THE GIRL NEXT DOOR
Chapter Two: Vanishing Acts
Forty-five minutes later, Jesse and Ellie were pulling up outside BBQ Bob's. Upon realizing that Hugo hadn't mentioned a time or a place for the meeting, she had called him back using the number on the caller ID and, at Jesse's suggestion, set up the meeting at a place where she would be comfortable. As they approached the building, a man sprinted down the sidewalk toward them.
"Ellie!" he called urgently.
"Hugo!" she shouted and let him sweep her off her feet in a bear hug.
Hugo swung her around like a rag doll several times and then set her back on her feet. She must have been a little dizzy, because she stumbled back against Jesse, who put his arm around her waist to steady her. Eyeing the small, blonde man warily, Hugo asked, "Who are you?"
Ellie stood up straight and said, "Hugo Bordonov, meet Dr. Jesse Travis, my new boyfriend. Jesse, this is the childhood friend I was telling you about."
Jesse noticed the anger and hurt that crossed Hugo's face and wished the man didn't live up to his name so well. He was indeed huge, at least six foot four, swarthy with a permanent five o'clock shadow, and built like he could uproot trees with his bare hands. Dumbfounded, he looked at Ellie as the word boyfriend finally sunk in, and when he saw the pleading in her eyes, he grinned back at the human mountain before him and offered his hand.
Hugo's grip was firm, almost painful, not intended to injure this time, but it definitely sent a message. Determined not to be bullied, Jesse narrowed his eyes and said, "Ellie says she thinks you are having some problems. If you tell me what's up, I might be able to get someone to help you."
Hugo released his hand and looked around furtively. Jerking his head in the direction of the door, he said, "Let's go inside. It's not safe out on the street."
Jesse barely managed to refrain from checking to see that his hand was still there as Hugo released his grip to open the door and hold it for Ellie. As she walked past him, the big man turned and followed her in, letting it fall shut on Jesse. Inside the restaurant, Ellie headed for her usual table by the windows, but Hugo said, "No, in the back. It's safer." Jesse smiled and slid into the booth next to Ellie when she took the seat opposite Hugo.
"Hugo, will you tell me what's wrong, please?"
As if trying to decide what to do, Hugo just stared at Ellie for a moment. Shelley, one of the waitresses, came by to give them menus, but she got no response to her greeting. She gave Jesse a questioning look as she sensed the tense silence at the table, but taking the menus from her, he shook his head and warned her off.
"Hugo, please," Ellie pleaded.
The big man closed his eyes and sighed, and for just a moment, Jesse could see the real fear on his face. Then the mask slid back in place as he opened his eyes and said, "Ellie, I don't want to involve you."
"Then why did you call her?" Jesse asked.
"I . . . I don't know." Hugo lowered his eyes and began tracing patterns on the table top with his index finger. "I just needed . . . I needed to talk."
"Then talk to us," Ellie said.
Another thoughtful silence, and then Hugo shook his head. "I . . . I can't . . . I'm in trouble with some serious people. You could get hurt."
He stood to leave, and Ellie gave Jesse a 'do something' look. Jesse looked back at her as if to ask, 'What?' and she widened her eyes and jerked her head in Hugo's direction. Standing up to face the larger man, Jesse took his arm and said, "Look, we're already involved. If your . . . enemies are watching you, they saw that hug you gave Ellie, and they know she means something to you. If they start watching her, they will know I mean something to her. That means we're both in danger, too, so you might as well tell us what's up."
Hugo gave Jesse an angry frown, jerked free of his grasp, and started to stride away, but Jesse scurried to head him off, and halfway across the room he got in the larger man's face and hissed quietly, "I know you have no love for me, but if you wanted to protect Ellie, you never should have called her. Now, she is in danger, and the only way to keep her safe is to put these people in jail. I have a good friend who's a cop, talk to me, and I will get him to help you."
For a moment, Hugo stood huffing angrily at the smaller man, then a haunted look came into his eyes. He turned abruptly and went back to the booth, sliding in beside Ellie. Jesse followed him back to the table and slid across the other seat so that he was sitting by the wall, facing Ellie. For some reason, he reached out and took her hand, and to his relief, she smiled at him in gratitude. As Shelley walked by, Jesse waved her over, and after she filled their water glasses, Jesse and Ellie ordered. Shelley waited patiently for Hugo to tell her what he wanted, but he shook his head and said shamefacedly, "I . . . I can't."
"Hugo, you need to eat," Ellie told him.
"No, Ellie, really, I'm fine."
Suddenly, Jesse understood his embarrassed behaviour. If the man was on the run, he could be running out of money, too, and he was ashamed to admit it. The guy did look kind of ragged. He might not have eaten in a while.
"Consider it on the house," Jesse said congenially. "I'm part owner of the restaurant." His thanks were a grateful smile from Ellie and a laser-hot, angry glare from Hugo.
