Earthquake in San Francisco
Chapter 10
1
Chief Ironside looked out the front window of his van. Mark Sanger was driving the speed limit. There wasn't any reason to hurry. The money would still be there when they arrived. Frank Hunt wouldn't try to pick it up, that Ironside was sure of. The chief was having him followed. He had instructed the officers to make sure Hunt knew they were there. His intention was to force Hunt to make a move. The man was a hot head. Ironside knew that. All he'd have to do would be to apply enough pressure and the man would break. The detective had seen his kind dozens of times over the course of his career.
The chief picked up the vehicle's police radio handset and barked in to it. "This is Ironside. Put me through to the officers following Frank Hunt."
His request was put through immediately, and the officer answered quickly. "Hi Chief. We allowed Hunt to think he slipped our tail, just as you ordered. We have three unmarked police cars following him," Officer Duffy told him.
"Good job, Duffy. Where is he?"
"Following you, just as you predicted. He's keeping his distance. I don't understand how he can follow you. He's staying so far behind you, he can't possibly see your vehicle."
"Mark found a tracer on the van this morning. He knows exactly where we are, and I have no doubt he knows exactly where we are headed," Ironside said.
"Okay, Chief. We'll stay on him."
"See that you do," Ironside responded.
"Mark, the amusement park is up ahead. Pull in and turned to the left. The merry-go-round is at the far end of the park."
"You got it, Chief," Sanger said as he pulled up to the entrance.
The clerk at the gate looked into the van. "How many in the car? Tickets are $10.00 for kids under 16 and $20.00 for everyone over 16."
Ironside pulled his detective badge out of his suit coat pocket and handed it to Mark, who in turn showed it to the clerk. "My name is Ironside. I am with the San Francisco Police Department on police business. Open the gate."
"I can't do that, Chief. I was told I had to collect from everyone, no exceptions."
The chief was not about to pay to get into an amusement park that held no interest for him other than the money he was there to pick up. "Carl!"
Lieutenant Reese got out of the van on the passenger side, walked around the van, and handed the clerk a search warrant. "This says we can come in and we're not buying tickets."
The clerk looked over the search warrant, nodded, and opened the gate for the officers. Reese got back into the van, and Mark immediately turned left as Ironside had instructed. He headed for the merry-go-round. When they arrived, the ride was operating with every one of the rides occupied by children.
"I'll tell them to stop the ride," Lieutenant Reese said as he opened the van.
"Hey buddy!" shouted a man wearing a badge which indicated he was an employee of the park. "You can't drive that damn thing in this park! Turn it around and get the hell out of here!"
The chief shook his head. "He's operating a merry-go-round full of kids and uses that language. Carl, take care of this."
Reese hopped out of the van and walked over to the employee. After a two-minute heated argument, he walked back to the van, opened it and got in. "He said he isn't stopping the ride. The kid's parents paid for the ride and he is finishing it. He'll hold off allowing anyone else on until we are finished."
"All right, Carl. We can wait a few minutes. Clear the area. We don't need any of these people getting in the way." Turning to Eve, Ironside told her, "Eve, you help Carl find the money. Somehow Hunt managed to hide it under one of the horses."
Eve and Carl got out of the vehicle and headed over to the merry-go-round. As soon as it stopped, they waited for the kids to depart the horses. They began clearing the area of people. Once they had them at a safe distance, they started checking each of the horses. After a 10 minute search, both of them came up empty handed.
Eve walked back to the boss. "Nothing, Chief."
"It has to be there, Eve, keep looking," Ironside barked.
The policewoman went back to the horses on the merry-go-round when she noticed something strange about one of them. Eve walked over to it. The base of the horse had a square etched into it. No, etched wasn't the right word. It looked like someone could have cut the square into it and then fixed it. "Carl! Come here!"
Reese poked his head out from behind one of the horses. "What is it?"
"I think I may have found something," she called out. "At the least, I think we should check it out.
Carl stopped what he was doing and headed in Eve's direction. When he arrived, he asked, "Okay, what did you find?"
"Look at the square on the base of the horse."
Carl saw immediately what had Eve's interest. He looked at the two horse's next to it. Neither had the square on it. He began checking other horses on the merry-go-round. It appeared to be the only one with the strange square on the base.
