White Collar Blackmail

  “All right, you can use the boat but make damn certain you don’t get caught.”

  “Oh, I won’t get caught. I never have. After this is over, I’m coming back to New York to work with you. Dirk is more than capable of running Chicago, and he won’t fuck up like Elliot did.”

  “What are you talking about? I don’t need you.”

  Borchard sneered. “You will. You won’t have Elliot to do your dirty work, and besides, you’re getting old and it’s time you thought about retiring.”

  Becker flushed with anger. “You’re not even close to being ready to run an organization this size. You might never be.”

  “I could already run it better than you are.” Borchard laughed. “In six months’ time you’ll be superfluous. You’re slipping, Dermott. It’s better that you get out now while you still can. I’d hate to see you go the same way as Elliot.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “Am I? Call it what you like. You knew this day was always going to come. We’ll talk again after I’ve cleaned your mess up,” Borchard said, noisily shoving his chair back as he got up.

  Chapter 57

  It was a two block walk to the south to the popular restaurants and a one block walk to the north to a greasy hamburger shop. Todd chose the latter, and as they left Vanessa’s building, he scanned the street looking for the Chevy, breathing a little easier when there was no sign of it. He was jumpy and walked close to the curb in the beam of car headlights rather than in the shadows of buildings. It was drizzly, and the street was quiet, quieter than Todd liked, and he paused when they reached a short section that was in total darkness. When he saw the headlights of three cars behind them, he said, “Come on,” and they walked briskly toward a flickering street light on the other side of the road. It had taken less than five minutes to reach Joe’s Burgers but for Todd it seemed like an eternity. It was warm, and the smell of hamburgers and steak on the grill was overpowering. They sat in a cubicle where Todd could see the door and the street. “We should have sent out for pizza,” he said.

  “You can’t hide forever. It’s not as if they’re going to seize you off the street.”

  “They’re capable of anything. I just wish I knew why they followed me to the prison today. They’ve never done that before. All I can think of is the phone but how would they have found out?”

  Their server introduced herself as Joan and said that the special was rib eye was on special and was excellent. Vanessa ordered it while Todd opted for a cheeseburger.

  “One cheeseburger? You’re too worried to eat. You’ve done more than enough,” Vanessa said. “The FBI had nothing before your information,” Vanessa said, reaching across the table and squeezing his hand. “You can’t go back to your apartment.”

  Todd gave a feeble laugh. “All my clothes are there and without them I’m going to be stinky in a few days’ time. Can you live with that?”

  “When you tell Chas Grinich that you’re out, give him the keys to the apartment, and he can get his men to get your stuff.”

  “I wish it was that easy.” Todd sighed. “Grinich is not going to let me out, and if he doesn’t, I’m staring at eight years hard time. Even if he does, and the Mr. Bigs aren’t locked up, I’ll still be in danger and so will you. I’ll stay at your place tonight, but then I’ll have to find somewhere else.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe the FBI will put me in a safe house.”

  “You might as well be in jail. You’ll have no freedom.”

  “I know. I know. Finish your coffee and let’s get out of here.”

  The drizzle had stopped but the sidewalk was still wet, and Todd put his arm tightly around Vanessa’s waist. “You know I always dreamed about you,” he said, “but was too scared to ask you out. I’m no hero, you know.”

  “Why?”

  “I just thought I was batting out of my league I suppose,” Todd said with a weak grin.

  “And now?”

  “I’m still batting out of my league, but I love you. That’s why you’ve got to take Doug Lechte’s advice. It’s not your problem, and if they catch you, God knows what they’ll do. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you.”

  “Have you ever thought that I might love you?”

  “Hoped,” Todd replied. “Do you?”

  “I don’t know. There are times when I think I do. I don’t like it when you put yourself down and say things like ‘I’m no hero’. What you’re doing takes a lot of courage. I don’t know why you sell yourself short?”

  “I don’t want to disillusion you, but I’m doing this because I have no choice. If I wasn’t facing eight years, do you think I’d be helping the FBI? No way! I spend half my time at the club living in fear. I’m not selling myself short. It’s true. I’m no hero.”

