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The Things We Do for Love Page 6
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“You’re serious about this shit, aren’t you?”
“Dead serious, Ms. Doe. I consider you to be at risk and what I’m telling you to do could be what keeps you alive. Any other questions?”
“No sir.”
Davey pulled up at the hotel. I hopped out and opened the rear door. Jane moved out smartly and then Ballantine. They followed me up the steps, into the lobby and toward the elevators. I inserted the keycard and the doors popped open. As I pulled the key out, Jane and Ballantine went by me into the elevator. I made it in just before the doors slid closed.
Everyone turned around in the car as it rose smoothly up to the penthouse. The hydraulic system brought us to a gentle halt. The doors separated and the hall was empty. I expected it to be but you never know. “Follow me,” I said, and walked down to the penthouse. Unlocking the door, I motioned for them to stay in the hall. It took me ten minutes to check the rooms out. Nothing new, nothing out of place.
I opened the door and motioned them to come in. As I closed the door behind us I relaxed for the first time since we’d picked up Ballantine. Bodyguarding is like hitting an inside-the-park home run. When you’re going for it all, a triple’s just a flashy out. We’d just crossed first base.
CHAPTER 13
Jane Doe swept past me into the room, swinging her head, taking it all in. Her wrinkled nose and pursed mouth said something stunk. Dropping her bag on the table she turned on Ballantine.
“Well, Nicky, what’s going on?” She raised her eyes to take in the whole room. I moved out of the line of fire and leaned, arms crossed, next to the door.
“We got these threats against you and ah …” Nicky stopped, his head bobbing, and his eyes darting like a chicken looking for that last kernel on the floor of his coop.
“And what? Come on.”
“So I took them seriously. We’ve got a lot at stake here and I didn’t want anything to disturb you.”
“Right. All of a sudden you’re so solicitous of my mental health. I told you I didn’t want to sign this deal. It’s too soon, they want too much, but no, you haven’t given me an inch of room. If it isn’t you, it’s Axel.” She put her hands on her hips and mocked him in a nasal sing-song voice. “‘C’mon honey, I mean isn’t this what we always wanted, money to burn?’ Shit.”
There was a knock at the door. I called through it. Davey answered. I let him in. He took one look at the other two, wisely nudged me along the wall and assumed my arms-crossed-lean right next to me.
“And who are these two?” She sneered.
I waited for Nick’s reply. What he said would give me some idea of our chances of staying employed.
“Uh, this is Leo Haggerty,” Nick said pointing at me, “and that’s uh …”
“Dave Isaacs, ma’am.” Davey said, stepping away from the wall, smiling as if this was a gym class roll call.
“I’ve retained their services as bodyguards while you’re here, Jane. Just through tomorrow. Until you fly back to L.A.”
Jane walked over toward us, then turned away. “Nicky, do we have a bar here?”
Nicky looked at me and I nodded yes. “Yeah,” he said, “what do you want?”
“Make me a Typhoon, Nicky. Gin and pernod. Two to one, straight up.”
While Nicky was at the bar with his back to us, Jane looked from one to the other of us like we were pretty sorry specimens.
“What do you think?” she asked me. Her eyes were violet, definitely violet.
“About what?” I said stupidly.
“About what! The threats. You aren’t here to do my hair, right?”
“True. I think they’re legitimate. There’s a consistency to the messages and an increasing amount of hostility. That’s typical of people with ‘grudges.’ They brood, they blame everything on some imagined injury and the rage builds.”
“You sound like you know about this kind of thing. What are the chances that it’s just a crank, that nothing will happen?”
“Statistically speaking, pretty high. Most threats come to nothing. I am convinced that there’s someone out there who hates your guts. I’m also concerned about the way the letters are written. Most threats are warnings. They provide directions on how to end the threat. Like leave town or die. I take that as a sign of ambivalence, that the person isn’t totally committed to doing violence. But these notes have no guidelines for you. That’s a bad sign. The wall between wanting to kill someone and actually doing it is pretty high for most people. This person’s tap-dancing on top of that wall right now. Where they’ll come down depends on which way their emotional winds are blowing. But the odds are still low. You have to understand that even with us here, there’s no guarantee of safety. All we can do is make it as difficult as possible for someone to get to you. Someone who doesn’t care if they get caught or killed can kill anyone, no matter how good the security is.”
