Tail of two killers, p.27
Tail of Two Killers, page 27
part #4 of Dog Groomer Mysteries Series
The lady bikers retreated inside the bar, dragging some of the men with them.
‘You look cold,’ observed the alpha male, shrugging off his jacket and leather doublet. ‘I have to keep my cut,’ he said, taking back the leather waistcoat thing, ‘but you can have my jacket.’
Barbie gratefully accepted it, revelling in the warm, masculine scent it gave off as she slipped it over her shoulders. It was big on her and that allowed her to wrap it around and overlap at the front. She was instantly warmer.
‘Barbie, let’s go!’ shouted Chelsea. The women had arrived back at the corner of the building. Unsure what they might see, Chelsea stuck her head out to sneak a peek and was genuinely disappointed to find the tall blonde being romanced by the unfairly handsome biker.
‘Barbie, is it?’ the alpha male asked, his tone soothing and gentle. ‘You look like you have had a tough day. Is there anything I can help you with?’
Finding her voice finally, Barbie said, ‘I saw you in the bar earlier.’
‘And I saw you,’ he replied. ‘The Chinese gang, have they continued to cause you bother?’
‘A little,’ Barbie admitted.
‘Barbie! Come on!’ yelled Patricia. ‘We’ve got it. Let’s go!’
‘I have to go,’ Barbie whispered, entranced by the pack leader’s beguiling smile and eyes.
‘Yes,’ he nodded, ‘Your friends appear impatient. Before you go.’ He grabbed Barbie’s left wrist, gently stopping her from escaping while he fished in his pocket for something.
At the corner, the women all saw the man grab their friend. As one they tensed, ready to go to her aid if that was what they had to do.
‘He’s going for a knife!’ squealed Patricia.
What appeared in the man’s hand a moment later wasn’t a knife though, it was a pen. He bit the cap off, and holding Barbie’s arm, he began inscribing his number. He finished it with his name ‘Wolf’ and brought his eyes back up to meet the blonde’s.
‘So you can give me back my jacket,’ he explained. ‘Call me when you are done.’
Mesmerised, Barbie had to really think about how her legs worked just to get them moving again.
Wolf pushed her away, releasing her wrist with a final word, ‘Go.’
‘Barbie! Hurry!’ yelled Chelsea again with Teeny and Patricia making urgent gestures to break her reverie.
Coming to her senses, and wondering what had just happened, Barbie ran to the corner where her friends were waiting. Before she turned down the alley to head back to their car, she took one last look over her shoulder to find the bike pack leader still in the street, his muscular frame outlined by the streetlight behind him. Then, yanked by her arm, she lost sight of him.
They were on their way to Freddie Lee’s but if they thought the worst of the evening was now behind them, they were very much mistaken.
20
NEW PLAYER
‘Hello, girls,’ said a shadow just as they all got back to the Buick. A dark form detached itself from the side of a building in shadow to step into the light holding a machine pistol in its right hand. The man, unsurprisingly Chinese, was grinning as if he’d just been told something funny.
They were trapped again. Having parked out of the way to sneak into the bar via the back door, they were out of sight of everyone and all alone with an armed man. He wasn’t wearing a suit and an eye mask, so he wasn’t one of Vera Wong’s men, and he wasn’t displaying the symbol of Yibo’s Fou Chin Clan. However, since there were so many other gangs and individuals after the marker, it did not come as a surprise that someone had found them.
‘I believe you have something that belongs to me,’ the man said, his voice calm and controlled.
‘Who are you?’ asked Miss May, attempting to keep her own voice calm.
The muzzle of the gun rose an inch. ‘I’m not going to ask again,’ the man growled. ‘I already killed Kris Wu. I won’t even break a sweat killing the five of you.’
‘You killed Kris Wu!’ blurted Barbie. ‘You’re the reason my brother is in jail!’
Patricia took a fast step forward to grab Barbie’s arm before she did anything foolish.
Miss May asked, ‘What makes you think we have the marker?’