  “I don’t think you know what heroic means,” Vanessa said, stopping and looking into Todd’s eyes. “It means being scared, in your case terribly scared, but still doing what you have to in spite of the fear.”

  Todd felt better, but was still alert, glancing over his shoulder and looking for the Chevy while Vanessa was talking. As they neared the small section that was in total darkness, Todd looked around for the headlights of cars. The flickering streetlight on the corner of the alley flashed light every thirty seconds or so, and Todd steered Vanessa toward it. He paid no attention to the black Camry parked on the street and didn’t see the dark blue one parked down the alley.

  Dirk Vaughan moved out of the alley like greased lighting and held an ether-soaked cloth over Vanessa’s mouth. Todd turned to see a mountain of a man before losing consciousness. Farik and Ahmet dumped them in the trunk of the dark blue Camry.

  “Find their phones,” Vaughan said.

  “Here,” Farik said, passing two phones to Vaughan.

  Vaughan then carefully searched Todd and Vanessa again.

  “Don’t you trust me?” Farik growled.

  “You can’t be too careful,” Vaughan replied, removing the batteries from the phones before giving them and the casings to Ahmet in the black Camry. “Get rid of them in four separate bins.”

  Borchard hadn’t moved from the black Camry. “Dirk,” he shouted, “she lost a shoe. Pick it up. Don’t leave any trace.”

  By the time Vaughan got back to the trunk, Vanessa was bound and gagged. “Hurry up, Farik,” he said, as the huge man tied Todd’s ankles.

  “The girl is like something out of Playboy.” Farik leered.

  “In a few hours’ time you’ll be fucking her.” Vaughan grinned. “After me that is.”

  When Todd came to, he was disoriented but it didn’t take long for him to realize he was in the trunk of a moving car. He could feel Vanessa next to him and the only thing he could see was her luminous watch. It was 8:25, thirty-five minutes since they’d left the hamburger shop. He tried to shout, without success and then he felt Vanessa stirring.

  The last place that Dermott Becker wanted to be on Sunday night was the Hamptons. As he looked out at the Manhattan skyline from his seventy-fifth story penthouse, he pondered the threats that Borchard had made. The Serbian thug was moving back to New York for one reason, and that was to take over the whole organization. The mistake of letting him in as a shareholder was coming home to roost. He was too violent and what he was doing tonight would bring the full weight of the FBI down on them.

  Becker felt exposed and knew that the FBI would have almost certainly tracked him via Jack Elliot’s cell phone but what evidence did they have? None! It was only Borchard and his violent actions that were likely to bring him down. The unsophisticated thug had even said that he was going to kill Jack Elliot for making the mistake of employing the accountant. Elliot had made a serious mistake, no doubt about that, but Becker didn’t think he deserved to die. Besides, Elliot was only one of only a handful of people that Becker trusted and was vital to the New York operation. Becker picked up the keys to his wife’s town car, put the prepaid cell phone that he’d bo
ught the prior day in his jacket pocket and took the private elevator to the parking garage. He would destroy the phone after making just one call and sending one text to a number that very few people had.

  Twenty minutes later, Becker stopped in a quiet Brooklyn street and made the call.

  “Max Lustig speaking.”

  “You don’t know me, but two of your young friends are in serious trouble.”

  “Who is this? How’d did you get my number?”

  “I don’t have much time. Do you want to hear what I have to say?”

  “Go on.”

  Two minutes later Lustig said, “How do you expect anyone to find the boat?”

  “It has a GPS tracker that can’t be deactivated. I’m texting you the details.”

  “How do you know all this? Why are you telling me? Why don’t you call the police? What do you expect me to do?”

  Becker didn’t reply. Instead, he laughed and hit the end button. He had avoided competing against Max Lustig for thirty years because he believed the transport tycoon was connected. He was about to find out if he was right.

  Chapter 58

  It was a moonless night, and the two Camrys stopped in the shadows of the jetty hidden from CCTV. Vaughan flicked open the trunk and held an ether-soaked cloth over Todd and Vanessa’s noses. Then he removed their gags and untied their bindings. Ahmet lifted Vanessa from the trunk and put her under his arm like he was helping a drunk to walk. Farik did the same with Todd and a few minutes later they were onboard the Sea Folly.

