Chapter 31
Grandisha was nearing Gina’s neighborhood. As they sped through the city, neither he nor Margie spoke. The siren and lights caused traffic to part, allowing them to proceed unimpeded. The pressure of the hunt was spooking Margie. She finally had to say something. “If he didn’t take the card with the address, why do you think he’s going to her house?”
“He didn’t ‘not’ take the card. His mother took it out of his pocket without his knowledge. When he left, he thought he had it. She’s his important thing to do this morning.”
“Even so, there’s no way he’d remember the address.”
Ray paused, then completed the equation. “I think he’s been there. He wrote the address down as a backup.”
Margie considered the answer. Decided Grandisha was correct. Asked a new question. “How did you make the connection between ‘Lawyer’s bitch’ and the attorney you called?”
“The background we got this morning on Morales. His paternity case. Regis Cahan was listed as his attorney. No other legal types mentioned for Sparne or Morales. It had to be him.”
A surprised look crossed Margie’s face. Her eyes opened wide. “Your mind works like a fucking computer.”
“I hope I’m wrong, but I don’t think so.”
Ray began circling attractive residential streets. The siren and lights were still blazing. People working in yards stopped what they were doing and gaped at the clamoring car. Grandisha and Margie both strained their eyes reading addresses. They finally found the correct street name and were nearing the right set of numbers.
Margie pointed through the windshield, excitement shading her voice, “There it is.”
A quaint two story house with an attached garage loomed in their vision, like a gothic castle. Ray jerked his vehicle onto the driveway and skidded to a stop. He and Margie jumped out of the car and sprinted to the front door, amid lawn mowers competing with the squelching siren for Saturday morning dominance.
The residence was too quiet. Something bad was happening. Ray didn’t waste time trying the door or knocking. He drew his gun and shot the lock. He slammed his shoulder into the hardwood, snapping the inside chains previously hooked to protect the residents. They rushed in, paused at a battered bathroom door, then ran to the source of screams and curses.
As they entered the front room, a stocky Hispanic kid and a rangy white kid glared in their direction, shocked at being interrupted. Morales was standing and had a wrestler’s type hold on a brutalized woman. She was nude from the waist up, her arms pinned behind her. A nasty gash adorned one of her breasts. Sparne was kneeling in front of the brutalized woman, his face pocked with red dots, attempting to remove her jeans from around her feet. Blood had drained down her stomach, covering all remaining clothes. In a heartbreaking moment of pathos, the woman smiled through caked lips at her rescuers.
Both Grandisha and Grenk entered the front room with guns drawn. The weapons were leveled at the human montage. Both hesitated, anxious to blow away the rapists, but not willing to risk hitting the brutalized woman.
Sparne, still kneeling, finished removing the jeans. He reached for a knife lying between his leg and the woman’s foot, then stood, half hidden behind Gina and Morales. He extended his arm around her torso and cupped the injured breast. His knife pressed against her side. Gina grimaced at the pain caused by Sparne’s hand, as it intruded on the wound. She endured, understanding that this would all be over in a very short time, as long as she didn’t panic.
The Kid, regaining some bravado, rotated the red splotched blade and said, “Put the guns down or I kill the bitch.” He squeezed the injured breast for effect. Gina couldn’t help herself, a loud curse escaped her lips. Sparne continued, “Be smart. You’re fucking helpless right now.”
Grandisha lowered his weapon. Margie followed suit. The sound of additional squad sirens hovered in the background. The other outside noises had abated, quieted by the siege of the Drozler domicile. Ray tunneled his vision to the Kid with the knife. “Tell your friend to let go of her. Then we’ll talk.”
Sparne said, “Sure. No problem.” He released Gina’s violated breast. Switched the knife to his free hand, sunk the open hand into Gina’s hair and jerked her head back.
Without looking at Morales, he said, “Let her go.” Ricardo released his grip. Gina’s arms returned to their natural position, parallel to the rest of her body. By now her limbs were numb and hung lifeless at her side. The tingle of the rush of fluid through her veins caused her lips to smack together, like a quickly closed book. She was at an awkward angle, forced to stare up at the ceiling, but she managed to widen her stance, unnoticed by all except the Lieutenant.
