Deadly Treatment (22 page)

B
ack at his mother’s house, Daniel put in another call to Malone’s place, and once again he got the answering machine.

‘Hi guys, looks like you’re never at home now; either you’ve moved house or things are progressing well with the Costello kid. Anyway, just thought I’d tell you that I’m staying in Vegas for another night, and I’ll be back in LA sometime tomorrow. See you then – that’s if you’re still there,’ he joked.

He left his number in case they needed to contact him, and then hung up.

Shannon, who’d been in her bedroom changing, came into the living area; ‘They not home again?’ she quizzed.

‘Nah, Malone is pretty tireless when he’s got something he’s passionate about. Poor old Taylor, I feel sorry for her being dragged around by him,’ he chuckled.

Shannon smirked slightly at his remark, but there was that name Malone again. Somehow it rang a bell.

‘What are my grandparents like?’ Daniel asked.

‘You don’t beat around the bush do you?’ Shannon replied.

Daniel had already worked out that the best way to ask his mother about what he wanted to know was to be direct; being coy just didn’t work. He was more than happy to hear all her stories, but he really wanted the answers to his questions that only she could give him.

As usual, she thought for a moment about the best way to answer. ‘Old and strict,’ was how she began, and with a freshly lit cigarette, she continued.

‘I grew up in Norwalk just south of LA and north of Anaheim. They had me very late. Mom and Dad were both very old-fashioned and both very religious; well, Mom was more so than Dad, but either way, it was difficult for me to get away with anything. Dad used to work quite long hours as an architect in the city, and would come home exhausted; dinner was always on the table waiting for him. Then it was teachings, prayers, and bed. I didn’t notice it too much until I hit my early teens; then, fitting in became the most important thing in my life. I started to rebel — short temper and shorter skirts. Smoking, drinking, big hair, gaudiest colored clothes… the list went on. Parties and boyfriends meant everything to me; the same as for almost every teenager the world over.’

Not for me
, Daniel thought.

‘I stopped going to church, and I can’t remember the number of times I was grounded.’ She paused briefly. ‘Then, I met your father, DC. As I said, it was in a club in LA, and like I told you, he was quite a bit older than me. Mom and Dad took an instant dislike to him; I guess they thought he’d corrupt me or something, but by that time, I don’t know who had more to teach who. Inevitably, it all came down to a
him or us
argument, and needless to say, DC won. As it turned out, it broke my father’s heart, quite literally, or at least that’s how I remember it.’ Shannon looked sad.

‘It all happened so quickly. One minute I was a rebellious teenaged girl fighting for her own identity, next minute I was turfed out of the family home, living with DC, my father had died of a heart attack, and my mom had immersed herself into religion.’

Shannon was talking fast, and Daniel was having trouble keeping up. ‘My grandfather is dead too? Damn.’

In the space of a couple of conversations, Daniel had lost his two key male family role models.

‘Of course, I blamed myself, but the truth is; aneurisms can happen at any time, cold comfort to the logic of a sixteen-year-old.’ Shannon got up from the couch and stepped over to the kitchen. ‘Feel like a tipple?’ she asked Daniel as she opened a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of Johnny Walker Red.

Eager to fit in, Daniel readily accepted.

Shannon poured the drinks, and then sat back down on the couch.

‘What about Grandma? What happened to her? Is she still alive?’ he asked.

‘Sadly, no,’ she said as she gloomily took a sip of her drink.

‘What about brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts?’

Shannon shook her head.

‘So, no other family, and I’ll never meet my father or grandparents because they’re dead,’ summarized Daniel, sighing as he joined Shannon and sipped his own drink.

They were silent for a few moments, somehow honoring the dead in their own thoughts before Shannon started to talk again. ‘Not exactly,’ she said softly.

‘Pardon me?’ Daniel asked.

‘I said not exactly. You see, although Mom blamed me for the loss of my father, and she refused to have anything else to do with me, I managed to keep track of her. She sold up the family home and donated it all to charity; and then, as I said, she threw herself into religion. She got baptized and entered a place called the Sisterhood of the Holy Devine — a bunch of do-gooders. I found out later that she’d become a devout Christian, never away from the bible, and almost always involved in some prayer meeting or religious teaching. The Sisterhood were always sending their people on assignments — first America, and then on to places like Bolivia or the rainforests around Panama; my mother was to be no different. They started to offer her out to the local schools; apparently she had quite a gift with children.’

