Sweetie's Diamonds (44 page)

“Yeah, I know.
 
It's so stupid.
 
You'd think by now they'd have figured out I didn't kill Greg.
 
That's my ex-husband.”

“I know.
 
And what about your job at the school?”

She cocked her head and eyed him.
 
“You sure know a lot about me, don't you?”

He shrugged.
 
“It's what I do, Diane.
 
When you became the major link to solving the Rabinowitzes' murders, I did some homework.
 
But there's a lot I
don't
know about you.
 
Like, for instance, this business with a twin sister.
 
No one seems to know for certain whether you had a twin sister.
 
Is it true?”

“Yes, it's true.
 
Her name was Dana.”

“And she was the porn star, right?”

“That's right.”

“And she's dead.”

“As far as I know.”

Belgrad stroked his beard as he drove.
 

“What?” she asked.
 
“You don't believe me?”

“It's not that.
 
I just find it strange that you're unwilling to provide proof of her existence.”

“You're beginning to sound like my lawyer.”

“Where did you and your sister grow up?” he asked.

Diane crossed her arms and turned away.
 
She stared out the window and sighed.
 

“I can't ask you that question?” Belgrad inquired.

“I don't want to talk about it,” she answered.
 
“It's a painful part of my life.”

He merely nodded and continued to drive.
 

She turned back to him and said, “Look.
 
I just want to finish my business here, get rid of these diamonds for some hard cash, and make sure Aaron Valentine and his organization leave my son and me alone for the rest of our lives.
 
Then I'll go back to Illinois and I'll do what I can to clear things up.
 
One thing at a time.
 
It's all I can handle right now.”

“I understand,” he said.
 
“I'd like nothing better than to take care of Aaron Valentine and that goon Emo Tuff, too.
 
I doubt seriously that they'll ever be prosecuted for the Rabinowitzes' murders.
 
They've perfected their crimes to a fine art.
 
Look how long they've been going on and those guys have never been convicted of anything.
 
It's a case that calls for unorthodox methods.”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

He looked at her.
 
“What do you think it means?”

Diane didn't say anything.
 
They both knew what would happen if they found Gilliam at Valentine's warehouse.
 

“I have a gun,” Diane said.
 

“I figured you might.”

“I want to help you.”

“I thought you would.”

After navigating the streets toward the beach he pulled the Lexus over and parked in the shadows.
 
He pointed to a building across the street.
 
“There it is,” he said.
 

The memory of the place came back to Diane in a flood of emotion.
 
She felt the familiar anxiety well up within her chest and she suddenly felt nauseated.
 
Images of blood and death flashed before her eyes and she had to take a deep breath to calm herself.
 

“Are you okay?” Belgrad asked.
 

“Yeah,” she said.
 

The warehouse was the size of a small airplane hangar and was made of steel and wood.
 
It was set apart from other buildings on the street and looked as if it might be a storage center for construction equipment.
 
A sign in front of the main entrance proclaimed, “A.V. Enterprises.”
 
The building was dark except for faint illumination in the rear of the structure, where the loading dock was located.
 

“See that limo?” Diane asked.
 
She pointed to a black limousine, a portion of which was visible, parked at the back of the warehouse.

“Yeah.”

“That's the same car I saw them put Eric in.
 
They're here, Nick.”

“You said there were three guys with him?”

“Uh huh.”

A pair of headlights appeared in the rear-view mirror.
 
“Get down,” he said, ducking in his seat.
 
Diane did the same as a white stretch limousine went past them and pulled into the drive behind the warehouse.
 
“Looks like we were just in time.”
 
They watched as Aaron Valentine and Emo Tuff got out of the limo.
 
Tuff was still dressed in black, as he had been at the party, but Valentine had changed into street clothes.
 
They casually glanced up and down the street, didn't notice the Lexus in the dark, and then went inside the building.
 

Belgrad, popped the trunk, got out of the car, and quietly closed the door.
 
Diane followed and watched as he took two empty Coke bottles from the trunk and filled them with gasoline.
 
He stuffed rags in the bottle openings and then asked, “You ready?”

“Sure.”

“Oh, by the way,” he said.
 
“I can find someone who'll pay you good money to take those diamonds off your hands.”

“Really?”

“Sure thing.
 
Come on, let's go.”

D
iane and Belgrad crept along the side of the warehouse until they got to the rear edge of the building.
 
Belgrad peered around the corner and confirmed that the two limousines were the only vehicles present.
 
The loading dock door, a heavy steel shutter that rolled down from the ceiling, was open at the bottom.
 
A man could duck and enter the warehouse through there or use a standard door that was up a small flight of steps.
 

