Authors: John R. Kess
“And you
switched with Belgrade?”
“Yes. He told me
he had seen there was a trip coming up on our flight schedule from Memphis to Baltimore, and he wanted to go there. He asked me about a month before if it
would be okay to switch.”
“Did he say why
he wanted to switch?”
“Yeah, shoot,
what did he say?” Charlie stared down at the table as if searching for an
answer in the grain of the wood. His head popped up. “A brother, that’s it. He
has a brother in the Baltimore area and wanted to go see him.”
Beckholm’s phone
rang and he saw it was Agent West. He quickly thanked Charlie for his time and
excused himself to answer it.
“Whatcha got?”
Beckholm asked as he walked down Charlie’s driveway to his rental car. Nick was
waiting inside.
“They found the
door,” West told him.
“Where?”
Beckholm asked, excited to have some good news.
“Western Montana. According to the FAA field supervisor onsite, at least half of each door
hinge had been ground away.”
“Ground away?”
“They told me
someone made a cut on each door hinge to severely weaken both of them. It was
clear to him that the remaining material yielded and failed when the door
opened in flight.”
“Are you sure?”
Beckholm asked.
“He told me once
he gets the hinges to the lab, he can tell me the diameter of the cutting
wheel,” West said.
“We need a
warrant, and we need it now,” Beckholm said.
“There’s
something else you should know.” West filled Beckholm in on the downed
floatplane reported in Montana. “And get this,” West finished, “the airport
where the floatplane was kept is right on the turboprop’s flight path.”
Beckholm knew
this detail might connect the floatplane to Elly. “How far was the door from
the floatplane?”
“It was found
about a hundred and twenty miles west of the lake where they fished out the
plane. We know Belgrade was licensed through the United States Parachute
Association. We’ve got local law enforcement in Montana trying to track down
the owner of the floatplane to see if it was stolen.”
Beckholm told
West about his interview with Charlie Salo and asked him to check if Michael
Belgrade had a brother in the Baltimore area.
“How is the fuel
search coming?” Beckholm asked.
“We’re working
on it,” West said. “Give me a couple hours, and I’ll get you a name.”
* * *
West was still in
his office at 7:30 PM when Schwartz called him to come to his cubicle. West
nearly ran down the aisle, hoping for some good news. “Tell me you have a
name.”
Schwartz smiled.
“I’ve got that and more.”
“What did you
find?”
“First of all,
Michael Belgrade didn’t have a brother in Baltimore. Belgrade didn’t have any
siblings.”
“Okay. What else
do you have?”
“Two weeks ago,
five hundred gallons of aviation fuel was purchased by someone using a fake ID,
and I’d bet it was this man.” Schwartz tapped the photo on the screen. “Keith
Darwitz. He used the same alias five years back when he was arrested for being
in a drunken brawl. Guess who his roommate was for three years?”
“Belgrade?”
“Yes, and do you
remember how Belgrade spent six months in juvenile detention for stealing a
car?”
“Yeah.”
“Guess who was
with him when he stole it?”
“Keith Darwitz.”
“Bingo.”
“They were
teenage crime buddies?”
“Yes, and I’ve
got one more thing for you.”
“What?”
“Guess who
worked as a security guard for a year at Revolution Records and quit about four
months ago?”
“Are you kidding
me?”
“Nope. Keith
Darwitz.”
“I want to know
everything about how the transaction occurred,” West said. “Whose fuel hauler
was used and who signed for it.”
“It’s already on
my to-do list.”
“Where’s Darwitz
now?”
“I’m still
digging.”
“I want to know
in five minutes,” West said, reaching for his phone. He called Beckholm and
told him everything.
* * *
Beckholm brought
the rental car to a stop and turned off the lights. He and Nick were parked in
the lot of a small strip mall facing Ned’s Hardware. The parking lot in front
of the store was empty except for a Honda Civic parked near the back that
Beckholm knew belonged to Keith Darwitz. They watched the store for ten minutes
to make sure no one else except Keith was in the store.