"I thought you were a doctor," the giant rumbled.
"I am," Jesse said, "but my friend the cop, his dad, and I bought this place as a sideline."
Hugo reluctantly nodded and ordered a huge amount of food. They sat silently sipping their water as they waited for their meals to arrive. When Jesse finally had his plate of ribs, Ellie had her sandwich, and Hugo had a family sized mixed platter and two appetizers before him, they began to talk.
"Hugo, tell us what's going on, please," Ellie said.
Hugo chewed and swallowed and chased his food with a gulp of soda. Then he began.
"I had some pretty big debts to pay, Ellie," he began. "These guys came into the office one day and offered a huge payoff to shepherd some . . . merchandise into the country for them. It was supposed to be so easy. One big payoff and my problems were solved."
"Wait, what kind of debts, what was the 'merchandise', and how were you supposed to get it into the country?" Jesse interrupted.
Hugo looked daggers at the young doctor and said, "Gambling, I didn't know at the time, and I work with Ellie's dad and mine in an import-export business."
"Gambling! Hugo how could you?" Ellie exclaimed.
Jesse squeezed her hand gently and said, "Ellie, don't. It can happen to anyone."
She nodded her understanding, looked at Hugo, and said, "I'm sorry, I'm just surprised that it has happened to him, again. Go on."
"Well, I got curious," Hugo said. "It was one big deal, one hundred shipping containers, the kind that you haul on the back of a tractor trailer, y'know, and when the first of them came in, I took a look inside. They were full of cash, U.S. dollars, small bills, ones, fives, tens, twenties, and fifties. The money was so new I could smell the ink, and since it was coming in from North Korea, by way of Singapore, I knew it had to be counterfeit. I 'lost' the containers . . . "
"Lost them?" Jesse asked. "How do you lose a hundred shipping containers?"
"Oh, I know where they are, but no one else can find them," Hugo explained. "You'd be surprised how much stuff comes through the docks on any given day. It's easy to misplace something. Just transpose a few numbers, and it vanishes into thin air."
"Ok, go on."
"Well, while I was sitting on the shipment, I did some math. By my estimation, that much funny money could do some damage to the economy. I decided to go to the cops, but first, I took enough off the top to pay off my markers."
"How much did you take?" Ellie asked.
"Five hundred grand," Hugo said flatly.
"Do you mean to tell me you were five hundred thousand dollars in debt to your bookie?"
"Well . . . "
"What?"
"I only owed him two hundred and fifty grand, but I figured there was so much there, and, well, Nicolayev is a crook anyway. I thought I could have some fun with the other two-fifty. Maybe I could win enough to set myself up in business somewhere under a new name after I testified against the North Koreans, but . . . " Hugo trailed off and began to pick at his meal.
"You lost it all, didn't you?" Ellie asked in a deadly tone.
Hugo nodded without looking up.
"Are you insane?" Ellie smacked him hard on the back of the head and he ducked. "You idiot! Do you realize that you have put both of our families in danger? What do you think your Asian friends are going to do when they don't get their containers? And your bookie, he wants his money, too. What if one of them had come looking for Mummy or Daddy or your parents while you were hiding! Oh, God!" Ellie looked horrified. "Our dads don't know about it, do they? They weren't in on it?"
"No, of course not," Hugo snapped. "They'd both kill me twice over if they knew what I'd done."
"And with good reason," Ellie snapped, "They've spent their lives building up that business, and they did it honestly. They don't deserve to have you come in and ruin it for them just because you're so damned fond of the ponies and the fights."
"I know, I know," Hugo said, "and I know now that I have a problem, and I know you have been telling me to get help for years. I promise I will, Ellie, as soon as I can get out of this mess."
"If you don't get yourself killed first," Ellie said quietly.
"Ellie, please . . ."
"Hold it," Jesse interrupted. "Take a break. Let's just box up our meals, go find Steve, and see if he can help, ok?"
"Steve?" Hugo echoed the name.
"My friend who's a cop. He also has a friend who's with the FBI. I am sure between the two of them they can help you, if you're serious about wanting help."
Hugo sighed and nodded. "I don't want to die, and I don't want to get anyone killed." He looked at Ellie. "I am sorry, you know."
She nodded tearfully and said. "And you're an idiot, but I love you like a brother. I've met Steve. He's a good guy. He'll help."
Following Jesse's lead, Hugo and Ellie stood up and headed toward the counter with their meals to have them boxed to take with them. They were waiting for Shelley to bring the containers back from the kitchen when six men dressed in black and wearing black balaclavas came bursting in and rent the air with a burst of automatic weapons fire. Before anyone could react, Jesse and Ellie were dragged out of the restaurant and the leader told Hugo in a nasally accented voice, "You have three days. Get our money or wifey and friend dies."
