Ded Reckoning (13 page)

"I need to rephrase that.  I don't know how to take you at times."

"You can take me anytime.  Anyway.  Any place.  Just take me."

"God dammit. That's not goin' to happen, Dee.  Something is out of whack here.  We're working together 'cause I have to.  Ordered.  Just partners.  Remember that."  He pauses, "Ya see, your plan is to 'Do', and mine is 'Do Not', so there's not going to be any trying."

Dee smiles and raises both her arms into the relative breeze above the windshield and in her low contralto voice murmurs into the deflected stream of air, "There will.  Is only a matter of time."  Sighs. "Tonight would be good."

"What was that?"

"I said, when something is out of whack?  What's a whack?"

Hunter removes one hand from the wheel as they near the Ferry landing.  He rubs his cheek.  Looks at Dee, "You gave me two of them."

She says, "There's a car following us."

"I know.  I see it.  If it gets on the ferry with us, I'll handle it."

 

CHAPTER 9
 

 

"Be polite.  Be professional.

Be prepared to kill everyone you meet."

A gunfighter's rule

 

Hunter says, "Stay here.  Watch the mirror.  And remember the three B's."

"I will."  Dee reaches into her purse and pulls out her S&W .38 snub nose which is not a stopper nor that accurate unless breath-smelling close.

Hunter snarls, "Cute," as he slides out of the car, stands looking five cars back while tucking his shirttails in so it's easy to get to his M39.  He sees the shadow of the driver move and the man eases out of his car.  As Hunter approaches the shadowy person, he sees that the man has his hands out in front where Hunter can see them.  The man understands the rules.  In another step as he closes, Hunter sees the man's face and the teeth of a wide smile.  It's Gene Bradovich.  

Hunter releases his grip on the M39 in his back belt line and shakes hands with Bradovich.  The detective looks and points with his head towards Hunter's Vette and says, "Ol' buddy, why is bra singular and panties plural?"  Both start laughing.

"Brad, I haven't heard that pathetic question since you asked that Navy nurse at the Hong Kong Hilton when we were on R&R.  Remember what she said?"

"Yeah.  She called me a supercilious, snide asshole.  I told her I wasn't silly but was super."

"Yeah, you did but she didn't mean what she said.  She was just upset that you wouldn't give her a tumble."

"No.  That you didn't."

"Yeah, well, something like that.  What's up?  Why the tail?"

"Just watchin' your six for a time."  He shrugs, then, "Talked to the SAC man today.  He says they don't have a make on this guy.  Don't have anything back yet and that Oboe is a ghost."

"Well, Brad, my friend.  I appreciate your concern, but I've got a handle on things.  The bomber wasn't after me.  It's of no concern to me other than he killed a friend.  And ..."

"And a good lookin' one, too."  Bradovich lowers and shakes his head, mumbles, "I've seen her before.  Knew of her.  Nice gal.  Married to a Marine Lieutenant once upon a time.  He was killed in Nam."  Then Bradovich's head comes up, and he says, "As always you seem to be surrounded by 'em," nodding toward the Vette.

"Well, this one is my Property Manager and my assistant.  She will be helping me become an author.  Good editor and solid researcher.  Besides, I never mess with the help."

"Her husband was a good guy.  Knew him strangely enough.  Just upped and disappeared on liberty one night in Hong Kong of all places.  Funny matter is that the Navy CID guy was on to something.  Thought possibly it wasn't just a disappearance.  But, suddenly it all got scraped.  Strange.  And now, here she is ... on you like a flea on a dog.  Anyway, he would have liked you."

"He did.  I met him once.  What is this other shit you were goin' on about?"

"Just what I said, Skipper.  Just what I said.  Remember, if it smells like shit, it probably is.  The whole business with her husband smelled bad.  Her too."

"Brad, I believe I got the message.  And he was a good guy, and possibly a little too tough just to vanish.  I'll remember that.  And ol' buddy, you remember.  This isn't my first patrol nor ambush."

Gene shoves his hands in his pockets, drops his head momentarily, then it comes back up and he says, "Okay, Lima Six Actual.  I read you loud and clear.  But I've got your back and if you need something, call."  He pats Hunter on the shoulder.  "Oh, by the way, your home phone is tapped.  Feds.  Better check both. You guys always have another.  And hers, too.   And I see you cut the crime scene tape.  Put it back if you leave so folks will know you're a law abiding citizen and not a revengeful, obstinate old lion on the prowl."

