Chapter 3

Joe couldn´t even blink to register what woke him before the ether soaked cloth was pressed over his mouth and nose. He couldn´t help but draw a ragged breath and the inevitable grey mist swallowed him instantly.

Salvo Barberi stepped up to the bed. That had been easy. The guy hadn´t even heard them enter the room. Must have been mighty tired, the pretty lover boy after all those love games. What had happened here was pretty obvious. The man was naked. Salvo reached out and got hold of the dark hair, forcefully pulling up the head to look at the face. It was LaFiamma, there was no mistaking.

And there was blood on the sheets.

Barberi felt a surge of red hot rage. He never would have thought that the old maid still was a virgin. But seeing proof of it now made the shame unbearable. Puttana!* She had preferred that pimp over her future husband. He pulled Joe down from the bed and kicked him in the back with all his force, again and again. The rage made him blind. He felt tempted to take that sweet lover boy and do to him what the pimp had done to his fiancée. But raping an unconscious victim just wouldn´t be any fun. He preferred to hear them scream and plead, it added to the excitement. *whore

But where was the whore? Barberi turned to the two thugs in tow. "Did you look everywhere, in the bathroom, under the bed?" There was a fair amount of mocking sarcasm in Barberi´s voice.

"Sure, Capo.*" The younger man, Paolo Morone, was eager to assure him. "She´s not here, but she didn´t leave the room either, I kept an eye on the door ever since he came here." He pointed at Joe. "And she was here with him, you could hear it alright," he added with a lecherous grin. *boss

"Cut it out, idiota. You wanna tell me she vanished into thin air?" Barberi´s voice was sharp as a knife. "Give me the camera."

Morone pulled out a Polaroid camera. Barberi seized it impatiently and took a few shots of the naked man on the floor. Those would be for his private archive. "Get him dressed."

"But boss, we ain´t nurse maids," the older man, Franco Donati objected.

"Just do it," Barberi hissed.

After they had dressed Joe, Barberi took out a newspaper. It was today´s edition of the Chicago Tribune. He placed it on Joe´s chest and took a few more snap shots. Very nice. He waited a moment until the photos had developed. "Give me your knife," Barberi ordered. Donati handed over his switchblade. Barberi flicked it open and cut Joe´s left thumb. Then he pressed the bloody finger to several of the Polaroids, leaving a bloody fingerprint on each. He wrapped the pile in a page of the newspaper and not without satisfaction stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

"Bind and gag him. Pack him up and take him to our room."

The two men obeyed. A minute later Joe had turned into an inconspicuous lump in a large laundry sack. Paolo opened the door and pulled in a laundry cart they had retrieved from one of the service rooms. They heaved the sack inside and headed for the elevator, pulling the door of the room shut behind them.

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As they had subjected Joe to a fair amount of ether it would take some time for him to come to. Barberi wanted to interrogate the man, wanted to know where that slut had gone. So he decided against his initial plan and instead he made up his mind to keep Joe in the suite Barberi had rented and wait for him to come around.

So while Morone watched over Joe and Donati again went in search of Julia, Barberi placed a few calls and made use of the business facilities that came with the room. He put one of the pictures into an envelope, added a message and called the hotel service to take care of a first class delivery. He poured himself a Bourbon from the bar and sat down in one of the large easy chairs.

"Morone!" he shouted, his temper rising and his patience running short.

"Si, Capo?" The voice from the bedroom was a bit timid.

"Has he woken up yet?"

"No, sorry, Capo."

Barberi got up and entered the bedroom. They had laid Joe on the bed on his side and had removed the gag but he still seemed deeply sedated. Barberi nudged his shoulder. There was no reaction. Knowing that Joe must have some bruises from the kicks in the back he had received earlier, Barberi clenched his fist and hit Joe into the lower back hard. There was no reaction. Barberi tried again, this time directing several punches at Joe´s ribcage, still without getting a reaction.

"Watch him, I need him to stay alive," Barberi growled. Paolo Morone shrugged. He wasn´t a doctor, what was he supposed to do to keep that man alive if the boss hit him like this?

Barberi put on his dark jacket, took a roll of paper money out of the safe and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. Then he headed downstairs. He was in Las Vegas after all, there was no reason why all this should spoil the fun of the trip.

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Though Levon had in general enjoyed his first day off work, he felt strange about having parted with Joe in the way they had. When the evening approached and he had finished some of the repairs he had planned he wondered what Joe had been up to today.

Ever since Joanne had complained about the lousy report Joe had handed in, Levon had felt a hunch, a hunch that something was wrong with the boy. He had pushed it aside all day but now he couldn´t ignore it any more.

After he had showered and dressed, Levon picked up the phone. Maybe Joe would join him for dinner at Chicken´s. That would give Levon the opportunity to check on him without being too intrusive. Perhaps they could play a few games of pool. But Joe seemed not to be at home and if he was he did not pick up the phone.