“Remember,” Beckholm
said, as Nick stuffed the earpiece in his left ear, “he’s the only person we
have access to who may know anything about your sister.” Beckholm squinted,
then added, “So, don’t kill him.”
“That would be
too kind,” Nick said.
Beckholm held up
his microphone. “Can you hear me?”
Nick nodded.
“And you can hear me?” Nick asked, glancing down at the microphone under his
shirt.
Beckholm nodded.
“You remember what to ask?”
“Yes, I do.”
“If he won’t
talk, just get out of there.”
“I’ll get him to
talk.” Nick climbed out of the car and slammed the door behind him. He stepped
inside just in time to hear the store phone ring. Keith sported an overgrown goatee
and wore a Ned’s Hardware shirt that was having trouble containing his huge
gut.
Nick’s lip
curled in disgust as he turned down the nuts-and-bolts aisle, looking around to
make sure no one else was in the store. He walked the perimeter, seeing no one.
“The store is clear,” Nick whispered into his microphone.
Keith answered
the phone. “Ned’s Hardware.”
“Keith Darwitz?”
Nick could hear Beckholm through his earpiece as he talked with Keith on the
phone.
“Yeah. Who’s
this?”
“I’ve been asked
to give you some information.”
“Who are you?”
“Let’s just say,
a friend who is trying to help you.”
“What?”
“I’ve been asked
to warn you, Keith, so shut up and listen. Something bad has happened, and we
are working to contain it. Somebody knows. Somebody talked. One of them was
caught.”
Nick watched as
the spool of rope Darwitz had been holding slipped from his fingers and
unraveled across the linoleum.
“Are you still
there?”
“Listen, man,”
Keith said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m trying to
help you, Keith.”
“Look, we
shouldn’t be … I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
“Yes, you do, so
shut up and listen,” the voice said. “The good news is the man wasn’t caught by
the cops. Someone else caught him.”
“I don’t—”
“Look,” the
voice told Keith, “the man who was caught was messed up really bad. We just
talked to him after he got out of the hospital. He didn’t say anything about
the mission, but he did give a name.”
“Whose name?”
“Your name.
That’s why I’m calling to warn you.”
“We shouldn’t be
doing this.”
Beckholm’s voice
grew in volume. “I’m trying to warn you, Keith,”
“I can’t—”
“He cut off all
of the man’s fingers! Do you hear me, Keith? This is not someone to be taken
lightly.”
“What?”
“The man doesn’t
have fingers anymore!” Beckholm shouted into the phone.
“Why me? Why … why
did he give him my name?”
“You need to be
careful. We know the man who did it, and we think he’s coming for you.”
Darwitz turned
his back to the counter and spoke softly. “But I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Beckholm paused
before finally saying, “Oh, really. So you didn’t purchase the fuel? You be
sure and tell him that when you see him.”
Nick moved in
quickly as Keith still had his back to him.
“Who is it?”
Keith shouted. “What does he look like?”
Nick grabbed the
neck of Keith’s shirt and yanked him over the counter. He crashed into a rack
of paintbrushes.
Darwitz yelled
as he landed on his stomach. He looked up at Nick, who was holding a large bolt
cutter.
“Oh, God.”
Darwitz started to crawl away.
“There are three
women in this world you never mess with: A man’s wife.” Nick kicked him hard in
the side.
Darwitz heaved
as he gasped for air. “Oh, God, please.”
“A man’s
mother.” Nick swung the bolt cutter around and hit Darwitz on his other side.
He dropped the cutter, grabbed both of Darwitz’s arms, and twisted them around
behind his back.
“And a man’s
sister
.
”
Nick held both of Darwitz’s arms with one hand as he used the other to punch
him hard in the kidney.
Nick grabbed the
loose end of the spool of rope Darwitz had dropped on the floor and wrapped it
around both of his wrists several times. He cut the rope and then dragged
Darwitz across the floor to a nearby display of patio furniture. Nick tied
Darwitz’s arms to a table leg.
Nick went back, picked
up the cutter and held it out where Keith could see it. “As soon as you stop
answering my questions, your fingers start coming off.”
Darwitz’s
breathing intensified. He dropped his head forward.
“Where is my
sister?”