"What do you think? Could someone have used a tool to remove a section of the horse in order to hide something inside?" Eve asked.
"You mean like money?" Carl said
"That's exactly what I mean," she responded.
"Let's find out." They walked back to where the chief was waiting and told him what Eve had found. "We're going to need a saw, Chief. It looks like a section may have been removed and that cemented back in."
"Find one," Ironside ordered.
Reese went to the head of the amusement park who cooperated immediately. He ordered an employee to get a saw for the police officers. Within 15 minutes, he returned with an electric saw. He showed Reese where to plug it in. Carl connected it to the electrical outlet and began sawing along the lines of the square on the horse. It did not take him long before it became obvious the squared section could be removed from the horse. He pulled it out and set it on the ground. There was a hollow section inside the base. Carl reached in and pulled out a bag. After checking inside, he looked up at Eve and grinned. "Jackpot."
After Carl placed the square block back in place, both officers headed back to the chief. When they arrive, Ironside barked, "Well?" Carl handed him the bag. Ironside looked inside and grinned. "Well, that ought to stimulate Mister Hunt into action. He'll be good and mad at me now."
"Chief, he threatened to kill you," Eve said. "I think he's plenty upset with you already."
"Well, he'll be madder yet. The madder he is, the better the chance he'll start making mistakes. When he does, we've got him. Let's get a team in here and see if we can pull any prints off the bottom of that horse."
Ironside wheeled back to his van. The park employee approached him. "Hey, can we resume running the merry-go-round? And, what are you going to do about the hole you cut in that horse?"
"The hole was already there. We just reopened it," Ironside growled. "And no, you can't resume the rides until we get a fingerprint team in here. Eve, go back to that horse and make sure no one touches it."
Eve nodded and left Ironside. The chief wheeled his chair backwards onto the lift. Once in the vehicle, he grabbed the handset and said, "This is Ironside. Duffy, what's our friend doing?"
Duffy laughed. "He's in the park, Chief. He followed you, just as you said he would. I have no doubt he knows you have the money."
"Good. That'll light a fire under him for sure."
In the distance, Frank Hunt's anger was growing by the minute. The damn cripple had just taken his money. That would've gotten him far away from San Francisco and Ironside. Now, what was he going to do? He should've taken the chance and picked the money up as soon as he got out of prison. After all, he'd easily slipped away from the dumb cops who were assigned to follow him. Damn Ironside! He'd have to live on the crumbs the stupid job he'd been given by the parole officer. It didn't pay squat! Nothing to what he was use to. He needed to find new partners and go back to robbing banks. Once he had made enough money, he was out of San Francisco. First, he was going to make Ironside pay for what he had done to him.
2
Rolland Hubbard watched the guard out of the corner of his eye. As soon as he brought his dinner into his cell, he would make his move. Fortunately, his cell was at the far end of the block around the corner. It was the only one down that hall. The rest of the hall had a recreation room for the inmates who behaved themselves enough to have those privileges. Rolland, of course, was not one of them. He was considered a threat to other prisoners. In actuality, he was only a threat to those who threatened him, or didn't give him what he wanted. If he was supposed to spend the rest of his life in this hole, he was going to have what he wanted. Rolland had spent years cultivating intimidation. The other prisoners were scared of him. None of them gave him any trouble. If they had something he wanted, he'd make them give it to him.
He was sick of this stinking hole. He wanted out. Rolland came to the conclusion that he wasn't spending the rest of his life in a cell. Since he couldn't get out by parole, and was serving consecutive life sentences, the only way out was to break out. He was about to become a free man. When he got outside the walls of the prison, he'd find Frank Hunt. The two of them would become partners. He'd given Frank that talk about staying straight and avoiding coming back to the prison, but that was just talk. He knew fully well if he got out on parole, he would be finding every way he could to make money, and none of it would be legal. Making money the legal way was far too hard. It was much easier to make it, or should he say take it the illegal way? If society wanted him to work for a living, they should have structured it so that he could make lots of money with little effort.
