Read Pieces of the Puzzle Online
Authors: Robert Stanek
“Let me see if I have this right, you kidnap me and bring me here to warn me and—”Wellmen cleared his throat. “We both know
you came of your own free will. No one forced you onto my jet, you walked on. The reason you are here is that my daughter’s
wedding is only a few days away and I will not have her happiness spoiled by false accusations and harassment. I have one
daughter, Mr. Evers, my only living child. I want her wedding to be a day she will remember for the rest of her life. Jessica
is all I have left, I have spared no expense on the preparations, and no one is going to ruin it. Do we understand each other?”
Scott glared at Wellmen, suddenly seeing something he hadn’t seen before. “Helen’s not yours then?”
“Of course, she’s not mine. She may have been illegitimate but I… “ Wellmen’s voice trailed off. “So you’ve made the connection,
have you? You’re a bolder man than I thought then, Mr. Evers.” He stopped again, continued, “Do you know what it is like to
lose children, Mr. Evers? Do you know how desperately it makes you want to preserve whatever you have left?”
Scott sucked at the air, looked away. He knew, a ball of white-hot rage in his gut every time he thought about C and the baby
and knew that Wellmen was just outside his grasp. “Where’s Helen?”
“Do you think I would hurt Helen? I’ve always treated her as fairly as I could. I’ve loved her in my own way. But I can’t
help that Jessica’s my daughter and she’s not.”
“Where is she?”
“I would imagine she has continued on to wherever you were bound for. You are welcome to leave anytime you wish, but first
let me reiterate that this is about vengeance, Mr. Evers. Glen Hastings is trying to punish me for something that I had no
part in and no knowledge of until recently. Even if it takes a presidential order, this harassment of me and my family ends
here and now. If you want to follow him into the gutter, that is your choice.”
Scott stood. “And the financial crisis is what then—hocus pocus?”
“As you say, Mr. Evers.” He cleared his throat. “My Leer leaves for Kapalua in a few hours. It would be most unfortunate for
both of us if I saw you during my stay in the islands.”
Scott walked away. When the guards didn’t step aside at the door, he turned and glared at Wellmen. “Are the goons going to
move?”
Wellmen stood, didn’t say a word. Something on the overhead monitors caught his eye. He shouted, “Mr. Kim?”
Seconds later Kim Dong Gi came rushing into the dining room. “That man, have security bring him here now.”
Scott tried to say something, he was cut off.
“One last thing, Mr. Evers, if anything should happen to me or anyone in my family during my stay in Kapalua, I’ll hold you
personally responsible. I’ve made arrangements—an insurance policy if you will. I want Glen to live with his failure for the
rest of his life, but you, I don’t give a damn about. Are we clear as crystal on that?”
Scott turned his back on Wellmen and said, “If you’re planning on killing me, you’d better do it now.”
Wellmen clapped his hands, dismissing Scott into the custody of security just as the man on the monitor was dragged into the
room. Scott didn’t move. He glared at the man. Pictures, images, faces flooded through his mind: Was it John Tippton? Could
it be John Tippton? He didn’t have time to dwell on the thought.
He was dragged out of the room much as the other man had been dragged into the room.
Honolulu, Hawaii
Evening,
Saturday, 22 January
It was 9:05 p.m., Honolulu time. Scott scratched at his eyes with the heels of his palms. The flights from Denver to LAX and
LAX to Honolulu were the longest of his life. Wellmen was clever. Scott gave him credit for that. He knew enough about Scott
to know that bribery wouldn’t have worked. Still Scott found himself wondering if Wellmen was telling the truth and if he
was telling the truth, what did it all mean?
Scott’s thoughts were moving in circles—had been moving in circles—and the plane couldn’t taxi to the terminal fast enough
to please him. His thoughts turned to Helen. In Miami, he had purchased the tickets, paying in cash, in the name of Mr. and
Mrs.
