Outsourced (12 page)

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Authors: Dave Zeltserman

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General

BOOK: Outsourced
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On the other side of the shrubs, Kathleen Liciano was kneeling by the dead body. She looked up as Resnick approached her.

“He was shot once in the forehead with a forty-five caliber,” she told him.

Resnick scanned the empty lot. “Could he have been shot in the bank’s parking lot and dragged here?”

“No. I found the bullet casing here. Also, there would be plant debris on his clothing if he had been dragged through those bushes.”

Resnick looked down at his own suit and brushed away some small leaves that had attached themselves to it. Maguire walked over to him, still cursing over his torn pants.

“I just bought this suit,” he complained. He looked down at the dead body and shook his head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with these old guys having to walk around as if they’re still at Woodstock. He should’ve been shot dead just for dressing like that. Do we know who he is?”

Liciano shook her head. “He had no identification on him.”

“Car keys?” Resnick asked.

“No. His pockets were empty.”

Resnick stared at the dead body. There was a small entry wound in the middle of his forehead. Without looking, Resnick knew there would be a large hole blasted out of the back of his skull. The dead man’s body looked bloated, his skin grayish. There was a smallness to his face, though. Almost as if it had shrunk in death. Resnick looked past the body and could see small pieces of brain and bone fragments littering the pavement.

“I wonder what he was doing here?” he asked no one in particular. “This store has been vacant for years.”

“Probably lousy luck more than anything else,” Maguire offered. “Maybe he was going to cut through to the bank, ran into the perps, and got shot either because he saw something, or maybe for his car.”

“But why would he park here?” Resnick asked. “Why not in the bank’s lot?”

“Who knows?”

Kathleen Liciano stood up, stretching. She removed her latex gloves. “I’m done here,” she said. She handed Resnick a card. “Call me in a day and I’ll let you know if the autopsies reveal anything.” An ambulance had pulled up next to them. She turned to talk with the EMT workers about the removal of the body.

Resnick took one last look at the dead body and then faced Maguire. “Let Tom and Phil handle the witnesses,” he said. “Get the surveillance tapes and I’ll meet you back at the station.”

“What about you?”

Resnick gave a thin smile, one of the few Maguire had seen from his partner during the three months they had worked together. “I have an errand I need to run,” he said.

16

Shrini drove while Dan lay slumped over in the backseat. Both of them had taken their overalls off. Dan had also taken off his wig and had been able to remove the mustache and sideburns using the solution Gordon had left him, but he didn’t want to risk anyone else seeing him until he had the rest of the makeup off.

Shrini was fuming, too furious to talk. Every few minutes he’d punch at the wheel and let loose with a string of curse words, both in English and Hindi. That seemed to go on for about forty minutes. Then, after some quiet, he told Dan in a tight angry voice, “If your friend thinks I am going to go quietly back to India, he’s in for a very big surprise, believe me.”

“Joel just needs to cool off. When he does, he’ll give us our share,” Dan said, his own voice sounding brittle and odd to him. He still had this strange sensation that he was only a spectator to what was going on around him, almost as if he were watching everything from outside his body.

“No, I don’t think so. I believe this is what your friend intended from the beginning.”

“Come on, Shrini. He went over the top because of what happened with Gordon. He’ll cool off.”

“Come on yourself, dude! Why do you think he demanded his pig-friend be included?” Shrini’s voice choked off. Dan could see from the reflection in the rearview mirror that Shrini’s dark eyes were simmering with fury. “Believe me,” Shrini continued when he could. “I am going to receive my share from that little peacock friend of yours, and after I do I am going to kick his ass all over the place.”

Dan lowered his head back on to the seat and closed his eyes. As enraged as Shrini was, he himself felt nothing but a gnawing anxiety in his gut. He couldn’t blame Joel for what he’d done; after all, he was the one who had promised that Gordon would behave himself during the bank robbery. Joel was right, he had a price to pay for what happened, although he still couldn’t comprehend Gordon shooting those two women. It just made no sense to him.

“What was it with that Gunga Din talk?” Shrini demanded. “Was that supposed to be some sort of racist insult?”

“He was just trying to get under your skin. Try to calm down, okay? If we give Joel a couple of days to cool off, he’ll come to his senses.”

“I don’t want to give your friend any days. I say we buy two rifles and wait outside his house and welcome him the same as he did to us. Then we take the money and split it between us.”

“What are you saying? You want us to ambush him? Kill him?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Shrini, please, man, calm down. We’re not killers.”

“I hate to break it to you, dude, but we are. Once Gordon killed that girl we became killers.”

