“Please! Explain that to the both of us, Don,” Amir remarked coldly.
“This thug is speaking reckless, hun.”
Amir pulled the trigger. Doris’ leg jumped as the bullet pierced her patella. Her leg was dead before she could let out a murderous screech. “Now this thug is acting recklessly, hun,” Amir joked. “And you know what else, hun?” Amir asked, mockingly, then continued, “Your other knee cap will be shot and I will work on you expertly causing you a slow and very painful death.” He then stared back at Jacobson, “The money was wired and you know where it was wired to. That was a statement, not a question.” Amir paused and decided he’d proceed to Plan B. He pulled out another two photos. He dangled them in front of the Jacobson’s.
“Oh, God! Please do not hurt my children. They are innocent,” Doris spat wearily as she looked at the photo of her daughter posed in front of her job, and the twins at a cafe. She turned to Donald, “If he hurts our babies and I survive this, you can expect a divorce,” she barked clutching her leg to stop the leaky faucet of blood.
Jacobson pondered a moment. How did the man have photos of his children?
“I know you’re pondering,” Amir said, interrupting their thought process. “You’d be surprised at what dirty secrets I found hacking into your office e-mail account.”
“Okay, listen, I only have a third of the money,” Jacobson said.
“Donald, you bastard,” Doris seethed.
“That’s a start,” Amir said. He then motioned for Jacobson to have a seat at his desk and power on the computer. The scared man followed the instructions. “Go online and show me the accounts,” he instructed the man.
As Doris looked on she could not understand what would make her husband steal. This was unbelievable. She wished she could speak to her children. Tell them how much she loved and adored them before she sent them off to some foreign country to be safe from this thug holding her at gunpoint and the thug they called “Donald.” She began knowing he would know she meant business by not calling him Don, “I can’t believe you have been stealing.” “Not right now, Doris,” he hollered over his shoulder as he transferred the money from his and two of his conspirators accounts to an account number furnished to him by Amir.
The name to the third account devastated Amir. He no longer had to ask who Jacobson worked in concert with.
“What do you mean, not right now? I’ve been slapped like a two bit whore and I’m losing blood from a gunshot wound and I may die. Yes, now, dammit!” she said, angrily.
Jacobson completed his transfers. Within three minutes, Amir heard a female voice come over his speakerphone. Lundin confirmed that the new account balance was $15,375,265.48. Two million was included in the balance, which was transferred to the account from Getty Images, whom Lundin sold exclusive rights to publish photos of William Fortune, which they quickly dealt to People Magazine, and by sun-up William’s face should be splashed on the cover of the LA Times and People.
Without a preamble, Amir introduced a hollow-tipped round to Jacobson’s skull. Doris screamed and sobbed uncontrollably. He then sent three silenced shots into the brain of the computer. Without looking at Doris, he strode out of the office and told her, “I’d get tested for AIDS if I were you. He was going to marry his male accomplice.” He then disappeared into the rainy, dark LA day.
CHAPTER 73
“Things have definitely spiraled out of control, Rocky,” Robert Roth said, hoping to stay calm. You have no idea how dangerous I can be.
Detective Rocky Bowman was furious. He had jeopardized everything for money that was suddenly unaccounted for. “Robert, you’ve brought me in on this scheme to kidnap this thug”--he threw a violent pointed finger toward an unconscious William--“and you now say that was all for naught because the money has, as you put it, VANISHED!”
“For Christ sake, Rocky, I’m a banker. I can get the money back manifold.”
“To hell with that. We need to find who killed your reporter friend. That’s who started all of this mess. He can lead us to who stole the money. As far as I know, he has feigned his death, or you two are in cahoots to keep me from my fair share,” Bowman said pacing around the garage looking wickedly at the bound William.
“Don’t be absurd. We brought you in to keep the Secret Service busy while we got the job done. When you stupidly let the wife walk out of a bank with the cash rather than letting me have her arrested, you fucked up then.”
The decorated cop replied, “Your pal was supposed to kill her, you idiot! You let an entertainment reporter meet a damn model agent for one of the top agencies in L-fucking-A, dip-shit. Did it dawn on you that she would recognize his pic from the goddamn byline? Obviously not!” Bowman said, taking a breath. His voice did not soften as he went on. “Your friend ran around using this Prodigy moniker and I’m thinking he was prodigious enough to fool both of us, or a complete idiot. Here I am supposed to be tracking a man, yet, I not only know where he is hidden, I administered lie tests on him and allowed your guy to pump the man with battery acid. And my salary has vanished?!”
