Follow the Evidence (A Mac Everett Mystery Book 2) (18 page)

I was going to die anyway so I did
what anyone else would do. I spit in his face. The blows flew. He used my
midsection like a heavy bag. Punch after punch fell driving the breath from my
lungs. The guy was tough, real tough with two men holding me. This guy was
going to kill me and savor it.

I thought he was coming in for
another body blow, but he held up a switchblade and clicked it open. This was
it. He came at me, the knife in his right hand. I pushed down with both arms,
startling the two guys holding me. Before they could react, I swung my legs up,
coiled at the waist, and kicked out catching my executioner square in the
chest. He grunted as stumbled, falling to the damp pavement, and smacking his
head on the far wall. Most importantly, the knife clattered away into the
darkness. I’d only delayed the inevitable, but I’d won a small victory.

He picked himself up shaking his
head. I’d run his bell.

“Very funny, asshole,” he said as
he got up. “Who the hell are you?”

I tried to suck in some air to
answer, but all I got out was, “…are you?”

“You’ve almost screwed up a good
deal, but now you’re through. This is the last face you’re going to see,” he
growled pointing to himself. He shook his head and the ponytail whipped around.
The guy from the yacht.

Blood from his chin ran down the
front of his shirt.
I hurt him
. He brushed himself off, stretched his
shoulders, and twisted his neck with both hands producing a sickening crunch.
He didn’t even look for the knife. He stroked his ponytail then flipped it
behind him as he came at me again. This time the two monkeys holding me
tightened their grip.

He reared back, winding up for a
knockout blow. As he threw the punch, I juked my head to the right at the last
second. His fist grazed my ear, connected with the wall behind me. He screamed.

“Hold him you assholes or you’re
next,” he shouted shaking out his hand.

“Sorry Mr. Munoz,” one of the goons
mumbled.

The guys holding me slammed me back
against the wall, and then one of them kneed me in the groin. They let go and I
slumped to the street. I heard the rasping sound of my shirt ripping as they
jerked me to my feet by the collar. They held me fast, preparing for the next
assault.

My attacker, nursing his right fist
said, “I’m going to finish you.”

He stepped up to the plate, looked
at me with a crooked smile, and then let me have it. Once, twice, three times
he hit me in the face. My head snapped back and bounced off the bricks behind
me with each punch. A coppery taste filled my mouth. I sensed the blood vessels
bursting, and my nerve endings were blasting out electric shocks of searing
pain. I lost count of the blows as a comforting blackness sounded me. I heard a
far off sound. I tried to fight it, but everything went dark.

Like waking from a five-day bender,
I came around in stages. I heard voices, distant and muffled at first, but then
clearer. I tried to open my eyes but they were welded shut. When I tried to
move my arms, I remembered I hadn’t been asleep.

“Where am I?” I gasped. My voice
sounded more like a frog than a man.

“Easy, Mac, you’re in queue to be
seen at Princess Margaret Hospital. You were mugged, a bloody robbery if you
can imagine.”

Still unable to open my eyes I
searched my brain trying to make out who was talking then I felt the touch of a
hand.

“Madison?”

“I’m here Mac,” she replied.

“How bad…”

“You might have a concussion, a
broken nose and perhaps some cracked ribs. Your face, well you’re not as
handsome as you were, but you’ll heal. You better anyway. I have plans for
you.”

“I can’t open my eyes,” I said,
surprised by the sound of my own voice.

“One is swollen shut and the other
is the caked with blood. They haven’t cleaned you up yet. Patience my dear.”

“What happened? I went outside…”

“A lad from the Quarter Deck, a
waiter, stepped into the alley and saw you getting a thrashing. He called out
and they kicked up their heels. He said there were three of them.”

“Who?”

“He didn’t know them, never saw
them before,” she said. “He was the young man who waited on you, Marcellus. He
gave us some good descriptions.”

