Deadly Treatment (4 page)

Having resolved in the shower to somehow break the repetitive trend, Daniel decided not to get dressed before coffee, but chose instead to wear just his PJs and dressing gown; he knew it wasn’t much of a stand, but it made him feel mildly better.
Who knows, I may even go for a run later,
he thought as he looked down at his slightly protruding belly.

‘Morning … calling in sick today?’ Malone jibed, looking at Daniel in his PJ’s.

‘I like the new look. Kinda casual, relaxed meets power nap …you could be on to something,’ Taylor added.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Daniel grunted as he made his way to the coffee pot.

‘Seriously, are you okay?’ Malone asked.

‘Sure, just having one of those days… Don’t you get the feeling that life has hit a bit of a routine?’

‘Funny you should say that,’ Malone smiled. ‘As you know, I’ve been feeling the same way at the Missing Persons Office. So yesterday, I took on a personal case; Taylor and I were just discussing it.'

Daniel’s eyes lit up. ‘A case? Why didn’t you tell me? What is it? What can I do to help? I can help, can’t I?’ he asked excitedly.

‘Easy, tiger. I don’t think it’s going to be as big as the last one, it’s a missing lad called Joshua. There was just something about his mother that made me want to help.’

‘The mother, eh… What’s she like, good looking? You’d better watch out, Taylor,’ Daniel joked.

‘Your mood has certainly changed,’ Taylor noted, slightly peeved.

Daniel waved it off, Malone continued.

‘She seems to have hit a brick wall with the police. Looks like the boy is a potential troublemaker, or at least has the makings of one. The mother is of the opinion that because of this, the LAPD are not being as helpful as they could be. I tend to agree, and Taylor doesn’t; that’s what we were discussing before you got up.’

‘I just think that in cases such as missing kids, the cops’ primary focus is on finding and returning the boy, regardless of his background,’ Taylor interjected.

‘And all I’m saying is that, although I agree with your sentiments, I also feel they have a greater interest or a stronger intent, in finding a good kid who has no history of trouble.’

Daniel watched the two of them face off at each other.

‘Okay, regardless of whether the LAPD is doing a great job, can we get back to the case?’ he asked, trying to get them to concentrate on the facts, rather than on their individual points of view.

‘For whatever reason, you’ve decided to take on an active role in this case. What’s the story so far?’ Daniel asked, focusing on Malone.

Malone filled him in on what he’d learned from Erin Costello.

Daniel and Taylor listened to what he had to say, and then Daniel added, ‘Great, certainly gives me a reason to get dressed today.’

‘Probably, but I still like your casual new look.’ Malone laughed.

A
nthony Cain was sick and tired from the past week’s travel, but he was convinced he was doing the right thing. If he had more time, there were so many people and places he could and needed to visit. But the clock was ticking, so he picked the ones he felt he could influence the most, and who in turn, would be the most influential. His first meeting in New York gave him a big boost; they’d told him they were going to do all they could to get the message out, and nothing was going to stop them.

Richmond Heights, Ohio, was a bit of a loss; his predecessor Goddard’s work had been far too good there. Cain had met with a small group that had contact with the relatives of the Rand trials, but time and Cain’s corporation had curbed their enthusiasm; they were spent. The long drive here to Dallas had been exhausting, but he needed to be strong because next it was on to a Medical facility in Albuquerque to talk about the true benefits of laetrile and shark cartilage, and then finally, to either Mexico or California — so much to do, so little time.

As he waited in the office reception area, he was sure that aside from Mexico or California, this meeting in Dallas would be one of the most influential and important. A hugely outspoken enemy of both his and his ex-employer worked from this office, and if anyone was going to cause a global stir, Dr. Brad Turnbold and his giant ego would be the one to do it.

Malone and Taylor had decided to spend the day in the city, and in particular, the LAPD station where they intended to meet with Detective Logan, Malone’s long-standing friend.

‘Thought I’d seen the last of you!’ Logan joked as he shook Malone’s hand.

Although they’d spoken on the phone, it had been a while since they’d seen each other.