“Her plane
crashed, man.”
Nick grabbed
Darwitz’s hair and pulled it back. “Now, I didn’t even tell you who I am, and
you already know who I’m talking about. I start with the small finger and work
my way to the thumb.”
“No. Stop. I
swear, I don’t know.”
“Here we go.”
Nick fitted the jaws around Darwitz’s left pinky finger.
Darwitz jumped
and squirmed. “No, she wasn’t on the plane. Someone screwed up. They tried to
take her. Someone else took her.”
Waves of relief
and anger washed over Nick.
“Bullshit,” Nick
said. “You expect me to believe that? Her bodyguard was seen on the plane. He’s
dead.”
“He was shot trying
to help her get away. It was an ambush. I swear.”
“What the hell
does that mean?”
“They tried to
take her off the plane, but they got ambushed. Someone else opened fire.
Someone else took her. They must have known they were going to take her. I
swear someone else took her.”
“Bullshit! I
don’t believe it. Your finger is coming off.” Nick applied a slight pressure to
the cutter.
“
No,
”
Darwitz screamed, “I swear. Someone else took her.”
“Someone helped
her get away, or someone did the job for you?”
“They took her,
man! She was in handcuffs.”
Nick shouted in
Darwitz’s ear, “DID THEY KIDNAP HER OR HELP HER GET AWAY?”
“They kidnapped
her! It was an ambush, I swear. They had to have known we’d be there. They knew,
and they took her.”
“How many people
took her?”
Keith shook his
head.
“How many?” Nick
said, louder.
“I don’t know. I
wasn’t there.”
“HOW MANY?” Nick
shouted.
“Maybe six or
more.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know,
man. I wasn’t there.”
“Where is
‘there’?”
“An airport, in Montana,” Darwitz said.
“Which airport?”
“A small one, I
don’t know where. I wasn’t there. I swear.”
“What was your
job?”
Darwitz didn’t
say anything.
“Say good-bye to
your finger,” Nick said.
“No, wait, I was
just supposed to get the fuel.”
“What fuel?”
“The fuel for
the plane.”
“Which plane?”
“The one she was
riding in. It was supposed to leave without her,” Darwitz said.
“And go where?”
“Nowhere. They
let it crash. The pilot bailed out.”
“And what else
did you do?”
Darwitz didn’t
say anything.
Nick repositioned
the cutter. “Do you think I give a shit whether or not your fingers come off?
There’s no way you are part of this and only got the fuel. What else did you
do?”
“Nothing else, I
swear.”
“Fine.” Nick
squeezed the handles just enough to draw blood.
Darwitz
screamed. “No, wait! I was going to edit the video.”
“What video?”
“It was going to
be for the ransom. They taped the kidnapping.”
“They what?”
“They taped it
when they took her off the plane.”
“Why? Why would
they do that?”
“So they could
convince her family she was still alive.”
Nick clenched
his fist at the thought of what was on the video.
“What was the
plan?” Nick asked. It was one of the questions Beckholm had told him to ask.
“What?”
“The plan. What
was the plan?” Nick asked. “You don’t do something like this without a plan.
You were going to kidnap her and then what?”
“We were just
going to take her and wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“For the family
to collect the money.”
“What money?”
“She’s worth so
much. We were going to wait for them to collect the inheritance.”
“Then what?”
“Then we send
the video to the family. We send some proof, so they’d know she was still
alive. Then we’d go after a ransom.”
“I’m not going
to ask you again,” Nick said. “Where is my sister?”
“They’re trying
to find her. They went after the guy who took her.”
“The guy?” Nick
yelled. “You told me it was six or more.”
“Yeah, it was.
It was six or more, I swear.”
“Where did they
take her?”
“They took her
in another plane. A floatplane. It landed somewhere. I don’t know where. Some
lake? That’s all I was told. They’re tracking her through the forest.”
Nick remembered
Beckholm talking about the floatplane that had been found at the bottom of a Montana lake.
Nick fought back
the urge to bury his foot in Darwitz’s face. He knew it was a different man’s
face he really wanted to kick in. “Where is Belgrade?”