The Three Monkeys, a Carter A. Johnson & Kate Menke Thriller Read online

  Carter dragged the comatose man behind the row of shrubs and quickly secured his hands and feet with cable ties. Duct tape covered his mouth. Carter pocketed the guard's radio before tossing the H&K rifle through the fence opening. They would add it to their substantial arsenal. He checked his surroundings for movement; there were no visible signs he'd been discovered.

  At a fast trot, he ran toward the imposing residence and met Kate outside Micovich's office. The fact that she was there attested to her success in neutralizing her assigned guard. Since he'd not heard a disturbance, he surmised it had gone as planned and her target was either subdued or dead. They stood silently in the shadows of mature evergreen plantings. Their mission had been discussed multiple times and both anticipated the next action.

  As Carter drew the 9mm from the thigh holster, his phone vibrated at his hip. He ignored the distraction until it stopped. Immediately, it vibrated again; he ignored it. The mission was almost complete; he could talk later. He aimed through the window at the criminal leader who made millions of dollars importing children for sexual perverts and pedophiles. The phone demanded attention as it vibrated impatiently again. Only Harrison and Kate had the number of his work phone.

  Carter motioned to Kate; they stepped aside into the deep shadows of the tallest shrubbery. He answered curtly, "What?"

  Harrison immediately replied, "I'm having a cantaloupe; you should stop what you are doing and have one, too." Carter glanced at Kate with a confused face as he pondered Harrison's cryptic message. He despised the heavy, yucky taste of cantaloupe and Harrison knew that.

  Frustration dominated his thoughts, then his expression went slack. "Shit!" He muttered viler curse words as he turned to Kate and whispered, "Something's up. Disengage, we've been compromised."

  They doggedly retreated, intent on leaving the area and the state as originally planned. Twenty feet from the house, Carter stopped Kate to whisper, "This is bullshit; we're too close to abandon Micovich now. I'm going to finish this before we leave. Keep watch." He turned and scurried back to the window. Kate followed and covered his back, observing the area in case more guards responded. She removed her confiscated MP5 from her shoulder and held it at the ready position.

  Micovich sat with his back to the window talking on the landline. His sock-covered feet rested on an ornate mahogany desk. His arms moved in time with his speech, emphasizing points he made to the person he spoke with.

  Carter tapped the silencer against the glass twice, then again causing the target to straighten and search for the unexpected, annoying clicks. Micovich held the phone away from his ear and swiveled his body side to side, then cocked his head slightly to the left and listened intently for the subtle, out-of-place tapping to repeat. Two more forceful taps pinpointed the source of the intruding noise. His chair spun in a half-circle toward the window. His eyes opened wide as he grasped the danger. Before he could evade his death sentence, two hollow-point bullets crashed through the double-pane glass, entered his forehead, and peeled off into fragments. Blood droplets splattered the desk behind him, and the pervert gradually slid from the leather chair without voicing a sound.

  They jogged toward their exit in the fence as Carter said, "Now I can sleep in peace; a well-deserved dose of justice has been served." Kate smiled as she nodded her agreement.

  Four days later, Carter and Kate helicoptered in under tight security to meet with Harrison J. Withers at a private, rustic lodge high up a mountain range in northwestern Montana. Winter controlled the low temperature at the high elevations, and abundant snowfall softened the harsh landscape. The only access road to the lodge was snowed shut and would remain closed ‘til mid-June after the springtime thaw.

  Kate leaned close to Carter and spoke loudly over the noise of the turbine engine. "It's always thrilling to fly over such pristine mountainous country in the dead of winter. It is such a beautiful but desolate and dangerous place."

  "And it's almost impossible to cross by any other mechanical method," he added before coughing.

  Snow-covered spruce forest filled the valleys and up near the ridges of lesser peaks.

