Chapter 7 #3
“I’ll get your email and send you the video clip we have of him.
We’ve got this Sizemore fellow riding a motorcycle past the pizzeria after Ms. Monroe enters, and then another clip of him on the next street over, where he meets up with Granger and Harrison and speaks with them, just before they park in the alley and then go around to the front of the restaurant where they launched their attack.
Sizemore waits until he sees Ms. Monroe being loaded into their SUV then he leaves.
I’ve already got a warrant in the works to bring Sizemore in for a conspiracy charge on the kidnapping, and once we can talk to him, I’m positive we’ll be able to find out who else he was working with. ”
“That’s great news, Detective.” Constance smiles at me over the phone sitting between us. “I had no idea anyone else was following me. If you can track down who paid him to come after me, we can hopefully put this matter to rest without anyone else getting hurt.”
“Speaking of people being hurt, one of my associates went to Mount Sinai yesterday to speak to your friend, Melissa Neilan. We’ve ordered a patrolman to stand guard at her room while she’s in the hospital, just in case this attack was targeted against her, as well.”
“I appreciate that, Detective,” Constance says. “To be honest I’ve been more worried for her than for myself.”
“Don’t be,” the detective replies. “I’m almost certain she was just collateral damage, which is what I’m afraid you’re going to be if we don’t get this sorted out soon.
Mr. Luciani, Ms. Monroe, are you certain there isn’t more that you can tell me regarding who, specifically, might be willing to go through such lengths to harm you? ”
“We’d like to know the answer to that just as much, if not more, than you do,” I say, deflecting the question.
“Please send us that clip of this Sizemore fellow, and we’ll see if we recognize him from anywhere else.
” I recite my email address to the detective, then tell him, “We’ll call you immediately if we think of anything else or have any updates.
Please, do the same, Detective Tillman.”
“I understand,” the detective says. “Take care Ms. Monroe, Mr. Luciani,” he adds before ending the call.
Constance and I both lean back in our chairs, lost in thought. “I guess we’ll have to just wait until the police round up this guy on the motorcycle, Sizemore, and see what we can find out from him. Do you think he might be able to lead us to Irina?”
My phone dings with a new e-mail, which is from Detective Tillman.
Instead of replying to Constance, I pull up the attached video clip and get up from my seat, walking around my desk to take the chair beside her so we can watch together.
The first clip is from outside the pizzeria, Constance walking inside.
A few seconds later, Tony Buck glides by in his black SUV.
While Tony can be seen turning around in the street and pulling up to the curb opposite the restaurant, a sparkling emerald-green sports bike slows as it nears the front doors.
The rider, also wearing a green helmet and jacket, glances around, then the bike roars and zips out of sight.
That clip ends, and I pull up the next one attached to the e-mail.
This one is longer and is slower to load.
When it does, it takes me a moment to get it oriented since the video is overlooking an alley and part of the next street over at an odd angle.
The motorcycle rider appears at the edge of the screen, parking his bike with the tail facing the camera.
“That might be how they identified him,” I comment as I point to the license plate.
“It’s too small to read, but I suppose the police have ways to zoom in and enhance it,” Constance says as we continue watching.
The biker pulls out his phone to make a phone call, then gets off the motorcycle and, pulling off his helmet, lights up a cigarette and smokes while lingering at the side of the road.
“They might have used some sort of facial ID, too,” I point out as we get a good look at the young man’s long, rat-like visage.
“He’s got some sort of patches on his jacket,” Constance observes. “Do you think those might mean anything?”
I scroll the video a bit to try to get a better look at the patches on his sleeves and back, which appear to be some sort of stylized black devil or imp creature.
“They don’t mean anything to me,” I tell her as an idea begins to take shape in my mind.
“But I may know someone who can tell us more.” I scroll forward as the biker smokes another cigarette, then watch him throw it down and grind it out underfoot as a Ford Explorer pulls into the alley just underneath the camera, and he walks across the street to talk to the two men who emerge.
“That’s them, the ones who attacked us. The men I killed.” If there’s a slight tremor in her voice, she swallows it immediately, and I feel another surge of pride.
Rat-face walks back across the street to his motorcycle, and I scroll the video forward again as he gets his helmet back into place and cranks up the bike.