Still, there was risk to stealing your living. One had to deal with men like Ironside. Actually, there were no men like Ironside. Very few, if any had the deductive ability of that cripple cop. How could a cripple in a wheelchair be so dangerous? Yet, Rolland wasn't kidding himself. He would never deal with another cop as cunning and dangerous as Robert Ironside. It was too bad the woman that shot him hadn't put the bullet in his head instead of his back. All she did was serve to make the man more dangerous than he already was. She wounded him, and everyone knew how a wounded animal acted. Ironside was cantankerous, even more so than he had been before he was shot. He took it out on guys like him and Frank.
Frank made up his mind to kill Ironside. Maybe, just maybe he was right. If they robbed a bank and then fled San Francisco, Ironside would never stop until he found them. He wanted to avenge the death of that bank employee Frank killed. Why did the damn detective even care? Zack Hill was a casualty of war, and war was exactly what it was. It was no different than a country who wanted something and went to war with another country to get it. What did they do to all the soldiers who fought and killed their enemy? Nothing! If they lived through the conflict, they went on with their lives. How was that any different than the kid that was killed in the bank. He was killed in a war. The other people survived. They were going on with their lives. Why should he, a soldier of life, be penalized for killing in a war when governments did it all the time. People had such screwed up values!
Rolland fingered the boxcutter knife he was able to obtain from one of the other inmates. Naturally, he was forced to use intimidation in order to get it. The inmate was quickly resourceful in finding a way to get weapons. Rolland didn't care where he got them, only that he did. He'd never had to figure out where to get hold of one. There was always someone to do that for you when you held the influence he did in the prison.
Taking a closer look at the boxcutter, Rolland was looking forward to using it on the guard. That particular guard was always trying to bully him. He'd received several beatings from him for no reason other than Rolland had to put other inmates in there place to keep them in order. Aaron Williams was about to find out that he should never have messed with him. Maybe he'd cut his throat on the way out. Yes, that is what he would do. He had everything planned out. The man at the gate was new. He wouldn't know Rolland from Adam, as the expression went. With Williams uniform and the fake identification he'd been provided, he was going to walk right out the front door of the prison.
Aaron Williams turned the corner and came back into view. Rolland had been so lost in thought he hadn't even notice the man had left. Now, he was back with Rolland's dinner. He'd no intention of eating the slop. Prison food was worse than what they served in a hospital. Besides, as soon as he got on the outside, he would visit a friend who had promised to help him with a disguise. Rolland was going to walk right into a steak house somewhere and have the biggest and juiciest steak he could order. He'd do it right under the noses of the police department, not to mention Ironside. Then he would contact Frank and help him plan the murder of the cripple, but first he'd go to the amusement park and pick up the money for Frank. Ironside would be having him watched, so Frank couldn't do it himself. They'd shake Frank's tail and go somewhere the police couldn't find them. There they'd come up with a plan to take revenge on the crippled detective.
Williams approached his cell. Placing the tray in one hand, he unlocked the cell with the other hand. "Stand back, Hubbard."
Rolland took a couple steps back, and Williams set the tray down. "If you could be civilized and behave yourself, you could eat in the cafeteria with the rest of the men."
"Shut up and get out, Williams. Your ugly face makes me sick, and I'd like to be able to eat my dinner without puking."
"Now see, that's what I'm talking about. It's been a while since your last lesson." He pulled the billy club from his belt. "Maybe it's time for another lesson."
On cue, yelling began in the cross hall where most of the cells were located. Rolland had arranged for a couple men to start a disturbance. Williams turn quickly toward the front of the cell. It was the break Rolland had been expecting. He moved swiftly toward Williams, and with the box cutter knife, he slit his throat. He shoved his head downward to try to prevent any blood from spilling on his uniform. He was not entirely successful. He waited until he bled out and set him down on the floor face down. Rolland had to hurry. There was not much time. Serving him was Williams last job for the day. His shift had ended and he should be leaving. Hubbard removed his prison jumpsuit as fast as he could, undressed Williams, and removed his shoes. He put his uniform on and then struggled with his shoes. "You might know the jerk has small feet," he grumbled. He wouldn't be able to stand the shoes very long. Then again, he only had to get on the outside and Frank would help him get clothes, hopefully some that fit.
He inspected the uniform. Naturally there was blood on the collar. He had to figure a way to hide it. If the guard at the front gate saw it, he'd never get out of the prison. Damn it, why didn't he just shove the box cutter into the man's back. Now, he had a real problem.