“Okay, I’m convinced. Just until I split tomorrow, right?”
“That’s right. I’d like you to read the letters. They might mean something to you that I’ve missed. Every little bit helps.”
“Is that necessary, Haggerty?” Nick said as he handed Jane her drink. “I’d really like to spare Jane from all this bullshit.”
“I understand. It’s pretty frightening to read a letter where someone threatens to kill you, but I don’t think she can afford not to. Murder’s a desperate measure. Maybe the letters will tell us something we can use to take the edge off his desperation, give him a way out of his predicament. I’d think that’s in all our interests.”
“I’ll read the letters. Is there anything else you want me to do? I’ll be honest, I don’t want to hole up in here for the rest of my stay, like a damned rabbit.”
“That won’t be necessary. My job isn’t to dictate what you can or can’t do. I’d just like to know your plans so Davey and I can take the necessary precautions to increase your safety, or at least tell you if something is a high-risk situation so you can decide what you want to do. We have certain standard procedures and I’ll be glad to explain them to you and try to work around them if you refuse to follow them. The only thing I require is that if we go to condition Red, which means that there’s an identified attacker, you must do as I tell you immediately. We can’t discuss it or take a vote. You have to trust my judgment. It’s what you’re paying for.”
Jane laughed and shook her head “All right, I’ll do exactly what you tell me. Boy, if my mother could see this. Sixteen years she tried to get me to say that. You did it in what, thirty minutes?”
“Maybe she didn’t understand how desperate you were.”
“Maybe she just didn’t care,” Jane said over her drink.
CHAPTER 14
The phone rang and I went over to pick it up.
“Mr. Miller, this is Martin Duncaster. There are three gentlemen here who wish to see a Miss Jane Doe. They say that they are members of her, no, uh, excuse me, the band. Can you assist me with this?”
“Hold on a second, Martin.” I beckoned Ballantine with my index finger. I devoutly wanted to ram it far enough up his nose to see if he had any brains at all. Covering the mouthpiece, I turned away from Jane and glared at Nicky boy. “The band is downstairs, Nicky. How did they find out where Jane is?” I whispered.
Nicky shrugged his shoulders and looked blankly at me. “I told them. What’s the problem? They sure aren’t the ones who want to kill her?”
Nicky chuckled at his insight. Moron. I tried to stay calm.
“Did you tell them why she’s staying here?”
“No.”
“So, they have no idea that there’s any reason to keep quiet about it. How many people do you think they’ve each talked to? You have totally …” I bit off the thought and swallowed it.
Behind my weak smile I reassessed Ballantine with and without charity. “What’s done is done. We have to work around it. I’ll go down and bring them up.”
I told Martin that I’d be right down and hung up the phone.
Jane looked at me. “What was that all about?”
“The band is here. They want to come up.”
She shook her head. “Fine. Let’s get this over with. You never let up do you, Nicky?”
“Do you want to see them?” I asked. “If not, I’ll send them away. Simple as that.”
“Simple as that. Don’t I wish,” she said bitterly. “No, they won’t go away. Not until they get what they want or they’ve ruined what’s left.”
At the door I whispered to Davey, “I’ll bring them up one at a time, and search them out in the hallway when we get off. If I break radio silence, there’s trouble. Got it?”
“No sweat.”
“One rock ’n’ roll band coming up.” I stepped out into the hall and watched the door slowly close off Davey’s chagrined smile.
The transfer didn’t go off too badly. Sturdivant made kissing noises as I frisked him; Rohatan was intrigued by the whole thing and wanted to talk my ear off. Andersson noisily endured the search and stalked off to the suite.