  “Gag and tie them up in the galley,” Borchard said. “Farik, drive the car they were in, to a quiet place and set it on fire. Make sure you destroy it. Ahmet, follow him. Don’t be long and when you get back, park away from the marina. Dirk, get the boat ready to go. The longer we’re here, the more exposed we are.”

  The Sea Folly was a sixty-five-foot, luxuriously fitted-out cabin cruiser with a runabout at the stern. Vaughan removed the moorings, kicked the massive Mercury engines over and raised the anchor. Twenty-five minutes later the two giants, both gasping for breath, climbed aboard, and Vaughan eased the boat away from the jetty. There was a small bar in the galley, some bar stools, a long white four seat sofa, two matching chairs, a built-in dining table and half a dozen padded, wooden dining chairs. Todd and Vanessa hadn’t come around and were gagged and bound to two of the dining chairs.

  Looking around the spectacular boat, Borchard said, “What a waste,” to no one in particular, and then, “Farik, go upstairs and tell Dirk to anchor about four miles out. Then he can join us.”

  “Do you want me to wake them, boss?” Ahmet asked.

  “We’ve got all the time in the world,” Borchard replied, picking up the baseball bat and smacking it into his hand. “You can remove the gags but let ‘em sleep. After all, it’ll be their last.”

  The engines cut out, and they heard the anchor being lowered. A few minutes later Vaughan came down the stairs. “Did you check the runabout?” Borchard asked.

  “It’s fine, and it’s got plenty of fuel.”

  “Good. We’ll torch this thing when we’ve finished. We don’t want to leave any evidence.”

  “You’re going to burn this boat? You can’t be serious. What’s Becker gonna do?” Vaughan asked.

  “Don’t worry about Becker. He’s yesterday’s man. We’re taking over, and we don’t need a boat like this.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  “Ain’t that the truth. Dirk, we’re not parked in a shipping lane or anything stupid like that are we?”

  “We’re moored about three miles offshore,” Vaughan replied. “No one’s gonna hear or trouble us.”

  Todd moaned and slowly came around. His arms and wrists were strapped to the arms of a chair, and his ankles were bound to its legs. “Wha-what is this?”

  The man he feared was standing in front of him shouting. He had a baseball bat in his right hand that he was smacking into the palm of his left hand.

  “Oh, I think you know what it is, kid. It’s called getting caught snitching to the cops.” Borchard snarled. “Now I want to know who you told and what you told them. You can tell me and I’ll put a bullet in your head. You’ll die without pain. Or you can fuck me around, and you’ll die in agony. Who’s your contact at the FBI?”

  Vanessa slowly opened her eyes. “Miss America.” Borchard sneered. “I promised the boys they could have some fun with you. You’re gonna love it.”

  “Leave her al−”

  Todd never got another word out before Borchard’s left hand crashed into his cheek nearly knocking the chair over. “Shut the fuck up. I’m gonna ask you again. Who’s your contact at the FBI? You know, the one who gave you the phone to switch.”

  “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Dirk, get me the pliers,” Borchard said. “Listen to me, kid. They say that having a fingernail pulled out is more painful than having your nuts crushed. Can you believe that? If you don’t start talking, you’re gonna be able to tell us because you’re gonna experience both. What’s his name?”

  “I don’t−”

  “Dirk, hold his hand down flat,” Borchard said and clamped the pliers around Todd’s thumbnail and slowly pulled.

  Todd had never experienced pain like it before and mercifully blacked out.

  Blood gushed from Todd’s thumb, and Vanessa screamed. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “You bastards! You bastards!”

  “Wake him up, Dirk,” Borchard shouted.

  Vaughan started slapping the sides of Todd’s face, and he opened his eyes. His thumb was throbbing with excruciating pain and there was blood everywhere.

  “Who’s your contact?” Borchard asked.

  “Chas-Chas Grinich,” Todd said through clenched teeth

  “Better,” Borchard said, the baseball bat back in his right hand. “That wasn’t so hard was it? How did you get the phone?”