The gunman chuckled. ‘It was in that biker bar, wasn’t it? I knew Kris had to have ditched it somewhere along the route. He knew he was going to get caught but even facing death, he couldn’t give up the money. He must have told himself there was still a chance he could escape, and he would double back later to get the marker. Kris was so dumb. He fell for every lie I ever told him.’
The back of Patricia’s skull itched; a sure sign that she was adding things up in her head and getting them right.
Barbie cried, ‘My brother is in jail for your crimes.’ She wanted to knock the gun from his hand and overpower him. She didn’t know if she had the strength or the skill, but she certainly had the righteous energy.
The gunman shrugged. ‘I don’t care. Three seconds ladies. After that I shoot you full of holes and take the marker from your bodies.’
A second of silence ticked by.
‘Here,’ said Miss May, holding up the marker.
The gunman’s eyes sparkled upon seeing it.
Barbie turned away from him, reaching out to take the small piece of embossed card from Miss May.
‘I’ll give it to him.’
Close enough to whisper, Chelsea blurted, ‘That’s our only bargaining chip. Once he has it, he’s just gonna shoot us all. To death.’
Barely able to believe she was saying it, Barbie replied, ‘When I hand it over, I’m going for his gun. He won’t expect it. Be ready to back me up, okay? All we have to do is get him to the ground and call the police.’ Barbie knew she was strong for a woman, her life as a gym instructor ensured her muscles were far more capable than they looked, and her friend, Patricia’s butler, Jermaine, had taught her some simple fighting moves.
The man was Kris Wu’s killer. If she could just get his gun, this nightmare would be over, and her brother would walk free.
‘I’m coming with you,’ whispered Chelsea.
When Barbie met Chelsea’s eyes, Miss May hissed, ‘She knows karate.’
Barbie just nodded. Unable to say anything else, she took the marker from Miss May’s unresisting hand and turned around to face the gunman. She was going to distract him with the thing he wanted and put all her effort into taking the gun out of his hand. She could see the moves in her head. Grab his arm and force it down, spin into him with her left elbow high to connect with his face, then use both hands to twist his gun hand backward.
Chelsea could see it all too. Barbie was ahead of her, and she couldn’t now nudge her to one side without their actions looking questionable. She would wait for Barbie to go for the gun then strike out at his hand.
Yeah, none of that happened.
21
THE STING
A s Barbie took her first step toward the gunman, headlights swung into the alley to blind them all. Momentarily startled by the unexpected change in circumstances, Barbie should have grasped that moment to go for the gun.
Instead, she hesitated like any normal person would and missed her chance.
The gunman slammed into her, snatched the marker from her hand, and shoved her roughly away. As she fell back, she got to see the vicious leer on his face as he gripped the treasured piece of card triumphantly. Then the world filled with bright light and noise as he started firing, emptying a full magazine at the car heading his way.
Gunfire returned, the five women hugging the dirty asphalt as shots whizzed by above their heads. It shut off almost instantly as the sound of fast feet reached the next corner and faded away.
Kris Wu’s killer was escaping!
The car screeched to a halt inches from Big Dan’s uncle’s wounded Buick. It had fresh bullet holes in it from the latest shots exchanged and a taillight had gone. Big Dan was not going to be happy.
Another car arrived, and another, and when Patricia looked up, she saw how much trouble they were in.
It was the Fou Chin Clan.
‘Get them up,’ commanded the harsh voice of Mr Yibo.
The women were already trying to get to their feet, Chelsea and Barbie both giving Miss May a helping hand when the Chinese gang members started grabbing them.
‘Okay, okay,’ Miss May protested. ‘I’m doing it already.’
The five women were hauled to their feet and grabbed roughly by their arms so they faced the Fou Chin leader.
‘Where is my marker?’ Mr Yibo demanded.
Feeling indignant, Miss May said, ‘You lied to us. You claimed Kris Wu stole it from you. The money was stolen from the Shenyang family, wasn’t it?’
‘It is of no consequence,’ Yibo snapped.