When I returned, the group was sprawled all over the sofa, talking in heated but hushed tones.
Ballantine came up to me. “What you hear in this room stays in this room. Is that understood?”
I bit my lip at this pathetic attempt to turn the tables. “Understood, Mr. Ballantine.”
“Him too?” He asked nodding toward Davey.
“Mr. Ballantine. Davey Isaacs has seen enough things to topple our government and a couple of allies too and he hasn’t written a book yet. I think we’re safe.”
“Good. Good,” he said, trying the word on to see if he believed it. Davey and I took a pair of chairs from the dining room table and tried to become furniture ourselves. I went to the bar and brought back a soda for each of us.
Moments later Andersson lifted up his head and yelled over at us. “Hey, how about you guys go out and get us some food. We’re starving.”
Davey ducked his head and muffled a snort and a curse. “Mr. Andersson,” I said evenly. “There are menus on top of the television. I’m sure that if you call down the kitchen will prepare anything you want. I’ll be glad to bring the food up when it’s ready. Just don’t identify which order is Jane’s.”
“Yeah, uh, well, right. Don’t give a shit if the rest of us get poisoned, huh?”
Sounds real good to me. I just stared blandly at “The Axeman” until he broke it off. Davey was biting his lip. The last thing Andersson was going to do was get that menu.
Sturdivant pushed off the sofa, picked up the menus and tossed them around. He laughed as Andersson tried to ignore the menu in his lap. Jane went to the bar and made herself another drink. Two Typhoons and she’d better seek port. She didn’t have to worry about them wearing her down—she was swimming in a lead bikini. One long gulp and she went to the head. Rohatan took all the orders and called down to the kitchen. No mention was made of who was eating what.
Davey pulled out a deck of cards. “You want to play?”
“No thanks. I think I’ll read.”
Jane came back out and joined the fray. Time crept along as their voices rose. Davey was well into his game of solitaire. I nursed my soda and read, tapping my heels together softly. Finally the phone rang. The food was ready. I told everyone I’d bring it up.
Davey looked up as I left. “Same as before,” I said, and walked out. If I broke radio silence, there was trouble.
I took the elevator down to the lobby. An unattended serving cart was there when the doors opened. I pulled the cart inside and inspected it and all the dishes before sending the elevator back up. There was a tub of escargots, a plate with about a cord of neatly stacked white asparagus spears, half a loaf of a country paté, a veal Oscar, two filets mignons, a lobster salad, a grilled swordfish steak and an entire chocolate mousse cake. Three bottles of wine accompanied the food. I looked over the plates, glasses and silverware. Everything looked and smelled okay. When the doors opened, I wheeled the cart down the corridor and knocked on the door.
Davey let me in and I moved the cart into the space between the sofa and the table.
“The food’s here,” Sturdivant said. “Outstanding,” Axel said as he slithered over the back of the sofa and attacked the food. Rohatan and Sturdivant followed him, talking and gesturing at each other. Nicky and Jane brought up the rear.
Davey seemed at a dead-end as I sat down next to him and cracked open my book. He cheated himself while I read.
“Jesus Christ, you pigs,” Jane barked. I looked up.
The cart was pretty much empty; a couple of snails, some asparagus, and a half bottle of red wine were left. “Fuck, didn’t you even ask these guys if they wanted any food?” Without waiting for an answer Jane walked over to us.
“Do you want anything to eat?”
“No, that’s okay. We’re not hungry.” I looked at Davey, who nodded in agreement. “Thanks though. We’ll eat later.” Like after the hyenas have gone home.
“Are you sure? It’s on me, or us or whatever.” She was starting to weave just a bit.
“No. We’re fine. Thanks.”
She shrugged and went back to the sofa.
“You know, Axel, you’ve become a real pig all of a sudden,” she said, sitting down opposite him.
“Oh, really? Whoa, guys, here comes the word from on high.”
“Fuck you, Axel. You get a whiff of some money and you start to act like you can do anything you want.”