Miller. Was Mrs. Miller, Helen, really in Honolulu as his inquiry revealed, or was she somewhere else?
He hoped she really was here and that she was waiting for him, but his gut was telling him otherwise. He rubbed his eyes again,
and told himself that he would call Glen from an airport phone just like he planned. He would say the search was going well
and nothing about anything else.
***
Glen answered the phone on the third ring. He grinned into the wall mirror beside the desk and waited for the Christmas tree
to light. He wasn’t surprised to find Scott’s voice greeting him in a heated tone and the instant he picked up the phone a
trace of the call began. Everything was going according to plan. He would show them all. Even monkeys sometimes fall out of
the tree.
He let Scott talk for a while. He didn’t listen. He didn’t need to. When there was finally silence on the other end of the
line, Glen said, in as clear and emotionless a voice as he could manage, “Helen is with you, give her the phone.”
“I’m in Honolulu, Glen, I’m alone.”
“Put her on the phone, Scott. I know she is with you. I know she can lead us to the box. She only needs to be persuaded that
it’s in her best interest to give it to us.”
Glen reveled in the silence on the other end of the line. He could picture Scott’s face in his mind’s eye and would’ve paid
well for a photograph capturing the moment.
Then a shallow female voice whispered, “Yes?”
“Is Scott listening to our conversation?”
A delightfully awkward discord of stifled breaths and whimpers followed. Finally Helen said, “No.”
“Don’t lie to me, Helen, or—”“Or you’ll what? He’s not listening.”
Glen was pleased with her sudden bravery, yet knew he could still reach across the phone line, always could. “There’s an empty
plot next to Harry’s—”“You can’t touch me, I’m safe now.”
“And Scott is your savior?” Glen chuckled. “He works for me, Helen, and I wasn’t talking about you. I think it’s about time
Mrs. Johnson joined her husband, Harry, don’t you think that would be good? Jessica on one side, mommy on the other, and no
family plot left for poor illegitimate Helen.”
“What do you want from me? I did everything you asked, everything.”
“Though I would’ve taken great pleasure in it, Helen, I didn’t kill Jessica. I was going to keep my promise. We made a deal.
I promised to let her go when you gave me what I wanted, and I would have except someone else got to her first. I’ve no reason
to lie. Do you have the item she sent to you?”
“She didn’t send me anything.”
“Don’t lie to me, Helen; I know she sent something to you.
Do you want to get even with the ones who killed Jessica?”
“She didn’t send me anything.”
“I tell you what, Helen, when I kill your mommy, I’ll make sure there isn’t much left, who knows, maybe they’ll be able to
squeeze what’s left of the both of you into a single plot…” Glen’s voice trailed off for moment, then returned full and steady,
“Tell Scott where the item is, don’t lie, just get it and give it to him.”
***
Helen dropped the phone. She sank to her knees and buried her face in her hands. Scott grabbed the phone. “What did you say
to her?”
“Only what you should have said to her.”
“I know about the recording, Glen, I know everything.”
“Everything is an awful lot, Scott, you don’t know everything yet or you wouldn’t be angry. Sometimes you have to cut down
a few trees to save the forest. If you only knew—”“Glen, I’ve had enough. You stepped way beyond the lines. I’m going to go
over your head—”The voice on the other end of the line became a whisper, “I know about the meeting with Wellmen. I know your
every step since you left Baltimore.”
“I’m going—”“Don’t play me for the fool. You’re in this up to your ears and everything, and I mean everything, is sitting
at your feet. Incidentally, you left behind a bottle of cognac in a hotel room at the Ritz-Carlton. Your fingerprints were
all over it, seems to be the only clue in a triple homicide.”
“What the hell are you doing to me? First the recording, and now this. What are you planning to do with the recording? Mail
it to Cynthia if I don’t do what you ask for the next sixty years?”
“You give me way too much credit, Scott, but now that you mention it…” Glen chuckled. “You see, it’s this simple, you take
out Mr. Kim, Jessica, and Wellmen. His estate falls into probate and third cousins try to carve his empire into tiny little
pieces for the next fifty years. Neat, simple, direct. Don’t you think?”