Shannon took a big gulp of her whiskey as she thought fondly of her mother. ‘Then she got moved around the state, first to LA, then Sacramento, and then she ended up in Frisco.’ She put down her glass and held Daniel’s hand. ‘Daniel, you have met your grandmother. Her name was Elizabeth.’

Daniel’s jaw almost hit the ground. ‘Sister Elizabeth was my
grandmother
?’ He pulled away from Shannon; suddenly, it all made sense; and in the same way, none of it made any sense at all.

‘I had no idea what to do?’ Shannon said as tears started to fill her eyes. ‘DC had been taken from me; I was all alone, living in a hostel. My world had been turned upside down and then shattered right in front of me. The only person on this planet that I could go to, the only person I knew would take care of you and protect you was my mom, your grandmother.’

Shannon was down on her knees and her head was in Daniel’s lap as she began to cry. Daniel’s hand tentatively moved towards her hair, stopped for a second then settled softly on her head; gently he stroked her hair and told her it was okay. It was their first real contact, and although it didn’t last long, in both of their minds, the moment spanned twenty long years.

It had been an emotionally draining evening; Shannon continued to tell Daniel about the first year of his life, what they did, and of course his first birthday party. She tried to put names to the people who surrounded him in the photo; but as she could only remember a few of them, she made up the rest. By the time they were finished talking, the clock had hit the one A.M. mark. Shannon yawned loudly and kissed Daniel on the forehead as she shuffled off to bed where she slept soundly for the first time in many years.

The next morning, Shannon awoke and fully stretched in her bed. She lit up her morning smoke and called out to Daniel to put the coffee on. Assuming he was still asleep since he didn’t answer, she slid out of bed, threw on her gown, and ruffled her fingers through her hair trying to rub away that just got up look.

‘Come on sleepy head, rise and sh…’ As she came out of her room, she immediately saw that Daniel was gone.

‘
L
ooks like you’re in a whole heap of trouble,’ Detective Rodriguez said.

The four of them, Malone, Taylor, Erin, and the detective were all sitting opposite Ron Hughes in his home in Beverly Hills. On any other day, the deep plush couches would have been both luxurious and comforting, but for Ron today, as he squirmed to be at ease in his seat, there were a million other places he’d rather be.

‘Do I need a lawyer?’ he asked.

‘Well a lot of that depends on you. Right now you haven’t been formally charged with anything; but without your cooperation, I’m sure that position can easily be changed,’ Rodriguez said in a matter of fact tone.

‘What do you want to know?’ he asked softly.

‘We want to know who you got to burn down your old house on Mulholland,’ Erin jumped in.

‘What? You think I had something to do with that? You can’t be serious; I wasn’t even in town that day.’ The actor’s confidence had returned and his back had straightened; after all, he had an iron-clad alibi.

‘I can see why you’re so good at your job; you really are a good actor. What do you think folks; do we believe him?’ the detective was theatrically clapping as he spoke to the trio beside him. Then his tone grew serious.

‘I thought I told you what would happen if you didn’t cooperate. I know you were out of town, and I know that you’ve probably got a thousand people who can verify and corroborate your alibi.’ He paused a beat for effect.

‘Of course, we know it wasn’t you who set the fire, but what we also know is you contracted these two men to do it for you!’ He opened up his folder and slapped the identikit pictures of the two arsonists onto the table in front of the actor.

‘Now, let me ask again — who are these men who torched your house?’

Ron sank down in his seat as the detective continued.

‘By the way, in case you feel you want to lie again, I’m more than happy to get the IRS or a forensic accounts team to crawl all over your finances. I’m sure they’ll be able to find out how much you paid and to whom, but it’ll be easier for you and everyone else if you tell us now.’

‘And if you’re lucky, we’ll keep your little faggot thing a secret too!’ Erin stuck in.

‘Whoa, whoa, stop. You’ve made your point! I’ll tell you what I know.’ The actor held his head in his hands, all his bravado had disappeared.

