Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Elizabeth saw that Baldy’s face was strained, and she felt he hadn’t been doing so well since their encounter outside The Mansion.
She and Matt hadn’t been able to influence Lang’s actions, but this guy was another matter.
She focused on him, using every ounce of power she possessed to send him a message.
The man in front of you is an enemy invader. You have to disable him. He’s holding me captive. You have to disable him so I can get away.
She watched Baldy’s visage. Watched confusion and doubt chasing themselves across his features as he tried to figure out what was true and what wasn’t.
Lang saw that she was staring at someone behind him and turned.
Enemy. He’s an enemy, Elizabeth silently screamed. Disable him.
Baldy blinked.
“Tony, what are you doing here? Is your shift over?”
So his name was Tony.
His mouth opened and closed as he stared at his boss, puzzlement on his face.
Elizabeth frantically continued to send him false information.
The man in front of you is an enemy. He’s here to attack The Mansion. Disable him.
Tony pulled out a gun and pointed it at Lang.
“What are you doing, you fool?” the crime boss shouted.
In the next moment, Tony pulled the trigger, and Lang went down.
From in back of the shooter, another man appeared, and this time, it was the guy named Southwell who had taken Matt away.
“Watch out,” Elizabeth shouted at Tony. “There’s another invader.”
The man whirled just as Southwell discharged his own weapon.
When Tony went down, Southwell jumped back. And as Elizabeth stared at the scene, she caught the scent of smoke wafting toward her. It could have been a malfunctioning fireplace, but she didn’t think so.
She glanced at Mrs. Vivian and saw the woman’s eyes wide and panicked.
“The house is on fire. Help me get untied.”
The woman didn’t move.
Help me! You have to help me.
Matt stared at the flames, knowing he didn’t have much time now. As he hurried to the steps, he heard gunfire upstairs.
Oh Lord, had Lang shot Elizabeth or what?
Matt had put his foot on the first riser when he saw a figure at the top. It was Southwell, the man who had locked him in the cell down here—no doubt coming to finish him off. But he stared into thedarkness and apparently couldn’t see what had happened in his absence.
Matt jumped to the side, waiting for the man to come down. When he reached the basement floor, Southwell started for the cell, then stopped short when he apparently spotted the burning doorframe. Matt leaped on his back, taking him down to the cement.
Southwell grunted, struggling, and Matt knew he had to finish this quickly. He was in bad shape, and there was no way he could match this guy in a physical fight.
Smoke was filling the basement now, and both men began to cough.
The thug flipped Matt over and tried to bring his gun hand up.
Mustering every shred of power he had left, Matt tried to send a thunderbolt toward the guy, but it was like a firecracker that failed to go off.
Just as the man yanked his arm free, he went rigid above Matt.
He looked up to see a woman at the top of the stairs. It was Elizabeth, and she’d apparently done what Matt couldn’t—zapped Southwell.
Matt yanked the gun from the thug’s limp hand and bashed him on the head with it, then bashed again. Shoving himself up, he staggered toward the steps.
He and Elizabeth met in the middle, clasping each other tightly.
“Thank God you’re all right,” they both said at the same time.
Matt forced himself to ease away. “We’ve got to get out of here. And get the women out.”
“You’re hurt,” Elizabeth breathed as he wavered on his feet.
“I’m mobile,” he answered because he had to be.
Clasping each other, they made it to the kitchen. Just as they stepped onto the tile floor, water started gushing down from the ceiling.
“The sprinkler system kicked in,” Matt said. “Maybe it will extinguish the fire, but the place is still full of smoke.”
“The girls are upstairs,” Elizabeth told him.
“We can’t leave them here,” he answered. When he started up the back stairs, Elizabeth followed. There was no water on the stairs, but as soon as they got to the upper hall, water started pouring down on them again.
“They met you already. Tell them the situation,” Matt said.
“Lang’s dead,” Elizabeth called when she reached the upper floor. “And the house is on fire. We have to get out of here.”
For long seconds, nothing happened.
As Matt started down the hall, a door opened and one of the women stepped out, water pouring down on her and a lamp base in her raised hand. It was clear she intended to use it as a weapon. When she saw Matt’s battered face, she drew in a quick breath.
“The house is on fire. We have to get out of here,” Elizabeth repeated, sending that message to the woman in the doorway and hoping it was reaching the others who must be there.