I tried to shake my head, but
couldn’t move. Another voice interrupted Madison and said, “Right,
Superintendent, let us be about our work.”

“I’ll be back,” Madison whispered
in my ear. She kissed my cheek and was gone.

“Mr. Everett, I’m Doctor Clarkson.
You’ve had a rough go of it I see but it’s not so bad. A few days and you’ll be
right as rain. You must be important if the Superintendent is here.”

The man was positively bubbly. I
hated him already.

“I’m going to give you a sedative.
When you’re asleep, I’ll examine your nose, set it if necessary, and take care
of those facial lacerations. One or two of them may need sutures. I’ll bind
your ribs, but those are going to take some time to heal I’m afraid.”

“Thanks doc. Get on with it.”

“That’s the spirit,” Clarkson
replied.

“Nurse, will you give him the
injection?”

I felt a pinprick, relaxed then
everything went blank again.

“It’s about time you came round,”
Madison said. “I’ve been waiting for hours, well not that long.”

My eyes fluttered a few times, and
then the woman’s face came into focus.

“Ah…”

“Don’t try to talk,” she said.
Madison came closer and held a straw to my lips. I took a drink. Even though it
was water, it tasted good.

“The good news is your nose isn’t
broken and you didn’t need sutures. Because of your hard American head, no
concussion either. It seems all that is wrong is that your face is banged up
and some bruised ribs.”

“Sorry,” I managed to squeak out.

Doctor says you’ll be fit as a
fiddle in a day or two. He won’t need to admit you to hospital.

“Probably no space,” I said.

“He expects to release you soon.
I’ll wait and take you home with me.” She gave me a lascivious wink.

I tried to smile and nodded, but
both movements hurt.

“Did you get a look at who did this
to you?”

I nodded. “One of the men holding
me called him Munoz?”

“What?” Madison exclaimed. “Are you
sure?”

I nodded. “Laszlo Munoz, ponytail,
and all,” I mumbled.” They were on some big boat in the harbor but didn’t
realize who they were.”

“Did you see the boat’s name?”

I shook my head and immediately
regretted it. “No but the waiter said it was the
Wind Chaser
. It’s the
biggest one in the damn harbor,” I said. “Sergio Sebastian and Munoz were on
the yacht and met some other guy. I watched them from the bar. They could have
been arguing but I’d bet the big guy is the one that set me up”

“I can find out who owns yacht, I’m
sure. Did they say anything to you? Why did they attack you?”

“Slow down…” My head was in a fog.
“Munoz said I was asking too many questions and messing up a good thing. I
guess I’m doing a good job to get worked over like this.”

“You said there were three men on
the yacht. Did you see the third man?”

“It was a long way off in the dark
but I think it was Sergio Sebastian from his picture.”

“What did this third man look
like?”

“He was a big guy, football shoulders;
swaggered when he walked like he was all muscled up. You now stiff like. He had
close cropped hair, a round sort of baby face…”

A black man?”

I nodded.

“Was he wearing slacks and a white
guayabera or a Tommy Bahama?”

“Yeah, I think so. It was a Hawaiian
shirt-flowers on it,” I replied. I didn’t like the look on her face. “I noticed
him because of his size-a big guy. I saw his car too, a black Mercedes
four-door. Who is he?”

She pulled out her phone thumbed
through a few things then turned the screen toward me. “Is this the man?” she
asked with a trembling voice.

“It could be him,” I said. The face
is the right shape and he’s big guy. Who is he?”

She didn’t answer and had this
weird pained look on her face.

“Why do you have his picture?”

She looked at the picture then
whispered, “This is Ian, my former husband.”

I couldn’t tell which of us was
more surprised, but Madison sure had a bigger stake. Learning her ex-husband
was wrapped up with organized crime had to be a shock. I knew she had
questions, but didn’t know where to start.

“When can I get out of here?” I
asked.

“Now, if you like, they were
waiting for you to awaken. Are you ready to go?”

