Hard Case V: Blood and Fear (A John Harding Novel Book 5) (24 page)

“Of course, Sir,” Tommy agreed.

I turned Sterner toward his car, plastic tied his hands behind his back, followed by his ankles. Tommy patted him down, confiscating his tablet, and a stiletto knife from the same pocket. I opened the passenger door on the beautiful black Mercedes, picked Sterner up and fitted him into the passenger seat. I could tell by the shocked look on his face as I buckled him in extra tightly, he had never been picked up and moved like that. Heh… heh. That’s only the beginning Glock old buddy.

“Follow me over, T? I could use a ride home. I think Gus is on call tonight, but I don’t want to call anyone else in for a ride.”

“Of course. I planned to. It’s still early. Do you have plans with Lora and Al?”

I moved the driver’s seat all the way back and carefully slid into the Mercedes driver’s seat. “I’m hoping only a movie and a beer.”

Tommy handed me my equipment bag. “That sounds like heaven to me. I might have one with you before I head home.”

I’d love to do the brothers Bud and Beam tonight, but I have an ocean jaunt tomorrow, so it’s semi-sobriety for me. “You’re on. Let’s drop our pal off, and get to it. I’ll text Gus right now. He lives only ten minutes away from Pain Central anyway.”

By this time in the conversation Glock’s face began to show a bit of worry. As I texted Gus and received his confirmation, Glock mumbled something about rights. I ignored him, and started the convertible, easing into the light traffic with Tommy on my tail. I would have to be satisfied with knowing we finally brought this asshole to justice… just not the justice murdering thugs think they’ll get. I had no intention of touching him when we arrived at Pain Central. Anything I broke on Crue’s toys, and my training day in the ocean tomorrow would be pole poking hell. She went to bed early. That did not bode well for Glock.

“Answer me, Harding! This isn’t the way to any precinct. You’re heading south out of the city. Where the hell are you taking me? I know you too – John Harding. I heard you were after me. I never did anything to you. What the hell’s your problem?”

“You killed two kids in front of my house practically, and fired at two more. I caught everyone that was in the car with you that day. You made a big mistake coming back to Oakland, Glock baby.”

“What the fuck is this?! You can’t kidnap me off the street, and execute me! Listen… I have money. I can soothe the hurt feelings you think I caused. You can’t prove shit! I’ll pay the people. They’ll be fine with it. Let me go and I’ll make you and them rich.”

I did enjoy Glock’s offer to make me and everyone involved rich. He doesn’t know it yet, but I will use all the money Crue makes this ass-wipe cough up in his accounts to do what he wants. It will be his anonymous after death apology for what he did. I’m sure Crue will find out all the names we need to make the fund transfers to the right people. Then I added a caution when dead man stopped talking.

“My advice is to shut up. I will make all the wishes come true except for the setting you free one. I know you’ve been bred from babyhood to believe nothing you ever do, say, or destroy is your fault. You believe the courts, public opinion, the very stars in the sky are here to help you do whatever sick shit flits through your mind at any time. I’m here to reeducate you on those beliefs, Glock. You will die tomorrow. If you help my assistant find out every single thing we ask you about what you’ve been involved with, maybe we’ll give you a hotshot into hell without pain. If you resist for even a moment, my assistant, the infamous Cruella Deville, will make your passing so legendary that your victims will rise from the grave to applaud.”

I glanced over at the well-dressed piece of crap next to me, noting with satisfaction he understood there would be no pleas, no lawyers, and no way out. There would only be death. I could tell after the initial acceptance he wasn’t ever seeing a courtroom, goofy Glock became entertainingly adamant.

He smirked. “I will tell you nothing. Kill me now, asshole! I’m not telling you, or your assistant shit, homey!”

I had to pull over at that point. I admit I was laughing so hard I couldn’t drive safely. “Thanks… thanks for that… Glock. God… it’s good to laugh. For your own sanity, please think of all the helpful things you can tell us tomorrow. My assistant won’t be pleased, but if you think of a myriad of facts making you interesting tomorrow, Cruella Deville will accede to my recommendation to simply give you the hotshot into hell. If you don’t, buckle up pal, because nothing will save you from your overdue fate.”