He sits on it for a few minutes, until the two men come back into the frame dragging a struggling Constance, who they manhandle into the back of the Explorer before whipping back out into traffic.
The biker watches them leave, then rides off in the opposite direction as the clip comes to an end.
I notice Constance has turned her head away at the tail end of the video, presumably the part where she was shoved into the SUV. “I hope seeing that didn’t bring it all rushing back,” I tell her.
“It did, but I’m okay.” She gives me a wan smile. “So, you think you might be able to get more information about this Jacob Sizemore with your connections? Faster than the police can?”
“The police have to actually find him first. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, but most of the people in this business don’t keep a permanent address.
I have the luxury of being insulated enough from the street level antics that I can have a home.
Most of the men who work for me don’t want to be found so easily, so they maybe get their mail at their mother’s house, or even a P.O.
box. What they don’t do is register a place where any street cop can just stop by and question them any time they like. ”
“So how do you plan to track him down?” Constance asks, raising an eyebrow at me.
“If those patches he was wearing symbolize some sort of affiliation, I can have my associates track him down. Let’s hope they weren’t just for show, and he actually rides with a crew.
If so, then I think I can arrange a meeting with him easily enough.
Let me go talk to Trenton and have him make some calls.
Once that’s done, let’s plan to ride into town.
We can get some lunch later and once we hear from Melissa, we’ll head over to the hospital and visit her. ”
“I take it we’ll be staying together today?” Constance asks as she reaches over to take my hand.
“Oh, I’m afraid you’re going to get absolutely sick of me the next few days,” I tell her with a chuckle.
“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to lock you away in a gilded cage.
Once we’ve dealt with this unpleasantness, you’ll be just as free as I am.
” I don’t miss the slight shiver that passes through her at my words.
Not for the first time the thought occurs to me that I might be driving her away with the realities of this life I live.
I can only hope that in the days to come, I can show her how much better things can be for the two of us.
“I’m sorry for all of this,” I say as I lift her hand to my lips to kiss her fingers.
“I promise you, it will get better. I adore you, firefly, and I will make this right.”
“I know you do, and you will.” She gives me another wan smile.
“I’m going to go finish getting ready and fix my makeup, make sure we didn’t muss it up too much earlier.
I love you, Max,” she adds as we both get to our feet and walk out of my office.
I watch her until she’s on the stairs heading back to our bedroom, then go to the kitchen where Leonard is still wiping down the counters.
“Do you know where Trenton is right now?” I ask Leonard.
“He’s out front. He sits out there most of the time with that strange robot joint of his when you don’t have him doing something.”
“Thanks, Leonard.” I rap my knuckles on the counter and then head out front where Trenton is sitting in a rocking chair and smoking, just as predicted.
“There you are,” I greet him. “No, don’t get up.” I wave him to stay in his seat as he leans forward, preparing to stand. I take the chair beside him. “I’ll join you. Your friend Ross you were telling me about the other day, is he still an active member of that biker gang? The Savage Kings?”
“Yeah, he’s in good standing as far as I know. He’s just on a little state-mandated vacation. How come, boss? What do you need?”
I pull up the video clip on my phone showing the biker that was following Constance and pass it to Trenton to watch. “The police just sent me that video. They say that the guy on the bike is named Jacob Sizemore. I need someone to pick him up and bring him to me for a conversation.”
“You think the Kings can help with that?” Trenton asks after scrolling through the video.
“He’s wearing some patches that I don’t recognize, but I think they might. If they know who he rides with, I’m hoping I can motivate them to do a job for us and retrieve Mr. Sizemore.”
“I’ll make some calls and gauge their interest, see what they might be willing to do. You want me to keep your name out of it?”
“They know who you work for, right?” I slap him on the arm as I get back to my feet.
“You don’t have to remind them, unless they’re being difficult.
Let me know what you find out, and if they need to talk to me directly just schedule a meeting in town.
I’ll make myself available if they’re willing to lend a hand. ”
Trenton is already making a call as I go back inside the estate.
Trying to think about what needs to be done today, I pull my phone out and text Joey, Tony, and Trenton to get their armor on and arm themselves, and to be ready to go in half an hour.
Then, I head upstairs to take my own advice and make sure Constance and I are wearing the right gear for what has lately become a dangerous undertaking… just taking a ride into the city.