“Goddamn right, bitch. What’s the matter with finally making some money? In case you’ve forgotten, the road less traveled has lousy rest stops. As I recall, you were getting pretty sick of playing shitass dives, and the lousy equipment we had. Some arena dates didn’t seem to bother you. We’ve been poor plenty long enough. I don’t know about you, but we’ve paid our dues.”
“Okay, sure, but the money isn’t everything. Have you read what they want for all that money? Control over the jackets, approval on the lyrics, an obscenity clause for performances. We’re nothing but puppets. If they don’t approve of our songs, if the album isn’t ‘commercial’ enough for them they can just bury it and we’re stuck. We can’t go anywhere else.”
“So, what’s the problem? We can do what they want in our sleep,” Sturdivant said.
“Sure, take the money and run. That’s not how we got to this point. We did what we believed in and it was good, it was us.”
“Yeah, maybe that was us back then, but you just aren’t listening. It isn’t us anymore. It’s you. You don’t want to let anybody else tell you what to do, and you’re cutting our throats, thank you very much. You know it’s your lyrics that get people all jacked up. You could tone it down.”
“Oh, really, it’s all my fault. I’m what’s holding this group back.”
“Damn straight. You’ve never helped with promotions. You never do any interviews. Now it’s no merchandising for you. Too crass.”
Nicky tried to step in and head off this confrontation. “Axel, that really hasn’t been so bad for us. Jane’s become the mystery woman of rock ’n’ roll. We can just play up that angle, use it to our advantage.”
“Yeah, she’s a mystery, that’s for sure,” Axel said, sticking his fork into a piece of cake.
“Don’t blame me for that, Axel. There was a time you understood me pretty well.”
“Yeah, well, things change,” he said, draining his wine glass.
“Don’t they. You’re understanding that bitch out in L.A. pretty good, these days. I forget her name.”
“Fuck you. You don’t own me.”
“Own you, Axel? I don’t even want you.”
The tension in the room had gone up two notches. Davey stopped playing cards and leaned towards me. “Do you believe this bullshit we’re listening to? These people are on top of the food chain. This isn’t something they have to do to pay the bills. This is supposed to be something they love doing. How can they fuck it up so bad?”
“Well, you’re stuck with
me, bitch,” Axel said, as he took the piece of cake on the end of his fork and catapulted it at her. I slid out from behind the table, reached over Axel’s shoulder, closed my hand over his, and twisted the wrist around until it locked. Then I leaned on it.
“That’s enough,” I said, keeping the pressure on and smiling all the while into Axel’s too beautiful face.
“Goddamn right it is. Everybody get out. This is my place, I want you all out, all of you now.” Jane was up, screaming and shaking as she picked pieces of cake out of her hair.
Nicky tried feebly to be conciliatory. “Jane, look, I’m sorry. I apologize for Axel. He didn’t mean it. There’s a lot at stake here. You two have personal problems, okay, but don’t take them out on the group. Try to work that stuff out separately. Let’s not let it affect the music. I mean you people have made some great music together. Let’s not forget that.”
“You want to help, Nicky? Get everybody out of here,” she shrieked, her lips pulled back in rage.
Sturdivant and Rohatan slid out of the sofa, looking back at Jane with wary eyes. Ballantine put his hands on Rohatan’s back and gently steered him to the door. I let go of Axel’s hand and he stood up, rubbing it and trying to look menacing.
“Shall we go, Mr. Andersson?” I pointed to the door and followed him out.
Jane was working her jaw furiously and the corners of her eyes glistened. Davey maneuvered around her, stacking dishes on the cart, and when she wasn’t looking he shook his head.
There was a piece of cake in her hair, right where it turned golden across her temple. I reached up to point it out to her.
“Don’t. Don’t touch me,” she snapped, then spun and walked into the bedroom. The door slammed behind her. I lifted my other hand in a puzzled shrug.
Davey clapped me on my shoulder. “I’ll go out to get a bite. What do you want to eat?”
“I don’t care. Just don’t be too long.”