Chapter 43
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
The next morning, Laura arrived at the coffee shop to see Det. Cagney waiting for her, alone. They exchanged greetings and Laura was pleasantly surprised the detective had already gotten her coffee for her. She gratefully accepted the cup, savoring the warmth it brought to her hands.
“Thanks,” she said offering a small smile and scanning the room. “Where’s Det. Stone?”
Det. Cagney explained since this was an organized crime case, Det. Stone had turned it over to him. She had only been there before to bridge the gap. Laura understood the reasoning behind the change in detectives, but she couldn't help the disappointment. She had grown accustomed to Det. Stone's presence and had found comfort in her familiar face during these challenging times.
“Is that a problem?” he asked.
Laura shook her head. “No,” she assured him. “I just liked having a familiar person to deal with. This is all rather scary. ”
“You’re doing fine, Ms. Turner,” he said, his voice filled with confidence and reassurance. “I won’t mislead you. Tomorrow night is only the first step. After that, you’ll have to testify against Smith, unless we can cut a deal with him. Potential witnesses against him have been intimidated into withdrawing their complaints before. I hope you’re in this for the long haul.” He captured her gaze with his.
Laura again had that sinking feeling in her belly. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he raised his eyebrow at her. Something in the way Det. Cagney looked at her caused a stirring deep within Laura. The next moment, he looked away and it was gone.
“I intend to do the best I possibly can,” Laura said, squaring her shoulders.
He nodded in approval and didn’t address the look they’d shared. “You’re a strong woman,” he remarked. “Now, let’s get to the details. First, we have to get you to the Frog. Are you familiar with that area at all?”
Laura admitted that she wasn't familiar with the location, explaining that it was on the opposite side of town from where she lived, and she didn't own a car. She mentioned the possibility of her father driving her, but Det. Cagney expressed concerns about involving more people in the operation. They needed a cover story that would ensure her safety without raising suspicions.
“Did you tell Smith you don’t have a car?” Cagney asked.
“I did,” she confirmed. “Is that a problem?”
“Maybe not. Would your father loan you his car? I’d rather not take any chances by involving other civilians, but if you could say that you borrowed a car, that could work. What we’ll do is this – I’ll have someone come to your home beforehand to set you up with the wire and the money. You go to meet Smith and get him to say as much as possible. If you can get him to name his boss, so much the better. Don’t push it too far, though. We don’t want him to get suspicious. Once you’ve paid him, you leave, and we’ll move in and arrest him. We’ll have several plainclothes officers in the bar to keep an eye on you and make sure Smith doesn’t manage to slip away.”
When Laura got home that night, she called her father and arranged to borrow his car. At first, he tried to insist that he should drive her, but eventually he gave in. On Saturday, Laura got up and tried to go about her day as normally as possible. She gave the children a rare treat that afternoon by taking them to the movies. She had found a budget theater re-running The Lion King in preparation for the new live action version. Abby chattered about it the whole way back to Suzie’s house. Tim was quiet, still enjoying his popcorn and Laura had been able to get the evening’s plans out of her mind for a while. She told Suzie and the kids she couldn’t stay for dinner that night. Abby and Tim immediately wanted to know what she was going to do instead. She didn’t feel she could explain, so she left that part to Suzie. She picked up her father’s car and arrived home in time to make a quick sandwich before the police technician arrived at 7:30 pm to set up her wire. Laura’s eyes lit up when Det. Stone followed the technician inside.
“I thought you might feel more comfortable with me around,” the detective said.
“Thank you for coming. I’m starting to have all sorts of butterflies, moths, and possibly bats flying around inside,” Laura replied. “Will you come with me to the bar? ”
“Yes, the captain said that should be safe enough. When we get close, I’ll drop down out of sight, but I’ll still be there.”
“That will really help me a lot. I can’t thank you enough.”
“’Just doing my job, ma’am, just doing my job,’” Det. Stone replied and they both chuckled at the reference to Dragnet .
Once the wire was set up and the police technician showed her what she needed to know about it, it was time for them to go. They drove to the bar, with Det. Stone dropping down out of sight when they were a few blocks away. She wished Laura luck as she got out of the car and headed for the door of the bar.
She walked into the bar and looked around. Everything seemed to be normal. It wasn’t a seedy smoke-filled dive as she had imagined it would be, just a regular bar. She wondered how she would identify John Smith, but he spotted her right away. He was an imposing man, large and fit. “ Ms . Turner, I presume,” he said.
“You must be John Smith. How do you do?” Laura said politely.
“I do fine, thank you.” He added a negligent shrug, dismissing her. “Give me the money and I’ll see you here again next week.”
“Not so fast.” She called on her inner-Suzie and straightened despite her inner turmoil. “I want proof Jake really owed you this money. I’d like to see the IOU, please.”
“You want proof, really? What is this, a set-up?” Smith said. “I don’t carry around paperwork like that.”
“Then you can go get it from wherever you keep it. I’m not giving you five thousand dollars without proof I owe it, and for that matter, a receipt,” Laura insisted, although she was shaking inside.
Smith stared at her for a moment, then said, almost politely, “Are you serious with that shit?”
“You better believe I am. As of this moment, I have no proof that I even owe you anything and now you’re telling me you won’t give me proof that I paid even if I do. What’s stopping you from pocketing the cash for yourself and telling your boss I wouldn’t pay?”
“I’m a professional.”
“Then act like one. Write me a receipt and show me the IOU. Surely your boss kept it.”
“Of course he has it. But he doesn’t pull out stuff like that just because someone like you asks to see it.” He sneered at her, like she was an irritating bug instead of a human being.
Keep him talking. “Well, he’d better this time.” She raised her chin and challenged, “Who is your boss, anyway? I think I have a right to know who this money is going to.”
