Misery Bay: A Mystery (19 page)

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Authors: Chris Angus

Tags: #Crime, #Fiction, #Thrillers

BOOK: Misery Bay: A Mystery
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Kitty was close to feeling panicky at his touch. Why the hell was there no one else around? Still, this was clearly an opening she hadn’t expected. He was actually telling her he could introduce her to a high-end clientele, the crème de la crème of the escort services. She needed to play along. Garrett would be proud of her if she uncovered something like this.

“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “It’s kind of an interesting idea. How would I go about it?”

Lloyd leaned back. He nodded at the tape recorder. “Turn that off and we’ll talk,” he said.

29

G
ARRETT MET LONNIE ON THE
Halifax waterfront. It was the first chance they’d had to talk since his cousin had rescued Ayesha and Lila from Big Margaret’s clutches and delivered them home again.

They were in a tiny greasy spoon off Barrington Street. Very greasy. A Louisiana oil spill. But Lonnie liked the place for some reason. He was already seated in a booth, looking like a Tonka truck, holding an ironware coffee mug in his ham-sized grip.

“Better not hold that thing too tight or it will pop,” Garrett said, as he squeezed in opposite his cousin.

“Hate these things,” Lonnie said. “Look at the size of this finger hole. What kind of normal finger is going to fit into something like this?”

Garrett stared at him. “Normal? Your finger is almost as big around as my wrist. You’re lucky they let you sit in this booth. You probably exceed the provincial weight standard for booth patrons.”

“Anyone check on Ayesha since I left her at home?” Lonnie asked.

Garrett shook his head. “Haven’t had time, though Lila and Sarah may try to scope her out when her father isn’t around.”

“The man didn’t take kindly to my delivering his daughter back to him. Like the girl even being in the presence of any man outside her family was a scandal.”

“Yeah, that’s part of the cultural thing, or so Sheila tells me,” said Garrett. “You’re lucky he didn’t pop you one by way of thanks for rescuing her.”

Lonnie looked at him like he was nuts. He could have bench-pressed three men the size of Ayesha’s father. “I didn’t tell him anything about where the girls were—not that I had the chance. He just pulled her inside and slammed the door. So if Ayesha manages to keep quiet about it, he probably won’t know anything about Big Margaret.”

Garrett nodded. “Let’s hope. If he ever finds out what really happened, I suspect that poor girl could face a real beating … or worse.”

“So what’s going on with Madame Liu? We going to turn that place upside down or what?”

Garrett drank some coffee. It was black and heavy and made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Several longshoremen came into the diner and took seats at the counter. They eyed Lonnie cautiously and spoke in low voices. Everyone in this part of town knew who Lonnie was.

Garrett filled him in on his current thinking about a possible prostitution ring. Lonnie listened intently. He hated pimps. It was part of his upbringing, and while his grandmother, if she were still alive, would not have been happy to know how her grandson made his living, Lonnie’s surprising moral streak was especially in evidence when it came to pimps.

When Garrett was through, Lonnie grunted. “So we’re just going to leave those sweethearts alone?”

“For a while. I want to pull on some loose ends. See what turns up. You want to help?”

“Sure. My boss loves it when I disappear for a week to spend time with pimps.”

“I didn’t know you had a boss. Thought you said you were some kind of freelancer.”

Lonnie tilted his massive head. “I use the term loosely. Most of my work is political. Guys who employ me don’t want to know what I really do. They just pay me to solve their problems.”

Garrett raised a hand. “Don’t tell me another word. I don’t want to know either. I’m going to look into this whole pile of dung some more. Why don’t you follow Lloyd around for a while? See what he does with his free time.”

“Okay.” Lonnie looked at his watch. “So when’s whatshisface gonna get here?”

Before Garrett could reply, the door opened and a man walked in looking about as out of place as one could in this part of town. He wore a thousand-dollar double-breasted suit, wing-tip shoes, and polarized lenses that he swept off before closing the door behind him, so he could see into the gloomy interior. His hair was flawless, his shave the same, and Garrett would have bet he had a hundred-dollar manicure.

The newcomer saw them and walked the length of the diner counter, glancing uneasily at the men there, and slipped into the booth next to Garrett. There was no room next to Lonnie.

