Derry, Northern Ireland

Derry, Northern Ireland
A book I'm working on is set in this town.

Friday, December 22, 2017

Head banging can work..

I finally got an idea as to what the problem was with Underground Guy -- this section of the chapter was too full of detail. So...here's what I've honed it down to. Devlin's been released on bail and was attacked in his hotel by someone with a knife. The cops think he arranged it to throw suspicion off himself. It's the next morning and he's been awakened to be informed his sister-in-law wants to come up and see him.

-------

I grabbed a hotel robe and wrapped myself up in it then washed my face. I remembered I hadn't bathed the night before but figured I wouldn't be too rank, yet. Then came the knock at the door.

I opened it to find my brother's wife looking at me with an expression that could be amusement or bemusement or a need to use the toilet, for all I could tell. She was in her casual chic mode and looked like she'd just finished prepping for a ladies' lunch, not sat up all night on a crowded plane. I let her in with a growl of, "You got here fast."

"I was invited to a baby shower, Dev," she said. "I wasn't sure I could make it, but my mother changed her plans to watch the boys and Marci said, even though she's really busy, she'll handle Colin for Monday and Tuesday. So, here I am."

"Good ol’ Marci. No bags?"

"Downstairs. I’m staying with friends."

"You talk to Colin?"

"When do I not?"

Oh, shit, this was gonna be rough. "I'll order coffee."

"Tea, please." She looked at my arm. "Rough night?"

"My room got broke into," I said. "Not even worth Channel Four taking note."

She just nodded.

I put in an order for a full English breakfast and the hell with the cost, then sat on the bed as she eased into a chair, her eyes locked on me. I'd seen that look before when I'd done something she didn't approve of, like a mother disappointed in her child. I took in a deep breath, grabbed a pillow, and shifted to lie back, my eyes watching her eyes watch me. "Okay, let's have it."

"Glass always half-empty with you, isn't it?"

"Diana, I ache all over. I didn't sleep well. And I'm still freaked out at getting attacked, last night, so cut the crap and get down to -- "

"Some of our dealers were interrogated by FBI agents, this weekend,” she said. “About you. Two in Los Angeles. One in Chicago. Three in New York."

Shit. "Why?"

"The FBI’s questions were regarding an extortion racket, and FYI -- Griffin Faure filed the complaint."

I laughed. "You’re not gonna tell me he came back to the States to admit what happened?"

"He’s been back for a while,” she said, causing me to sit up. “And yes -- he’s telling his version, with the suggestion there may be others who've been, oh, caught in the same trap."

"Papa Faure's pushing this, and he’s just pissed 'cause golden boy and I had some fun,” I snarled, then added for good measure, “and I recorded it."

"I know. In fact, I know all about that.”

“So much for client-attorney privilege.”

“You think Hamilton told me?”

That made me blink. “You...you haven't seen the videos, have you?"

"You can be sure the FBI has. What's more -- a certain Congressman is helping the Faures push this. Now what you did with that shit son of his -- I really don’t care. He stole money from us and nearly drove Colin to suicide. He got off light. What I want to know is why this shit is coming down on us, now, and what you did to cause it."

That made me look closer. She had her mommy eyes on; I'd seen them when one of the kids was trying to pull a fast one. "How did you find all this out?"

"I used to be a party girl in the city that never sleeps and could teach Vegas a thing or two about keeping it there. Once I make friends, they're friends for life. You never know who'll come in handy when you need some help. And I get the feeling you're in need of that."

"You think you can offer any?"

"Depends on how you answer a question."

"Oh, jeez, that crap, again?” I sighed and leaned forward. “Okay, hit me."

Her smile widened. "I just need to know -- did you ever know someone named Kenneth Tavelscha?"

Oh, son-of-a-bitch, it was worse than I thought. I just nodded.

She nodded back. "Have you kept up with him?"

"Not since college."