“How could we have expected Gordon to do that?”

“It doesn’t matter; if we get caught we will all be treated as killers. That’s the law.”

“We’re not going to get caught,” Dan stated stubbornly, but he wasn’t so sure whether he believed it himself. Joel shooting Gordon changed everything. He hadn’t been able to think it through enough to understand the ramifications of what Joel had done. Every time he tried, his mind just seemed to shut down on him.

“I still say we buy two rifles,” Shrini insisted, his tone now more petulant than angry.

“If we did, we’d probably be the ones getting our heads blown off. Joel is one paranoid son of a bitch. He’d probably smell that we were out there. Let’s just give him some time and things will work out.”

Shrini started to argue, but instead punched the steering wheel one last time. They were only a mile from Gordon’s condominium complex. When Joel had ordered Dan to take Gordon’s car keys, Dan realized then that he had better take Gordon’s wallet also. Now that the police were going to find Gordon’s body, he had to make sure that there was nothing in Gordon’s apartment linking him to the robbery. He just had to hope that there was no other identification on Gordon, at least nothing that would lead the police to his apartment within the next hour or so.

Shrini pulled into the complex and parked in one of the visitor spots. The two of them looked at each other, and Dan took a deep breath as he nodded. There was a risk someone would see them going into Gordon’s apartment, but they had no other choice. They moved quickly, Shrini keeping about thirty yards behind Dan as they walked across a courtyard to a side door. Dan looked up briefly and didn’t spot anyone. When he got to the side door, he fumbled with the keys for what seemed like an eternity before opening it. He kept the door open long enough so that Shrini would be able to follow him, then went straight to Gordon’s apartment, this time opening the door almost without breaking stride. Once he got inside he leaned against the hallway wall, his heart pounding in his chest. Shrini followed seconds later.

“You think anyone saw us?” Dan asked, breathless.

“Relax, dude. It’s three twenty-five. No one’s around.”

Dan held his stomach as he caught his breath. “Okay,” he said, “I need to get this makeup off. While I’m doing that, check Gordon’s computer and get rid of any pictures of Lombardo. Also, get rid of his anonymous email account.”

“Any other orders you wish to give me?”

“Come on, man, we don’t have time to get pissed at each other right now.”

Shrini pointed his finger at Dan, his mouth poised to spit out something, but instead he swallowed back whatever he was planning on saying. Shaking his head, he sat over by the computer and turned it on. Dan watched for a moment, immobilized by a deep sense of dread. It seemed to take every bit of strength he had to force himself to walk towards the bathroom. When he got there and saw his reflection in the mirror, he broke out laughing. With the wig and facial hair removed, he looked like some sort of weird hybrid of himself and Raymond Lombardo.

Getting the rubber compound off was harder than he would’ve thought. The damn stuff just didn’t want to come off. He kept scrubbing with the solution Gordon had given him, but it didn’t seem to do any good. He ended up having to chip the stuff off with a nail file. When he was finally done, he saw that the compound had left a dark reddish discoloration around his jawbone, chin and nose.

Goddamn it,
Dan thought,
what else you got for me? Frogs, locusts, boils? Bring it on, asshole.

He stood staring at himself in the mirror and then, resigned to the situation, joined Shrini in the other room. Shrini’s head cocked to one side as he noticed Dan.

“You got a bad rash on your face.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“It looks like it’s where the makeup was. I don’t think this is good.”

“I agree. Any suggestions?”

“This is not working out.” Shrini sat staring at Dan for a long moment as he shook his head. “I could try buying medication from a pharmacy,” he said. “Maybe if you spend the night on my sofa your rash will be gone by tomorrow.”

“I don’t think I could do that, but we can talk about this later. Right now I better search the apartment and make sure there’s nothing here that can connect Gordon to the robbery. How are you doing with his computer?”

Shrini shrugged. “I’m doing Gordon a favor and also getting rid of all the porn. Believe me, there’s a lot of it. I’m almost done.”

“Okay, I’ll probably need ten minutes.”

Dan found a garbage bag in the kitchen and made a quick search of the apartment. Aside from the rubber compound and pieces of a wig that Gordon had used to make up the facial hair, the only other incriminating evidence Dan found were some printed photos of Lombardo. He also found a roll of hundred-dollar bills hidden in a dresser drawer. He counted four thousand two hundred dollars. He hesitated on what to do with the money, then slipped it into his pocket. When he joined Shrini, he showed him the roll of bills.

“You can have half of it, buddy,” he told Shrini.

Shrini considered it, then shook his head. “I don’t think so. It would make me feel too much like a grave robber. I will just be satisfied with my share of the robbery. And trust me, I am going to get it.”