‘I loved that house; she had no right to take it from me,’ he started. ‘It was just an unnecessary and vicious attack; if my lawyer had some proper balls, she would never have got away with it.’

Taylor was going to say something about men’s balls getting him into this mess in the first place, but then thought better of it.

‘She never liked the house; it was her way of getting back at me…’

‘Boo fucking hoo. We know all about this — get to the damn point,’ Erin snapped.

‘I only want you to know why I did what I did,’ Ron said sourly.

‘Don’t you get it? We don’t care about the stupid house. We need to know the names and addresses of these two men, the two men that kidnapped my little boy!’ she yelled at him.

‘I don’t know those men!’ he yelled back.

‘This is getting us nowhere. I think now is the time for you to call your lawyer,’ the detective said standing up.

‘Please, wait; let me finish,’ the Actor pleaded. ‘I have a go-to guy; he gets me anything I need — and I mean anything — all with no questions asked. I was angry, I had just had the call confirming I’d lost the house, and I guess I flipped. I got straight on the phone and told him what I wanted. I didn’t just want the house burned, I wanted it gone. He told me he knew someone who could help get that sorted — and that was that. I paid him some money, went on location for a couple of days filming, and next thing I knew the house was gone. I never met those guys, and I have no idea about your missing boy. That is the truth.’ Ron was desperate for them to believe his story. It was bad enough that he’d be arrested for conspiracy to commit arson, but for the public to know that he wasn’t a macho action figure — his career would be ruined.

The four of them looked at the pitiful excuse for a man now sobbing on the couch.

‘Get on the phone and get your man round here —
now
,’ the detective shouted.

In less than an hour, there was a knock at the door; Ron got up from the couch and quickly invited the man in. The actor had been given strict instructions not to introduce any of them, just to let the guy in and remain silent. The man followed the actor into the room, chatting chirpily in a cockney British accent as he walked.

‘So, what can I do for you today, me man? Whoa, I didn’t realize you were ‘aving a partee. Hi everyone, me name is Nick, pleased ta meet cha.’ Nick, a slight, unassuming man in what looked to be his late twenties walked swiftly around the room shaking hands.

The detective spoke first. ‘So, Nick, I understand that you’re the guy we go to if we need to acquire things or get things done.’

‘That’s me geeze. But I don’t deal with nuffin stolen — me name is Nick not Nic, ye get it? I deals in good times — drugs n gash and all fings flash — know what I mean?’

The detective smiled to himself.

‘Well, Nick, my name is Detective Rodriguez, and as they say in your country — You’re nicked!’

Nick shook his fist at the actor. ‘Ya stitched me up good n proper like. I’ll fuckin ‘ave you.’ 

‘Calm down — I need to ask you some questions, and if you answer them to my satisfaction, then maybe I’ll forget we ever met.’

‘Alright geeze, fire away, I likes nuffin better than elping out the fuzz.’

‘Ron here tells us that you hired these guys to torch his old house on Mulholland.’ The detective passed the pictures of the two arsonists over to Nick.

‘Don’t know ‘em mate,’ Nick said passing the pictures back to the detective.

‘Seems to me that no one knows who these guys are,’ the detective said sarcastically, shaking his head.

‘Look Nick, my name is Erin Costello. I know that you probably don’t want to give these guys up to the cops, but they were seen with my son. I don’t know what they’re doing with him; all I know is that I want him back, and that you are the key to helping me do this. So, I’m begging you, please, tell me where they are.’ She was looking deep into his eyes, searching his soul for any sign of decency.

Nick looked around at the faces staring back at him.

‘Alright. There’s this geeze I knows who I got to take care of this job. It was the only time I ever used ‘im, I swear, I wouldn’t normally do nuffin like this. It was only as a favor for my mate ‘ere.’

‘What’s his name?’ the detective asked.

‘I only know his first name; it’s Vic,’ Nick said timidly.

‘How do we find him? What’s his address?’ Erin butted in.

Nick looked to his feet ‘I can’t remember the name of the street,’ he muttered.

‘You’re shitting me,’ Erin yelled.