. . . . . . . . .
"Ok, I'm putting you in protective custody, Mr. Bordonov," Steve said as Hugo finished telling his story, "and I will send officers to look after your parents and Miss Fortescue's mother and father."
"Her father is at the London office."
"I see." Steve frowned. "Agent Wagner will be meeting us at the precinct after he confirms the existence of the money and sets up a surveillance team to be sure it doesn't get 'lost' again, and you will probably also have to speak with someone from the Secret Service as well. They usually investigate counterfeiting operations."
Hugo just nodded. Never in all his life had he dreamed that playing the ponies could get so many people he cared about into so much trouble. He felt especially bad about the doctor. The man didn't know him from Adam, and he was willing to help. He hoped Dr. Travis would make Ellie very happy some day.
"If you'll come with me, Mr. Bordonov, we'll get you someplace safe."
Steve stepped out of the restaurant and looked side to side, checking the street for threats. The coast seemed clear, so he turned and said over his shoulder, "Walk ahead of me, quickly, to the blue Crown Vic. I'll stay close behind and cover you, understand?"
Hugo nodded and moved past the cop and into the street. He was about ten yards from the car when a shot rang out. Hugo cried out as his leg crumpled beneath him. Cursing, Steve wrapped an arm around the larger man's chest and tried to drag him to the car as his eyes wildly searched the street for the shooter. A black and white that had been dispatched to the kidnapping was just leaving the scene, and it screeched to a halt beside Steve. The passenger door swung open and Steve shoved Hugo in yelling, "Get him to Community General now!"
As the cruiser roared off, lights flashing and sirens blaring, Steve dove for cover behind his vehicle.
. . . . . . . . .
"I am honest American businessman," Cheslav Nicolayev said, grinning smugly. "I know nothing of this hit you describe to me."
Steve grabbed him by the lapels and slammed him against the wall. "I have had a very bad day, Nicolayev, and I am not in the mood to play games. I don't want to arrest you. I'm just telling you to get off Hugo Bordonov's back. We need him to catch bigger fish."
Despite his protests, Nicolayev had to be the one who had ordered the hit on Hugo. The North Koreans needed him alive until they got their money back, and there was no one else who would want him dead.
"Ahhh, Bordonov, do you know he owed me two hundred fifty thousand dollars?" Cheslav said conversationally. "Now it is seven hundred fifty thousand. He came to me a few weeks ago with five hundred thousand. He could have paid his debt and still played, but he gambled first and lost it all. I have never seen a man with worse luck." He shook his head sadly. "You know, I think that boy is compulsive gambler. He needs help."
Steve smiled bitterly as he let go of the man's suit. "I am sure he appreciates your concern," he said. "But I don't care what he owes you. Bordonov has put my friends in danger, and until I get them back, I want you to leave him alone. If anything else happens to him, or if anything happens to my friends because of what you do to him, I'm coming for you, and when I am finished, you'll wish I had sent you to jail."
"You are delusional, Detective," the Russian mobster said, straightening his clothes. "I would never hurt Hugo. He is worth much more to me alive than he is dead. I was planning to let him work off his debt by contracting with his family's business to import certain goods from Mother Russia."
Steve narrowed his eyes. "And what were you planning to ship? Drugs, weapons, biological agents, or teenage girls to work as sex slaves in your brothel?"
"I have already told you, Detective, I am honest American businessman," Nicolayev said, smiling again. "I would never do such a terrible thing to nice Russian girl looking for better life here in America. Besides, in this great land of ours, even if I were criminal, Fifth Amendment protects me from having to tell you what I have done wrong."
"If you didn't try to kill him, then who did?"
"I do not know, but if I find out, I will be sure to tell you who did."
Clenching his fists to avoid pulverizing the man, Steve said through gritted teeth, "You be sure to do that."
. . . . . . . . .
Steve skulked into the doctors' lounge and fixed himself a cup of coffee. His expression was dark as a thundercloud, and Mark knew better than to speak before he was spoken to. Steve took a long gulp from his cup, sat at the table, and sighed.
"How's Bordonov?"
"Resting comfortably," Mark said. "The bullet shattered his fibula and tibia and tore up the muscles, but with some physical therapy he should recover."
Steve nodded. "Nicolayev didn't order the hit."
"What?" Mark asked in shock. "Then who did?"
"I don't know," Steve said, "but Nicolayev was going to use Hugo's markers to force him to smuggle something for him. Of course he wouldn't say what that was."
"Naturally." As the two men sat in silence, each lost in his own thoughts, Ron stalked into the lounge, looking every bit as furious as Steve had. Unwittingly mimicking his friend's actions, he fixed himself a cup of coffee, took a long drink, sat at the table facing Steve, and sighed.
"The money's gone," he said. "All one hundred containers."
