Gone in a Flash (28 page)

Willis and I looked at each other. ‘Oh, shit,’ he said, and grabbed my phone, still out on the table, and called his mother back. It went to voicemail. ‘Mom! Call me! Now! It’s urgent,’ he said and hung up. He looked so terrified I almost burst into tears. I had no idea what to do now. We were in Houston – she was in Washington, D.C.

I turned to the lieutenant and said, ‘She’s at the Hyatt in D.C. at a convention. This man is there with her. It’s a church choir thing. Can you call the D.C. police? Her name is Vera Pugh, from Codderville, Texas. She’s five foot one, gray hair, thin—’

I turned to Willis. He shook his head. ‘I don’t know if she has any birthmarks or anything,’ he said.

Luna was on the phone before the lieutenant had even pulled his out of his pocket. ‘We’ll find her,’ she said to Willis and me. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll find her!’

‘OMG!’ Alicia shouted from the back seat. ‘Listen to this!’ She held up her phone and pushed the speaker button. ‘Hi, Alicia, it’s Mr Jones. I’m in Houston at Mr Big’s house. He’s Russian, I think. Anyway, they’ve got this lady here against her will and I think it’s that guy’s wife, the one who fell off the Driscoll? Anyway, they’re torturing her! The house is in River Oaks, but I don’t know what street—’ And then there was a dead line.

‘Shit!’ Megan said.

‘Oh my God!’ Bess said. ‘Call Mom! Quick!’

‘You call her!’ Alicia said. ‘I don’t know how I can call her and play this back at the same time.’

‘Well,’ Bess said, ‘what you do is—’

‘Jesus, Bess!’ Megan shouted. ‘Just call Mom, for God’s sake!’

‘You don’t have to get all uppity about it!’ Bess said, pulling out her phone. She hit the button for her mom’s cell and waited. Three rings and she picked up.

‘Can’t talk now,’ Mom said.

‘Don’t hang up!’ Bess shouted. ‘We have big news from Mr Jones!’

Alicia grabbed Bess’s phone. ‘Mom, listen! I just got a call from Mr Jones—’

‘Oh my God! How did he get your number?’ Mom demanded.

‘Later, Mom! He called me. Listen!’ And she played Mr Jones’s message.

‘Let me put this on speaker and then play it again. OK, go.’

After she’d played the message for a fourth time, Alicia asked her mom, ‘Now what?’

‘Just sit tight. We’ll get back to you,’ and she hung up.

‘What did she say?’ Bess asked.

‘She said to sit tight,’ Alicia said.

‘What does that mean?’ from Megan.

‘Go home?’ Alicia suggested.

‘Hell, no,’ Megan said, hitting the accelerator. ‘She can call us just as easily at the miniature golf course as she can at home.’

‘You think I should call Mr Jones back?’ Alicia asked.

‘You have his number?’ Bess said, turning around in her seat to gape at her sister.

Looking hang-dogged, Alicia said, ‘I should have told Mom that, huh?’

‘Only if you want Mr Jones arrested!’ Megan said. ‘Me? I don’t care. But he did save your life, Alicia.’

‘True,’ Alicia said. ‘I’ll call him when we get to Codderville.’

‘I want it on record that I think you should tell Mom that guy’s phone number,’ Bess said.

All in agreement, they headed to Codderville.

Mr Jones made his way back to the door of the lab. ‘Mrs Unger?’ he said quietly.

‘Yes?’ she answered.

‘You OK?’ he asked.

‘No,’ she said.

‘I mean, did he hurt you bad?’ Mr Jones thought she might be thinking he meant about the whole situation, rather than just the slap on the face.

‘The slap?’ she said. ‘No. I’ve had worse from his precious Misha before that.’

‘Look, I’m going to try to get out of the house today at some point. I haven’t heard back from Alicia, my friend, and I called her yesterday. I guess she hasn’t checked her messages—’ His phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw Alicia’s name on the screen. He smiled big. ‘Hey! Speak of the devil! Here she is now!’ He punched the phone on and said, ‘Hi, Alicia!’

‘Oh my God, Mr Jones! Are you OK?’

‘Yeah, physically, but Mrs Unger’s being tortured. They pulled off one of her fingernails!’ Mr Jones said.

‘Oh, yuck!’ Alicia said. He could hear her repeating what he’d said to others.

‘You with your family?’ he asked.

‘Just my sisters. My parents went to Houston with our neighbor, Mrs Luna. She’s the pol—’

‘Yeah, the police lady. I sorta met her,’ Mr Jones said.

‘They’re looking for you,’ she said.

‘Well, I’m no friend of the cops, but I think they need to come here with a warrant. Mrs Unger is in the basement in a locked room. There are three other people in the house – wait, what day is it?’

