Ratio: A Leopold Blake Thriller (A Private Investigator Series of Crime and Suspense Thrillers) (4 page)

“The hotel and convention center use entirely separate ventilation systems,” he said to his younger companion. “I just don’t see how we can make it work.”

The other man frowned. “Both systems are in the basement level, and in the same room. We only need to get in there.” He lit up a new cigarette. “If we can get some time alone, we can work on the ventilation systems without being seen.”

“And if we can’t? Someone from maintenance will need to let us into the room, and he’ll want to stay in there with us.”

“I can keep him occupied. Setting it up shouldn’t take much longer than a few minutes. You can do that while I keep someone else busy.”

The older man gave it some thought, nodding his head. “Should be eight screws to remove the access panel, that’s one minute. Take the device out of the toolbox, set the timer and switch it on, another minute. Set the device inside and tape it in place, another minute. Put the access panel back on, another minute. Add on an extra minute for good measure, and it’s five minutes total.” He looked at his companion, not much more than a kid. Skinny, with pale skin. “Can you keep an American busy for five minutes without him getting suspicious?”

The kid smiled. “I can keep an American idiot busy for half an hour, just talking about nothing. Americans get nervous when it’s quiet.”

“Good. I can plant the device, no problem. All we need to do is get our foot in the door.”

“We got the aliases, right?” 

“All set up. We just need someone to book us in.” The older man lit a new cigarette. Digging out his cell phone from beneath a pile of print outs, he double-checked a number and dialed. The call went through and was picked up on the second ring. 

“Building Operations,” a man’s voice said. “Rick Gustafson.” 

“Yes, hello, this is LS Coventry Electrical,” the Korean said, trying to control his accent. “We’re contracted to maintain your ventilation and heating systems. I understand you’re still under warranty? From our records, I see it has been a year since your last system inspection and maintenance. To keep your warranty up to date, we need to make sure you’re booked in.”

“Our usual service company is Ace Commercial, and our inspection isn’t due until…” Rick paused. “As a matter of fact, all of our inspections are up to date. We had someone in today already, checking the mechanicals.”

The Korean felt his pulse quicken.
They weren’t due a visit until next month.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Did they check the electrical system?”

“No, just the HVAC hardware and ducts.”

He relaxed a little. “Yes, this is a different issue. Your warranty covers all moving and non-moving electrical components, as well as the software and firmware that controls the environmental controls. We look after the full infrastructure, not just the mechanics. It all needs maintaining properly, otherwise you forfeit your cover.”

“What happened to the usual guys?” 

“LS Coventry bought Ace Commercial last month and took over all of their client accounts. Because of that, and to introduce our company to our newest clients, we are offering a half-price service. With our newly expanded fleet and crews, we have unlimited scheduling at this point in time.”

The Operations Manager took a moment. “You got references?” 

“Yes, sir. Full references. We also offer an initial consultation, free of charge. If you want to book us in to check your systems, I can give you the details while we’re there.” 

“Free consultation?”

“You got it. No charge, no obligation. We can be in and out in less than an hour. If you’ve got any issues, we can spot them early.”

He heard Rick take a deep breath, apparently weighing up his options. “Can you get here today?” he said, eventually. “We’ve got a busy weekend coming up. Everything needs to be perfect before then.” 

“You got it. We can be there in a couple of hours.”

“Ask for me when you get here. I’ll get security to let you through.”

“See you then.” The Korean hung up.

The kid sucked down the last of his cigarette and chuckled. “Man, you can spin a lie pretty good,” he said, switching to their native language.

The older man tossed the phone onto the table. “That’s why I’m in charge.” He picked up another sheaf of paper, a printed map of downtown Seattle. “You ready for this?”

“Yeah,” the kid said, looking over. “Like the boss said. Piece of cake.” He looked over at the wooden crate. “Nothin’ to it.” 

“Don’t get cocky. This is some serious hardware we’re playing with. One mistake, we’re dead, along with everybody else. This isn’t a suicide mission.”

“Relax. Nothin’ bad’s gonna happen. No mistakes.”

The older man frowned. “Check the devices again.”

The kid crushed out his cigarette. “Whatever.” He stalked off toward the crate. “Sooner this is over, sooner we go home. Hero’s welcome. Time we got what’s coming to us.” 

“Be careful what you wish for, Jun-yeong. You might just get it.”

“You worry too much, Seong-min.”

The older man sighed and turned back to his paperwork. “And you don’t worry enough.”

Chapter 4

AFTER A HEAVY lunch of
patatas bravas
,
fufú de plátano
, and more cold beer, Leopold headed back to his apartment on foot, hoping to work off some of the calories. The dense early afternoon traffic helped, forcing him to weave in and out of the packed crowds as he fought his way toward East 71
^st
, a quiet residential area tucked away behind 5
^th
Avenue. He increased his pace, feeling sweat prickling his forehead, and headed for his apartment building at the end of the block. 

Franco, one of the complex’s doormen, nodded as Leopold approached. He held the door open, tipping his cap. 

“Afternoon, Franco,” Leopold said, stepping through. The cool air from the lobby’s air conditioning was a welcome reprieve. He headed for the elevators, smiling at the receptionist as he passed, and punched in the code that granted access to his apartment. 

A short ride later, the doors slid open with a quiet rumble. Leopold’s entrance hall opened up ahead, with a clear view through to the double-height living room and kitchen at the far end of the penthouse, complete with panoramic view over east Manhattan and central park. Leopold shrugged off his suit jacket, tossing it over a coat stand as he passed through the hallway, heading for the kitchen. 

“You’re late.” A deep voice announced as Leopold entered the room. A tall, powerfully built man stood behind the countertop, dressed in an immaculately tailored Armani suit, the black fabric almost as dark as his skin. A crisp white shirt and red tie completed the look. “And you missed your training session.” 