  As the aircraft approached a circle of plowed landing area, a red and yellow snowcat stopped a hundred yards away. The pilot cautiously felt his way down through the thick swirling cloud of snowflakes stirred by the downdraft from the chopper's blades. With a lurch, the chopper's skid bars settled on the packed landing area, the blades slowed, and the turbine's whine died away to silence.

  As the rotor blades came to a complete stop, Carter and Kate stepped from the cabin with their gear. They stared at the magnificent two-story rustic lodge complex several hundred yards away as the snowcat approached to convey them to the warmth of their destination. Mountain peaks jutted upward framing the weathered lodge in black and white splendor.

  Harrison waved from the front porch that extended across the structure's main portion before he retreated inside to the warmth radiating from multiple fireplaces. Smoke and heat waves rose from three towering chimneys to dissipate in the sub-freezing temperature. Carter sniffled and hugged his heavy coat with both arms in an attempt to stay warm.

  After leaving their arctic outerwear with their luggage in their assigned bedroom, they received a tour of the elegantly appointed grand lodge. The floor, walls and ceiling were naturally finished wood. Kate was enthralled with the furnishings when she wasn't frozen in front of windows taking in the spectacular views of the awesome snow-covered crags and outcroppings marring the mountain's majestic rise. Harrison promised them breathtaking ski runs to the bottom of several valleys where the helicopter would airlift them up the mountains for the next run down a different slope.

  Strong, hot coffees were passed around before the three friends settled into upholstered seating in front of a massive, gray, native stone fireplace. The fire popped and cracked as orange and blue flames danced across the three-foot-long split logs.

  Kate took in Harrison's relaxed attire: casual oxblood loafers, Levi's and a red and black plaid flannel shirt under a heavy, black, cloth vest. She had never seen him dressed down before. He appeared relaxed, but she noted a stiffness in his posture and behind his smiling expression.

  Harrison exhaled deeply, then began the explanation they'd been invited to hear. "Nine months ago, the son of a retired judge gained access to our group through his father's sponsorship. I wasn't comfortable with the information on the son's application; I felt it was too vague and requested a deeper audit. I was overruled by the vetting committee and the son was soon accepted. It was a fatal mistake on their part." Harrison stopped speaking as an elderly man approached. "This is Henry, our fulltime caretaker. He and his wife, Ethel, take excellent care of the premise and our guests."

  The gray-haired but fit-looking man in his early sixties nodded then spent several minutes placing several logs on the fire before he refilled their thick mugs.

  When they were again alone, Harrison continued. "The vetting group was obviously influenced heavily by the father's long-term support and dedication to the group. He was one of the original founding members. Several months later, one of our members, who is in middle management with the FBI, learned the son approached the agency with claims his father was involved in vigilante actions. He wanted his father and the unnamed organization stopped and prosecuted.

  "Another higher ensconced member of our group followed up with a more senior department head of the FBI and received confirmation the same evening I called you. He assured me the group was compromised and my name had surfaced as the primary field contact. Due to the structure of our organization and the son's short involvement, he could only name me and two others on his entry level. I digress. That was when I contacted you to abandon the case you and Kate were so close to finalizing." Harrison looked over his spectacles at Carter, then to Kate. "It appears the information came through a bit too late to disengage before the final solution was carried out. At least that was what my last report indicated." He smirked knowingly.
/>   Carter turned to Kate and winked, then coughed shallowly into his arm pit twice.

  "The judge immediately denounced his son and cut off all ties with him; he even changed his will to disinherit the turncoat. But the damage to the organization was done and is irrevocable. The judge apologized profusely to the other original organizers, but he too has been removed from all ties to us. I truly feel sorry for my geriatric friend. He not only was betrayed by a son he trusted, but he now feels personally responsible for destroying an organization he believed in with his heart and soul. He's a broken man. I fear the betrayal may affect his overall mental and physical health and shorten his life. I've known him personally for at least thirty years and feel for him." Harrison shifted in his chair and stared at the flickering flames before continuing.

  "I expect to be approached by FBI agents soon during their investigation, but I'm not overly concerned. From the inception of our group, we've covered our tracks well in anticipation of such an unlikely event."