‘And don’t you look as beautiful as ever,’ he said, kissing a blushing Taylor on the cheek.

‘Always the charmer. Looks like you’ve lost a bit of weight and smartened up your act.’ Malone joked.

‘Yep, got a new girl and started cycling.’

‘Sure you have – I didn’t think detectives could afford cosmetic surgery!’

‘Hardy har har… What brings you downtown anyway?’ Logan asked.

‘I need a favor.’

‘I didn’t think it would be a social call.’

Logan led them through to an interview room and sat down with them.

‘Fire away, what can I do for you?’

Malone filled Logan in on the Joshua Costello case, and asked if there was anything he could do to help them.

Logan left them in the room while he went to check out the details. On his return, he told them a detective Rodriguez was handling the case. ‘He’s a good man,’ Logan added.

‘Do you know if he’s had any luck?’ Malone asked.

‘According to the file, they’re going through the usual motions, but nothing’s turned up yet.’

‘Is there any way of jumping us up the priority list?’ Taylor asked.

‘You know I can’t do that. But I will put in a good word for you both and get him to maybe give the case a bit more attention.’

‘Can we meet him?’ Malone asked

‘He’s not back until after lunch; I can get you in to see him then if you’d like.’

They said goodbye to Logan, walked a few blocks, and found a small café that boasted the best coffee in LA. They ordered what turned out to be highly average lattes, but surprisingly, pretty good pastrami sandwiches. With Malone deep in thought, they both ate in reflective silence.

Back at the Station after lunch, they met with Detective Rodriguez, a pleasant enough guy in his mid to late thirties — average build, average height, average looks. Rodriguez was a helpful guy, but unfortunately, had nothing helpful to add. He seemed to be doing all the right things in all the right order, but Malone felt he was just going through the motions. After an hour of talking, they left the station no further forward, except that Rodriguez had promised to do what he could.

‘Fat chance’ Malone muttered as they left the building.

‘
S
o tell me again why we have a young boy tied up in the back room?’ Scott said as he paced around the room.

‘Like I told you, it all happened so fast. One minute I was shoving the giraffe onto the back seat, the next I’m shoving a boy in there too!’ Vince replied.

‘That poses another question, what the hell did you want a four-foot tall giraffe for?’

‘Souvenir, of course!’

‘Couldn’t you have found something a little smaller?’

‘You were there, what else could I have grabbed?’

‘Uh… nothing.’

‘I rest my case.’

‘Not ‘nothing else’, you idiot. I meant you could have not grabbed anything.’

‘Then, what souvenir would I have? And you’re calling
me
stupid?’ Vince sighed.

Both men were similar in appearance; they were in their late twenties and had short brown hair — although Scott’s had some natural curl. Vince was slightly taller and the more muscular of the two — and he certainly had a shorter fuse.

Their unregistered cell phone rang and Vince picked it up. He held the phone away from his ear as a torrent of abuse flooded the airwaves. When he heard a small break in the yelling, he returned the phone to his ear.

‘Take a breath and calm down will you!’ Vince spoke slowly but deliberately.

Immediately, Vince pulled away from the phone as the voice on the other end exploded again. He looked over to his partner and shrugged his shoulders as the person on the phone ranted on.

‘Who is it?’ Scott asked.

‘The idiot guy who wanted his Ferrari torched as a favor,’ Vince said, holding his hand over the mouthpiece.

Tired of listening to the one-sided conversation Vince butted in: ‘Shut the fuck up and listen to me. Number one —
when we took the job on, I told you we were not to have any further contact, which means that you were not to call me again. Number two — what do we care if the cops think that you did it? I assume you have an iron-clad alibi like we discussed! Number three — we did make it look like a pissed off ex taking revenge. And number four — I refer you back to number one — don’t call me again!’ He hung up and went back to bickering with his partner.

‘So Einstein, what are we gonna do about the boy, he’s seen our faces and witnessed the burn.’

‘How the hell should I know? You were the one that grabbed him.’

Vince thought for a moment, and then said matter-of-factly, ‘The obvious thing is… he needs to have an accident.’

Scott looked at him incredulously. ‘You want to kill him?’

