Chapter 12              Los Angeles

It was raining in Southern California. The landing lights of the Learjet 40 cast hazy beams ahead of the aircraft on the dark wet runway of Bob Hope Airport as the pilot reduced power taxiing to the Customs shed at the side of the main terminal. Ground crew directed the aircraft to a parking spot where the engines stopped and wheel chocks put in place. A black SUV appeared from around the building stopping beside the aircraft as the door opened.

            “Is that El Jeffe?” Two men in the control tower watched through powerful binoculars as the passengers emerged.

            “I think so. It’s a big guy. The Customs and Immigration agent will confirm it. He’s not one of the two who left last night. One was the guy they called  Spider. We haven't identified the other one yet.”

            “I’m not sure those Customs guys aren't in on their business, are you?”

            “We don’t have any choice. They’ll sweep the aircraft for drugs but they won’t find any. They never do.”

            Another vehicle replaced the SUV that had driven into the Customs shed and two men and a dog boarded the aircraft.

            The jet had flown in from General Rodolfo Sanchez airport near Mexicali, Mexico. It had been tracked from Columbia to Venezuela, then to Mexico and finally Burbank. The flight had been normal with nothing unusual noted except for a brief period when it was below radar before landing at Mexicali.

            “Is that the same plane that flew in from Aspen last week?”

            “Sure is, it gets around. What happened to the woman that came in on that flight?”

            “She was taken in that black SUV. Our agent followed it to the warehouse on Valerio Street. We haven’t seen her since. Agent McKee made a contact with her before she and that other female disappeared.”

            “I hope we can get something on this gang before it goes on much longer. I’m worried about those women. Why don’t we get the California Labor Commission to investigate the place? That way we can find out what’s happening inside.”

            “Don’t hold your breath for that. Our agency is only interested in drugs, not porn.”

The Boss or El Jeffe as he was known in Columbia cleared Customs and Immigration without incident. Jerry drove out of the airport and directly to the studio. Nothing was said but Jerry could feel hostility radiating from the big man sitting beside him. The drive didn’t take long before the perimeter gate opened for the SUV, then it disappeared inside the warehouse though the rollup truck door. El Jeffe opened his door in a hurry and looked directly at Jerry.

            “Get Juan and the fuckin’ director. I want to see you and them now.” El Jeffe was not a happy man.

            Three men entered the office to face the Boss. The air was electric and the blue 9 mm SIG 226 pistol on the desk didn’t make them feel any better. The Boss picked it up and sighted down the barrel.

            “I like this gun,” he said. “It’s pretty isn’t it?” He pointed it at Jerry. “I could blow your fuckin’ head off, asshole.”

            “Sorry boss. They fucked off the night Spider let them stay together at Susanne’s house.”

            “Don’t fuckin’ blame it on him. You guys were supposed to watch them. What the fuck happened?”

            “They set the car on fire. When the cops and firemen came the girls disappeared in the confusion. He didn’t see them go.”

            “How’d they do that?”

            “They poured gasoline over it.”

            “Bitches. How’d you find them?”

            “We traced them to Aspen. That prick from Canada was with Tracy. We grabbed Susanne and convinced Tracy’s mother to get her to come back voluntarily. Asshole here,” he looked at Juan, “wasted the mother.”

            “Sorry boss, I was pissed off with her. Lost my temper.”

            “Stupid fucker. What happened to the prick?”

            “He went back to Canada. He’s called her place a couple of times but that’s all we know.”

            “Watch out, he might come snooping around. Listen, here’s what’s happening. The Feds are watching us. My contact tells me they’ll close us anytime now. We gotta shut down and clear the hell out.”

            The director piped up. “I can finish the picture in the morning. There are only two scenes to shoot. We have the bitches here so it won’t take long.”

            “I don’t give fuck for the movie. We gotta clear out, now.”

            “There’s money in porn boss and besides it helps hide the profits from the other businesses, too. Let me finish.”

            “Okay, finish, tomorrow afternoon we shut down. Jerry will waste the broads. I don’t want them shootin’ their mouths off to the Feds. If the prick turns up waste him, too.”

            Jerry smiled. “That’ll be a pleasure boss.”

            The director had another idea. “Look, if your going to waste them let me shoot the snuff. Japanese collectors pay a fortune to watch American women die, especially when it’s a surprise. The fuckin’ look on their faces is priceless when they realize what’s happening. I can video it while Jerry does them.”   

            The Boss smirked. “Yeh? Okay, I’ll watch, too. Do it slow.”

I had to find out what had happened to Tracy and there was no way I was going to Aspen and talk to the Sergeant Tollery. She was in LA. I Googled her phone number and found the street address. That was easy. The next part was to get there and fast. Butterflies churned my stomach as I phoned for a reservation. I booked the first available flight at 08:35 hours, the next morning, after that I couldn’t sleep and called Karen.