“Finance meetings always make me hungry,” Leopold said, taking a seat at the breakfast bar. “I grabbed some lunch.” 

“I don’t think you quite get how this works. If you break your itinerary, you tell me.” 

“Relax, Jerome. You’re my bodyguard, not my nanny.” 

“Maybe we should re-evaluate my job title.” Jerome frowned. “If you’re going to insist on going out alone, maybe stay away from crowded restaurants with known organized crime affiliations.”

“I should have known you’d have me followed.” 

“And take it easy on the beer.”

Leopold sighed. “Anything else you’re not telling me? You got my phone bugged too?”

“Say ‘hi’ to Mary for me next time.”

“There is such a thing as personal privacy.”

“Not in this line of work.” Jerome turned and snatched a stack of papers from the countertop. “Speaking of which, you got a message.” He handed them over. “Came through on the fax machine while you were out.”

“Fax machine? Who the hell uses fax machines any more? This isn’t the Dark Ages.” He took the papers and studied the text. The words “United States Government” were printed in large type along the letterhead. “Ah, that explains it.” 

“Looks like an old friend is calling in a favor.”

Leopold scanned the document. “I wouldn’t say he was a friend.” He looked up. “And I wouldn’t say this was a favor, exactly.” 

“He’s a paying client.” 

“I’m not running a security firm here, and I don’t need the money.” 

Jerome smiled. “I don’t think this is a man you say ‘no’ to. He wants a couple of security personnel on hand for a weekend conference. Nothing big or showy. Just in and out with the minimum fuss.” 

“Maybe we refer him.”

“He wants you.”

Leopold shook his head. “He wants
you
. I’m just the guy who owes him.”

“Looks like a simple job. An excuse to get away for a few days. At least I’ll be able to keep an eye on you.” 

“Fine, whatever.” Leopold massaged his temples. “But what’s in it for me?” 

“You do remember what the FTC was planning, right?” 

“Don’t remind me.”

“I think you owe him this much. A few days bumming around a hotel isn’t much to ask in return for avoiding a massive antitrust lawsuit.”

“You’re starting to sound like my lawyer.”

Jerome smiled again. “Like I said, maybe we need to change my job title.”

“You’re not getting a raise.” Leopold took a deep breath. “Okay, so it looks like we’re going to Seattle. What’s the plan?”

“A party of two needs private security for a long weekend,” said Jerome. “Shouldn’t be a problem.” 

“If it’s a simple job, why do we need twelve pages of instructions?” 

“You know Jack Melendez.”

“I know the kind of trouble he gets into, sure.” 

“Looks like he’s learned from experience,” Jerome said, reading through the faxed document. “It’s all here: Melendez is a former US Ambassador to Chile, and was tipped for the Presidency two years ago, until he was abducted from an economic summit meeting in Santiago. He underwent major brain surgery to remove an explosive device from inside his skull.” He paused. “And, as if that wasn’t enough, he’s now back on the campaign trail. He’s apparently won a lot of favor. Likely to represent his party in the general election this year, but still a relative unknown as far as the public is concerned.”

“For now, at least,” Leopold said. “What are your thoughts?” 

“I’d normally suggest a much larger team, but the instructions are explicit. He just wants the two of us.” Jerome leafed through the rest of the document. “And there’s a woman.”

“Isn’t there always?” Leopold reached across the breakfast bar and grabbed a bottle of water from the mini-fridge. He unscrewed the cap and took a deep swig. “Details.”

“Doctor June Kato, his date for the weekend,” Jerome said. “She’s the neurosurgeon who had stones enough to take the bomb out of his head.”

Leopold rolled his eyes. “Typical love story. Guy meets girl. Girl surgically removes explosive from guy’s brain.” He downed the rest of the water. “Sounds like a match made in heaven.” 

Jerome kept reading. “Three-day weekend in Seattle, both Melendez and the woman are giving talks at separate meetings at the Washington State Convention Center. They’re staying at the hotel next door.”

“What’s the conference?” 

“Some government drive to get more people interested in math and science,” said Jerome. “Melendez is talking economic theory, Kato is down to speak about medical advancements. There’s going to be a lot of eyes on this.”   

“Sounds like Jack’s still got a knack for showing up where the cameras are,” said Leopold. “I’m still surprised he never made it to President.”

“Which brings me to the next issue.” Jerome pointed to a paragraph near the top of one of the pages Leopold was studying. 

“Seriously?”

“Looks like our incumbent has the same idea.” 

Leopold read the paragraph aloud. “‘The President of the United States is due to appear on the first day of talks. He will give a brief press statement before attending the keynote speech.’”

“Looks like Mr. Melendez isn’t the only one with a marketing team,” said Jerome.

“I’m sure both camps want to keep them separate. What’s the living situation?” 

“Melendez is due to check in to the First Hill Suites Hotel, just next door to the convention center. They have the entire floor sealed off for the visit. He and Kato want to share the same suite, or at least stay on the same floor, but don’t want it publicly known they are dating.”

Leopold grimaced. “Just to make our lives easier, I guess.” 

“The Melendez campaign people seem to think it will look best if he has a woman on his arm for this election, and she’s the one they’re grooming for the job.”

“I don’t see why the Secret Service can’t handle this,” Leopold said. “We’re only a few months from the election. Melendez already proved he’s a runner.”

“After the fiasco in Santiago, the Melendez people want private security for the foreseeable future.” He paused. “I guess they have trust issues.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

Jerome ignored him. “We’ll need to deal with suite requests, food, schedules, and it says here they want to go out on the town.”

“They don’t want much, do they?”

“They want romance, and not just in the bedroom.” Jerome leafed through the file and pointed to a block of text. “At least, I’m reading between the lines.”