Dan nodded, understanding Shrini’s feelings. “Are you ready to leave?”

“I’ve been ready for five minutes.”

Dan wiped off the keyboard and mouse and then rolled the garbage bag up under his arm. He opened the door, made sure that the hallway was empty, and signaled for Shrini to leave. Then, stepping out himself, he locked the door behind him and tried to appear calm as he walked out of the building. By the time he got to Shrini’s Civic, he was sweating like crazy and could hear the blood pounding in his head. He just about collapsed into the passenger seat.

“Breathe, okay?” Shrini said. “The last thing I need now is for you to drop dead in my car.”

“Thanks for your concern.”

They drove in silence after that. Dan tried to think through what had happened during and after the robbery, but just felt too exhausted. He had to close his eyes. As his consciousness started drifting away, Shrini’s voice woke him.

“I am going to get my money from your friend,” he stated.

“We both will.”

“I want us to see him tomorrow.”

“Shrini, trust me on this, we’re better off giving him a few days.”

“I will give him two days at the most. That’s all.” His face darkened with anger as he thought over the events. “Believe me, I will not forget the two of them pointing guns at us.”

Dan nodded. He tried to keep his eyes open, but his lids were just too damn heavy. Again, Shrini’s voice woke him.

“I wasn’t going to abandon you,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” Dan muttered, not quite sure what Shrini was talking about.

“I mean it. When I asked your friend for my share, I was planning to split with you whatever he gave me.”

Dan just stared straight ahead. After another couple of minutes of silence, Shrini asked Dan what he was going to do about his rash. “I think it looks worse now,” he said.

“I don’t know. I guess as long as the police believe Lombardo’s involved, this rash doesn’t much matter.”

Shrini pulled into his apartment complex. After parking, he asked if Dan wanted to come up and help him finish off the rest of the tequila. “We should have a drink in Gordon’s memory,” he said.

Dan thought about it and shook his head. “Carol’s waiting for me.”

“I’ll have to finish the bottle off myself then.” Shrini’s face grew somber as he seemed to lose himself in his thoughts. Snapping out of it, he looked at Dan. “I’ll see you in two days,” he said.

Dan nodded and left the car.


Money, it’s a gas. Grab all you can and smoke some hash.

“Will you shut the fuck up!”

Hoffer, a big grin plastered across his face, asked, “What’s your problem? You don’t like my singing?”

Joel grimaced, slowly rubbing both his temples, holding the steering wheel in place with his elbows. “You’re fucking tone deaf, that’s my problem.”


Money, it’s a hit. Just don’t light up any of that bad shit
.”

“I told you to shut up.” Joel took a sideways glance at Hoffer. “I’m not going to tell you again.”

Hoffer could barely contain himself as he rocked back and forth in his seat. “You’re just jealous, man.”

“Fuck you. Not only is your croaking giving me a headache but you’re screwing up the lyrics, you asshole. You’re fucking ruining Pink Floyd for me.”

Hoffer smacked his fist several times into an open palm. “I am so jacked right now,” he said. “Fuck, I wish I had some good weed on me.”

“Yeah, that would be just brilliant. Why don’t I flag down the first cop I see and beg him to search my car? Asshole.”

“Shit, you worry too much. Let’s do something, man. We got guns and ski masks. First gas station we see, man. We can grab some more cash and watch some asshole shit bricks staring down a couple of AK-47s.”

Joel gave him a slow cold stare, his upper lip twisting into a sneer.

“Why don’t you go back to butchering Pink Floyd,” he said. “It would be better than listening to these brilliant ideas of yours.”

Hoffer flipped him the bird and held it steady until Joel took a swipe at his outstretched finger.

“I don’t understand you, Joel. We did it, man. We robbed that bank. We got away with it and we have all the money. Why are you sitting there sulking?”

“In case you didn’t notice I killed someone,” Joel muttered half under his breath.

“I couldn’t hear you, man. What did you say?”

“I said I fucking killed someone! You say another word, make another sound, and I’m putting you out of the car. I mean it!”

Hoffer was about to start drumming on the car’s dashboard, but the look Joel gave him made him pull his hands back. After only a few minutes of quiet, Joel screwed up his face, looking like he’d been punched in the gut. “Why would he have to shoot those two women?”

“Because he was a wacko.”

“Do you know what he was even saying to that girl?”

“Not a clue.”

“She should’ve known better.” Joel shook his head, his upper lip separating from his teeth as he grimaced. “You don’t give someone lip who’s holding a gun on you. I don’t care what the loon might be saying to you.”

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