras from what Josh knew to be the dead body of Tom Jenks.
 
The field reporter with suitably furrowed brow spoke.

“To recap…the police have found the body of a dead man next to this charred Chevy Malibu.”
 
The reporter motioned with a hand in the direction of the wreck.
 
“The man has no identification, was shot twice in the face and burned.
 
Police, as yet, have no witnesses to the grizzly murder and appeal to witnesses to come forward.
 
Initial indications lead the authorities to believe this killing may be a drug deal gone bad…”

“Kate, come with me,” Josh said.

“Okay.”
 
She saw the fear in Josh’s eyes and the contagion contaminated hers.

“There you go sweetie.”
 
Josh gave Abby the remote control.
 
“We’ll be back in a minute.”

Josh led Kate by the hand towards the stairs, but their daughter halted their progress.

“Daddy, why don’t you tell me what is happening?”

Josh returned to his daughter side and knelt by her so that he was eye to eye.
 
“Daddy is having some big problems he’s trying to get through.
 
You know sometimes you struggle with math problems and you scratch your head for a while before you get it?”

Abby nodded.

“Well, daddy has a whole big bunch of them,” gesturing with his hands out wide like a fisherman telling a tale, “and it’s going to take me a long time before I can work them all out.
 
But I promise, when I’ve got it all sorted out, I’ll tell you all about it.”
 
Josh put a finger to her nose.
 
“Is that okay?
 
Can you wait for a little while?”

Abby nodded vigorously and gave him a hug.

“Thank you, honey.
 
You can watch your cartoons now.”

Josh returned to Kate and took her up to their bedroom.
 
He sat her on the bed and knelt in front of her holding her hands in his.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Kate asked.

He took a deep breath.
 
“If I knew I would tell you, but I don’t understand it all myself.”

“But what
do
you know?”

“I went to the office and Mike Behan wanted to see me.”
 
Josh hesitated.
 
“They’ve suspended me, indefinitely.”

“Why?”

“Because of the Dixon apartments bribe.
 
They can’t have an employee suspected of bribery in such a sensitive position.”
 
Josh frowned in apology.

“The bastards.
 
Is this suspension paid?”

“Until an arrest is made.
 
Then they cut me loose.
 
But I think it’ll be all over by then.”

“How can you say that?”

“Trust me, it will.”

“But that doesn’t explain your condition.”

At that moment, Josh realized how badly he smelled.
 
Briefly, he thought of the girl on the bus and what she must have endured sitting next to him.
 
He caught a glimpse of himself in the closet mirror.
 
It wasn’t a pretty sight.
 
Jenks and his foiled assassination attempt quickly obliterated the images of the nose ring girl.

“I think someone wants me dead.”
 
Kate challenged his wild accusation, but he knocked her protests aside.
 
“Listen, I came home from work and I was picked up by some guy called Tom Jenks who said he was a cop.”

Kate looked puzzled.
 
“Who
said
he was a cop?”

“Yeah, he said he needed me to go with him and I did.
 
After a few minutes, I realized he wasn’t—the car, his manner, lots of things didn’t ring true.
 
When I tried to get away, he pulled a gun and told me I was worth money to someone, but only if I was dead.
 
He took me to the old factories over by the rail lines.”

Kate slapped a hand over her mouth.
 
“That was him, wasn’t it?
 
The murdered man on the news.
 
You killed him?”