The Rabbit Factory (43 page)

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Authors: Marshall Karp

Tags: #Suspense

BOOK: The Rabbit Factory
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Declan went directly into the men's room and locked the door. The sanitary inspection sign on the wall was initialed in the 11 a.m. spot. Nobody would be back to clean up or empty the trash until noon. He removed the backpack and deposited it in the wastebasket. Then he covered it with paper towels. He took a leak, washed up, went to the counter, and ordered :i Whopper with cheese, large fries, and a chocolate shake. To go.

He was back in the parking lot when the minivan pulled in.

Damn! The driver was a pretty, ivory-skinned lass with long red hair. She could have passed for Megan Bodine's sister. She pulled into a space and Declan heard the clamor of kids ready to swoop into the Burger King for a meal that he knew they

would never get to finish. He looked at his watch. Four minutes.

He walked calmly over to the van, just as the beautiful young mother stepped out. She had two gorgeous daughters in the back seat. One was about seven. The other was about nine months younger. Irish twins.

"Excuse me, Miss," he said. "An old fellow in there just had a seizure. Fell down and split his head open. They already called 9-1-1, but there's blood and vomit all over the floor. Not very pleasant for the little ones."

She opened the back door. "Stay in the car, girls." She closed the door and turned back to Declan. "Thank you. We'll go to McDonald's. We actually like it better, but the kids insisted on coming here. They're trying to win a free trip to Familyland. I'll just go in, ask for some game cards, and leave."

Declan reached into his bag and pulled out a red, blue, and silver scratch-off card. "Here. Give them mine."

"Thanks, but two kids, one card? I'll never hear the end of it. I better run in and try to get another one."

"Don't go," Declan said, forcefully enough to make her back up a step. He softened his tone. "It's not a pretty sight in there for them or for you. Hold this." He handed her his bag of food and ran back into the restaurant. What the fuck ami doing? Am I out of my fucking mind? Three minutes.

There was no line at the counter. "Give me another one of those contest tickets," he said. He didn't know the rules about how many tickets you could get, but Declan had a face people didn't argue with.

He ran back to the parking lot. The rear window of the van as open and the two girls were anxiously waiting for their game cards. He handed the second one to the mother. Her eyes

were green and her smile was radiant. And the girls were the spitting image of their Ma. Declan was glad he went back.

"I'm Bonnie Dolan," she said. "This is Colleen and this is Kelly. Normally, they'd be in school, but we had parent-teacher conferences today." She handed each girl a card. "What do you say, girls?"

"Thank you," the older one said. She began scratching the card.

"I'm Kelly Dolan," the younger one said. "What's your name?"

"I'm Liam Flaherty," Declan said. "I hope you win the contest."

Kelly sat back down and began working on her card. Two minutes.

"Well, it was lovely to meet you, Mrs. Dolan," Declan said, opening her driver's side door. "We better skedaddle before the ambulance gets here."

She didn't budge. "You sound like you're from the old sod," she said. "My family is from Ireland. Whereabouts do you live?"

Jesus, this broad can't fucking shut up. "Brooklyn, New York. Moved there twenty years ago, but I just can't seem to get rid of the brogue."

"Well, don't ever lose it. It's charming. I told the girls that the kitchen is closed, but believe me, they only care about winning that free trip. I know they can't win. But even if they did, this is one family that's not going to Familyland. Have you heard what's going on? People were murdered, and terrorists have threatened to kill anybody who has anything to do with Lamaar."

contest, you dumb bitch?

Then why enter their fucking

Declan never asked or cared why the target had to be a Burger King, but last night, when the news about Lamaar broke, he had

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figured it out. "Terrible what this world is coming to," he said. "I hear a siren, so let's clear a path for the ambulance." Sixty seconds.

"I hope your lunch didn't get cold," she said, handing him his bag back. She climbed into the van and Declan shut the door. "You're a genuine Irish gentleman, Mr. Flaherty. Thank you."

"My pleasure." He smiled and waved at the girls until she pulled out. Then he raced for the Taurus. Thirty seconds.