“If anything happens to Cynthia, I’ll be coming straight for you, you sick son of a bitch!”
“I’ve never let anything happen to Cynthia. Haven’t gotten it through your thick skull yet that Wellmen is the one who tried
to kill her? He knows your reputation. He knows he can’t buy you no matter how much money he throws at your feet—and the recordings
were simply additional insurance. He’s a cautious man, doubly so. Don’t you understand how important it is that you’re not
on this case? An agent that can’t be bought, Scott, you’re one of a kind.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about Janet’s involvement in this case?”
Glen was silent for a moment. “You still don’t get it, do you?
Years ago when we first met, I knew you were the one, the one who would help me set the record straight. Why do you think
I oversaw your training? Why do you think I fed you assignments the last twenty years? Why do you think I positioned you where
you are?”
“What about Janet? How is she connected to this? I want the truth.”
“Forget Janet. Focus on what I’m telling you for a moment, will you: John Ellis Wellmen is the one you want. Bring him down,
do whatever it takes.”
“Damn it, Glen, tell me one thing that is the truth. Wellmen was listed from the beginning, and maybe Kim Dong Gi, but his
daughter? Does this really have anything to do with a magic box or did you just make all that up?”
“We don’t want you to find it. We never wanted you to find it. It’s going exactly where we want it to go and it will do exactly
what we want it to do. Helen got my message, she understands.”
“I know the technology is valuable. I have Jessica’s diary. She wrote about everything: The truth.”
“The truth?” Glen started laughing. “The truth? You haven’t been listening. Your truth is what I’ve fed you.”
“I’ve recorded every conversation we’ve had on the phone since this began. I made copies. Who should I address them to?”
“You’re bluffing.”
“I’m recording this one using a device that fits over the mouth- and earpiece of the phone, transmits wirelessly to a recorder
in my shirt pocket. Your system won’t detect it; anyone you’ve had watching me wouldn’t see it. Wonderfully brilliant, don’t
you think?”
“You’re bluffing.”
“If you’re sure, hang up. If you’re not, tell me about the magic box.”
“Scott, you don’t know what you’re doing. Don’t do this; it won’t play out the way you think. You’ll become a liability; everyone
you could reach out to becomes a liability.”
“Does that include you, you son of a bitch?”
“Yes, yes, yes. Are you happy now? … It also includes Cynthia, Helen, Janet—anyone and everyone. Do you get it now?”
***
Glen slammed down the phone, threw the desk lamp across the room. Janet was lying beside the fire, half asleep, waiting for
him. She jumped up, asking “What’s wrong? What is it?” He told her nothing was wrong, but when he looked at her and felt the
wonder of the hand on his shoulder, he knew what he would have to do, to her, to Scott, to anyone or anything that outlived
its usefulness. Then he thought that maybe in the darkness as she screamed his name in the throes of passion would be the
right time, but first there were things he must do.
He picked up the phone, pushed the second preset button. A strong male voice answered. Glen said, “This is Hastings… Yes,
I know what time it is. Honolulu. First available flight… Yes, yes, yes.”
Glen hung up the phone.
Janet patted the floor beside her. “Come here, you look tense.”
“Maybe in a moment.” Glen picked up the phone, pushed the first preset button. The phone dialed out the number to the private
line for James Henry Simons. Unfortunately, the line was busy. He put the phone down, said to Janet, “A drive would be relaxing,
don’t you think?”
Janet squinted at her watch. “Do you know what—”“You said yourself you wanted to see how Cynthia’s doing.”
Janet looked at her watch again, frowned. “Will he be there?”
“Perhaps, I’m not sure.”
“It’s like he looks right through me, does he do that to everyone?”
“I’m going to change this shirt. The keys are in the kitchen, will you get them?”
“Change the pants too,” Janet shouted after him.
