David Hosp - Among Thieves

The man who had abducted Sally repeated the same ritual over and over. Every few hours he would come down the stairs to give her a sip of water and a bite to eat. There was no kindness; he showed no more feeling toward her than he might toward a plant he was watering. If anything, the longer she was there, the less humanity he seemed to have.

Sally had changed, too. She was now at the point where she might have preferred dehydration to the periodic maintenance. At first, her situation had seemed unreal. That changed when the man brought the body downstairs.

She’d seen that there was someone else in the house when he hurried her through toward the basement, but the man with the dark hair had pushed her downstairs too quickly for her to get a good look at the other man. Now she’d had more of a look than she’d ever wanted, and she knew that if she lived through the ordeal, the man’s face would haunt every minute of sleep she might manage to have.

She couldn’t tell what was happening when she heard her captor open the door the night before, grunting his exertion. She could hear him dragging something down the stairs, and it sounded as if the planks would snap as the weight slammed down, step by step. She knew it was a dead body by the time it reached the bottom of the stairs.

Now he lay there, not more than ten feet from her. The man with the black hair hadn’t even bothered to turn the body over on its stomach or close the eyes; he lay on his side, frozen in death, staring at her. The tongue dangled from the lips, dark and synthetic, like a rubber toy hanging stiff and thick. She could see a deep wound on the chest, and the slice through the neck caused the head to tilt back, revealing what looked like a huge second mouth.

It was starting to smell.

The body chased away any doubt of the danger she was in. She understood fully now that if she was to survive this, it was going to take all of her focus and concentration. She thought briefly about giving up; hoping for death. She’d led a life thick with disappointment and despair, and it wouldn’t be unreasonable for her to call it quits now. After all, hadn’t she suffered enough?

The thought was fleeting, though. If anything, the reminder of what death was-brutal, and lonely, and final-sharpened her desire for life. As she lay there, plastered to the cold, unforgiving cellar floor, she made a vow to herself that she would never again let anyone determine the course of her life. She was done with grown-ups; done with parents; done with relying on others. From now on, she would rely only on herself. That thought gave her hope for the future. That thought strengthened her will to live.

Finn went straight to the clerk’s office at the courthouse once the bail hearing was over. As he walked, he placed a call on his cell phone to a bail bondsman and confirmed the amount needed to secure Devon ’s release. The bondsman was one with whom Finn dealt regularly-a colorful character named Shifty LaRue, whose interests extended to nightclubs and parking lots-and he sent over a messenger with all the forms needed. Finn paid the messenger with a check written on the firm’s account, and within a half hour Devon was brought down in street clothes. He was sweating despite the fact that it was in the fifties outside and there was a chill in the courthouse.

“What now?” Devon asked.

“First, we need to deal with finances,” Finn said.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, Devon,” Finn said. “I just laid out five thousand dollars to get you free. That’s on top of nearly twenty thousand we’ve got sunk into this case in fees so far. Plus, it’s going to get more expensive as the case proceeds.”

“Jesus, you’re fuckin’ kidding, right?” Devon said. “My daughter’s been kidnapped; we’ve got to get her back.”

“And we will. I’ve been on the outside, and my people and I have been dealing with this shit for a week-shit that you knew about and didn’t share with us. For Christ’s sake, Devon, you put me and my people in harm’s way. My associate ended up in the hospital because of you, and this psychopath almost fucked up her pregnancy.”

“I thought you didn’t care about the money. That’s what you said.”

“That was before. I changed my mind; now I want to get paid.”

“I told you, you’re gonna get paid,” Devon said. “But first we get Sally back.”

Finn shook his head. “Bullshit. We get paid now, or you’re on your own. Period. That’s not negotiable, Devon. Hell, I don’t know where you’re gonna be tomorrow. I’m not gonna get stiffed. You say you can pay? Prove it.”

Devon put his hands in his pockets and looked away. “Fine,” he said. “You want your fuckin’ money, I’ll get you your fuckin’ money.”

“Good.”

“But then you’re in this. To the end.”

“As long as we get paid, we’re in this to the end,” Finn agreed.

Devon hesitated a moment. Then he said, “We gotta go to my apartment.”

Finn put his hand out toward the courthouse exit. “You lead the way,” he said.

Kozlowski was waiting for them outside. He’d spent the morning and the first part of the afternoon getting Lissa released from the hospital and set up in her apartment.

“How’s she doing?” Finn asked.

“She’ll be okay,” Kozlowski replied. “I told her to keep the door locked and not let anyone in unless it was you or me. I also told her to keep the phone in her hand and 911 on speed dial.”

“Kilbranish isn’t going after her,” Finn said. “He wants Devon.” He looked at his client and saw the man shiver.

“Where to?” Kozlowski asked.

“ Devon ’s apartment,” Finn replied. “We’re gonna get paid. Then we can deal with getting Sally back.”

Kozlowski nodded. “My car’s in the lot around the corner,” he said.

“You don’t think the three of us can fit in the MG?”

“Fuck you.”

“Right.”

Finn left his car parked, and the three of them headed to the public lot on State Street where Kozlowski had left his car. It was a giant gas-guzzling Chevy Caprice that was at least ten years old. It had enough room in it for a tennis match, though, and even Finn had to admit it was better suited to their needs that day.

No one spoke on the ride to Devon ’s apartment. Finn hadn’t been there since the day he’d picked up Sally. It was hard to believe that was only four days ago. Since then, it seemed as though his entire world had changed, and not for the better.

Kozlowski parked his car in front of the apartment, and they all climbed out. The apartment hadn’t changed. It was still a rathole. Maybe he could take some solace in the fact that the rest of the world went on unaware of the chaos going on all around it. Maybe that provided the only semblance of stability there was in the universe.

Devon pulled out his keys and opened the door. As soon as they stepped in, they all smelled it. It was impossible to miss-the unmistakable stench of rot and decay. “Holy shit, I think I’m gonna throw up,” Devon said.

Kozlowski pulled his gun out. “I’ll go first,” he said quietly.

“Okay,” Finn replied. He hung back as Kozlowski moved into the apartment. There wasn’t much to search. There was a living room in front; in the 1920s, when the place had been built, it had probably been called a parlor. There was nothing amiss there, though. At the back of the living room there was a door and a hallway.

“Where do those lead?” Kozlowski asked Devon.

“The door goes to the kitchen,” he said. “The hallway goes to the bedrooms and a bathroom.”

“How many bedrooms?”

“Two.”

“Anything else back there?”

“A closet, but that’s it.”

Kozlowski held his gun at the ready, with two hands, pointed at the ceiling. He moved across the living room to the hallway. For such a large man, it was amazing the way he could travel without any sound, Finn thought. “Stay here,” he said.