He took Williams identification badge he wore every day. That was another problem. He didn't look anything like Williams. Rolland left the cell and headed toward the cross hall. The men in the cells he passed gave him a nod. He knew it was more out of fear of him than it was out of respect. He didn't care either way. All he could think about was getting the hell out the prison before William was discovered, which would be in about an hour when another guard returned to pick up the food tray.
As he approach the gate, he kept his face turned away. This was the most dangerous part of his plan. The guard would surely know he wasn't Williams if he was paying attention. Fortunately, he had his face in a newspaper. Rolland pulled the key from its retractable chain and unlocked the door. As soon as he was out of the cell block, he noticed the guard had on his jacket. The shift was about to change, and he was probably about to leave as well. Rolland pulled out the club and hit the guard in the back of the head. He never even looked up from his paper. Another lucky break.
Rolland removed his jacket and put it on. He zipped the zipper all the way up to his neck and raised the collar. He looked down and could not see any blood visible. It was time to get out. Hubbard headed for the front entrance. Keeping his head down, he passed by guards who were coming in to start their shift. As he arrived at the front gate, his nerves began to settle. He was almost there. Waving at the guard, he waited until he unlocked the main gate, and then walked right out of the prison. Rolland walked at a normal pace so he wouldn't make the guard suspicious.
He kept going until he was out of sight. Then he began running. He had to hot-wire a car and get as far away from the prison as he could. He knew the area well and knew just what roads to take. He was free at last. If he'd realized it would be that easy, he would've left that god forsaken joint a long time ago.
3
Ed Brown paced back and forth at the airport. His flight had been delayed. At this point, he'd no idea when he was going to get out of New York. He couldn't remember the last time a vacation had been such a disaster. He should've known better. Vivian had displayed her dislike for cops when she had been in San Francisco. Why didn't he realize that her opinion wouldn't have change? Ed couldn't wait to get back home. He didn't like being away knowing the city had been hit by earthquakes. The chief would need him. Hopefully, the worst was behind them. So far as he could tell, there hadn't been that much damage. Nevertheless, he'd have to get home to find out. How was he supposed to do that while stranded at the airport. He looked up at the scheduled flights. Everything seemed to be on time except his flight. Then he noticed only flights going into San Francisco were delayed or cancelled. How long was he going to have to sit in the airport? After he left Vivian's penthouse apartment, he had walked around New York City for over three hours. Once he had cooled down, he decided to go back to the apartment and try and make things right with Vivian. He couldn't leave without trying to at least part friends. It was a relationship which was doomed from the beginning. Ed could see that now. Maybe he actually knew it, but hadn't wanted to face it. Coming to New York had been a mistake. He knew how she felt about the police and Chief Ironside. Why would he think she'd changed her mind?
When he arrived at the building, he wasn't even allowed to go back up to Vivian's apartment. Vivian had packed his suitcase and left it at the main desk on the first floor. She wouldn't even allow him to say goodbye. He tried calling her, but she refused to answer the phone. Ed couldn't help but feel responsible for the entire situation. When she asked him to come to New York, he should've refused. He couldn't see past his feelings for her. Now, he wished she'd never called him.
His city was suffering earthquakes and experts were on the news claiming they weren't over. The pressure in the plates indicated they were still moving and a large earthquake was only a matter of time. Ed needed to get home. He was worried about the chief, Mark and Eve. He sat down in a chair. He couldn't go to the counter and ask about flights. He had only done that a few minutes ago. Nothing would've change this quickly. If there were any flights going into San Francisco, they would've been posted. Since they weren't, all he could do was to sit there and wait.
"Ed."
Brown turned around to see Vivian standing there. "How did you get past security?"
"I had to purchase a plane ticket," she said with a smile.
Brown noted her eyes were red. She'd been crying. Ed felt responsible for the tears. He was the reason for them. "Why would you do that?" Dare he hope she had a change of heart? Did the possibility of losing him cause her to decide to move to San Francisco? No, he knew better than that. He had to stop it. He was setting himself up for another disappointment.
"I couldn't leave things this way," Vivian said.
"So why did you come?"
"I can't lose you, Ed Brown. Please don't go. Stay here with me. Take the job with the New York City Police Department. I promise I won't try to get you to quit. Just please don't go." Tears flowed down her cheeks.