I stopped again a couple miles from our destination. I uploaded everything from Glock’s mobile phone and tablet into my own before smashing them both to bits. Next, I took my Laredo made tracker device indicator. I went over Sterner’s vehicle carefully, getting my only hit in the trunk. My scan of Sterner indicated he was clean. In the trunk I found the tracker near a pocket in his drug bag. These guys had it made, or they thought they did. His wares were all ready for transfer into a client’s hand in exchange for money. I busted the tracker, did a quick secondary search, and we were on our way. Glock turned real moody when he saw what happened to his toys.

“Damn it, Harding! We can make a deal. These guys I deal for will make you beg for death. You haven’t completely screwed them over. Set me free, and I can make this go away.”

“I think not. You have your crew. I have mine. Mine makes yours seem like Disney on Ice, when all the cute young ladies and guys ice skate to music while Mickey and Pluto dance around them. What’s the use in talking about it anyway? No one will ever see you again anyway. They certainly won’t know what happened to you. I’m taking you on a boat trip tomorrow after Cruella Deville gets through convincing you to provide us with every fact we want to know about your misguided life, player. Don’t bother bringing a fishing pole though.”

That shut Glock up for the rest of our short trip. Gus opened our spacious garage area the moment I beeped. In I went to Gus’s admiring inspection of the E-class convertible.

“Like my ride, Mr. Denova?”

“Oh John… this sucker is gorgeous. Tan leather interior… Mama Mia… do we get to keep her for loan outs?”

“Of course,” I assured him as I noticed Glock staring at Gus with shock. He recognized our reformed kingpin of crime. “You guys will have to alter it a bit, but yeah, it’s going into the vehicle pool.”

“Gus Denova? What the fuck… I thought you were dead,” Glock blurted out.

Gus let the amiable minion features wash away. In a split second he was the murderous cartel enforcer he carried with him inside. “Did I give you permission to speak, poser?”

Glock hung his head immediately, and Gus glanced at me with a smile. “Shall I entertain him or is he Crue’s new toy?”

“He’s awfully cute, but you know how Crue feels about anyone playing with her toys before she has a chance to unwrap them,” I replied.

Gus nodded in solemn agreement. “Understood. What about movies, John. Can I show him a few Director Deville movie clips?

“If you do that, it’ll be like someone yanked the remote out of her hands. You know Glock here will start spewing everything he knows, and everything he ate today. It’s best you lock him down for the night. It’ll give you time to do a computer mockup of what you’d like to do to help this fine Mercedes join our vehicle line incognito.”

“Oh yeah. I’m calling Silvio. His wife and kid are visiting the in-laws down in LA. He said he wanted in on anything exciting.”

“Leave the drugs he has in the trunk. I’ll let Denny figure out what he wants to do with them. Tommy’s outside. I leave Glock in your capable hands. His real name is William.”

Gus pumped his fist. “Yes! Get the fuck out of my car, Willie, before I Glock you.”

Chapter Eight

The Assassin

Cruella arrived early with Clint after I left a text explaining Sterner. Gus brought him out from the holding cell with a neutral look of a jail cell administrator. I suspected Gus, Silvio, and Quays all worshiped Lynn. They knew instinctively if she cared about you, she would kill, maim, or torture anyone for you. Crue put an arm around Gus’s shoulders, hugging him to her like a relative she hadn’t seen since last Christmas.

“John told me he warned you to stay clear of my toys, Gus. I’m feeling the pinch of pregnancy, my friend. From now on, call me if you feel a warmup with results would work. I’ve already seen you look down and away. The ‘Glock’ did something that prompted you to show him a movie, didn’t he?”

Gus shrugged. “Yeah… he pitched the slave card we were working for criminals without conscience. Silvio thought it was funny, and said we sure the hell are, and proud of it. When he failed in getting a rise out of us, he spit in Silvio’s face. We didn’t touch him, but I did show him the game show video of you conducting an interrogation cutting skin off for wrong answers. It’s a classic.”

Oh boy did Crue enjoy that for a few moments. “I see Glock boy has a surprised look of shock on his face since I arrived. How’d the demonstration go?”