“I guess.”

I really wanted to be in my own
bed, but I guessed being in Madison’s would do.

Madison pushed the call button and
a voice came from a speaking in the wall behind me, “Yes.”

“Mr. Everett is awake,” Madison
replied.

“Thank you. Someone will with you
presently,” the voice replied.

“See,” Madison said.

“Help me up, will ‘ya,” I said.

I threw the sheet off and swung my
legs over the side. I moved way too fast and had to wait for my head to catch
up.

“Easy, you’ve had quite a night.”

I was glad she was there to catch
me. I wasn’t thrilled about nearly falling but landing in those soft breasts
was worth the risk. A few minutes later, I gingerly eased out of a wheelchair
and into the front seat of Madison’s SUV. When we were clear of the hospital,
Madison bombarded me with questions.

“Why did they come after you?”

“That punk Munoz said I was asking
too many questions and was messing up their operation. It’s an occupational
hazard. You have any aspirin at your place?”

“Yes, plenty,” she said. “Did they
ask for you by name?”

“No,” I replied. “I thought it was
Hilton. I should have known better.”

“How did they know you were there?”

“Don’t know that either. Maybe we
should ask your husband.”

“He’s my former husband,” she
insisted. “We can talk about him later. Now I want to know what happened to
you. How did they get you into that alley?”

“That’s my fault. A six-pack of
Coronas tricked me into being stupid,” I replied.

“I don’t understand how they knew
you were here.”

She was still trying to compose
herself.

“I don’t know. The young guy-I think
it’s Sergio Sebastian. He took a phone call just before they left the yacht. My
guess would be that wimp at Palm Harbor, the manager, what was his name…”

“Andrew Bain,” she replied, “I
should have thought of that. He did say Munoz and Sebastian were frequent
customers. I can confirm that with the telephone records.”

“Or I can put a size ten loafer up
his ass,” I fired back. I immediately regretted it.

She scowled and said, “After your
questioning of Mr. Cox, I’ve had quite enough of American cowboy justice.”

“Spoil sport, you’re no fun.”

“There you go again making
erroneous statements contrary to fact. I’m a lot of fun. As long as you don’t
cheese me off…we’re here,” she said as we pulled up to her gated enclave.

When the gate opened, she drove on.

“You texted me earlier, what was
that about?”

“They found Enderby Cox hanging in
his cell,” she said. “He’s dead.”

“Damn!” I said. “Cox said they’d
get him. Do you know if you ex-husband was there or went to Cox’s cell?”

“Internal Branch has pulled the logs.
They’re taking statements now. We’ll find the bugger that did this.”

She hadn’t answered my question. I
was about to ask again, when she pulled into her driveway and said, “Shall we
continue this inside?”

I was in no condition to argue.

Madison helped me stand. When I had
my feet under me, she put her arm around my back, and supported me with one
hand under my left arm as I shuffled into the house. My head was pounding and
each step stole a little of my breath as the bruised ribs grabbed me. It was
awkward but I was feeling well enough to appreciate how good Madison’s breast
felt against my side.

Once inside we went straight to the
living room. She helped me onto the couch and stood looking at me as if she’s
just hung a new painting on the wall.

“You’re a mess,” she said at last.

“Thank you. I try,” I said. “What’s
a guy have to do to get a drink around here?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe take care
of the lady of the house? Do you want something to eat? It’s early. I can still
call Sidney.”

“Naw, just a drink. Will you join
me?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

She went to the sideboard and
poured two double shots of Bourbon over the ice. She gave me one then settled
facing me with her back against the arm of the couch. She raised her glass to
me in silent toast, and then sipped her drink, holding the glass in both hands.

“How’s your ex-husband tied to
this?” I asked. I wanted to get as much from her as I could before the sand ran
out of my hourglass.

She shrugged and looked into her
bourbon.

“Did you report any of today’s
activity to him?”