  “I-I go to Castlebrough ever sec-second Sunday. Grin-Grinich has been driving the taxi.”

  “Slimy bastard. That’s how he did it. How did you get the messages to him in between Sundays?”

  “I-I did-didn’t. It was only Sun-Sundays.”

  “Give me the pliers, Dirk.”

  “You might not need them,” Vaughan replied, ripping off Vanessa’s blouse. Then he grabbed her bra and stretched it until the clips gave away.

  “No, no,” Todd shouted, as Vanessa screamed and tried to pull away from Vaughan’s groping hands.

  “Nice firm tits,” Vaughan said, coupling them in his hands. “I’m gonna enjoy doing you.”

  “I was the contact,” Vanessa said fighting back tears.

  “Now we’re getting somewhere.” Borchard grinned. “Well done, Dirk.”

  Vaughan took his hands off Vanessa’s breasts and slid them up to her neck and face. Her head hardly seemed to move as she bit into his fingers with everything she had.

  “Bitch!” he yelled, drawing back his fist but before he could bring it down Todd rocked his chair into Vaughan’s legs, and they crashed to the ground. The thug was quick to get to his feet, stomping on Todd’s head and then breaking his ribs with a vicious kick.”

  “Get him up,” Borchard said.

  As Ahmet righted the chair Borchard drew the baseball bat back as far as he could and smashed it into Todd’s knees.

  Two of Vaughan’s fingers were bleeding, and he was shaking his hand. “When your boyfriend wakes up, I’m gonna spread-eagle you on that sofa in front of him, bitch. When I’m finished, they’re gonna be next. Farik’s three hundred pounds and he’s big. You’re gonna wish you’d never been born.”

  There was a light bump and Borchard said, “What was that, Dirk?”

  “Nothing. Probably just a buoy. Don’t worry, there’s no one else out here.”

  As Todd’s eyes opened, Borchard said, “Did you tell the FBI about the Deacon woman?”

  “Yes.” Todd gulped.

  “You overheard Elliot threatening her?”


  “Yes.”

  “Fuck, and I thought Elliot was smart. He won’t be far behind you,” Borchard said.

  Vaughan stood behind Vanessa’s chair cruelly gripping her breasts while ordering Farik to cut away the bindings.

  “What are you doing?” Borchard snapped.

  “It’s time for some fun with Miss America,” Vaughan replied, exaggeratedly holding his crotch.

  “Not yet,” Borchard said. “We need to find some chains or weights first. I want them to disappear forever. That means no bodies floating to the surface. You can have your fun after we’re prepared.”

  “Fuck! Farik, get upstairs and have a look in the storage lockers. If you can’t find anything, the larger items will be stored under the deck at the stern. And hurry up. I’m looking forward to getting my hands on hot chocolate,” Vaughan said, leering at Vanessa’s breasts. “On second thoughts try under the deck first.”

  Chapter 59

  There was no light at the stern of the cruiser and Farik fumbled around with a small flashlight looking for access below the deck. The click was almost imperceptible, but Farik’s body thumped to the deck. The suppressor and hollow point bullet had done their job, and Farik’s head exploded like a watermelon explodes when hit by a sledgehammer.

  “What was that?” Borchard asked.

  “Farik thumping around trying to work out how to get below the deck,” Vaughan replied. “Fucking idiot. Ahmet, go and help him.”

  Ahmet could see the beam of the flashlight on the deck and walked toward it saying, “Farik, why are you taking so long? What’s wrong?”

  He gasped when he saw Farik’s headless body but before he could shout the hollow point hit him in the neck just above the spine killing him instantly.

  Tony Lombardi, dressed in all black, climbed down from the top of the flybridge and hid behind the bulkhead at the front of the boat. He knew the next man to come up the stairs would be Borchard’s right-hand man, Dirk Vaughan, and that he would be far more cautious than the two dead members of his gang. About five minutes had elapsed before Vaughan shouted, “Ahmet, Farik, what are you doing? If this is a joke, I’ll have your balls.”