Garrett shook his hand and said to Lonnie. “This is Louis Liotino. He works in the firm of Wanbolt, Hartless, and Noseworthy. Lou, say hello to my cousin, Lonnie.”

“Christ, Garrett, your cousin? You sure don’t look anything alike.”

“I’ve got a better personality too,” Garrett said. “You want coffee or anything?”

Liotino shook his head. “Had lunch already and it took me half an hour to find this … establishment. Look, I owe you, Garrett, I know that, and I pay my debts, but sitting in here just about evens the score.”

Lonnie’s face was expressionless. He disliked high-powered attorneys almost as much as pimps. Didn’t see much difference between the two.

Garrett nodded. To Lonnie he said, “Lou’s firm represents Global Resources, one of ExxonMobil’s partners in the Sable Offshore Energy Project. I asked him to meet us here to talk about one of Global’s rigs.”

“The one you visited,” Lonnie said.

“Don’t know what you’re into, Garrett,” said Liotino, “or how much I can tell you. But go ahead. Fire away.”

“Kind of curious,” Garrett said. “I spent the night on one of your rigs, the one closest to shore here off Lighthouse Point.”

Liotino raised an eyebrow. “They’re not my rigs. We just represent the company. But I wouldn’t mind knowing how the hell you pulled that off. I’ve never been allowed to visit. And I gather it’s a pretty popular place amongst company high-rollers.”

“I dropped by … uh … unexpectedly. Rig was closed down for the hurricane but the three guards pretty much had to let me stay. I saw maybe a dozen rooms that looked like something out of Club Med. Huge beds, mirrored ceilings, private bars and balconies. High-end stuff. Kind of wondered if you knew anything about it.”

Lou studied his hands. “Global’s our biggest client, Garrett. And they’re not in too good a mood right now. Yields for natural gas have been declining. The province has taken a hit too. Windfall royalties are off nearly 70 percent from two years ago. What you’re asking is privileged information.”

“Why I’m wining and dining you in this fine establishment. Give you a chance to even the score between us. You didn’t think I was going to ask for the name of your tailor, did you? I already sort of have an idea about this, Lou. I just want confirmation. Because the only reason I can think of for an offshore rig to have accommodations like that is for special customers.
Very
special customers.”

Lou sighed. “You’ve been in this business too long, Garrett. Thought you were going to retire.”

“I am. This is sort of my last hurrah, you might say. You know the sorts of things I investigate. Just tell me if I’m wasting my time.”

Liotino looked at the greasy counter where the other men sat. It seemed to remind him where he was and he eased his hands back so his suit cuffs wouldn’t touch the table surface. “Like I said, Garrett, I’ve never been invited. But you hear things … around the water cooler, you know?”

“What sort of things?”

“Shit. If I tell you this, you got to swear no one ever finds out where the information came from.”

“All right.”

Liotino looked at Lonnie. “Him too.”

Lonnie nodded once, said nothing.

“Okay. Global has a side business. A few of their oil rigs around the world have the special accommodations you mentioned. It’s a sweet deal. The rigs are outside territorial waters, so what goes on is pretty much out of bounds to legal authorities.”

“And what goes on?”

“They bring special clients in—usually from countries that are interested in purchasing one of their state-of-the-art oil rigs. Executives from Colombia, South Africa, Argentina, as well as from the Middle East. Part of the sales pitch involves a few nights’ stay at the high-end rigs, where they are treated to … well, you know what they are treated to.”

“All the freebies they want,” Lonnie said quietly. He put his hands on the table and levered himself out of the booth. Garrett noticed that the metal stretch band on his watch was stretched out almost to its maximum to accommodate his enormous forearms. “Gotta go. Job for one of the politicians. Then I’ll latch onto Mr. Exhibitionist. Let me know when you need me, Gar.”

He lumbered toward the door, filling the available space between the wall and the counter stools, and that was after the men on the stools all cringed away from him.

Lou shook his head, watching him go. “Not the sort of guy you want to meet late at night outside a bar,” he said.

“More than you know,” Garrett replied. “Any idea where the pimps who run Global Resources get their girls?”

“Christ, Garrett. You can’t call the CEO of one of the biggest oil franchises in the world a pimp.”