“I assume you mean snatching Cox up
and getting the vids from Palm Harbor and not last night’s...”

“Give me a break,” I demanded.
“Does your ex-husband know what we’ve learned or not?”

“You don’t think…”

“I don’t think anything, I just
want to know,-did you call him.”

“No but…”

“But what?”

“Sergeant Hitchcock, my aide-he’s
Ian’s man. I thought it curious when he showed up at old Cox’s place. I think
he’s been following me.”

“He monitors police communications,
maybe he heard you on the radio. Have you talked to him or your ex-husband? Do
either of them know you were at the hospital?”

“No-well, I don’t know. I heard the
district officer called in that a tourist attack near the Quarter Deck. I
responded and…”

“And found I’d been overcome by a
near terminal case of stupid, yeah I know. If you found out we have to assume
your ex-husband and your aide know too.”

“Know what?”

“That they didn’t kill me. Munoz
had a knife but didn’t get a chance to use it. Tell me about your
ex-husband-what’s his name.”

“Ian-Ian Todd. What do you want to
know?”

“Give me the rundown on him.”

“He’s forty-two, his parents died a
few years ago. He’s a career BRPF officer. We met at basic training. He’s
ambitious and…”

I didn’t want to get into the
gruesome details of their marriage, but I needed to know who I was up against.

“…and what?”

She got a far off look in her eye.
She wanted to tell me but it was hard. She began slowly but as she spoke, the
words came faster.

“He’s a cold insecure man who’s
never content, and has a pathological fear of being wrong. His self worth is
tied up in his job.”

“How about your relationship?” I
asked.

“When we were first married things
went well, but he would become distant. After a few years, I stopped trying to
draw him out. He had affairs by the dozens, but when I had one, he went crazy.
He gave me a good hiding and told me I was his even if he didn’t want me. Can
you imagine?”

From the way she described him I
imagined he beat her more than once.

“Vices?”

She laughed again then downed her
drink. She got up and raised her empty glass toward me. I shook my head and put
my hand over the top of the glass. She headed back to the sideboard for a
refill.

With her back still to me she
began, “His vices-where do we begin? He gambles a bit. He drinks like a fish.
He has his endless string of women, of course. He spends enormous amounts of
money on God knows what. The worst thing about him is he hates himself. He’s a
scared little boy in a big man’s body. He’s afraid and very, very unhappy.”

She said these last words
deliberately and looked me right in the eye. My sense of her pain sent a shiver
through me.

“Ian and I were married for eight
years. In all that time, I never saw him happy or satisfied with anything, including
me. Ian can always find fault with anyone. I didn’t please him-couldn’t please
him. He didn’t even try to hide his affairs. He’s a bully with insatiable
appetites-food, booze, sex, you name it.” She looked away from me. I could feel
her pain. “He’s used to having his way and he’s not afraid to use his fists.”

I decided to try something else.

“You said he’s Deputy Commissioner?
Is that second in command for the agency?”

“Yes.”

“How do the rank and file officers
feel about him?”

“The officers don’t trust him,” she
said. “He makes himself look good at their expense.”

“It’s that finding fault thing. Not
surprising,” I replied. “He has a big ego, doesn’t he?”

She laughed and nodded.

“How does he get along with his
boss?”

“Commissioner Adair doesn’t
like
anyone. He’s a politician but Ian gets along with him as well as anyone does.”

“Do you know Commissioner Adair?”

“Certainly. He was surprisingly
supportive during the divorce,” she said. “We had dinner a few times.”

She regained her spot at the end of
the couch, tucked her legs under her, and then knocked back some more bourbon.

“It sounds like he took an interest
in you,” I said. “Would he see you on urgent business without asking lot of
questions?”

“It wasn’t like that. As for seeing
me, I don’t know. I supposed it would depend on what…”

“How about if it was about
corruption by a high ranking officer?”

“He would turn it over to Ian.”