  Kate stopped Harrison. "Is there any chance the group will reorganize again in the near future, or is the shutdown final and permanent?"

  "At this point it is permanent, but that could change in time if the FBI closes the investigation and writes the complaint off as unsubstantiated. Of course, that could take several years. And even with their closure, we would wait a substantial amount of time before reorganizing. Finding the appropriate personnel with the training, mindset and wealth required to regroup would be daunting and could take several years even after reorganization is felt safe.” He sighed and paused. “By then I will likely not be able to assume my past position. I am eternally grateful we learned of the betrayal in time to shut down all activities before the group was further compromised. The results could have been much worse. Without knowledge of the informant's betrayal, he could have become a mole for the FBI and infiltrated the group deeply over several years’ time."

  Harrison glanced at his wristwatch. "Lunch is likely ready. Let's go to the dining room and see what we are blessed with this afternoon. Ethel spoke this morning of serving her version of a Greek type salad along with buffalo burgers in wine sauce perched over a blend of sautéed veggies and brown rice." Harrison grinned and patted his stomach. "For breakfast I was allowed spiced coffee and a sample of the apple crisp dessert she's serving."

  Carter listened half-heartedly to the light banter between Kate and Harrison as they ate while part of his mind wandered to his and Kate's future. What the hell will we do now? The vigilante organization wasn't just a job, it was a vocation, something we believed in and were good at. Kate has a college degree in business management, but she hasn't used it for almost twenty years. And me: I was a Marine sniper, then an LA cop/detective, and finally a vigilante investigator/hit man. Neither of us has an impressive résumé for typical civilian jobs.

  While working for Harrison, I've accumulated more than a million dollars in my offshore account, and I know Kate's net worth is far greater than that. Now what do we apply our resources to? I can't afford to retire; there's no way I could live on forty to sixty thousand or thereabouts dollars a year from interest on my principal money amount. Besides that, I'd be bored to death without something meaningful to do. Unfortunately, all my skills are law enforcement related; how do I apply those to a civilian job? Truthfully, I don't want to work for one of the large investigative firms that hire hundreds of ex-law enforcement personnel. I'm used to running my own show and making decisions based on the facts I gather. The micromanagement and inefficiencies found in large organizations would drive me nuts. At some point soon, I'll be forced into a decision. But at the moment, I'm at a loss as to what way to turn. All thanks to that judge's damn'd ultraliberal son. It's hard to fathom how he could turn on his own father without first speaking to him and pleading with him to stop the group's actions.

  As a Marine sniper, Carter received full authority to take out the bad guys when he found them. As a Los Angeles cop and detective, he was sickened by the ultraliberal court system that often allowed heinous killers go free because of legal mumbo jumbo technicalities. That was when he began tracking a few of the worst serial pedophiles and rapists on his own and stopping them the only way he knew how. But the vigilante organization had been the end-all answer for him. Operating in complete obscurity allowed them to gather evidence and walk away, turn evidence over to the authorities or assassinate the rotten bastards they'd judged and convicted.

  The trio returned to the main lounge and the warmth radiating from the huge fireplace. Kate snuggled close to Carter on an upholstered couch while Harrison poured their drinks. Carter asked for his standard Wild Turkey bourbon on the rocks while Kate and Harrison opted to share an Australian Pinot Grigio. Carter was nearly recovered from the common cold he'd been fighting since getting soaked and chilled on their final mission.

  Harrison sat across from the couple. "Now some good news for the two of you. As you may have suspected, our group operated with a large reserve of funds as was appropriate for the operations we supported. With monies recovered from accounts belonging to our criminal targets added to funds donated by our wealthy members, there was over fifteen million dollars at the time we ceased operations. Each of you, as well as our third field investigator, will benefit from two and a half million dollars deposited to your offshore accounts. Those transfers will be completed before the week is out. Other support personnel will be similarly rewarded with bonuses for the work they did to support your field operations. Each of you has earned every cent of it, and I only wish there were more to give you a start on whatever you plan to do next." Harrison stopped to look at them quizzically. "I see blank expressions. Do you not have a plan in mind?"