"He's that Congressman. Republican. Bought and paid for by the Faure organization, and they have been cross-referencing. Apparently, for a while, because less than an hour after you'd been arrested by the Metropolitan Police -- and yes, I do know about that, too.”

“Christ,” shot out of me. “You didn’t tell Colin?”

“Devlin! And freak him out?”

“Right. Sorry. Guess I’m the one freaking out.”

“You should be, because Tavelscha had the TSA add your name to the no-fly list, and an hour after that, the FBI opened up that investigation into your blackmail racket."

"Oh, fuck!" Papa Faure’s attack dogs were barking loud and clear.

Fortunately, room service arrived and I was able to shift focus away from my inner chaos. I let them set everything up, signed the bill and tipped them and got them out, the whole time trying to figure out what I should and shouldn't say to her. Didn't do any good; her mommy eyes never left me. She calmly poured out tea for herself and coffee for me, then set up a chair beside the tray, took a slice of toast and piece of bacon, and sat back in her own chair.

I kept standing by the door, unable to move, my brain spinning.

After another minute of watching me and sipping her tea and nibbling at her food, she said, "Devlin -- you know how Colin and I met, right?"

I had to nod. "He...he got lost and you...uh, you found him. Brought him home."

"You know where I found him?" I shrugged a yes. She smiled. "I always thought it interesting you never said anything."

I sighed and glanced at her, my mind beginning to focus. "I didn't need to."

Her smile widened. "Y'know, the only reason I approached him was, I'd heard my usual connection got busted, and that I should assume the new guy's a cop. Then I saw Colin, and no way did he belong in that neighborhood. Fuckin’ rookie, was my first thought, so I went over to play with him. Be a real bitch. But he looked at me with those lost dark lovely eyes and the first words out of his mouth were, Oh my god, you're so beautiful.” She sighed. “I wasn't. I was at the tail of a party weekend. But his attitude...his whole demeanor was so simple and straight and honest and sweet, I fell apart. Sobbed. He said he was sorry and gave me a handkerchief. Cheap white cotton. Buy 'em by the half-dozen. I still have it. Wouldn't part with it for anything."

I turned to her. "You're good for him. For both of us."

"Thank you for that." She smiled and pulled out a tissue to dab her eyes. "It took me ten minutes to find out he'd met with a client and parked his car in a cheap lot to save a few bucks, but couldn't remember which one and was close to falling apart. I offered to call someone but he panicked and said you were at school and your father off on business and no one could know how he'd screwed up. So we went to every lot I knew -- and found it at the fifth one. By that point he was shaking so badly, he couldn't drive, so I got behind the wheel. And I stayed. And we got married. And we have three beautiful perfect sons." Then she looked straight at me to add with a near growl, "And I will never, never, never let anyone -- anyone at all -- hurt him or them. So if you don't give me the complete and absolute truth, I'm here to have fun at a baby shower for an old friend and then back to New York.”

Where they will circle the wagons to protect the business, and I will be fucked.

Of course, she was right. I'd just been trying to postpone the explosion till I was back in the states and had our own attack dogs lined up, ready to rumble. Hamilton could get just as down and dirty as the other side, but he needed my version of the story and no way was I spilling it in a phone call or email. Now it looked like I was going to be stuck in the UK for a lot longer than I thought and I was already building up a nice paranoid idea that what happened last night was not merely a burglary gone wrong.

It must have shown on my face, because she kicked the chair away from the tray and said, "Sit."

Like a well-trained dog, I did.

"Now tell me all about Kenneth."

"Why? What good would that do?"

"Dev, this son-of-a-bitch is messing with my family. I want to know why, and you’d better fucking tell me."

I jolted at her anger. Warrior Queen all but flared from every fiber of her. It was to be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, or God help you.

That's when the beast gave a short huff and let out a long sigh, and lay down to sleep. So I focused on my breakfast, and as I ate, I laid it all out about Kenneth fucking Tavelscha.

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