Patricia argued. ‘I think maybe it is. I think the Shenyang family are the big players here and that means you are either trying to curry favour by recovering it for them …’ Patricia watched his eyes to see how he reacted, ‘or you are in trouble and trying to fix the situation you find yourself in.’
Mr Yibo’s eyes twitched, annoyance or possibly fear flitting across his face.
‘I think we struck a nerve,’ Chelsea saw the man react too. ‘He’s in trouble.’
‘Kris Wu was one of yours,’ Miss May stated. ‘He stole twenty million from the Shenyang family and now you have to get it back to them before they exact retribution on you.’
Rage filled Yibo’s face. He didn’t need to admit it for the women to know they were right.
‘Hey!’ the new voice came from the mouth of the alley and all heads turned to see Wolf standing exposed in the open. Seeing the cars pull into the alley just after the women, he’d chosen to investigate.
Yibo twitched his head. ‘Kill him,’ he sneered.
The nearest two thugs spun around, bringing their assault rifles up already firing. There was no one there by the time their bullets reached the alley mouth, Wolf had already ducked back into cover behind the building.
‘What about the dames, boss?’ asked the man pinning Teeny’s arms to her sides.
Yibo shot the women an angry glare. ‘Leave them. They mean nothing.’
Abandoned in the alley, the women got to watch as Mr Yibo and the Fou Chin Clan ran for their cars.
‘Where are we going?’ the thug wanted to know.
‘Freddie Lee’s!’ Shouted Mr Yibo. ‘If whoever that was has the marker, he will be trying to get there as fast as possible. We have no time to lose!’
‘We have to go too!’ Chelsea ran for the Buick. ‘We don’t have the marker and if Kris Wu’s killer gets away, we have nothing at all.’
‘I’m never running again,’ huffed Miss May, hurrying back toward the car but barely able to believe the pace of events or that they were entertaining chasing the armed Chinese criminals.
The Fou Chin were already leaving, their cars bursting from the far end of the alley to arrive back on Stanton Street with their tires slewing road dirt and their engines racing.
Chelsea dropped back into the driver’s seat of Big Dan’s uncle’s once immaculate car. The Buick was leaning to one side now, the driver’s door mirror was missing, a stray bullet leaving behind nothing but a jagged piece of metal where the mirror had once mounted, but the engine ran when she turned the key.
It became a straight up race. They had to get to Freddie Lee’s before the man with the marker could exchange it for the money and vanish. They also had to avoid getting killed by the Fou Chin clan, the man with the marker, or anyone else that turned up for the party.
Things were tense in the Buick. Terror and adrenalin powered their pulses - none of them wanted to do what they were doing, and each held separate fears for how the next few minutes might play out, but they believed their only chance to get Bobbie and Petey out now was to catch the unknown player before anyone else could kill him or he could escape with the money.
On the backseat of the ruined car, Miss May and Patricia were busy discussing what they had seen and what it could mean. They had met the killer and the man revealed that Kris Wu knew him.
‘He said Kris believed all the lies he ever told him,’ Miss May recited the unknown player’s words.
‘That might have allowed him to get close,’ commented Patricia. ‘I bet Kris thought it was a friendly face approaching him.’
‘Worse than that,’ argued Miss May. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if he convinced Kris to leave the Orange Banana Bar with him. Kris must have thought he was saved, but the man was leading him to his death.’
Patricia gave Miss May a meaningful look. ‘I think I know who it might be.’
Miss May met her eyes. ‘Me too. He’s all by himself.’
‘Exactly,’ Patricia agreed.
‘Who?’ demanded Chelsea from the driver’s seat, ‘Who is he?’
‘Yeah, who?’ Teeny, sandwiched between the two sleuths, voiced her curiosity too. ‘I feel more behind than usual.’
Barbie twisted in the front passenger seat to thump her friend’s arm. ‘Patty you are always doing this. Tell me what you know or so help me …’
‘Everybody, hold onto your horses!’ yelled Chelsea. They were back at Elizabeth Street where they would find the haberdashery and surely Kris Wu’s killer. She cranked the steering wheel hard to the left, sliding the car around a tight bend in a manner the car was never designed to endure. Fighting hard to keep the rear car of the Fou Chin Clan in her sight, she’d pushed the car to its limits.