‘Well, what else do you suggest?’

‘I don’t know; but one thing’s for sure, I’m not gonna kill anyone!’

‘Way to go with the great solution! This kid could fuck up our entire business, and all you can say is
I don’t know
?’

‘Well, grabbing him wasn’t the smartest thing to do, was it?’

‘Would you rather have a kid who knows what we look like running around free? What’s done is done, I took control of the situation right there and then, and now I’m telling you what we should do next.’

‘I think you’re better suited to taking orders not giving them, GI Joe,’ Scott goaded.

‘One term, I did one term. And besides, weren’t you the one who said he was happy with all the experience I brought back with me.’

‘Yeah, I guess it’s been helpful; but come on, there has to be a better solution than murder,’ Scott protested.

Vince started to think about his time in Iraq, but his thoughts were quickly interrupted by the shrill chirp of the mobile.

Thinking that it was the guy with the char-grilled Ferrari again, Vince grabbed the phone.

‘What?’ he snarled into the mouthpiece. Within a couple seconds of listening, he changed his tone.

‘Yes, we may be able to help you with your problem, Mr. Tims.’

‘Yes, that’s fine. Shall we meet at the usual place? How does tomorrow night sound?’ He paused as he listened to the voice on the other end.

‘Great, look forward to seeing you there.’

‘Looks like we’ve got another job,’ he said to his partner.

Still not sure what to do with the kid, they decided to postpone their decision until they got back from the meeting the next day. That just left the question of what they were going to do with him for the next twenty-four hours. They hadn’t spoken to the kid since they’d grabbed him and put him in the back seat of the car; so they decided it was time to find out some more about him. After a quick discussion about what the best course of action was, they took a sedative from the bathroom cupboard in case he flipped out, and from the kitchen, a glass of water and a new roll of duct tape, and then went towards the back room. 

They’d only looked in on the boy once since they’d returned home and locked him in the spare room. They’d emptied his pockets in search of any type of ID, and not surprisingly, all they found was a door key, some loose change, and a Playstation PSP. So, for a while they listened at the door for any signs of movement – they were new to the world of child abduction. Hearing no signs of life coming from the room, and with a hint of trepidation, they opened the door and entered the room. Still bound and blindfolded, the boy was curled up on the single bed in the fetal position facing the wall. Compared to the men, he looked so frail and small, and both of them wondered what the hell they were doing.

The boy must have sensed company because he curled up tighter.

‘It’s okay, we’re not gonna hurt you,’ Scott said.

He turned his covered face towards them, but his body remained still.

‘Come on, sit round,’ Scott continued, and put his hand on the kid’s shoulder. The boy flinched and ducked his head back down.

‘Really kid, we’re not gonna hurt you,’ he said pulling his hand away. ‘Just sit up; we want to talk to you.’

The boy paused for a few moments, seeming to consider their words before choosing to slowly and uncomfortably uncoil.

‘That’s right; do you want to stand up for a moment and stretch your legs?’ Vince offered.

Like a blind man, the kid turned his face towards him. Scott ripped the duct tape from his mouth and Joshua cried out in pain.

‘Sorry,’ Scott said, ‘but we need to talk to you.’

Joshua rubbed his mouth, then asked timidly, ‘Can I take this off now?’ he had raised his bound hands to the blindfold.

‘No wait!’ Both the men snapped loudly.

The boy immediately winced.

‘Not just yet, is what we were trying to say,’ Scott followed with in a softer tone.

‘Look, just sit back down on the bed; we want to talk to you.’

The boy sat down. They waited a moment for him to settle before Scott began.

‘What’s your name?’ he asked softly.

‘Joshua,’ the kid replied curtly.

‘Joshua who?’ Scott continued.

‘Costello.’

‘Okay Joshua Costello. Do you know where you are?’

The boy nodded slowly.

Shocked Vince started, ‘How do you…?’ 

‘Where do you think you are?’ Scott butted in.

‘The house of a couple of pervo’s.’

Both men smiled at each other.

‘That’s a new one for the books. We’re not perverts, but we have been described as very bad men.’