“It’s none of your business who I work for. I’m the one you’ll be dealing with until the money is paid off,” Smith declared. “Now hand it over. I’ll see what I can do about the IOU next week.”
“No.” Laura squared her jaw and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I’ll wait right here while you go and get it.”
“How about I just take the money from you?” He took a threatening step forward.
“In such a public place?” She stood her ground and gritted her teeth. “I’ll start yelling and then where will you be? Because I admit I’m not the gambler my ex- husband was, but I think the odds of your boss having to bail you out of jail are pretty damn strong.”
“It doesn’t do you any good to be seen here with me, either,” Smith tried.
“Why is that?” Laura realized she had him at that point. “This is a perfectly nice place.”
She walked over to the bar and ordered a glass of wine, pointedly ignoring Smith.
A few moments later, she turned around and he was gone. She only hoped the police had understood what she had done and were following him to his boss. In the meantime, she decided to enjoy her drink. God knew she’d earned it.
About half an hour later, Det. Cagney arrived to tell her they had followed Smith to a restaurant owned by Marco Donatelli. They had managed to get someone inside and had seen Smith with Donatelli. This was the break they had been hoping for. Smith was now on his way back. “What made you ask for the IOU? And a receipt? Our recording guy about swallowed his gum when you said that.”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Laura said. “I didn’t know what he would do, but thought it was worth a try.”
“It was quick thinking all right, but try not to have any more good ideas, Ms. Turner. He could have had a gun and taken you with him to Donatelli’s. That would have thrown a real wrench in the works,” Det. Cagney cautioned her. “When he comes back and shows you the IOU, give him the money without any more argument and leave, receipt or no receipt. We’ll handle the rest.”
“Yes, sir.” The honorific slipped easily from her lips, and her longing for James left such an acute ache in her chest, she checked for blood on her shirt. Pulling on her willpower, she focused her attention on the Detective. I’ll be careful and do that.”
Cagney gave her an approving nod and strode away. As he left, she could have sworn she heard a whispered, “Good girl,” but couldn’t tell if it came from the detective, or the memory of James that was always in her heart.
A few minutes later, John Smith walked back into the bar and came to the table where Laura was now sitting. “One IOU,” he said, slapping it down in front of her and sliding into the seat beside her. “Now stop fucking around and give me the money.”
“Just a moment,” Laura said, unfolding it.
The IOU was a sheet of yellow legal paper, with unfamiliar handwriting that read:
This paper represents a debt of $50,000 owed by Jake and Laura Taylor to John Smith, acting as agent for the Garibaldi Import Export Group, Inc. This debt carries an interest rate of 10% per month, compounded.
At the bottom were signatures Jake Taylor and Laura Taylor, in Jake’s handwriting, dated April 23, 2016, and below that, in completely different handwriting from either of the others an addendum had been made: In recognition of Ms. Turner’s loss, as of this date, February 18 th , 2019, the interest rate has been adjusted to 5% per month, compounded, with weekly payments of $5000 to be made, applied to the bill outstanding.
“How much of this payment goes to the principle?” Laura asked suspiciously.
Smith heaved a sigh and took a bottle of beer off the bartender, popping the cap off on the edge of the bar. “Swear to god, lady, you’re giving me a migraine. Says right there in black and white, paid to the bill outstanding. You pay the interest first, then the principle.”
“That’s outrageous.” Despite Det. Cagney’s warning, Laura’s sense of justice burned hot in her chest. “And wait a minute. This IOU is only for fifty thousand. You told me one hundred.”
“I told you, he took it out over two years ago,” Smith replied. “You never heard of compound interest? Now sign the goddamn thing, give me the money and let’s get on with it.”
“Oh, now it matters if I sign it.”
“Lady, I got to admit, as big of a pain in my ass as you are, this Erin Brockovich thing you’re doing is kind of cute, but I’m swinging back to pissed off now. Yes, now you fucking sign it, and add the amount you paid. That’s the fucking IOU and the fucking receipt. I’ll bring it every week as you pay it down so you can see now one’s screwing you over.”
“Except, you know, by making me pay it at all.”
“So help me God, lady, if you don’t get on with it, I will pay the goddamn debt myself just for the privilege of shooting you.”
The next moment, three men appeared around them, swiftly identifying themselves as police officers and closing in on Smith. They wasted no time in apprehending him, placing him in handcuffs.
Smith's sneering face turned bitter as he glared at Laura. “You set me up. You'll regret this, Ms. Turner,” he spat, his voice filled with venom. “You have no fucking idea who you are messing with.”
As the commotion settled, Det. Cagney approached Laura, his voice filled with gratitude. “You really helped a lot tonight, Ms. Turner. Do be careful the next few days. We’ll want you to come in on Monday and make a formal statement, but we may not need your testimony if have enough evidence to flip Smith. We’ll let you know. Will you stay with your father tonight when you return the car?”
Laura hesitated for a moment, contemplating Det. Cagney's concern. His expression reminded her of James when he was most protective and caring. Could it be mere coincidence or her mind playing tricks on her? “No, my father will take me back to my place,” Laura replied, trying to convince herself that she could handle things on her own.
Det. Cagney's concern didn't waver. “I don’t think that’s a great idea, Ms. Turner. Please reconsider.”
The echoes of past experiences tugged at Laura's subconscious, making her question her choices.
“At least call if anything happens. I mean anything. An unfamiliar number calls, you see a car you don’t know parked outside — anything. In the meantime, plan on being at police headquarters to make your statement first thing Monday. Organized Crime is on the third floor.”
There was that look again. Was she going crazy? It seemed like there were Doms everywhere around her.