Glen continued up the stairs to the master bedroom. He called down to Janet, “What’s wrong with these pants?”
Janet replied, but Glen heard only a mumble as he wrapped one end of a leather cord around his hand. He felt the blood flow
to his fingers slow, and as he walked at a leisurely pace down the stairs, his fingers began to tingle. It was time, he told
himself. Better now than later, better him doing it than them.
***
Scott held the phone to his ear for the longest time, listening to the dial tone. He wasn’t at the truth, but the layers of
lies were getting less and less, and every layer he dug through meant he was one step closer to the truth. But there was only
one way he’d ever get to the real truth, and that was to find the box and reveal it for himself, even if that meant confronting
John Wellmen, even if that meant confronting Glen Hastings.
Helen’s sobs brought him back from his reverie, and only Helen’s sobs made him consider hanging up the phone. He did so and
turned to her. She had heard every word of what he had said, and maybe some of what Glen had said. She was trembling out of
control and no amount of hugging her knees was going to end it.
He started to grab her shoulders; he wanted to shake her like a rag doll; instead wrapped his arms around her. He hugged her
because she needed to be reassured and because he needed to be hugged back. He hugged her because he had never felt so alone.
He hugged her because she was next to him and within reach, and because she could reassure him there might be a tomorrow.
He hugged her because he was positive Glen Hastings would be on the next flight to Honolulu. What that meant, he wasn’t entirely
sure, but Glen would be away from Cynthia.
The voices of the tourists gathered to gawk brought him back from the edge. Fleetingly, he thought about calling Glen back,
but didn’t. Then he tried to comfort Helen, but his touch only made her tremble more. Abruptly he stood and glared at the
crowd gathering to watch Helen cry. He shouted, “When you’ve seen enough, get the hell out of here and leave us alone!”
He kneeled and grabbed Helen’s shoulders. “What did Glen say to you?”
Helen said very quietly, “He killed her, even if he said he didn’t.”
“Jessica?”
“John, John killed her. He said he didn’t, but I know he did.”
“Slow down, how do you know Glen? Through Janet, I mean Pattie? You know Glen through Pattie, is that it?”
Helen’s face flushed with distress. Her sobs intensified. Scott watched her try to think. She said, “John, John, that was
John.”
“How did you…” Scott’s voice trailed off as the weight of the world hit him and pulled him to the floor. “That was John?”
She didn’t need to answer. He knew it was true, perhaps had known, but before he couldn’t let himself believe it. He put his
back to the wall. The world rested on his shoulders. The whole of his body gradually went numb. Aim the gun, squeeze the trigger,
kill someone before they killed you that was an inevitability, but the things Glen did to her weren’t things any human being
should ever do to another. He broke her down, used her, turned her into something she wasn’t. Or was she?
He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. They rushed out of the arrival terminal past the signs for the Wiki Wiki.
Running, running. Running, running.
The Wiki Wiki driver flipped Scott off as he passed, shouting, “Hey, island time, haulie, better learn how to relax.” Scott
started shouting back, not because he was angry at the driver, but because he didn’t know who else to vent his anger at. He
didn’t know anything anymore. He didn’t know who he could trust, for all he knew, Helen was really working for Wellmen. Why
not?
He wiped sweat from his brow with his free hand. The warm tropical air was full of humidity and the dark clouds overhead said
it would rain as it been when the plane landed. They crossed the bridge connecting the arrival terminal to the main terminal
and were under cover when it began to drizzle.
He pulled her past Burger King, past a myriad of shops, down an escalator to the H baggage-claim area. He screamed at her
for leaving his garment bag on the plane and went to the lost and found desk to claim it, hoping it would be there and that
no one had stolen it. He screamed at the attendant behind the desk, ordered him to find the bag, showed him the air marshal
badge that was a lifesaver at airport security checkpoints. He screamed at Helen while he waited. And all because he couldn’t
scream at the one person he wanted to scream at.