“He threw up faster than Quays did when he saw it,” Gus answered. “We made him clean all the cells, including his own, and then locked him down… Mistress of the Unimaginable.”

“Well done, my treasured minion.” Crue walked over to stroke the trembling face of Sterner. “I see in your eyes you’re eager to help us sort this whole ill-conceived plan out so no innocents are harmed. If you impress me, you get a quick and not unpleasant death. Play hardball, and I’m cranky enough to take all seven months of my pregnancy out on you.”

“Believe me, you don’t want that,” Clint added comically on cue, drawing suppressed amusement from everyone but Sterner and Crue. “Oh… sorry, Hon, did I say that out loud?”

After another moment of eyeball daggers, Lynn turned her attention to Sterner again. “My husband is right, in spite of the unfortunate way he said it. You’ve seen the film. When I get started, there are no take-backs. Please don’t waste time bargaining for something you can’t have. John already told me what you’ve done. This isn’t the world court of bullshit. It doesn’t always happen that assholes like you pay for gunning down kids in the street, but I’m betting those two in front of John’s house weren’t your first, nor were they your last. Shall Gus start recording, or do you want door number two: hell on earth?”

Glock looked up for the first time with resignation coloring his features. “Start the recording. I do not want to die screaming.”

“Good choice,” Lynn said. “Gus has a set of questions he’ll ask. Pretend I’m asking them. If I have to interrupt the proceedings because my valued minion doesn’t like your answer while he checks them on the satellite uplink in front of him, then I get involved in a very bad way. Do you understand? Don’t say yes now, and maybe later, because you’ll become my next video star. I have a really neat one involving a red hot poker, and your asshole. Oh boy, Willie, you don’t want to become the star in that video.”

“I…I understand!” The former ‘Glock’ and now Willie had the shakes already, so I knew he was concentrating.

“Before Gus gets started,” Lynn said. “Tell us the bandit’s name supplying the drugs for that very cool spot you had on Lake Merritt.”

“Yuri Kornev supplies everything. The bastard brought me up from LA, saying no one would remember what I’d done… that I was history with the police.”

Oh baby. Lynn and I exchanged avid glances of completion. “You were history with the police, but not to me. I’ll sit in for this Lynn. Go rest. You’ll need your strength for the ocean training session.”

“Thanks, John. I may let Tommy handle the cruise on his own. Clint Jr. is making my life miserable right now. I’m still on board for a reeducation ceremony if my honeybun Willie forgets his place.”

Clint put an arm around her shoulders. “I’ll make you some tea, and whatever you think sounds good for breakfast, babe. C’mon, and challenge me.”

Lynn leaned into her monster mate with affection. “An omelet I think would soothe the Clint Jr. roller coaster ride on my stomach.”

“Right this way, my dear. We’ll be in the kitchen, brother. Sing out if you need the poker heated.”

“Will do,” I replied, getting in front of Willie with my chair. “Go ahead, Gus. I’m a great truth detector. To be truthful, Willie, I’m praying you make me doubt you. You didn’t see the videos of Director Deville’s red hot poker movies. I’d love to see you get the treatment, because I know we’re only calling due a small number of your transgressions. Don’t worry though. We don’t break our word about a quick exit if you answer truthfully. Go on, Gus.”

Over the next hour Gus took Willie through every instance in his pathetic life where he caused pain, heartbreak, and death. By the end, I wanted to take him on a tour of the unimaginable myself, but I don’t break my word to anyone… ever. When he ran out of things to say, I gave Willie his promised hotshot to hell, but I hung on to his hair at the end as he faded away into eternity with regret. Gus noticed and placed a hand on my wrist.

“Let it go, John. This one won’t ever terrorize anyone.”

“Yeah… I know. He did something I never expected. He made me hot for getting into the ocean and busting the shit out of some poles. I don’t think Crue is into the training this morning though. Tommy will have to do.”

“I can fill in for the Mistress of the Unimaginable, John.”

I looked him over, and saw he wasn’t kidding. Uh oh. Well, the fight’s won in the trenches so the path is important. “Are you sure, Gus?”