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Barberi had spent an excellent night. He had been most successful, at the Black Jack table as well as the wheel. After savoring his lucky streak he had noticed a woman at the table who was just his type. He had realized right away that she was a hooker. But who cared. At least she knew how things worked and that guaranteed a maximum of pleasure and a minimum of trouble. The cost would be worth every cent.

It hadn´t taken more than a few minutes to make his point. With a professional smile on her lips the fake blond had stayed at his side from then on. They had spent another hour at the tables, bringing up his profits to a round figure.

Then Barberi had felt hungry and they had an excellent late dinner at the hotel´s restaurant. A few drinks in the bar had further heightened the mood. Finally they had retired to his suite, closing the door on the still watchful Morone and his hostage.

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Levon felt at ease. Though the worry for his partner had stayed at the back of his mind, he had at last been able to relax. For him this meant not that he would sleep in. He got up early nonetheless, but he did not have to hurry to get anywhere. He savored the early morning light and he loved to go for a ride at that time of the day. This was the second morning off work he could go for a ride on Fooler and when he returned he felt really relaxed. He decided to prepare a hearty breakfast and when he entered the house he heard the telephone ring.

He thought nothing of it as he picked up the receiver and was surprised to hear Joanne´s voice.

"Levon?"

"Hi Joanne, what´s up?" At the back of his mind he knew something was wrong, something had happened.

"Joanne?"

"Yeah, sorry Levon, I didn´t mean to call you but I need you to come in."

"What? Why?"

"Could you come in? We have a problem here." There was a strange tension in her voice.

"What kind of problem? Can´t someone else handle it? I´m on holiday." Levon felt annoyed but also a bit uneasy.

"Levon, I´d rather not tell you about it on the phone."

"Ok, can I have breakfast first?"

"No."

Now he knew something was really, really wrong.

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As Levon entered the bullpen he could see Joanne and Annie sitting in Joanne´s office. Their faces were tense. When Joanne saw him she jumped up and beckoned him to come in. Levon entered and closed the door behind him.

"What´s up, Joanne?"

His superior and former partner let down the blinds. Now no one could see inside her office. Levon did not take this as a good sign.

"Joe has been kidnapped."

"What?" Levon was totally perplexed. "When? How do you know?"

Joanne handed him a fax showing the print of what looked like a Polaroid. It showed Joe´s face, eyes closed, dead or unconscious? There was a dark stain on the lower part of the picture, it looked like a fingerprint, and Levon wondered at the dark coloring. "How did you get this," he asked, his feelings running the gamut from bewilderment to panic.

"It´s the copy of a Polaroid Joey´s Uncle in Chicago received this morning. He called me and sent this fax. Annie has already checked the print. It is Joe´s left thumb."

"Why is the print so dark?" Levon was afraid he already knew the answer.

"It´s blood, presumably Joey´s blood."

"What´s the message?" This could only have to do with the hit that was still on Joe´s head, the hit the Chicago mob had put on him after Joe had killed the son of an influential mobster. That hit had been the reason for Joe´s transfer to Houston. And it was still on.

But then Joanne had said that Joe had been kidnapped, not killed. "His uncle is to step down from his position or…" She swallowed hard, "…or Joe will die."

"His position as a mob boss?"

Joanne nodded.

"That won´t happen," Annie voiced what all of them suspected. They exchanged ominous glances.

"Joe´s uncle left that option open for now but he wants us to do everything possible to find Joe. He seemed very concerned."

"If I was in that business I´d be too. Seems that someone wants to take over Uncle Mikey´s organization," Levon said it quite matter-of-factly but the implication was clear. Joe seemed to be caught between the battle lines of a mob war, used as a hostage.

Joanne interrupted his thoughts. "The whole thing is complicated. For once the HPD and the CPD are not interested in getting involved in a mob war. But the abducted is one of us and we need to take care of it from that side." She looked from Annie to Levon, gauging if they got the implication. Both nodded.

"So we will keep it to ourselves and start to investigate from here because Joe was still here two days ago and he surely must have left some traces." Joanne paused a moment, then she addressed Levon. "What did Joe say, about what he wanted to do during his week off?"

"I have no idea, you know that Joe acted weird ever since that letter from the CPD came. He wouldn´t say what was in it."

"Joanne, I think I know something." Both Levon and Joanne looked at Annie in surprise. "A day before Joey went on leave he came to me to borrow some money. I guess I should have told you but he felt embarrassed about it." Annie felt uneasy about the whole matter.

"Well, you´re telling us now, Annie." Joanne did not seem to mind that their wheelchair bound colleague hadn´t spoken about it before. "Did Joey say what he needed the money for?"