Ed couldn't stand to see her hurting. He never wanted to be the source of any woman's pain. Yet, he'd been the source of hers. "Viv . . ."
She hurried toward him and put her finger across his lips. "No, don't talk. Let me." She drew her hand away from him and looked directly into his eyes. "I love you, Ed. I have loved you from the moment I met you. I haven't been fair with you. I manipulated you and I haven't considered what makes you happy. You see, I thought I could make you happy. I thought if you had me, you wouldn't need police work. You're right, I intended to get you to quit your job as soon as I could. I realize now I was wrong to do that. And I was wrong to criticize Chief Ironside. He's your friend. You've known him a lot longer than you have known me. I guess I just don't understand him. I'm sorry for what I said about him."
Vivian put her arms around Ed. "Please don't go, Ed. Stay. We can work this out. You can have your own crime unit with the NYPD. I won't interfere with it. I promise. Just don't leave me. I can't get you off my mind."
Ed said nothing for a moment. He didn't want to move to New York. He loved San Francisco. If he made the move, he would only come to resent Vivian for taking him away from the city he loved, and the job he had with Chief Ironside. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, but what he wanted in life was important to. Despite that she was saying she wouldn't interfere with his career as a police detective, she would. He knew that as sure as the sun rises in the east. "Viv, I love you, but I can't stay in New York. I hate the winters and I just am not fond of New York. I don't want to give up my job with Chief Ironside. He is the most brilliant man I have ever worked for. I love San Francisco. It's where I belong. If you want to be together, you can move to California, but I'm afraid that is the only way we can . . ."
"I can't move there, Ed. I'm a theater actress. My career is here in New York."
"And my career is in San Francisco," he said gently.
Tears were streaming down her face. Ed couldn't help himself. He pulled her even tighter to him as she sobbed on his shoulder. After a few minutes, he let her go. "I will always treasure what we had, Viv, but we need to face it now. This wasn't meant to be. Neither of us wants to give up what we have. That could only mean the love between us isn't strong enough to keep us together."
She looked away from him. "How can I live without you?"
"Day by day, Viv. The hurt will subside. You'll meet someone else, and then I will just be a memory."
"You're a hard act to follow, Ed Brown."
He smiled. "Someone will not only live up to me in your eyes, but surpass me." He held her tightly and kissed her with passion. When he broke the kiss, he said, "Goodbye, Viv."
"Goodbye, Ed." She turned and walked away from him without looking back.
4
Damn Ironside! The cripple cop stole his money. Frank Hunt paced back and forth in his crappy apartment. His anger was growing by the minute. He had that money stashed away for 15 years. Frank would've picked it up as soon as the heat died down. He expected Ironside to show an interest in him for a while. He thought it would only last a short time and the the crippled cop would go back to putting people behind bars. Now, Frank was broke. He couldn't rob a bank right now. He was being too closely watched by the police; no doubt ordered by Ironside. That damn cop had to be stopped, and Frank was just the man who could do it. He'd lure him away from police headquarters and put a bullet in his head. He was done interfering with his life. Frank had to plan it carefully. He would have to have a solid alibi because he was the first one they'd suspect since he threatened him at the parole hearing.
The problem as Frank saw it was he wouldn't be able to do it himself. He'd have to hire someone if he was to keep from being a suspect. That presented a problem. The only money he had was now in the possession of the police. How was he going to hire someone to kill Ironside when he hadn't any money to pay them? Maybe going back to prison was worth it if Ironside was dead. What kind of a life did he have on the outside anyway. Frank had a job that paid next to nothing. He lived in a dump and had to report to a parole officer once a week. What kind of life was that?
In prison, he was king. Everyone was scared of Rolland Hubbard. Since they were friends, no one dared mess with him. Anything he wanted, Rolland made sure he had it. He didn't have to go without cigarettes, nor did he have to buy them. Rolland ordered someone to give them to him and they did it without question. Rolland would force other inmates to do his work. He got all the books he wanted to read, again courtesy of the other prisoners. Hell, his cell in the prison was better than the hell-hole he was living in now. He should've let Ironside derail his parole.