“I know another way in,” Diane said.
 

“Yeah?”

“It's on the other side of the building.
 
It's how I got in before.”

“Show me.”

They went around the building, retracing their steps to the front and then moving down the opposite side until they came to a series of windows.
 

Diane frowned.
 
“There used to be a bunch of boxes and crates here.
 
I climbed up and got in through that window.
 
It goes to a storage room that's closed off from the rest of the place.”

“I can give you a boost,” Belgrad said.
 
“See if you can get the window open.”

She put a foot in his cupped hands and he lifted her as high as he could.
 
Diane pushed on the hinged window, opening it after a few good thrusts.
 

“Can you climb in?” he whispered.

“I think so.
 
What will you do?”

“I'll find another way in.
 
Wait until I make a move in there, all right?”

“Okay.”
 
She put her head in the window and surveyed the place.
 
It was just as she remembered it.
 
The room contained tools and janitorial equipment, as well as a slop sink and cleaning supplies.
 
Diane jumped to the floor, using her self-defense training to land lightly.
 
The place was dim and dusty but enough illumination seeped in from the building's exterior lighting to allow visibility.
 

Damn!
 
She had forgotten to retrieve the Colt out of her purse.
 
That's just great, she thought.
 
There she had been, boasting to Belgrad how she could hold her own and now she was stuck in the warehouse without a weapon.
 
Alas, there was no turning back now.
 
On with it.

She carefully crept to the door and opened it a crack.
 
The warehouse interior hadn't changed much and seeing it brought back that terrible night with such ferocity that Diane recalled the smell of the incinerator and the sound of her voice echoing through the grand building.

“Sweetie?
 
Are you here?”

The place was filled with Erotica Selecta products—boxes of videos and DVDs, magazines, and adult books.
 
The warehouse served as a shipping center to retail outlets all over the world.
 
The incinerator, located in the wall opposite where Diane was hiding, roared as if it were alive.
 
Its doors were open, revealing flames that shot up from the lower depths of the warehouse, where unwanted material was disposed of.
 
Such as bodies.

The men were gathered thirty feet away, beneath a work light that hung from the ceiling on a single electrical cord.
 
Two guards held Eric Gilliam up by the arms, his hands tied behind him.
 
Diane could see blood and bruises on Gilliam's face.
 
Emo Tuff and Aaron Valentine stood in front of him.
 
The third guard was standing near the incinerator, holding a milkshake and sucking on the straw.

Tuff wore black gloves that she knew were lined with metal, if she remembered correctly.
 
A blow by a man wearing those gloves was like getting hit with a sledgehammer.
 

Sweetie had told her about the man with the metal-lined gloves… “Watch out for that guy,” she had said.

Valentine stepped closer to Gilliam and addressed him.
 
“Look, Eric, we can make this as unpleasant as possible for you, or we can end it right now.
 
Just tell us where we can find Dana and the boy.”

Gilliam mumbled something that Diane couldn't make out but she was certain that it was some kind of insult.
 
Valentine made a face, backhanded Gilliam, and then wiped the blood off his hand onto his victim's shirt.
 
He nodded to his henchman and stepped back as Tuff's struck Gilliam's face and stomach with pile-driver punches.
 

Diane shut her eyes and resisted the urge to cry out and stop them.
 
Was there anything she could do to help her friend?
 

Tuff stopped the pummeling and then squeezed Gilliam's cheeks, causing the actor to cry out in pain.

“Is your jaw broken, Eric?” Valentine asked.
 
“Becoming hard to talk, isn't it?
 
You better tell me what I want to know.
 
Otherwise in a little while you won't be able to talk at all and then we'll just have to put you in the incinerator.
 
We'll have no further use for you.
 
I'll find the stupid woman eventually, with or without your help.
 
I was just hoping you could save me a little time.”

Diane could barely understand what Gilliam said in reply.
 
It sounded as if his mouth was full of cotton.
 
“People saw me… at your party… if I disappear… you'll be a suspect…” the poor man said.
 

“Nonsense,” Valentine replied.
 
“You forget what kind of influence I have over my friends.
 
There are plenty of people who will testify that they saw you at my party, drunk and disorderly.
 
They'll say you left of your own volition.
 
Your car is no longer at Paradise.
 
It'll be found parked in front of your house in Van Nuys.
 
I believe it's already there.
 
No, Eric, I'll be able to provide plenty of evidence that after you left my party, you went home.
 
What happened there is anyone's guess.
 
Perhaps you simply left town.
 
No one will find your body.
 
I know we made mistakes in the distant past but I've learned that to properly dispose of someone then we have to obliterate every single piece of tissue associated with it.”