There Are No Accidents Page 10

  “Don’t worry,” she said, patting him on his arm. “They’re professionals… they know how to deal with men like this and Gary Carter is no exception.” Tom conceded with a smile as Gina continued, “You know, life is strange. Our decisions are often not our own. I’m thinking that Lauren had a hand in this, do you agree?”

  “I do. I believe Lauren has helped Frances and me before.”

  “I’d like to hear about it sometime, but now, let me call Ricardo, I think he’s in town.”

  *

  Things were moving fast. Gina’s cousins were indeed in town and Gina arranged for Tom to meet with them at 6 p.m. that evening. Tom felt quite conspicuous seated at the bar. His dark combed-back hair and Mediterranean looks were similar to all the other patrons, due to his Italian heritage, but he was aware that he was the stranger in the group. Several pairs of eyes shot hostile stares in his direction, but once satisfied by his non-threating behavior, they continued their drinking. Tom was an experienced private investigator, he knew how to blend in and act aloof. He was no longer a cop, for if he were, these guys would sniff him out. So he relaxed, sipped his beer and kept one eye on the door.

  Two men in dark suits entered the bar, recognized Tom and greeted him warmly. The room’s atmosphere instantly changed and the tense demeanor of the clientele relaxed. The Italian hosts steered Tom towards a quiet booth and once the reminiscing was over, they began their intimate discussion. Tom explained the situation in depth; how Gary Carter’s sentence was appealed and cut short and how he was stalking Francis. He told them about LAPD’s failure to act, despite the current restraining order. “They don’t understand the urgency of his threat. Gary needs money and he wants to get even. He’s not fooling around. Next time he’ll play this game for real and he’ll seize Frances.” There was desperation in Tom’s voice.

  “You know Tom, we like you,” said Ricardo. “You got Gary. If that murder charge hadn’t stuck, then I’d have taken care of him myself, thirteen years ago. You don’t need to persuade us.”

  “Yeah, we’re in… you had us at ‘hello’,” and Tony laughed. “Remember that movie Tom? That was a great movie.” Tom just nodded.

  “Yeah, yeah, he likes the movies,” Ricardo said, with a dismissive wave. “We’ll do this favor for you… for your Frances… and for Lauren. You see, I loved her.” As he spoke these words, his face softened, his eyes glazed and his mouth gently transformed into an angelic smile. This man had a heart, despite his profession.

  Tom reverted to the business of Gary. “I just want to frighten him. Put the fear of God into him so he’ll leave us alone.”

  “Consider it done!” said Ricardo, now fully composed.

  “Yeah, we’ll take care of him,” said Tony, giving Tom a friendly slap on the arm as he called to the barman, “Frankie, the usual and let’s have a plate of your meatballs too.”

  At last Tom could relax. These men could be counted on to do the job, unlike his old police colleagues. They talked for a couple hours over plates of pasta and meatballs in fresh tomato sauce. “These taste just like my mom’s… so good!” Tom said, recalling his Italian childhood. “We had to speak Italian at home… it was the rule in our house for all of us kids and there were five of us.”

  “Same for us,” said Ricardo. “Sunday was the family day. My mom would prepare food three days in advance and my aunts would bring more. They were wonderful days. So you’re from New Jersey?”

  “Yeah, my grandparents emigrated from Livorno and you?”

  “Ah, can’t you guess? We’re from Palermo, Sicily. But, most of our family are living around Sorrento. We grow lemons. That's our legitimate business… of course, we diversify. Our family has grown and linked with other families, so we have spread our business interests around the world.”

  “So you’re a PI?” asked Tony. Tom nodded. “D’ya know how to get fresh IDs?”

  “Sure, I do. When any of my clients need to disappear, I arrange a new identity. Why d’ya ask?”

  “We’re a guy short. We need someone experienced in that field… someone we can trust. Someone like you Tom.” Ricardo looked him in the eye, anticipating an answer.

  “Did you just offer me a job?”

  “Sure, you’re one of us!”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, it’s a tempting offer. Someday… perhaps?”