"Well, I am, but not old.  And both what?"

"Phone lines, Skipper.  This is ole' Lima One Actual.  Remember?  Your ever lovin', loyal platoon commander. Followed you into the Vill's more than once.  Been to the dance before.  Just watch yourself, and if you need something, anything, call me and we'll get somewhere we can talk without echoes.  Semper Fi."  Bradovich feigns a punch to Hunter's gut and slides back into his own car.

Hunter doesn't flinch.  He doesn't take feints. As a rule hammers first.  He slaps the roof of Bradovich's car.  Bends down to the rolled down window and says smiling, "Roger.  Out."  And strides away to the Vette as the ferry is about to dock on the San Diego side.  Gets in the car and says to Dee, "Old friend.  Good to have."

"Yeah, so am I."

Hunter shakes his head, "You never give up, do you?"

"Nope.  You might as well though."  She leans over and pecks him on the cheek.  "That's just to make your ole' buddy back there groan and be in a little pain for the remainder of the evening if he thinks what I'm thinking."  She settles back in her seat with a giggle as they bump and clump off the ferry onto the landing.  She adds, "You owe me at least two."

"Two what?"

"I've made two moves, so I deserve two in return."

"Okay, a brandy and the Jacuzzi makes two."

"It's one, but it's a start.  It's a start."

The Vette leaps forward, screeching and skidding sideways just a bit as Hunter turns and accelerates onto Harbor Drive.

 

 

Rocco and Adrianna spend the early evening in the Grand Hotel Duomo's restaurant.  The seafood here is splendid and Rocco's only complaint is that perhaps it is not as good as what he can wrestle up at home, more accurately Pisces' home.  Adrianna is not diminutive, but in comparison to the hulk of Rocco DeStefano she appears so.  She has frosted her hair, highlighting its natural dark brunette flavor.  And she is shapely, with slender legs appearing more contoured in her spiked heels; sleepy eyed and moves smoothly and easily like a leopard on a nightly stroll.  Rocco is simply huge and thick, neck to ankles with powerful looking hands, but he too moves with the grace of one of the great cats.

After dinner the two adjourn to the bar.  He for his
Amaro Fernet Branca
.  Good for the digestion and some say medicinal.  It got its fame in Milan more than a hundred years ago by its producer, Bernardino Branca.  Pisces, although a brandy drinker, introduced Rocco to this treat.  Adrianna on the other hand has more simple tastes.  Although she enjoys her Sambuco in late afternoon, she prefers
Amaretto di Saronno
in the evenings after dinner.  To her it is like Sambuco but with less alcohol.  This is important because she will be expected to be active and attentive this evening.  To be not so is not good with Rocco.  His behavior can be his behavior; hers is to be as expected or better.  Between sips and fresh drinks they dance.  The tiger and the leopard.  Moving smoothly and easily but the striped cat looking dangerous as his eyes continue to prowl, to search.

At no time during the meal, or now, does Rocco bring up Antonio's name.  He cares, is interested, but he will discover what he needs to know about locating Antonio Rizzo tomorrow or the next day, or the next.  Then he will visit with the man.  No need to hurry this task.  Patience is a pleasure of the hunt, as the kill is the pleasure of persistence.  Tonight is for himself, and Adrianna.  Tomorrow for Carmen and his family, and Pisces.  Then perhaps a few more days with Adrianna, then Rizzo and his loose tongue.  Besides, Rocco's apparent leisurely visit will cause Antonio to worry more, then when nothing happens, become curious.  Then careless.

Adrianna stares at Rocco after this last dance set.  She finally gets his attention after enduring the minutes of his wandering mind.  It was his mind, not his prowling eyes.  She had glanced around, and there is no competition in this old hotel bar tonight.  When their eyes connect she says in her native language, "Rocco, the hole in my heart needs mending.  Let's tend to it before the band leader and surgeon Branca tires of their favorite patient, yes?"

"Ah, yes, because Rocco DeStefano may tire of Branca and the music, but never of Adrianna.  And I remind you, my love, it is always you that begs for breathing space."

She leans forward, nibbles his ear.  "Not this night."  Then whispers,
"Ti amo."
 

He smiles, shakes his head slowly and in a whisper in his native language and accent, "I believe I too love you.  And now may be the time in our lives to enjoy that, and life."