            “Karen, are you okay?” I tried to be calm.

            “I’m fine, how’s your butt? Has the pain gone away?”

            “It’s under control. Look, I know you won’t be happy but I’m worried about Tracy.”

            I told her about my conversation with Sergeant Tollery. Then I told her about my trip to Aspen and what had happened to Susanne. She was silent, very silent.

            “Tracy’s mother is dead. Something is very wrong and Tracy may be in danger.”

            The phone was still silent, then a voice, “What’s that got to do with you? Let the police handle it.”

            “They want me to come to Aspen and give them a statement.”

            “Let them come here and talk to you.”

            “Tracy said she was in danger several times. I’ve got to do something.”

            “Who are you? Sir Galahad? Don’t be stupid, Hilton.” I could feel tension building in her voice.

            “Karen, you know I love you, even if it’s in my own dim-witted way. But I’m going to LA to find her if only to help her grieve her mother. I want you to call me on my cell several times a day until I come back and if I don’t answer to call Sergeant Tollery. Tell him what I told you.”

            “Hilton, you are an ass. You’re going to get into big trouble. I might not be able to get you out. Don’t do it.”

            “Please, Karen, for our years of friendship, just this once.”

            She went along reluctantly with serious doubts about my sanity. Next I told Jack Phillips that he would be in charge of the plant and to call if anything happened he couldn’t handle. I expected Bernice to tell Carol if there was any problem with Cynthia, then I switched on the TV and dozed.

The flight to LAX arrived at 11:04 local time. Sitting so long made my butt hurt again and the drizzly rain dampened my spirit but I had to get to Burbank as quickly as possible. At first I thought of using a taxi but decided to rent a car. The drive to East Cedar Street took about an hour, considering the traffic. I found the house, parked across the street and watched. The busy street helped me to blend into the urban landscape. A black SUV was parked in the driveway. About mid afternoon a man I recognized as Jerry came out of the house. He looked as ugly as he had in Aruba. He started the SUV and backed out of the driveway. I phoned the house but no one answered, so I followed the SUV. It went to a warehouse, through a gate into a building. I couldn’t do much there and decided to go back to the house and look inside. Maybe there was something that would tell me where Tracy was.

            I’m not experienced in break and enter so I had difficulty getting inside but finally managed to open rear window. The drizzly gloom must have shielded me from neighbours because nobody yelled or took a shot. Inside, the kitchen was a mess, take out cartons and empty bottles strewn about. I found the living room but there was nothing of interest there. There was a hall with a door that opened to a bedroom where I nearly tripped over some shoes. I was sure they were Tracy’s. The bed was made but it didn’t look like she had been in it for a while. I poked around the closet and dresser drawers where I found a picture of me and then another with the two of us together in Aruba. A framed 4X6 photo of Mary Jo was on the bed stand beside the telephone.  I got the impression that she hadn’t been here for more than a week, probably since before we were together in Aspen. Maybe she was back in Aspen attending to her mother?

            I called Sergeant Stollery. It was risky but I had to know. He was not very polite, in fact downright hostile, but I promised to see him as soon as I could and he answered my question, “No, she hasn’t come to Aspen. We haven’t been able to locate her.”

            She had to be in LA somewhere. It was getting dark and I drove back to the warehouse to see if she came out after work. I knew it was a long shot. As it became darker the SUV appeared and I followed it to the nearby airport where it went into the private aircraft terminal. I watched for a half hour before the SUV drove out with another man and went to the warehouse. I felt stupid because I wasn’t getting anywhere but a short while later Jerry drove back to the house on East Cedar.

            I decided it was time to talk to him. After he was inside I went to the front door and knocked. A few minutes later I was looking into the barrel of a pistol and a grinning Jerry motioned me inside.

            “We thought you might show up, asshole. This is not your lucky day.”

            “Where’s Tracy. I must see her. Her mother’s dead and she’s got to go to Aspen.”

            He laughed. “That’s a good one. Tracy is with us. You’re going to see her soon enough. Take a good look when you do because it’ll be your last.”

            He made me empty my pockets and frisked me but missed my small cell phone. He used his own cell.

            “The prick is here. Yeh, at the house. I don’t know how he found us. Yeh, I’ll ask.”

            “How did you find this place, asshole?”

            I figured that a lie would be helpful and said the police had told me. My legs were shaking so hard I could hardly stand but the pain in my butt had disappeared. He bought it, I don’t know why.

            “He says he got the address from the cops.”

            The voice on other end of the conversation was loud and ominous.

            “Yeh, I gotcha.” He hung up. “C’mon asshole, this is going to be a long night.”

            He jabbed the gun into my back and pushed me out the door into the SUV. The hole in the barrel looked very big pointing directly at my chest. Karen was proven right once again, I am definitely an ass and in very big trouble.          

Chapter 13

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