“Never heard a better word for it. You know anything about the ages of the girls involved?”

Liotino looked sick. “You’re not going to believe me if I tell you they’re all over twenty-one, are you?”

Garrett just stared at him.

Lou leaned in closer and said in a low voice, “It’s the young girls, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen-year-old virgins that these foreign guys like. They don’t want to have to worry about getting social diseases. Each girl is only used once. Then they ship them on to an escort service somewhere.” He sat back. “Pretty sweet deal. Unspoiled goods. Guaranteed fresh and clean.”

Garrett shook his head. “Good thing Lonnie didn’t hear that. What I’d like to know is how you can be aware something like this goes on and not want to do something about it?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Not my business. Besides, everyone thinks solicitors are nothing but pimps anyway. I just try to keep my own nose clean.”

“A moment ago you were complaining that you’d never been invited to one of the special rigs. Kind of sounded like you’d go if you got the opportunity.”

“What do you want from me, Garrett? I told you what you wanted to know. I have to go. I’ve got another appointment.”

Garrett put his hand on Lou’s arm. “All right, thanks for the information. But I’m not cool about your involvement.”

“Christ, Garrett! I’ve got nothing to do with it.”

“Far as I’m concerned anyone who knows about this is complicit. One thing. I hear a whisper that you warned anyone at Global about this, you’ll be taking the fall along with everyone else.”

Liotino stared at Garrett like he was a crazy man. “The fall? Christ, Garrett, you have any idea how powerful these people are? Believe me, you go after them, I won’t have to worry about you at all. You’ll be spending the rest of eternity encased in cement in the footing of an oil rig in the middle of the ocean.”

He stood up, straightened his jacket, and looked at the men at the counter. “Been nice knowing you.” He walked quickly past the men and out the door, turning the doorknob with just two fingers to avoid any contaminants it might hold.

30

G
ARRETT’S CELL PHONE RANG WHILE
he was still in the diner. He was careful about who he gave his number to, so there were only a handful of possibilities. Tuttle was at the top of the list, but it didn’t sound like him at all. It was Sarah.

“You had a kind of funny call from Kitty Wells,” she said.

“Funny as in hilarious?”

“No. As in worrisome.”

He was silent.

“She wanted to get a message to you, and I’d given her my number.”

“What’s the message?”

“She said she could only talk for a minute. That she was closing in on something substantial regarding Lloyd. Maybe a big break in what happened to those girls who were killed. She sounded pretty excited … wired, you know? She said she was going to meet some people and then she’d call again. That’s it.”

He swore. “She say anything at all about where she was going?”

“Nope. And it sounded like she was really in a hurry. She hung up very suddenly.”

Annoying as he found Kitty, Garrett felt a degree of responsibility. She was a reporter and followed where leads took her, but she had no idea what she was getting into by playing Lloyd. And he knew she was playing him. Using her sex as a lure, as she did with every man she met who wasn’t a relative or gay.

Only Lloyd wasn’t every man.

Still, there wasn’t much he could do with the information he had. Kitty had said they were going to meet someone, so they probably weren’t going to be at Ecum Secum’s Haven for Troubled Youth.

“I’m coming back tonight,” he said.

“You don’t think they could have gone to Halifax?”

“Anything’s possible, but the only place I can think to look is Ecum Secum. Maybe someone there knows something about Lloyd’s whereabouts. The kids I met didn’t seem to have any hesitation in squealing on Lloyd if they could.”

“I’ll meet you,” Sarah said. “Can you be there by seven-thirty?”

He hesitated, trying to think of some way to dissuade her, but knew it was hopeless. Besides, he wanted to see her. It seemed as though every time they got together, something interrupted them: Tom needing help, the girls’ disappearance, then their reappearance, the dead girl on the island. He was feeling in strong need of her company.

There was silence on her end of the line. Then she said, “I know. I miss you too. We better get some quality time together soon, Gar, or I’m going to have to jump the first man I see—oh my god!”

“What?”

“I just saw Roland turn onto the wharf. Listen. He doesn’t count, okay?”

Garrett smiled. He could think of some ways to spend quality time as well. “What’s he doing?”

“Oh, I don’t know. He’s always moving fishing gear around or looking for tourists to gouge somehow.”

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