She replies, "Good.  Wonderful."  

As they stroll out of the bar, into the reception area and towards his room, they do not see the straining eyes watching from the darkness in the far corner of the lobby, away from all activity.

 

 

To the delight of Gina, Roberto Catalano has decided to spend the evening, and the next several days on his 98' Fratelli Benetti inanimate toy, the
Sorridenta.
With an aft sun deck. Its sun deck will keep Gina occupied for at least some of the time.  In addition it has deck space for fishing or diving.  It's the fishing that attracts Pisces, at least during the times he is recuperating from time with his animated toys, such as Gina now.  She is insatiable.  And like her, the fresh caught fish make wonderfully tasty and fulfilling meals.

They leave after dark to minimize observation.  Not that it would draw much attention, but little is good, none, better.  He takes the
Sorridenta
out himself, then once in deep water allows his crew chief to take the helm and the crew member chef to prepare and serve dinner.  They cruise for a time after dinner, then anchor up for the night.  There is always one armed crew member awake at all times on watch.  And all the crew know better than to ogle Gina for the consequences are grave.  And that is not a play on words as one crewman discovered when Anna was aboard some time ago.

After dinner Roberto and Gina sit on the aft sundeck.  Catalano has one of his specially ordered
Joya De Nicaragua
cigars and his brandy.  Gina sits at his side.  Quiet.  Staring at her man now, running her finger up his arm, across his cheek.  Nibbling at his ear and neck on occasion as he takes in those effortless draws.  She samples his cigar at his prompting, and she does it in an evocative manner.  Her life has changed.  For how long is always a question when around Pisces, perhaps not around Roberto Catalano.  But then, when is Pisces present and when Roberto Catalano.  To live is to know.

Gina squirms in her chaise lounge and nibbles on his ear again, breathing a whisper, "I am wet.  I need you now," and nips his neck and suckles his ear lobe with her lips.

Roberto tosses his about spent cigar overboard and growls at his tigress in heat, "Then here and now it will be," as he tumbles onto her, tipping over the chaise lounge.  It is here on the decking as he pulls a white leather seat cushion from a bench with one hand, lifts her skirt with the other and with both plunks her panty-less butt onto the cushion.

 

 

Once near home, Hunter turns onto Jutland, by-passes Atwell Street, his usual turn that runs into Arcola at the cul-de-sac.  Instead he goes a long block further and turns into the top end of Arcola, lights off, and stops.  He looks down towards his and Dee's homes, and the cul-de-sac at the bottom of the hill.  They sit for several minutes.  A police patrol car is still parked against the dead-end railing on the cul-de-sac. Hunter says, "Brad's word is his bond.  As long as I'm here, someone is going to be out front, or somewhere close. I guess that's good.  Let's go."  He turns the lights back on and drives down the slight hill and into his garage.  They get out and go directly into the house through the inside garage door.  Hunter heads to his room saying, "I'm going to change, okay?  Be back in a jiffy.  I'll meet you in the tub with the drinks."

"Okay.  And I'll just have some of that pancake syrup you call brandy."

"Heard ya. Be nice."

Dee murmurs, "I'm goin' to be more than nice."  
Utterly clueless.
 

Hunter returns, pours two snifters of apricot brandy and goes out onto the patio.  He hands one snifter to Dee who is already in the sunken Jacuzzi at the end of the pool.  Sets his down and slides in next to her.  Turns slightly, then lurches back from her like a hooked yellow tail.  "Dammit, Dee.  You're not wearing a damn thing.  Where the devil is your  ..."

"I know.  I know.  But I hate to put on a cold damp suit.  Sorry. Just don't look.  Besides, the bubbles hide everything."

"The bubbles don't hide a damn thing.  Nothing does."

"So?"

He picks up his snifter, takes a gulp and growls, "You ... Are ... Dangerous."  Takes just a sip this time slides a good two feet away.  Then inches another foot from her, sliding his brandy snifter along the ledge.  She laughs at his defensive choreography.

The mood changes as quick as a toad's tongue when Hunter begins talking in a business tone of voice about his plan.  The tone and the substance get her undivided attention.  For the first time today, and yesterday late, she seems to have her mind on something other than seducing him.  She asks questions here and there, but most of the time she is intent on listening.  Nodding in agreement or comprehension.  At the end he pauses, takes a last sip of brandy and says, "Well, generally, what do you think of it?"