‘What do you want me for then?’ the boy probed.

‘We’re the ones asking the questions,’ Vince snapped.

Scott gave him an evil stare.

‘We need to find out a bit more about you before we can let you go,’ Scott said continuing to talk softly.

‘You gonna let me go?’ Joshua asked quickly.

‘In good time. First, you’ve been in here a while, do you need to use the bathroom?’

Joshua nodded, so Scott untaped his legs and escorted him across the hall and stopped him in front of the toilet bowl.

‘Don’t try anything stupid,’ Vince snarled as he followed behind them both. ‘I’m right here’ 

Once finished, Scott ushered Joshua back to the room, and when he was sitting comfortably back on the bed, Scott went on to ask Joshua a few more questions.

Inadvertently, they had assumed the roles of good cop and bad cop. Unfortunately, Vince, the bad cop, just made the kid clam up. Knowing that he wasn’t being very helpful and feeling suitably chastised by the dark looks he was getting from his friend, Vince decided to back out of the room as questions about where the boy lived and who he lived with were put to him. Before leaving, he watched the interaction, impressed at how at ease the kid was with his colleague, and how openly he answered his questions.

A short while later, and satisfied that he’d gleaned all the information he was after, Scott patted the Joshua on the leg and told him to lie back down for a moment. He needed to talk to his friend. He exited the room and locked the door behind him.

‘The kid lives with his mother over in Van Ness. The father is nowhere to be seen, skipped town very early in the piece.’

‘What does the mother do? Don’t suppose she’s the daughter of some incredibly wealthy family?’ Vince asked.

‘Waitress.’

‘That figures. Our first kidnapping and we end up with a snotty-nosed poor kid.’

Scott smiled at Vince’s joke.

‘Well, he’s really no use to us at all then! Let’s drug him up and keep him quiet ‘til tomorrow. Then we’ll work out how to get rid of him.’ Vince suggested.

Scott agreed and they both went back in the room.

Joshua lifted his head as they entered the room.

‘Can I go now?’

‘Not exactly, we need to talk it over for a bit longer.’

While he was speaking, Vince checked the boy’s restraints and he noticed that the tape had been bitten.

‘Now kid, this isn’t very nice.’ As he spoke, he lifted the boy’s hands up to show his partner.

‘I’m going to re-tape your hands and I’d better not see any more of this nonsense.’

He tore strips of duct tape off the roll and wrapped them around the kid’s hands. Then he checked the tape on the kid’s legs; they looked fine, but he wrapped the new tape around a few times for good measure. Once finished, he stood back and let Scott talk.

‘We’ll be in the other room talking; will you do me a small favor and sit tight here for me?’

Joshua nodded.

Scott dropped the sedative into the water and got Joshua to drink the whole contents of the glass. Then, both men left the room to watch the tube.

The next day passed relatively slowly. Aside from going out for provisions, they effectively stayed around the house bickering like a married couple, and every few hours checking in on Joshua. Thankfully for them, Joshua had remained quiet and easy-going all day. They had fed him and talked a little, but mainly left him alone in his room. When it came close to the time to meet their contact, Scott gave Joshua another sedative and told him they’d be in the other room watching TV and discussing his release. In reality, they switched on the tube and upped the volume as cover while they slipped quietly out of the house.

They had arranged to meet their contact at the usual place, a bar and diner called The Fireman’s Lift in West Hollywood. The bar was owned by an ex-LAFD chief and was a hot spot for both firemen and local businessmen. Years ago, Vince had heard of its impending opening and managed to get an invite; they’d enjoyed many a night there ever since. The bar had a great feel about it; from the moment you entered the room, you felt all warm inside. Furnished in dark and light woods framed with highly polished brass fittings and rails, the bar took up the entire left side of the room. Two levels of booths took up the right side with additional tables creeping across the dance floor towards the bar. One of the largest features in the room was the DJ box. It was a full size replica of the front of a fire truck, complete with flashing lights. Either side of the truck were Fireman’s poles, which on drunken nights were used by the guys to climb up and slide down but more often than not were commandeered by  girls to pole dance on.