‘Sunday,’ Alicia said.

‘Right. No maids or gardeners on Sunday. So upstairs is Mr Brown, I don’t know his real name, but Mr Big’s real name is— Mrs Unger, what’s Mr Big’s real name?’

‘Vladimir Andronikov. And the address here is 410 Dalton Lane.’

Mr Jones repeated that information, getting the correct spelling of Vlad’s last name from Mrs Unger.

‘And the last guy is Misha, aka Mr Green. He’s bigger than me and a lot meaner. He’s Mr Androno— Whatever, Mr Big’s henchman. So tell them to take him down first.’

‘What about you, Mr Jones?’ Alicia asked, her voice sounding worried.

‘Don’t worry about me, sweet girl. I’ll find a way out of here. Mr Jones always lands on his feet.’ He hung up the phone and turned to the locked door. ‘You hear all that, ma’am?’ he asked.

‘Yes, I did, Mr Jones. By the way, what’s your real name?’

‘Aw, ma’am, I’m not gonna tell you that. I could get in a lot of trouble. But somebody’s coming to help you, OK? You hang in there.’

He’d heard Mr Green throw the deadbolt on the door at the head of the stairs, so he knew there would be no way to get out, and even so, they were probably in the kitchen and if they caught him they would more than likely kill him. And he was afraid it wouldn’t be fast. He was afraid he’d give out Alicia’s name, and start the whole nightmare all over again for her and her family.

But over in the corner, opposite the door to the laundry room, was a window. Big enough, he hoped, to get his shoulders through. Exit Mr Jones, he thought. Ernie Stanton was heading home.

M
y phone rang again while we were still discussing what to do about what. It was Alicia. I said, ‘Hey,’ and she said, ‘Mom, you still with all the cops?’

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘Then put me on speaker.’

I did and told her she had the room. ‘OK. Listen, y’all. I just talked to Mr Jones again. Mr Big’s name is Vladimir Andronikov and he lives at 410 Dalton Street in River Oaks—’

‘I know him!’ Lt Nixon said. ‘Really bad guy.’

‘Mrs Unger is in the basement in a locked room. There are three men upstairs: Mr Big, his henchman Misha, aka Mr Green, and Mr Brown. We don’t know Mr Brown’s real name.’

‘Nobody else?’ Lt Nixon asked.

‘No,’ my daughter said.

‘What about Mr Jones?’

‘I think you’ll find only three men on the premises,’ she said.

‘So your Mr Jones is on the lamb, huh?’ Lt Nixon asked.

‘I’m sorry, I really wouldn’t know anything about that. Mom, take me off speaker, please.’

I did and she said, ‘Wow, is that guy rude or what?’

‘Y’all lock all the doors and windows—’

‘We’re not at home, Mom. We’re playing miniature golf.’

All I could do was shake my head. ‘Just be careful, OK?’ I said and hung up.

Lt Nixon was talking. ‘Luna and me will work on the D.C. problem. Meanwhile, Marshallman, y’all take DeWitt and Mayfair with you to the River Oaks address. You might want to have SWAT back-up. This Andronikov is a seriously deranged sociopath. Now go.’

The four departed quickly, and I turned to my husband and whispered, ‘What do we do?’

‘Weren’t you listening?’ he scolded.

I don’t like to be scolded. I didn’t like it when I was three, and I certainly don’t like it now. But his mother was possibly in the clutches of another dangerous sociopath, so I’d let it go for now. ‘I was still on the phone with Alicia,’ I said.

‘Oh, right. Sorry. We’re with the lieutenant and Luna. Working on the D.C. problem, i.e., my mother.’

‘Who did you talk to in D.C.?’ Lt Nixon asked Luna.

‘I have a friend in the FBI. Agent Lorraine Jones. I figured this would be FBI jurisdiction.’

‘Yeah, ATF agent dead, federal court guards dead. Pretty much FBI worthy. What did she say?’

‘She’s gonna call me back.’

‘Give me her fuckin’ number,’ the lieutenant said.

While he called Special Agent Jones, I dialed Vera’s number again. It went to voicemail.

‘Let go of me!’ I screamed. Unfortunately there were so many people in the lobby, all checking out, and making so much noise, that my words got lost in the mayhem.

Gerald didn’t let go, but dragged me toward the front doors of the hotel. I tried stomping on his foot, but it didn’t slow him down. First time in forty years I’ve regretted giving up high heels.

We were on the street, and he was still dragging me and I was still screaming. Surely somebody would notice a little old lady being dragged off against her will! Surely?

We were half a block from the hotel when we heard sirens. Black SUVs stormed the hotel. I waved my free arm at the people exiting the vehicles, but nobody seemed to notice.