As she fought the wheel and the passengers all found themselves thrown against the opposite side of the car, something went clang and Chelsea lost control.
‘Waaaaaaahhh!’ Chelsea screamed as the steering wheel lost all resistance and simply spun in her hands. It was no longer connected to anything!
Her thoughts on the matter were echoed by the passengers, each finding their own preferred pitch in which to scream.
Mercifully, the brakes still worked, and Chelsea was able to bring the car to a stop before it mounted the kerb and slammed into a building. The giant car’s back end slid around, bringing them broadside into the middle of the road.
They were back in Elizabeth Street, the haberdashery just fifty yards ahead of them where the Fou Chin’s cars were now parked.
The Fou Chin were not getting out though, and from their position in the car, the ladies could see why.
The Tianjin Clan led by Vera Wong were back. Her emerald-green coat ruffled in the light breeze, so too her hair, but none of that caught the eye because her intense angry stare was all captivating. Spread out to her left and right just like before, were her besuited men. Except now, half of them were sporting white bandages and several looked to be in pain and struggling to stand. The other, very noticeable, difference was the machine pistols they carried in place of their hatchets.
They meant business.
‘I want that marker!’ shouted Vera Wong, her words aimed at the Fou Chin Clan.
The rear door of Mr Yibo’s Bentley opened, and he stepped out.
‘I do not have the marker,’ he replied.
‘Liar!’ she screamed, her face contorting with rage. ‘Why are you here if you do not have it?’ Her troops all raised their guns.
Mr Yibo’s calm exterior cracked. She had the drop on him. If her men started firing, they would cut his gang to pieces before they could get out of their cars or reverse out of the way.
‘Another man has the marker,’ he insisted, irritation evident in his voice. ‘While you corner me, he is exchanging it for the stolen Shenyang money. Join with me and we can return it together.’
‘Return it?’ laughed Vera Wong. ‘I am going to keep it. The Shenyang are not going to seize control of New York.’
In the Buick, Chelsea realised no one was going anywhere because the broken car they were in blocked the escape route.
‘We have to get out of here,’ she murmured.
Sitting next to her, Barbie agreed. ‘Chelsea is right. This is a tinderbox. One false move and there could be bullets flying everywhere.’
The women grabbed door handles, poised to get out, and would have done so had the mouth of the street behind them not suddenly filled with bodies.
‘Oh, God, who are these guys?’ wailed Teeny. ‘Pine Grove murders are so much more peaceful than this!’
Miss May gulped. ‘At a guess, I would say they are the Shenyang.’
Her stab in the dark proved to be on the money and both the Fou Chin and Tianjin gangs had frozen to the spot.
There had to be close to a hundred members of the Shenyang family blocking the road. They filled it from side to side and were three deep in places. They were all armed and Patricia picked out two men who had chased them at Grand Central a few hours ago.
The women in Big Dan’s uncle’s car were hopelessly trapped.
‘You wish to keep my money, do you?’ a voice rang out from the centre of the Shenyang, drawing eyes toward the diminutive figure of an old man. Like an archetypal Chinese master, his facial hair was long and almost white, trailing from his chin and beneath his nose to form a long beard. He wore a suit, and on his feet were sandals.
There could be no doubt he led the Shenyang family and was its patriarch.
‘You think we are not able to take control of this city?’ he questioned, his eyes invisible in the dark but undoubtedly staring straight at Vera Wong.
On the spot and too late to retract her words, the head of the Tianjin gang had little choice but to fight. She was outnumbered, but where the Shenyang were exposed, her troops had the option of cover to their left and right, plus the Fou Chin Clan were smack in the middle between the two opposing factions – they were the ones in real danger if the shooting started.
Unwilling to wait to see who started shooting, Patricia shoved her door open.