"He said he needed to fly someplace, needed to meet a woman, someone he knew from way back. But he assured me that it´s not Chicago he was planning to fly to."

"Damnit, I knew it," Levon cursed. "A woman, the letter seemed to have been from a woman, at least as far as I could see the evening I checked on Joe. It was probably a trap. That idiot. He is so damn gullible. Wonder how he ever got this far as a cop."

"Joey is a good cop and he has good instincts," Joanne countered. "But maybe whoever kidnapped him used someone else, I mean someone innocent to lure him into a trap."

They fell silent for a moment. "I have called Joe´s former superior at the CPD and asked about the letter. But he didn´t know of any message that was sent from there. Levon, now we know that Joe wanted to fly someplace could you check with the airport? It shouldn´t be a problem to find out where he was headed. And you should look around Joe´s apartment, look if you can find something that will help us."

Levon nodded. He donned his hat and left without another word.

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"And how can it be that you are not able to get a hold of Signorina Disanto?" The question bore a clear note of sarcasm and anger. Barberi wiped his mouth with a napkin. He had had an extensive breakfast in his suite. The hooker had left hours ago and he had slept in.

Donati cringed. He knew things were not looking good for him. "Capo, she´s nowhere. I checked with the other girls of her group. But she wasn´t with them. I couldn´t ask them about her, could I? No one is supposed to know we are here."

"That´s no excuse," Barberi thundered. He threw down the napkin. "Have you checked her room?"

"Sure, all her things are still there. I also checked with the concierge, she has not checked out yet."

Barberi had gotten up, pacing impatiently. "What about LaFiamma?" He gestured towards the door to the second bedroom.

Morone, who had been glad not to be the target of Barberi´s attention until now, drew in a breath. "He came around at about midnight. Puked some, probably from the ether, but I think he´s ok in general. Had to gag him again to keep him quiet, though."

"I don´t want a health briefing, I want to know if he said anything about Julia," Barberi shouted.

He stormed into the adjacent room, pulling Joe off the bed. Joe had been dozing and the fall knocked the wind out of him. Barberi bent down and ripped out the gag. Joe panted, his eyes pressed shut against the pain pulsing through his body. Barberi got hold of his hair and pulled up his head.

"Where did the little slut go, tell me."

"What slut?" A hard blow caught Joe in the ribs. His vision narrowed and he moaned.

"Don´t play dumb, I know you were in that room with Julia."

"I was there alone. There was no one with me." Joe was hardly able to form the words. No matter what Barberi did, he would never give Jules away.

"Yeah, sure, I believe you. Just like we all believe in Santa." Barberi looked at his watch. It was already early afternoon. He needed to get rolling. He turned to leave the room to get dressed. "Sedate him again and bag him up. We need to go."

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The three men in black with the obscured hostage in tow observed the helicopter descend on the platform of the hotel rooftop.

"Donati, you stay here and get hold of Giulietta." Barberi´s order came out sharply and his menacing gaze did not allow any opposition. "It is highly unlikely that she got away unnoticed. Check with the other girls, they must know something, I don´t care that no one is supposed to know we were here. Just make your point that they are not to talk about it if they don´t want to end up dead." Barberi was fuming. "I want you to take Julia back to Chicago, dead or alive." Barberi was not prepared to bear the shame of her infidelity. He would teach her what was expected of a future wife. "Is that clear?"

"Si, Capo." Donati had lowered his head.

When the aircraft had settled safely and reduced the rotor speed, they stepped out into the open. Quickly the two thugs heaved the sack in, then Barberi and Morone boarded the aircraft. Donati stepped back into the glass shelter.

A minute later the helicopter was airborne. It headed first for the Las Vegas Airport to drop Barberi off, he needed to get back to his business in Chicago. It would be unwise to be away too long in the present situation. Later, when he had taken over his new position as head of the Disanti branch and the LaFiamma enterprises, there would be plenty of time for leisure pursuits.

Within minutes the helicopter was up again, heading straight for some unknown destination in the North West. The light was getting poor in the early evening and there was need to hurry.

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Levon´s first destination was Joe´s apartment. The partners kept a key to each other´s place for emergencies. As Levon entered the building and passed the mailboxes he noticed a letter protruding from the slit of Joe´s mailbox. He pulled it out and headed for the apartment door.

The place looked just like it always did. At first sight there was nothing suspicious. But Levon knew that this was not the place from which Joe had been abducted. From here he had started out with a still unknown destination. Levon mounted the spiral stairs up to the bedroom. Everything was neat and tidy, the bed made. He opened the wardrobe. With the amount of clothes Joe owned it was hard to tell if anything was missing at all. The drawer in the nightstand was the next thing Levon checked. He found Joe´s set of arms. Obviously Joe had not expected to need them, and that was strange for his otherwise so cautious partner. His lack of weapon would have made him an easier target for the kidnappers.