As he started the car he saw the Mexican painters get into their truck. This is your lucky day, amigos. Declan felt good that they got out in time. He felt even better that the guy yelling into the cell phone was still in there. He laughed as he pulled out of the driveway onto 1-45. I'd have killed that fat fuck for free.

I

The flyers that were dropped over Familyland said We've killed twelve so far. But the killers wanted to make sure the world knew who, when, where, and how. So they released the specifics to the media. Now the newscasters seemed to revel in repeating all the gory details.

"This is like reliving all the shit we've been through in the past two weeks," Terry said, as we listened to the radio on the drive back to L.A.

I didn't need KFWB to tell me that people were scared, but they told me anyhow. The threat itself was terrifying, but the radio station bombing, the theatre fire, and the dead rabbit at Macy's had spooked people even more.

Reporters interviewed moms and dads on the street, and the response was universal: I'm not taking any chances. My kid isn 't going near anything that has anything to do with the Lamaar Company. This was the anthrax scare and the D.C. sniper to the tenth power.

Ike Rose's press conference was scheduled for noon. We got to The Beverly Wilshire Hotel at 11:45, found Garet Church, and

did a quick debriefing.

"A judge authorized the taps," Church said. "I'm also going to put tails on the three of them. It'll burn up eighteen agents a day, but it's worth the manpower. I like how you set up Barber. When should we bring him in?"

"Let's see how the other two react first," Terry said. "I once pulled this bit on a bunch of drug pushers. Gave three of them my card and said 'Catch you later, Armando' to the fourth. They shot Armando before I got back to the office. Instead of a drug bust we put the rest of them away on a murder rap. You gotta love happy endings."

"We heard about the incidents in New York," I said. "Any leads?"

"A few sketchy descriptions. Our guys in New York arc looking at the security tapes from Macy's. But we may have something worse than a dead rabbit. I got a report from NYPI) that a teenage girl was pushed in front of a subway and killed. She was wearing a leather jacket with Lamaar characters painted on the back. Nothing positive that tells us it's connected, but il it is, she's the first to die since they went public with the threat."

"Death to Lamaar and all those who associate with them," Terry said. "You bet your ass it's connected."

Garet looked at his watch. "It's 11:55, gentlemen. Time for Meet The Press."

t Ś the Grand Ballroom of The Beverly Wilshire Hotel was I crammed with photographers with cameras pressed to JL. their faces, reporters with laptops perched on their laps, and security people with guns strapped to their hips. B Church, Terry, and I found a spot in a corner at the front of e room, where we could watch the speaker and the audience t the same time.

The microphones had all been lowered to Ike Rose's limited eight, and, at precisely noon, the head of the most beleaguered company on the planet stepped up to the podium, looking poised, self-possessed, and downright unflappable.

"I have a brief statement, and then I'll take questions," he id. "Lamaar Studios, Familyland, Rambunctious Rabbit, and all he other Lamaar characters are American institutions that symbolize our values and way of life. Someone is determined to destroy those values by attacking our employees, our cuslomers, and our business partners. I don't know why this animosity is directed toward us, but I have spoken with the Director of the FBI, the Secretary of Homeland Security, and the

c

President, and they have assured me that protecting and

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''defending this great American institution is a national priority.

Questions."

Dozens of reporters jumped out of their seats, all yelling at once. "Debbie," Ike said, pointing at a lady in the third row.

Thank you, Mr. Rose. Debra Alonzo, L.A. Times. What precautions are being taken to protect those who are at risk?

"We are in the process of shutting down all our public facilities. As you can imagine this is a major undertaking. We have 1hotels filled to capacity, cruise ships at sea, and other venues

'that can't be evacuated as quickly as Familyland. We're also

increasing security at all facilities that are vital to our day-to-day '"operations. In an effort to further safeguard the public, I called

1the heads of the major theatre chains. All Lamaar and Freeze

Frame films will be pulled from distribution immediately. We will issue security updates on a regular basis. Next question." ŚTrish Conrad, Fox News. Ronnie Lucas was killed on April 20,

which is ten days ago. Did Lamaar know then that there was a plot to kill its employees?