‘Hey!’ someone said.

Gerald had stopped, but hadn’t let up his hold on me. ‘Get out of the way!’ Gerald shouted.

I turned away from the black SUVs to see a black kid, a teenager, in baggy pants and a baggy sleeveless shirt, underwear showing, a hat pulled sideways on his head, and neon-yellow running shoes, standing in Gerald’s way.

‘He’s a killer!’ I yelled at the kid.

‘Oh, yeah?’ The kid said. ‘Me too.’ He pulled a very large gun from behind his back. I think it was a Glock. ‘Let go of the old lady and give me your wallet,’ the kid said.

Gerald didn’t just let go of me, he shoved me away. I can only assume from what happened next that he had a gun hidden on him somewhere. He shot the kid, who shot at him, but somehow the kid missed and got me instead.

Mayfair and DeWitt were in the backseat of Marshallman’s car. The two HPD detectives had to open the back doors for the two APD detectives. They’d come at the mansion from the back, no sirens, parked on a side street, and went to the house on foot. A SWAT team was on the perimeter, locked and loaded. Mann, the older detective, held the warrant, hastily signed by a judge, in his left hand. He hit the doorbell with his right.

Inside they could hear the first several notes of ‘Lara’s Theme’ from
Dr Zhivago
. The door was opened by a large man, in his forties, possibly, with thick wavy brown hair, a face with overly large features, and hands the size of baseball gloves.

‘We have a warrant to search these premises,’ Larry Mann said.

The big guy slammed the door shut and Larry motioned for the SWAT team. They came up fast and used a ramrod to break the door in. Once the door was down, the big guy pointed a large Glock at them and began to shoot, so SWAT team members shot back. The big guy, who Mayfair decided had to be Misha, aka Mr Green, lay dead on the floor. Behind him stood a short, well-built man with his hands up.

‘Mr Brown, I presume?’ Detective Mann said.

‘Yes, sir. I’ll go quietly. Just get me out of this house. These people are crazy.’

‘Where’s Andronikov?’ Mann asked.

‘Who?’ Mr Brown said, his brow furrowed.

‘Mr Big,’ DeWitt supplied.

‘Oh. Downstairs. In the basement with Mrs Unger, I think.’

‘But you’re not sure?’ Mann clarified.

‘No, sir, I’m not positive, no.’

‘Where’s the door to the basement?’ Mayfair asked.

Mr Brown pointed toward the back of the house with his head, his arms still raised. ‘In the kitchen. That way.’

Mann nodded to two patrolmen they’d brought along. ‘Take him downtown,’ he said.

‘Thank you,’ Mr Brown said as they cuffed him. ‘Thank you so much.’

Marshall and Mann sent two of the SWAT members to the kitchen in search of the door to the basement, two more upstairs, and the last two to check out the rest of the first floor.

‘Got it!’ one of the team members called from the back. All four detectives hurried toward the sound of her voice. She and her partner were both standing at the head of the basement steps, the door of which opened into a fabulous kitchen. Mayfair couldn’t help noticing that. She’d always wanted a kitchen like this.

Following the SWAT team members down the stairs into the basement, they saw the door Alicia had described with the hasp and lock, only the lock was missing and the hasp was open. Mayfair nodded at the team member who’d called to them, who turned the handle and opened the door.

Everyone had their guns out and pointing inside the room, where Vladimir Andronikov stood behind Elizabeth Unger, a knife at her throat and a gun in his hand, pointed toward them.

‘Drop it, Vlad,’ Mann said. ‘You know you’re not getting out of this. We have you on so much shit you won’t be seeing daylight in your lifetime.’

‘Then maybe I commit what they call suicide by cop, yes?’ Mr Big said. ‘I slit her throat and then you kill me, yes? Sounds good to me.’

Although Mr Big was shorter than Mrs Unger and his head and body were hidden from view, one of his legs was exposed.

‘Or we could do this,’ Larry Mann said and shot Mr Big in the knee. Mr Big fell back, but the knife had been close enough to Mrs Unger’s skin that it nicked her going down. Mr Big was screaming and the SWAT team members were on him, relieving him of his weapons.

Mayfair ran to Mrs Unger, who’d fallen back against a table and was holding her neck. Blood was seeping through her fingers.

Mayfair grabbed a box of Kleenex off another table, balled a bunch up in her fist, removed Mrs Unger’s hand and placed the wad of tissue against her neck.

‘It’s not serious,’ Mrs Unger said. ‘I don’t think it’s much more than a scratch.’

In a relaxed manner, Larry Mann turned to the others, SWAT members included, and said, ‘You saw him start to shoot me, right?’