Back downstairs Levon checked the newspapers lying on a heap on the coffee table. In the middle of the pile he found the manila envelope with the telephone number of the Chicago Tribune scribbled across the front. He looked inside, it was empty except for the second, smaller white envelope. He pulled it out and held it to his nose. It smelled of roses. So it was from a woman, the woman from Joe´s past who was important enough to make him leave almost at once and unarmed. Levon picked up the phone and dialed the number of the Chicago Tribune.

"Chicago Tribune, advertising department, how can I help you?" Levon briefly enquired about the business of the department and learnt that it was in charge of taking in customer´s orders for any ads to be published. No, they could not give information as to a caller by the name of LaFiamma and the content of any ad that customer might have wanted to publish. That was strictly confidential. Levon thanked the lady at the other end of the line and hung up.

Then he remembered the letter in Joe´s mailbox. He pulled it out and without a moment´s hesitation ripped it open. There you are. It was an invoice from the Chicago Tribune. It had been paid with a credit card, presumably Joe´s. And it had a cutout ad as proof of the execution of the order glued to the paper. The ad had been posted in the Lost and Found column of the issue two days ago.

Lost – Briefcase with old private letters lost in Chicago Central Railway Station. No commercial value. High reward for recovery.

There was a P.O. Box stated for replies, presumably a fake one. Why in God´s name would Joe put such an ad in the paper when he hadn´t been to Chicago for over a year? This was quite obviously an encrypted message, and the recipient of the message could only be the woman who had sent the letter via the CPD.

Levon stuffed the invoice and the smaller envelope into the manila one. He closed the door, locked it and headed straight for the airport.

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Paolo Morone was nervous. He hated flying and travelling by helicopter was scaring the shit out of him. He kept his eyes more closed than open during the whole flight. Only briefly did he see the Nevada desert below. The early evening sun dusted the empty land with a warm hue of red and gold.

But Paolo had no eyes for the poetic sight. His thoughts went back to the last two days. His boss, Barberi, had been totally enraged when they had not been able to get hold of his fiancée. Now it was up to Donati to find her. Paolo did not envy him. The likelihood of finding a woman who wanted to get away in Las Vegas was zero. At least as far as an idiot like Franco Donati was concerned.

Paolo sighed. So he was really glad he had been assigned to the other job, the one of guarding the nephew of Mikey LaFiamma. The guy didn´t seem to be the sharpest knife in the drawer either. He wasn´t even carrying guns and it had been very easy to overpower him. They had caught him completely off guard. To watch over the guy wouldn´t be a problem. Paolo was really expecting it to be a kind of holiday. He had, therefore, taken care to bring along an ample amount of pot. Paolo had gotten rather used to the stuff. It wasn´t as dangerous and costly as cocaine, and he liked the relaxing effect of the drug. Not that he was an addict, far from it. He could stop consuming it any day, did it just for fun in fact.

Paolo looked up, his train of thought interrupted. He realized that the scenery had changed drastically. Where there had only been desert before, there was now a vast and endless forest spread over mountainous terrain. He looked more closely. There were also large threads of mist covering the mountains and forest.

"Shit, shit." The pilot scanned the terrain intently.

"What´s wrong?" Paolo felt uneasy. Shouldn´t that guy be at ease in his aircraft. Why did he seem so nervous?

"I can´t find it. Shit, they gave me the wrong directions."

"Aren´t you supposed to know where you´re going?"

"Sure, but I´ve only just moved to the area recently. And it´s foggy and getting dark. I´m not really sure." The pilot peeked out and directed the helicopter over the forest in a back and forward motion, searching.

Another twenty minutes later the light had waned dangerously. They could hardly see anything. Paolo held on to the armrest of his seat in fright.

"There, that must be it." The pilot stared down at an invisible point in the dark forest.

"What, where?"

"Down there, that must be the place. It´s fully stocked with supplies, firewood, radio equipment. That´s where I´m supposed to set you down."

Paolo felt relief. He had dreaded the flight and would gladly trade it for the solid earth, however humble the lodging might turn out to be.

The helicopter descended, there was a small clearing in front of the wooden building. The pilot pointed out that he should get off there. Paolo unbuckled and got hold of his bag. The helicopter descended some more. The pilot gestured to him to open the door. Paolo pulled the handle, the door opened, he threw out his bag and then forcefully pushed the sack with the hostage over the edge. The sack landed on the ground and Paolo jumped after it.

Paolo was glad to be out of that thing. He hated flying. The helicopter lifted off the ground and was gone in an instant.

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At Houston Airport Levon had no difficulties finding out where Joe had been headed. He had presented his ID as an officer from the HPD and the employee at the counter had not demanded a court order or any such thing. He had typed the name of the person given into the computer and within seconds he had come up with the destination Las Vegas.