Bank manager, Robert Roth paced for a second and brooded. He reflected back to being approached by Nyoka and Donald about the scheme. The two of them wanted to run away and live happily ever after, but they needed to be financially stable. So, Nyoka told Donald of her secret about Justice Lorenzo’s transformation into William Fortune. To confirm her claims, Donald had harassed William one night and even met him in San Francisco. William inadvertently confirmed his true identity to Donald, and he set up the elaborate scheme to take the man’s money. It helped knowing Roth from Club Touch. Donald used Nyoka to get William to the club (as Justice) and set him up with two women for the photos to be sent to Lundin, but he had greedily decided to set-up Nyoka by sending photos of Nyoka and William in hopes that the FBI would arrest her and he could keep the money. She did not get caught; he killed her. Finally he spoke. “You know, even if she did recognize my guy from the column, certainly she did not kill him herself.”
“Okay, maybe she had help. Her husband was deep into the criminal world,” Bowman said, “I’m sure he knew a few good men that his wife could depend on.”
“So, what do we do about this buddy?” Robert asked, smirking.” I have no clue about what you’re going to do. As for me, I am going to be a hero when I turn this fool in,” Bowman said and walked over to William trying to figure out how to arrest him.
“You’re not turning him in from here! This home is mortgaged under my name.”
“That’s your problem...”
“Actually, it’s not,” the quick thinking Roth replied, before cashiering a bullet into the brain of Detective Rocky Bowman.
CHAPTER 74
Outside of the garage, Lundin gripped Amir tightly when the sound of the gunshot blasted in her ears. She gripped her pistol tightly, having an urge to race into the home and heroically rescue William. Only seconds ago, she had circled the secluded Burbank home after following Detective Bowman there from the precinct. Lundin was elated to have recognized the reporter, and equally elated that Amir recognized Detective Bowman’s name amongst the accounts on Jacobson’s computer screen. She could not have thanked Bowman more for his television press conference appearances.
Now as she huddled outside the home, she wondered what to do. William is somewhere inside that house. She knew that. She had heard the entire conversation and was proud of herself for sticking by her husband. Amir tapped her and gave her instructions. She immediately acted.
CHAPTER 75
As if invisible, Lundin floated noiselessly behind her husband’s kidnapper. Robert Roth became aware of her presence, but it was too late. Before he could move, Amir delivered a kidney shifting blow to Roth’s abdomen. Lundin then pressed the barrel into Roth’s temple. He gasped in surprise. Amir pulled out handcuffs and prepped Roth for venomous revenge. Roth’s facial expression begged for forgiveness.
Lundin left Amir to rescue William. She found him unconscious a
nd in bad need of medical attention. Tears burned down her face. She touched her husband’s face lovingly and then kissed his swollen cheek. She whispered into his ear. Sadly, he did not respond. She untied his hands, and removed the straps which bound him to the plywood as she thought about how obscenely Mr. Robert Roth would pay.
CHAPTER 76
Agent Williams stood all by herself outside of the precinct. It was dark. She was desperate. She and half a dozen agents had had another conference and they had been no closer to finding the illusive Justice Lorenzo/William Fortune. She should’ve had the NY-FBI dig deeper before they simply closed the case and allowed the man to get four years deep into his escape.
She had been made to look like a fool and decided to call SAC Lemieux and tell him all about it, but before she could, she was summoned to the phone.
She was very pleased to hear from the caller. It was a voice that she would never forget. The same voice that had awakened her and told her that Justice Lorenzo was on the loose.
”Delia, I am sorry to report that I have solved your crime of the year, of your lifetime. The crime that would’ve made you a legend. I gave you a heads up and you dropped the ball,” Amir said. “I know you’re tracing this call, so let me get straight to the meat and potatoes.”
“When you arrive to this home, you will find your LAPD liaison Detective Rocky Bowman dead. His killer, Robert Roth, is bound and gagged and passed out as a result of some very dangerous torture. It was delicious. Check him for gunpowder, as well as his gun for prints, to confirm that. It’s been bagged and tagged, ma’am. The two of them kidnapped William Fortune and robbed his account. You will find a cell phone on the kitchen table. Just play the only recording under the ‘record’ command and you’ll hear the nefarious two’s very last conversations. I’m sorry to say that Mr. Fortune has been tortured, and before you bludgeon him with questions and an arrest, I will be taking him to rest and heal.”
“Do not do that. He is a very dangerous man. Manipulative and a murderer---”
Amir cut her off. “He’s no murderer. My prints are on the phone to confirm that.”
“Listen to...”
The line went dead.
Delia slouched in her seat accepting that she had been defeated by Justice Lorenzo.
Again!
Rahiem Brooks, CON TEST: Double Life
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