  Carter shook his head dejectedly as Kate glanced at him. She turned to Harrison. "We have no idea what we’ll do next. Last week's surprise announcement dominated our thoughts and we have not moved to develop a definite future plan yet. We have broached a few career choices but only in the most cursory terms." She shrugged her shoulders and threw him a confused expression.

  Harrison hesitated…"Might I suggest a field I believe the pair of you would excel at? You each have superb qualifications for it," He slowly offered, "Why not explore becoming legitimate private detectives? You have plenty of money to open your own agency anywhere in the country. As the sports jocks like to say, you would be in control of your own destiny."

  Carter pulled Kate close. "We've touched briefly on some form of investigative work but hadn't seriously considered being sole proprietors in our own business. That's a good suggestion; we'll look into it."

  Kate turned to him. "Yes, that sounds interesting. I like the idea of the independence our own agency would allow us to have. We also have enough funding between us for it to be a top tier firm right from the beginning."

  "Good decision," Harrison praised. "Now let's dress for skiing and hit the slopes for a few hours."

  Chapter Two

  Four months after the skiing trip, Carter and Kate prepared to open a detective agency in St. Louis, Missouri. They chose the area because it was close to Kate's mother in Kansas City, but not too close. Her mother, Ester Pennington, was already pining to drive over for routine visits.

  The couple purchased a building in an established area west of downtown St. Louis near the Italian Hill section and gutted it before starting major renovations. The five-thousand-square-foot first floor was almost finished and would become their business space with enough room for future expansion. The second story was being converted into their ultra-luxurious apartment. Kate took the lead on directing the completion of their living quarters. She told Carter, "The only missing amenity will be a great view to complement the exquisite interior I plan to create. It will be a delicious setting we can relax in or make love in." Carter grinned salaciously as he contemplated the last portion of her statement.

  On a busy workday, Carter commented, "Our construction manager says the painting and cleanup of the lower level will be complete by the end
of Friday's workday."

  A painter passed them with a paint bucket and entered Kate's future office. Noise from drywall installers on the second floor caused her to pause for a break in the staccato thumping before replying to Carter. She cocked her head toward him. "She also mentioned the work would have finished two weeks ago if you had not kept making changes to the original plan throughout the job."

  He grinned sheepishly. "Well, the changes I suggested were necessary; it's nearly done and it looks great. The colors you chose give the whole office a professional look. When did you say the office furniture and other stuff will be delivered?"

  Kate removed a small notebook from her shirt pocket. "Next Tuesday for office furniture. Keith, the electronics guy, brings the computers, printers, etc. and the communications equipment he provides on Wednesday. He plans to finish installation and testing Thursday. The iris scan security system is being installed Thursday and Friday. Decorating amenities begin to arrive Thursday morning." She stepped close to Carter and got his attention. "You need to plan to be around to open boxes and assist a carpenter in hanging items on the walls. Sticky notes will be posted showing where everything is to be placed. I also intend to be here to help if you have questions." Carter listened as he watched an Audi convertible parallel park at the curb in front of the office.

  At one minute before ten, the doorbell for the front entrance rang a muted, classical tune. A leggy, elegantly attired lady waited in the alcove at the entrance. Carter thought she appeared to be in her late twenties to early thirties but knew better.

  "That must be Deline Durand." Kate hesitated momentarily then moved toward the double doors to welcome the receptionist/office manager applicant. In addition to Ms. Durand’s submitted resume, Kate and Carter had performed an internet search of the applicant's history prior to scheduling the interview. Both were reluctant to even meet with her because she was so obviously overqualified. They were stunned that a person with a law degree from Harvard University would apply for the position they advertised or that she would be adamant in requesting an interview despite their reluctance.