The door opened wider, and more faces peeked out.
“Come on,” Elizabeth shouted. “Your friends who were up here are already out of the house. They’re safe.”
As she spoke, she heard a roaring noise behind her and saw flames shooting up the back stairs where there were no sprinklers.
Matt turned and saw the fire. “We have to get out the front door,” he said.
Women soaked to the skin hurried out of the room, and Elizabeth ushered them to the stairs. At the bottom, they stopped to stare at the bodies on the living room floor.
“The bad man,” one of the girls confirmed.
“And one of those evil guards,” another added.
Matt brought up the rear, herding the women away from the bodies and to the front door. Then, from outside, Elizabeth heard the sound of gunfire and knew that the guards were out there—determined to keep everyone in the burning house.
Behind her, she heard Matt issuing hasty instructions.
“No,” she gasped as she looked from him to the line of three men who were about thirty yards away, all facing the door with weapons drawn.
“Can you think of anything else?” he asked, his voice grim.
Nothing came to her, but she still protested. “You’re in no shape to do anything like that.”
“I am if you help me.”
Behind them, water poured down and smoke billowed, making everyone cough. They might all die of smoke inhalation if they didn’t get out.
We couldn’t influence Lang.
His will was too strong. These guys are just hired help.
“Here goes nothing,” Matt muttered as he swiped a hand over his wet faceandthen stepped toward the door.
“This is Derek Lang. Cease fire,” he called out. “I have to get these women out of here.” He reinforced the words with a silent command, broadcasting the message to the guards outside, and Elizabeth did her best to help, lending him power.
For a long moment, nothing happened, and then someone called, “Mr. Lang?”
“Yes. We’re coming out.”
Elizabeth’s heart was in her throat as Matt stepped out, still sending the voiceless message. She continued to help him, praying that the men outside would believe the illusion he was projecting—and that the women behind them wouldn’t question what was happening.
Matt stepped out onto the porch, then turned and gestured to her and the others. “Come on.”
At first, nobody moved. But then, a crackling sound on the stairs behind them made them jump. Like the back stairs, the front ones were not protected by the sprinkler system and were burning.
Still projecting to the men outside, Matt walked down the porch steps, and the women followed, with Elizabeth ushering them along.
Then she saw something that made her catch her breath. Figures moved behind the line of men on the lawn. And as she watched, Sabrina and some other women sprang from the shadows, moving in unison. Each of them carried a club made from tree branches. Some brought the makeshift weapons down on the heads of the guards who had kept them from escaping. Others clubbed them as they went down, whacking them on the backs and shoulders. The men didn’t have time to fire as they succumbed to the brutal attack from the women who had turned the tables on them.
Matt rushed forward, grabbing automatic weapons from one of the men and then another. Elizabeth snatched up the third gun.
“Get them to the van,” Matt shouted as he stood and covered the women’s escape. “You too,” he told Elizabeth.
This time she wasn’t willing to go along with his plan. She waited with him.
When one of the guards started to get up, Matt shot at the ground in front of the man, and they all went still. She and Matt backed away. As they got to the trees, they turned and ran.
Elizabeth led the way to the van. The shelter had brought blankets in case the women needed them, and it was definitely true now. Matt, Elizabeth and the other women who had gotten showered wrapped themselves in the coverings.
Matt turned to Elizabeth. “I have to get my car. I’ll meet you at the shelter.”
She didn’t want to separate from him, but she knew they had to. He gave her hand a squeeze, but Brenda said, “We gotta get out of here.”
Reluctantly, she watched Matt head for his vehicle.
Brenda drove around to the road, and as they went past The Mansion’s driveway, they could see that the sprinklers had put out most of the fire, but smoke still poured into the sky.
“I guess The Mansion’s going to need a lot of rehab,” Elizabeth said. “But who’s gonna do it with Derek Lang out of the picture?”
“What happened to him?” Sabrina asked.
“One of his own men shot him,” Elizabeth said, not explaining that she was the one who had made the voiceless suggestion. And she wasn’t completely sure how she felt about that.
“I didn’t think you could do it,” Sabrina said. She gulped. Now it looks like you were going to rescue my friends or die trying.”
There were murmurs of agreement around the van.
“I’m so sorry I doubted you. Thank you so much for what you did.”
“I’m just sorry it took so long to get everyone out,” Elizabeth answered.