‘Look, I don’t know his name, just his sort of address an’ let’s face it, ‘e probably wouldn’t tell me his real name anyway would ‘e?’ Nick shot back.

‘Okay, that makes sense,’ Malone interrupted. ‘Give him a call and arrange a meet.’

‘But then he’ll know it’s me what set him up!’ Nick exclaimed.

‘His address, what’s the story about his address?’ Erin asked again.

‘Like I say’s, it was the first and only time I ever used this guy; he woz recommended by another contact I know. Anyhow, I calls him on the blower an’ meets up with him. But since I don’t know this geeze, after the meeting I follows him back to his office. I know where it is, I just don’t remember the name of the street. If you gets me a map, I’ll be able to show ya, I think.’

‘You’ll do one better than that Nick, you’ll take us to him.’ Rodriguez said sternly.

Nick thought for a minute.

‘Alright, this could work. If you swear you’ll forget you met me, and what I’ve done, I’ll take you to his manor and point out where you can find him. But you gotta promise he won’t find out it woz me what narked on him. Have we got a deal?’ He spat into the palm of his hand and offered it to the detective to shake.

Rodriguez pondered the deal for a moment. Having confirmed their involvement, both the actor and Nick were in serious trouble. The only thing in their favor at the moment was no one had gotten hurt. But with Joshua in the clutches of two obviously experienced and dangerous arsonists, this position could change very easily. The detective didn’t like making deals with criminals, but time was against them so he decided to accept, but expected he’d probably renege on the deal at a later date. So, declining to shake Nick’s hand, he said, ‘So long as he’s the right guy and you don’t pull a fast one, then I think we can live with that.’ He was an honest man and believed — as most honest men do — that a handshake deal is stronger than a legal contract, so by not shaking Nick’s hand, he had an out. Plus, there was no way he was going to get Nick’s saliva on his own hand.

‘Where to then, Nick?’ he asked, quickly gesturing towards the door.

Nick dropped his hand and led them out of the house. They all climbed into the detective’s unmarked car. Nick opted for the backseat between Taylor and Erin, with the detective driving and Malone riding shotgun. Nick told the detective to take Burton Way down to Wilshire Boulevard towards the city, then drop down to Echo Park. The drive from the actor’s home in Beverly Hills to downtown LA started off noisily, with Nick using his British charm and wit on Taylor.

‘So, Detective Taylor is it? You have got an arresting smile. How would ya like to escort me later to the opening of a new club on Sunset? I promise to keep me hands clean and show ya a night so good it should be illegal.’ He beamed at her.

Wincing, Malone sank down in his seat; he knew what was about to happen.

‘Listen up, you slimy, Limey creep. First of all, I’m not a cop, I’m his partner!’ Her voice was raised and she pointed at the back of Malone’s seat. ‘Second and far more importantly, what makes you think I’d want to go out with a scrawny no-hoper like you, to an up itself new club in an area of town full of has-beens, never-beens, wanna-bes and will-never-bes — basically, jerk-offs like you?’ With each word, Nick became more and more deflated. He turned to Erin for a bit of support.

‘Don’t look at me you cockney wanker! If I were you, I’d sit there quietly until you’re ready to point out your pal, or I’ll clobber you.’ Both men in the front smiled at each other as Nick shrunk to half his normal size and clammed up, silent for the rest of the journey.

‘Hello, I’m back — did you miss me?’ Daniel called out to a house that, with no blue Ford outside, he was pretty sure was empty. With no response, he went into his room, dumped his bag on the floor, and slumped down on his bed. He still wasn’t sure why he’d left Shannon without saying goodbye, or at least leaving a note; he just felt that he needed to get away and give all the information he’d received — in fact, all the information he had sought — a chance to settle. He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling, trying to piece together the puzzle that could be called his life.

So, my grandparents are dead; my father is dead; my mother works the tables in Vegas, and I live with a man who’s lost his daughter and wife — oh, and a woman who used to work for a megalomaniac looking to clone Jesus. Just how fucked up can one life be? he thought. He knew he was being a bit dramatic, but he also felt sure a bit of self-pity wouldn’t go amiss at this point. Curling up into a ball, he fell asleep.