If the question made Ike uncomfortable he didn't show it. "When Ronnie was killed, LAPD suspected there could be a coni,nection

between his murder and the death of Eddie Elkins, which

I"

took place three days earlier, but at that time there was no con-ii i !crete evidence that any other Lamaar employees were at risk."

Byron Barclay, CNN. When Elkijis was killed he was wearing a Rambunctious Rabbit costume. Why was a high-profile murder like that kept from the press?

"Mr. Elkins was an ordinary citizen, not a high-profile celebrity. His murder was thought to be personally motivated and not related to the costume he wore. We didn't keep it from

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The Rabbit Factory

the press. At the time it was just another tragic L.A. homicide that didn't make the headlines."

It was a smooth answer. Amy Cheever would have been proud.

Follow-up question. Judy Kaiser, a visitor to Familyland, was killed on Sunday, April 24 inside the park. Surely by then you knew that your employees and the general public were at risk. Why didn 'tyou issue a warning then? Why did you wait for nine more of your employees to be killed, and even then it was the people behind the killings who went public with the information.

"Lamaar has over sixty thousand employees worldwide. Hundreds of millions of people watch our movies, buy our products, and use our services. I made a decision that to go public would create panic. I hoped that the FBI could catch the murderers before any more damage was done. That didn't happen."

Ron Frank, Wall Street Journal. Were you afraid that going public with the information would hurt your stock?

"No. Our stock value didn't play a factor in the decision that was made."

Terry leaned over and whispered in my ear. "And I did not have sexual relations with that woman." We both knew Rose was full of shit. My guess is that the guy who asked the question knew it too.

Follow-up question. When The New York Stock Exchange Opened this morning, they immediately halted trading on Lamaar stock for two hours. When trading resumed your stock opened at $95, down from yesterday's closing of $127.50. It's now at $ 72 and declining. Will you try to convince the Exchange H> halt trading indefinitely while your company is under siege?

L

"I wish I could, Ron, but as you well know, that's not the way the market works. Whenever there is a significant imbalance between buyers and sellers on a stock, trading is halted long enough to allow the exchange specialists to set a new price range. They did, and our stock went into play again. It's frustrating because the price is being driven down, not because of poor performance on our part, but as a direct result of crimes against the company."

"Sir!" It was Brian Curry. He stepped up to the podium, whispered in Rose's ear, and handed him a single sheet o! paper. The room went silent as Rose read it carefully. The only sounds were the clacking of keyboards, the snapping of shul ters, and the whirring of camera motors.

Rose finally stepped back up to the microphones. "I have some bad news," he said. I could hear the tremor in his voice and see pain on his face. "A bomb was set off at a Burger Kinn in Dallas, Texas. Four people are dead and about ten customer and employees have been injured."

A chorus of voices wanted to know what this had to do wilh Lamaar.

"I was getting to that. We are in the middle of a fifty-million dollar promotion with Burger King. The top one hundred win ners were to be flown to Familyland and ride on floats down Fantasy Boulevard with the Lamaar characters during our big Fourth of July parade."

There was a raucous flurry of questions. "Please, let nil finish!" They quieted down. "Our hearts and prayers go out lit the dead, the injured, and their families. I will call the senior management at Burger King immediately and cancel the promo tion, and I will ask my people to contact every company wf

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The Rabbit Factory

partner with to shut down all Lamaar merchandising and tie ins."

He paused and the reporters began firing away again. "Please," he said, "I have a message for the American people. I don't know why these crimes have been directed toward Lamaar, but I do know that innocent people should not have to suffer by association. In light of this tragedy, I am asking every man, woman, and child in America to disassociate from our company, our products, and our services. I apologize if you I lave been put at risk. I thank you for your understanding and ask only for your prayers. No more questions."

Rose stepped down. Shutters clicked like a swarm of locusts. There was only one easy exit, a side door. Church, his arm in a sling, got behind Rose and shoved him toward it. Gurry, Terry, and I were right behind them.

We went through two sets of double doors before the sound of reporters calling Ike Rose's name finally faded. We were Śstanding inside the Grand Ballroom's huge industrial kitchen. It was empty. No chefs, no waiters, no food. Just stainless steel as lar as the eye could see.

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