  “Think it over. It would be beneficial for both of us. It’s not every day we make such an offer. Capisce?”

  “Si, certo.” Tom’s resurgence of Italian came naturally and the sound of his childhood language was comforting at this stressful time. They rose from the table as blood-buddies and Ricardo promised Tom they’d call, when they’d put the frighteners on Gary. Tom drove home a happier man.

  *

  For two days there was silence. No anticipated call from Ricardo and no threatening call from Gary. Tom and Frances had been like cats on a hot tin roof, sitting only briefly and leaping to attention every time a cell phone rang. On the third day after Tom’s meeting, Ricardo called.

  “I have news,” he announced. “Gary won’t bother you no more,” he said in a strong Italian accent.

  “Thank God! So you think he’s terrified enough to leave us alone?”

  “Yeah, don’t worry, we silenced him.”

  “Thanks for the favor.”

  “It was my pleasure… believe me,” said Ricardo.

  Turning to Frances, Tom announced, “Ok it’s done. They don’t think he’ll bother us again. Let’s celebrate.”

  “Oh, I’m so relieved. What do you think they did?”

  “Don’t ask… they’re professionals! The less we know the better.”

  Chapter 11

  CONSEQUENCES

  A week passed and Tom and Frances were settling once again into normality. They sat together in perfect bliss, drinking their morning coffee and watching the news, until a photo of a familiar face appeared on the TV screen. They were struck dumb and motionless as they listened to the news anchor’s report.

  “Police are conducting enquiries into the death of the convicted murderer, Gary Carter, who served only thirteen years of his twenty-year sentence for the horrific murder of his wife, the beloved TV actress, Lauren Benet-Carter. A statement from LAPD suggests that he died in suspicious circumstances.”

  Tom immediately jumped to his feet.

  “I’m in trouble Frances. I was the one who informed police headquarters of Gary’s whereabouts. They know I wanted him and I had his address.”

  “But they’re your buddies? You have credibility, you’re an ex-cop for God’s sake?”

  “The guys will stand by me, but Andy’s the problem. He hates my guts. Remember I told you he never forgave me for getting what he considered his promotion. He’s gonna come after me—” At that moment, Tom’s rang.

  “Tom, have you seen the news?” It was an ex-colleague from LAPD.

  “Yeah, how did he die?” Tom asked, as he switched to speakerphone to include Frances.

  “He was found swinging on a meat hook, between some beef carcasses in a freezer truck on its way out of state. Not pretty.”

  “Christ!”

  “It looks like the work of the Mafia.”

  “Will Andy buy that?”

  “No. You should expect a visit. You’ll be ok in the long run. This has the mark of a Mafioso killing and even Andy can’t link you to the Mafia. But be careful Tom, he’s vindictive.” Tom thanked his friend for the tip-off, fell into the chair and buried his face in his hands.

  “I’m finished Frances… done for! They’ll trace the phone calls and the meeting. I don’t stand a chance. I’ve served Andy a dish of evidence linking me to the Mafia. He’ll easily confirm my association—”

  “Tom, calm down. There isn’t any evidence.”

  “He has circumstantial evidence. Remember that Gary was convicted on more.”

  “But they’ll go after Ricardo, surely?”

  “No, they won’t. The Mafia will pay off
Andy’s superiors and besides, Ricardo has no motive. I have. They’ll assume it was a contract killing, paid for by me!” Frances’s knees weakened and she too dropped into a chair.

  “But, you only asked Ricardo to frighten Gary? I don’t understand? God! Why did you have to mix us up with the Mafia? Didn’t we have enough to contend with!”

  “We were out of choices. Gary would have abducted you and I had to stop him… fast! It was the only solution.” Tom walked over to Frances, knelt down by her chair and placed his arms around her. He spoke in soft tones, uttering intermittent emotional words. “I love you, I couldn’t let anything happen to you. I love you—” and he broke down. They held onto each other tightly, with a deep awareness of the other’s suffering.