“What if the information was about
Ian?”

She swirled her drink and watched
the liquid move as the cube clattered in the glass. I watched her eyes flick
down, and right. I could sense her conflicts.

“What if we showed the commissioner
tonight’s video from the harbor area? Would he be interested that Deputy
Commissioner Todd came to Sebastian’s yacht to meet with Laszlo Munoz and
Sergio Sebastian…?”

“We don’t know its Sebastian’s
yacht,” she objected.

“The name of the damn thing is the
Wind
Chaser
. The one that sank in the hurricane was the
Wind Dancer
.
Sergio Sebastian, whose was supposedly dead has turned up in Miami but was here
on that tub tonight. Who do you think owns the yacht?”

Madison looked up from
contemplating her drink and sat perfectly still. The only movement was the
rising and falling of her chest. Finally, with glistening eyes she mumbled, “I
loved him once. I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You don’t have to. Get me an
appointment with the commish.”

“Our officers secured all the video
from the area for the investigation of your assault case,” she said. “We don’t
know what’s on it yet but that might help.”

“There you go,” I responded. I sat
forward and regretted it as the pain in my side sucked the breath out of me.

“But we don’t know what’s on those
vids.”

“We don’t have to. Your ex-husband
knows he’s on them.”

Her eyes flashed a light of
recognition. “We don’t tell him what we have. We…”

“We make him
think
we have
something big and get him in an interview room. Can you make it happen?”

“I don’t know. Ian is smart and
it’s explosive politically if it goes wrong.”

“It’s political dynamite either
way. If we get Ian to talk, you can take it to the commissioner and calm the
waters. The press still thinks those people were lost at sea. When they find
out Sergio and Hannah London are alive, Jennifer was apparently abducted here
and your husband…”

“Former husband,” she corrected.

“…your ex-husband has a connection
to the suspects…”

“Brilliant-it just could work.”

“Tell me every detail you know
about Ian.”

We talked through four more of
Madison’s double bourbons-about two hours. I nursed one glass. She talked and
drank nonstop while I listened. She broke down a couple times, but pulled it
together to give me something more. Not only was Ian a bully who hit her often
during their marriage but he had a recreational drug habit, he was a dirty cop,
and maybe had been for years. If Madison could get me a crack at him, I knew I
could break him. The question was would the commissioner allow it. I hoped the
guy would agree that there was nothing worse than a dirty cop. Finally,
Madison’s words dried up.

“I don’t think I can talk anymore.”

She leaned back letting her hair
drape over the end of the sofa as she ran her hands through it.

“I’m amazed you can still sit up.
You’ve had the better part of that bottle tonight.”

“Occupational hazard of being
married to Ian, I’m afraid. I got rid of him but I still carry the rubbish.”

“Why don’t you go to bed? We can
reach out to the commissioner in the morning. If it works, it works. If not, I
have another plan to fall back on.”

“What’s the other plan?”

“In the morning,” I insisted. “I
need to turn in and you’re blasted. Let’s call it a night.”

“Care to give me another go?” she
murmured.

“I’m not sure I can stand. My head
and ribs are killing me.”

“Come on Mac, please. You’ll be
leaving soon.”

“Not tonight Madison. I can’t.”

“All right,” she pouted. “You can
sleep in my bed. I’ll take one of the other rooms.”

She stumbled to her feet and
dropped her cut glass tumbler. I wasn’t sure who was worse off.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,”
she said.

“I think I’ll be okay here,” I
replied.

“You’d be more comfortable…”

“I’m fine right here,” I insisted.

“Have it your way,” she said. She
stumbled toward me, leaned in close, and said, “Good night, luv” then laid a
smoldering kiss on me.

What was I thinking?

She put one hand on the back of the
sofa to push herself up. When she was standing, she blew me another kiss,
mouthed good night, and headed for her bedroom.

“Good night, we’ll talk in the
morning,” I called after her, but she didn’t reply.