They pulled up behind the shelter, and the women poured out. They all went inside, and the director, a woman named Donna Martinson, came up to them.
“I can’t thank you enough for mounting that rescue operation,” she said.
Elizabeth looked down at the blanket and flimsy wet gown she was wearing. “Actually, there is something you can do. I’d like to dry off and put on something more suitable,” she said.
“Of course. We have clothing ready for the women. You can use the downstairs bathroom.”
Just then, Matt pulled up. Elizabeth ran to him and they embraced. Then they both got the clothing they’d brought along.
In the bathroom, she quickly took off the negligee and tossed it onto the floor. Then, she put on a bra and panties before donning jeans, a tee shirt, socks, and running shoes. When she was dressed, she stuffed the negligee into the trash can and jammed it down, then stood for a moment with her fists clenched. She’d been in Derek Lang’s house of horrors for about an hour, but the women there had been through a much longer ordeal, although they hadn’t been tied up and threatened with torture. At least she hoped not.
She stood for long moments, struggling for calm. She’d been through many terrible experiences in the past few days, but the most recent one was the worst.
When she came out of the bathroom, Donna Martinson was waiting for her. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Better.”
“Dr. Delano is changing in one of the offices,” the director said, leading Elizabeth down a short hall.
“Thank you.”
She went in and closed the door. Matt had also put on the clothes from his bag in the trunk. He had been sitting at the desk with his laptop. He stood quickly, and she looked at the bruises on his face.
“How are you?” she asked.
“Fine.”
She knew the answer was automatic as he came around the desk and embraced her again.
He didn’t have to ask how she was doing. She knew he was listening to her thoughts. And she was doing the same with him.
They clung together, thankful they had made it out of The Mansion.
Silently, they exchanged information.
I left Southwell in the basement, he told her. He probably didn’t get out. What about Mrs. Vivian?
I got her to untie me. After that, I lost track of her. If she’s still alive, she’s out of a job.
She looked up at Matt’s bruised face. “You need medical attention,” she whispered.
“Dr. Delano says I’m all right,” he answered.
What did Southwell do to you?
Kicked me around a little.
He told her about being locked in the basement cell. And she tried to tone down the scene of being tied to the chair and threatened. But Matt caught the gist of what had happened.
The bastard.
He’s dead. And with the fire out, the cops will be able to figure out that one of his men killed him.
I never would have gotten through this without you, she told him.
Yeah, well, I can’t imagine …
He didn’t finish the thought, but she knew what it was. And she felt the same. Neither one could imagine a life that didn’t include the other.
“Are we going to be able to live our lives?” she asked. “I mean, the cops still want to talk to us about Polly.”
“We’ll make sure we can,” he answered with conviction, and she wondered if that was simply wishful thinking.
He caught the question and answered. “I was just writing an e-mail to the Baltimore County detective who was investigating Polly’s death—a guy named Harrison. Unfortunately, explaining what’s been happening is a little tricky. But we lucked out with the sprinkler system. The house didn’t burn up and destroy all the evidence.
He returned to his seat, and she pulled up a chair next to his, reading the message he’d started writing.
“From Matthew Delano to Detective Thomas Harrison.
You may be aware of a murder and fire in Harford County at a mansion which was being used by mob boss Derek Lang as a house of prostitution.”
He paused and looked at Elizabeth as she kept reading. “An investigation of the scene will determine that Lang was shot by one of his men, someone named …”
“Tony,” she supplied.
“No last name?”
“Not that Lang said.”
“Okay.”
She went back to reading. “Tony was shot in turn by another one of Lang’s operatives, a man named Southwell, who subsequently ran into the basement. I also believe you will find, when you examine Southwell’s gun, that it was the same weapon used to kill Polly Kramer, who was sheltering Elizabeth Forester, the woman known as Jane Doe when she was brought into Memorial Hospital suffering from amnesia.”
He stopped and looked at her. “All right so far?”
“Yes.”
“As a social worker for Baltimore City, Elizabeth Forester had uncovered a pattern of abuse involving Derek Lang. When he realized she was investigating him, he sent men to apprehend her. As they were pursuing her through the city, she was involved in a one-car accident. She was taken to Memorial Hospital, suffering from amnesia. When she could not be identified, a nurse at the hospital, Polly Kramer, volunteered to take Elizabeth home. I became involved in the case because I was the physician on call. Lang’s men tracked Elizabeth down at Mrs. Kramer’s house. Elizabeth was able to escape, but Mrs. Kramer was unfortunately killed by Lang’s man, Southwell. We are confident that the results of the ballistics test will clear up the questions about Mrs. Kramer’s murder.”