Morales maintained his position behind Gina. Sparne had brought the knife back up to her side, point pressing against the skin. He returned Grandisha’s stare. “This is as good as it gets until we work this thing out. If you make any kind of move, she’s dead.”
“Just don’t hurt her anymore,” Ray paused, allowed the concept to hang in the air, then continued. “Okay. Let’s talk. How are we gonna work this out?”
Sparne sported a look of content on his blood stained face. It was time for him to instruct the idiot cop on the facts of life. “Do you know who we are?”
Ray shook his head, said, “No. I’m sorry, we don’t. Tell us.”
“I’m Richard Sparne. This is Ricardo Morales. You mean to tell me your bosses haven’t mentioned our names?”
Grandisha continued the charade. It was buying time. “They may have, but I don’t recall.”
The Kid swaggered his explanation. “We work directly, and I mean very directly, with Albert Moffit.”
He waited for acknowledgement. A smug crease cracked his lips. No reaction came from the police officers. He continued, “You’re acting like you don’t know who Albert Moffit is.”
Grandisha stayed with the stupid card. “I’m sorry, why don’t you tell us about Albert Moffit.”
“He runs everything. He owns the police. He owns you. We’re his right hand men... If you want to keep your jobs, put the guns down. We’ll leave. You can get this stupid bitch a couple bandages, and everybody goes home happy.”
Sparne jerked Gina’s head sharply. “I may even let this bitch work for us. I haven’t fucked her yet. Don’t you think she’s a nice piece of ass?”
Ray wanted to keep the Kid talking until he had a chance to free Gina. “You said you worked directly for Mr. Moffit. What do you do for him?”
“You have heard of him. Good. I’ll tell him you showed the proper respect. It might help you down the road.”
“What do you do for him?” Grandisha repeated.
The Kid puffed up, still swaggering, “I’m going to be in charge of all the whores. Every bitch selling her ass will have to clear it with me.”
Morales peeked around Gina’s angled head, and said, “Me, too.”
Sparne nodded, “Yeah, Ricardo, too. Plus, if there’s a problem, we fix it.”
“Like the apartment and the bar?” The Lieutenant asked, building a case, while waiting for his opening.
Sparne bit. “Yeah, that’s right. The guy in the apartment was running some bitches, wasn’t kicking the money up to Mr. Moffit. Wasn’t showing him the proper respect.”
The screech of additional sirens echoed through the open front door. A few seconds later, uniformed officers, guns drawn, stormed into the front room. The Kid tensed. Tightened his grip on Gina’s hair. The knife point broke the skin, and additional small droplets exited her battered body. Her eyes, sunk as low as possible in their sockets, pleaded with Ray to ease the strain.
Grandisha spoke to the new arrivals. “This is Richard Sparne and Ricardo Morales. They work for Albert Moffit.” He stressed the name, hoping to continue the facade. “We’re going to work this out. All of you wait outside. And turn off all the goddamn sirens. This is nothing.”
The additional officers recognized the lethal situation. They backed out, mutely, quieted the shrieking vehicles, then called for more backup and ambulances. One remained in the house, hidden near the fractured bathroom entry.
Sparne eased his vice like hold of Gina’s hair. Her head lowered a few notches, like a rusty slinky unfolding. The blade tip dropped away, to Sparne’s side. Gina flashed a “Bless you” blink, then sucked in a deep drink of oxygen.
The feeling had returned to her arms. Ray noticed her hands opening and closing, mockly squeezing an imaginary ball. She’s gonna do something, Grandisha thought. Please, not yet, he tried to wordlessly convey. Let me keep them talking; I’ll get you away from them, without further damage.
Margie hadn’t spoken since leaving the vehicle. She knew the two scumbags facing her had killed her husband. It took every ounce of restraint she possessed not to simply raise her gun and blow them away. Grandisha’s voice brought her back from vengeance.
“What about the bar?” Ray asked.