  When Tom felt reasonably composed, he decided to call Ricardo for an explanation. He now had nothing to lose, the police would find the previous transcripts of his calls, so one more wouldn’t tip the balance and he needed to know what happened.

  “Ah… so you know.” Ricardo’s words resonated down the phone. “Shush… don’t talk. Meet me at the bar.” Tom left immediately for this clandestine meeting and as he took a seat beside Ricardo his frustration could no longer be contained.

  “It was on the news! What happened? You were supposed to frighten him, that’s all!”

  “Hey, I got carried away. It was like this… we were putting on the frighteners and he looked me in the eye and denied killing her. He said she was worthless and deserved to die. He was disrespectful, I couldn’t take it, I thought of Lauren and what he did to her, so I killed him. It was a matter of honor.”

  “Christ! You know they’re coming after me, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, they probably will. You know, my young cousin, he got careless. He shouldn’t have disposed of the body that way. That’s not our style nowadays. He watches too many movies,” and he sipped his hot cup of coffee and gestured for another. “When I had that job… they never found them,” he continued. “I’m sorry.” Ricardo sounded genuine and Tom was not in a position to argue with a Mafioso.

  “The detective in charge of this case is an old rival of mine. He’s gonna try and pin this murder on me. They have no solid evidence but they recognize your trademark so they’ll say it was a contract killing.”

  “You know Tom, we have an agreement with the top brass, that we don’t kill police. But, if you want me to take this guy out, as a favor—”

  “No! Enough killing! He’s not my favorite person, but I don’t want more blood on my hands.” Tom had been living with the consequences of letting an innocent man serve a murder sentence. Now that man’s dead, he couldn’t cope with anymore.

  “So what ya gonna do Tom?” asked Ricardo.

  “I have to disappear… I have no choice. I’ve left a trail of trying to rid myself of Gary Carter; a restraining order, police statements and finding his address. They’ll trace my calls and these meetings too. I have to go somewhere… now!” Ricardo wrote down a phone number and passed the note to Tom.

  “Time to hit the mattresses Tom. Call, this guy… from a different phone, say you’re a friend of mine and he’ll take you to a safe house. We can get you out of the country without a trace… no problem and then you arrange a new identity. Ok?” Tom felt instant relief and thanked Ricardo. “Remember, I like you… you’re one of us now. You’re family.” The two men stood up for goodbyes, Tom stretched out his hand but Ricardo ignored it, instead he grabbed him by the shoulders and throwing his huge arms around Tom’s body, he bear-hugged him, squeezing hard until Tom gasped for breath. “Arrivederci… we’ll meet again, soon. Until then, don’t worry.” His last words held some significant hope that Tom would indeed remain a free man. But Tom’s freedom came at a price, now that he was beholden to the Mafia.

  *

  Tom and Frances had one day to organize his departure. Tom instructed one of his trusted PI men to stay on their gate and alert him if there was any unusual activity. He packs only essentials while Frances creatively invented the breakdown of their marriage. As a writer, this task comes easily and she attached Word files and a diary to her personal computer, recording Tom’s so-called callous behavior and affairs with other women. They worked fast and both are scrupulous in their intention to deceive the police in their forthcoming investigation.

  “Andy likes the element of surprise, so he’ll arrive here at dawn. Remember, that he expects to find me at home and when he doesn’t, he’ll ask to search the property. You must demand to see a search warrant, before you let him in. I’m betting that he won’t have had time to get one and he’ll have to go’n find a judge to issue and sign the warrant. This will give you time to get stuff in order, but when he returns, he’ll be pissed and nasty, can you handle it?”

  “Of course I can. I lived through Paranoia!” She said, smiling bravely.

  “That’s my girl,” Tom said. “Now let’s write you a letter of goodbye.”

  They sat together composing Tom’s letter to Frances, telling her that he was leaving her for another woman. “They won’t believe you at first and that’s when you’ll show them this letter, but do keep a copy! If he hounds you for more evidence of the marriage breakdown, engage my attorney,” and Tom handed her a name. “Under no circumstances give Andy or any LAPD officer other written information. Do everything through the attorney.”