He stopped again. “Does that make sense?”
“Yes.”
“Now comes the tricky part.”
“Because there’s no way we’re going to betray Donna Martinson and the women we rescued,” Elizabeth supplied.
Matt nodded.
“Lang was trying to kill Elizabeth because, through her job as a social worker, she had discovered that he was forcing women into prostitution, and he wanted to keep her from acting on that information.”
He signed it Matthew Delano, MD.
“I guess we have to wait for a response before we can do anything else,” he said.
“Do you think that will get us off the hook?” she asked.
“I hope so.”
He continued silently.
The problem is that we can’t give away the location of this safe house or the women's identities.
Yeah. That could be a deal breaker.
Luckily, they can’t trace the location of your computer through your e-mail.
Damn lucky.
They didn’t have long to wait for a reply. A demand came back quickly that Matt and Elizabeth surrender themselves.
They politely declined. And the detective must have expedited the ballistics test because it was only six hours later that they were given confirmation that the same gun had killed both Polly and Tony. And only Southwell’s fingerprints were on the weapon. Once that was established, Harrison asked to meet with them at a neutral location.
“He could be lying to us,” Elizabeth said. “On the TV shows, the cops don’t have any compunction about saying whatever it takes to get people into custody—or to confess.”
“Yeah, but you’re forgetting we have an advantage. We can sway his thinking.”
She gave Matt a worried look. “It didn’t work with Lang.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Do we know why?”
“Maybe because his nasty image of himself was so much a part of him that he wouldn’t listen to anyone else.”
“I hope that’s true. And I hope it’s not true of Harrison.”
They negotiated back and forth through e-mail for several hours. Finally, they agreed to meet the detective early in the morning alone in the parking lot of a shopping center, where they hoped they could make a quick getaway, if necessary.
Matt and Elizabeth said goodbye to the women they’d rescued, as well asDonna Martinson.
The women from The Mansion were still adjusting to their new freedom, but Donna took Elizabeth and Matt aside with a worried look.
“Can you keep them out of any investigation?” she asked.
“That’s what we’re trying to do,” Matt answered.
“But it might not be possible,” she countered.
“I think it is,” Matt said, praying he was right. “In any case, we won’t be coming back here.”
They left Donna still looking worried.
In the car, Matt picked up on Elizabeth’s troubled thoughts. “We can only do our best.”
“Which better be good enough.”
On the way to the shopping center, they discussed how they would handle the detective.
“The first question is—can we trust him?” Elizabeth asked.
“I think he’s gotten a pretty good idea of what kind of people we are,” Matt answered.
“Not telepaths.”
He laughed. “No. Upstanding citizens trying to help some women in distress. And he’s going to want to go to bat for us.”
“We hope.”
“We’re going to reinforce that.”
They pulled up in an area where a few cars were parked and watched the place where they’d said they would meet.
Harrison kept his word and drove up alone in an unmarked car, stopping near a fast-food restaurant.
Matt and Elizabeth made him wait ten minutes before pulling up nose to tail with his vehicle.
The driver of each car rolled down his window so they could talk.
Harrison began, “You know I don’t usually do this kind of thing.”
“We understand, and we appreciate it.”
“Why the cloak and dagger stuff if you’re innocent?”
“We told you Derek Lang was running a house of prostitution,” Matt said.
“And bringing women illegally into the Port of Baltimore,” the detective added.
Matt winced. He hadn’t disclosed that information, but Harrison had figured it out. “We were hoping to leave out that part.”
Elizabeth jumped into the conversation. “His death has stopped the traffic, and we don’t want to involve any of the women, but we want to make sure we’re not murder suspects. That’s why we’re meeting like this.”
Leave the women out of it, Matt said, projecting the suggestion to the detective. Leave the women out of it. They don’t have to be involved. Lang was dead, and Delano and Forester were innocently involved.
He said the silent words repeatedly, and they watched the man’s face, both praying that he would come to the right conclusions.
“What exactly happened at Lang’s bordello last night?” Harrison asked.