Sparne said, “Whadda you mean?” The Police interruption had caused him to lose track of the conversation. He forgot he was bragging.
The Lieutenant prodded his memory. “Zola’s. The bar from last week. People were shotgunned.”
The Kid derisively snorted. “Same thing. Zola ran gambling shit for Mr. Moffit. Was making a ton of money. Decided she didn’t have to kick the money up.” He paused and sneered. “Big Mistake.”
Ray decided to continue milking the swagger. The Kid’s boasting was calming the standoff. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were so important. Who else is in your crew? I’d better get the word out to leave them alone.”
Sparne proudly ticked off four names. Morales snuck in, “I’m second in command.”
The Kid said, “That’s right.” And relaxed a little more. Gina’s head was almost to its natural position. The cop by the bathroom copied everything on his small pad.
The Lieutenant mentally thanked the Kid for the confession. Now, it was time to get the woman away from the two lunatics. “Look, I think we can work this out, but I need to clear it with Mr. Moffit. Why don’t you give me his address and phone number. One word from him and we can all go home. I’ll personally take care of everything.”
The Kid puffed up again, like a striking cobra. A smirk crossed his face and he jubilantly nodded his head a few times. He gave the address, conveniently omitted the phone number, smugly nodded his head a second time, and yanked Gina’s hair again. Her head snapped back.
Sparne tilted his face to her cheek. “You see bitch. You’re mine. I’ll get you later. You’re gonna spend a couple days crawling around my apartment on your hands and knees, before I put your ass on the street.”
The Kid released her hair and removed the knife from her side. He switched it to his other hand and rested it on her shoulder. blade pointed up. He reached around her and squeezed the injured breast, then looked at Grandisha. “Look at these tits. If you want, I can make her fuck you right here.”
Gina raised her free arm and buried an elbow in Sparne’s stomach. In a great whooshing sound the wind escaped from his body. A stunned glare frosted his eyes and, arms paralyzed, he began to tilt forward. Gina catapulted herself from the two teens. Ended up on the far side of the cushionless couch.
Ray and Margie rushed the two hoods, Ray yelling, “Get in here,” as he was raising his weapon. In a second they were on them. Guns touching their foreheads. Sparne had dropped the knife after the elbow, and the Lieutenant kicked it out of reach. Seconds later, a host of uniformed officers converged. Morales and Sparne were flattened and handcuffed.
Grandisha and Grenk hurried to Gina’s side. She was standing, Rambo-like, enjoying the arrest. A proud, satisfied glow framed her blood streaked face. In the hustle of activity, everyone had forgotten about her nudity, Gina included. As the two detectives reached her, she uttered, “Got the fuckers.”
Margie finally realized Gina was clad only in panties. She removed her dark blue, tweed sports coat, draped it over Gina’s frame and buttoned it sufficiently enough to provide a modest covering. She spoke for the first time since entering the house. “You are some kind of lady!”
Gina looked at her and said, “Nothing to it.”
As the E.M.T.’s were entering the front room, the last speck of adrenalin evaporated from Gina’s body and she collapsed. Grandisha was close enough to catch her and cradled her in both arms. He held her until the technicians rolled in a stretcher and sped off to the hospital.
Sparne and Morales had become very docile. They were spread face down on the front room floor. Heavily guarded, for their own protection, mostly. Grandisha had taken charge of everything, as soon as Gina was wheeled out. He divided the troops. Half were to stay in the Drozler home, protecting it and the evidence. They also had to track down Gina’s family, explain the scenario, and assure them everything was okay. The other half were going with Ray to Moffit’s house, then to round up the other minor members of the gang.
New officers arrived. Ray chose four of them to transport the thugs to the Police Station in separate cars. As the two were being yanked up from the floor, the Kid spied Ray and continued his swagger. “You’re making a big mistake. We’ll be out in an hour. I’m gonna want a personal apology from you. If I don’t get it, you might as well turn in your badge.”
Grandisha jerked his wrist to the men on each side of the killers. “Get them out of here,” he said. The Lieutenant got Moffit’s address, looked around the full house for Margie, and said, “Let’s go.”