  Frances listened carefully to these important instructions, aware that their future depended on her keeping a cool head.

  Tom continued. “List any withdrawings of non-specific amounts of cash, to support my spending on entertaining another women. Find old movie tickets, concerts etc. that we’ve attended and make a case for infidelity. My attorney’s an old friend and he’ll support your compiling the necessary information. My work schedule, being so erratic, will fit with this plan.”

  She agreed and together they concocted a story that was fit for a novel.

  They timed their last few hours together and planned how to stay in contact. They agreed that there would be no phone calls, no email and no traceable contact. His departure had to look real. But there was one plan they devised, which if conducted properly, would let them communicate surreptitiously. They would stay in contact through blogging. They chose two sites, Tom would blog his messages to Frances on one and she would respond via the other. This was a clever invention of communication which they hoped would be untraceable.

  *

  At 2 a.m. they said their tearful goodbyes, not knowing when or where they would meet again. They exchanged words that barely justified their intense feelings for one another.

  “Promise me you’ll stay safe and free?” Frances said, her voice breaking now.

  “I promise,” he placed his hands around her face, framing it as he spoke. “Frances… love of my life… trust me to put this right. Know that our life together is worth everything to me and I will send for you when the time is right. Trust me darling?” His tone was serious.

  “I trust you with my life,” Frances replied. “Trust me too? I won’t let you down and I’ll be ready.”

  They kissed tenderly as parting lovers. “I’m going now,” he said. “I want you to close your eyes and remember this moment… until we meet again.” Frances closed her eyes and he kissed each eyelid, as if to seal his presence. She held that impression with her eyes tight shut until she heard the door closing behind him. She sat and listened to the sound of his footsteps fading into the distance as they tapped out a decrescendo of goodbye. The click of a car door, a humming engine resembling a chorus of cicadas in momentum, preparing to transport her soulmate across a boundary and into a safe existence.

  Tom had disappeared into the night and Frances was now alone. Her PI shadow stayed on the gate to watch and report the expected dawn raid, then he too would disappear. Tom had deliberately withheld his immediate plans from Frances, knowing that the less she knew the better for them both. He’d learnt that if you need to keep a secret… you tell no one, especially the woman you love.
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  *

  Sleep had evaded me this night and I had lain awake since Tom left. As expected, I heard the screech of tires as Andy’s dawn raiders encircled the house. The knock on the door was loud. I paused for effect before enquiring who was the other side of my locked door.

  “Detective Andy West of the Los Angeles Police Department, open the door Ma’am,” Andy’s voice was loud and clear and almost triumphant in its tone.

  “What’s wrong?” I answered with my prepared question. “Has Tom had an accident?” I said, in a panic stricken voice, as I played the part of a distraught woman.

  “No Ma’am. We’re here to question Tom. Please open the door?”

  I told him that I first needed to verify his ID There followed a moment’s silence before Andy spoke again. “If you open the door Ma’am, I can show you my ID?”

  “No, don’t want to risk that.” I replied and asked for the address of his police station. Impatiently, Andy reeled off the address. “I’ll phone them for verification and make a decision,” I said and walked off to formally make the call, for the record, but of course, I knew Andy’s station… This was all part of the game that Tom and I had concocted. On return, I acknowledged that he was indeed Detective West and still speaking through the closed door, I asked him what he wanted.

  “We’re here to question Tom regarding a serious matter,” he stated in an official manner.

  “He’s not here,” I replied.

  “Do you know where he is?”

  “No,” I answered. “Tom’s gone… he’s left me,” and I began to sniffle.

  “Open the door Ma’am!” He sounded irritated, so I cracked it open and peered at him with tearful eyes. “We need to search your property.”

  “I’d like to see your search warrant?” I demanded.

  “Of course,” Andy replied, looking over his shoulder and summoning his junior officer who stepped forward and whispered in his ear. “Ah… we don’t actually have it with us,” said Andy, looking further irritated. “Look, we just want to gather some information. This may help you too?” he slyly suggested. Tom had intuitively predicted this scenario so I launched into our rehearsed scene.