There was a quiet knock on the window. At first Frank thought it was a bird banging his beak on the glass, but then it started coming in rhythm. Frank recognized that rhythm. It was the same one he and Rolland used to signal each other in prison. It couldn't be, could it? Hunt hurried over to the window expecting to scare away a bird. He missed his friend. It had to be his imagination that the rhythm was the same. Rolland Hubbard would never get out of prison. Frank pushed the curtain back. There on the other side of the window, his friend stood there grinning.
Hunt struggled with the window, but soon got it open. With some difficulty, Rolland crawled inside. "Why do they make these windows so damn small?"
"You're supposed to use the door," Frank laughed.
"I couldn't. The cops are watching the door. I had a hard enough time just trying to stay out of their sight to get to the window."
Frank grinned. "Well, I am glad you're here." They shook hands and then embraced in a brief hug.
"You really missed me, huh?" Rolland smiled.
"You're the best friend I've ever had. But, I know you shouldn't be here. So, do you mind telling me how you got out of the joint?"
"I killed a guard and took his clothes. Walked right out the front gate when his shift was up. If I'd known it was that easy, I would've left there a long time ago instead of spending years in that hole."
"What guard?"
"What?"
"What guard did you kill?" Frank asked.
"Aaron Williams. It felt damn good too. I have taken quite a few beatings at his hand. Well, he won't beat on me anymore."
"Or anyone else apparently," Frank said. They looked at each other and laughed.
"So, tell me, how's it been on the outside?" Rolland asked, turning the conversation to a more serious tone.
Frank waved his hand around the room. "Take a look around. This place is a dump. The wages I will earn at the job they got me are ridiculous. I can't live this way, Rolland."
"What about your money?"
Hunt's face turned to pure hatred. "Ironside, that's what happened to it. I don't know how he found out where it was, but I had to sit by and watch him and his detectives pick it up."
"The money? You mean Ironside has it?"
"Yeah, the police have my money. That damn crippled cop! He's been a thorn in my side for years. I've had it with him! Look, Rolland, I know you didn't want me to . . . "
Hubbard interrupted him. "Say no more. I've changed my mind. I agree with you. Ironside must be stopped or you'll never get any peace."
"I want to kill the son-of-a-bitch."
"And you will, but with my help. If they catch me, I simply go back. You have a chance to stay on the outside. So, you will let me kill him, is that clear?"
Frank was touched by his friend's gesture. Rolland was truly the best friend he'd ever had. Actually, he was just about the only friend he'd ever had. "Okay, as long as Ironside is dead, that is all that matters to me."
"He'll be dead. I promise you that."
"So, how will you do it?" Hunt asked him.
"First, I need to know something. Did you kill him?"
Confused, Frank asked, "Kill who?"
"The kid, Zack Hill."
Hunt grinned. "You bet I did. The little weasel got cold feet. He was going to talk to Ironside."
"You should've let him. He ended up putting you behind bars anyway," Rolland said.
"No one gets away with ratting me out, Rolland. I killed the little bastard and those two cops protecting him."
"Can Ironside trace it back to you?"
"No, no way," Frank said, shaking his head.
"Really, are you that sure? Ironside found the money. How did he do that? Have you considered that he's unearthed something that ties you to the murder since he found that money?"
"If he could tie me to the murder, he would've arrested me by now."
Rolland nodded. "Yeah, I guess he would've. Okay, here's what we're going to do. We're going to lure him somewhere. You'll be no where near him. In fact, you'll be somewhere public; somewhere a lot of people will see you so that you'll have an iron-clad alibi. I'll go in your place and meet Ironside. I'll kill him for you. You'll be home free. It is only a matter of time before they catch up with me anyway. I wanted to see you again. Prison is hell since you left."
Frank walked over to Rolland and put his hand on his shoulder. "A man couldn't ask for a better friend. I don't like leaving you holding the bag if this goes wrong."
"It won't go wrong. Ironside is as good as dead."
Frank worried about the plan. "Ironside never goes anywhere without that aid of his, or his cops. How are you going to get past them?"
"He'll be told no one is to come with him. If I see a cop anywhere, the deal will be off. He's to tell no one."
Frank shook his head. "That won't work. He's a cripple. The aid has to drive him around."
"Not anymore. I hear that van of his is specially equipped. Ironside can drive it himself."
A grin crossed Hunt's face. "Perfect. Let's sit down and finalize the details.