ANGELS AND GHOSTS
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The Driver

Marco rang, “Hi Teriny; I’ve had a shower!”

“What?”

“That task you set me a while ago, I have all the details.”

“Errr, remind me; which task it was?”

“The hit-and-run.”

“Ohhh, I’ll be down in ten.”

Marco presented the dossier. “Jason George Taranto, forty-nine-year-old lawyer working for Hobson’s in Brocksley. I have his full name and address, plus I’ve listed all his assets including his new car.”

“New car?”

“Yes, the one involved in the accident was a silver 2011 Mercedes Benz sedan, but he traded it in five weeks after it was repaired, and brought a brand new one.”

“You have no doubt it was him?”

“A while back I pulled footage off a CCTV camera from the night in question, and yeah, his car fitted the time-line, and the nature of the damage to his vehicle has him as the prime suspect.”

“And he sold the car?”

“Yes, the date is in the dossier, along with everything else you need to know, although proving that he did it, I mean getting him to admit doing it might be where your problem is.”

“As you’re well aware, I employ the not-so-subtle form of interrogation.”

“I realise that, but this guy is a successful lawyer, so good luck getting an admission out of him.”

“You think I give a fuck who he is?”

“My impression of you is that you don’t give a fuck about anything.” Marco replied wryly.

“Exactly, so leave it with me,” she began, “Anyway flop it out while I go and grab the oil.”

Rachael made an appointment for the next day.

*

Rachael sat in the waiting room, running it through her mind. If this lawyer was responsible for the incident on July the nineteenth, Rachael considered that maybe she should give him a present, because she had received a few unexpected prizes since. Because of the incident, she had met Mia Coombes, and Mia was now a fuck-pal, and she had met Mark Jamieson, and he too was a fuck-pal; but no, if Lawyer-Man was the one, no presents for him. Being an eye-for-an-eye kinda gal, the most appropriate punishment for him would be to take him out to Cribb Highway and run him over, but no, too difficult to orchestrate, too many intangibles and uncertainties in play.

“Miss Terina?”

Rachael looked up, Jason Taranto standing by the door of his office, smiling.

She stood and returned the smile, thinking, Mr Lawyer, I might be just about to wipe that smile off your face …

“Please come in Miss Terina.”

“Thanks, and you can call me Rachael.”

Taranto sat as he asked, “How can I assist you?”

“I’m hoping to make a lot of money.”

“What do you mean; are you looking for somewhere to invest money?”

“No.”

“What then, investing in the property market?”

“No.”

“Tell me what you’re thinking of.”

Rachael leant back in the chair as she stated, “I’m hoping to make a lot of money, and I want it to happen quickly, so I thought that the best way to make a lot of money quickly is to blackmail someone.”

Taranto leant back into his high-backed leather chair and stared at her as he said blandly, “I don’t think I follow you.”

“I have information about someone, and for the purpose of this exercise, let’s just call that person Mr T; and I have information about something naughty that Mr T did, and my proposition is, that in exchange for a sum of money, I will forget about the naughty deed.”

Taranto had stepped on many toes in his twenty-six-year career, and he’d made a few enemies as well, so the direction this meeting seemed to be heading, appeared gloomy. “What has this got to do with me?”

“How’s your new car going?” Rachael asked.

“I beg your pardon?”

Rachael looked at her notes then replied, “How’s the new 2014 black Mercedes Benz, registration number, ACL-4986 going?”

Taranto seemed stumped, so Rachael continued. “You bought it in September last year, and traded in your old silver Benz, registration number, WFY- 3886.”

Silence, Rachael studying him, then she continued. “Ohhh, and you must have had an accident in July last year in the silver Benz, and Corrigan’s Smash Repairs fixed it for you and charged you two thousand, three hundred and fifty-six dollars, which you then claimed through your insurance.”

“Okay,” Taranto said gruffly, “What’s this about?”

Rachael replied confidently, “I already told you, it’s about blackmail.”

He leant forward glaring at her, “What are you saying, you’re trying to blackmail me?”

Rachael nodded, then smiled as she replied, “Yes I am.”

Taranto coughed out a humourless laugh, then said, “Close the door on your way out.”

“What happened to the silver Benz? How come it had a big dent on its front passenger side? It looked like you hit something …” Rachael watched his eyes as she followed up, “Or someone.”

Bingo; the eyes, the expression; guilty as all fuck.

“You can leave now, or else I’ll have you forcibly removed.” he threatened.

“Mr Taranto, or should I call you Mr T? My world view is that life is all about choices, it’s about ticking boxes, ticking box A, B or C, although sometimes, the C box isn’t in play.”

“What are you saying?”

“For what you did on the night of July the nineteenth last year, for what you were involved in, you only had two boxes available; box A was to ring an ambulance, or box B was to take the victim to hospital yourself, but you ticked a box that wasn’t available, you just fucked off and left her for dead.”

Un-nerved, Taranto shook his head. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about!”

“The victim, no thanks to you obviously, but the victim survived, and my role is to financially punish you for slamming into her and then just leaving her for dead.”

“You’re making a very serious allegation here, and if you continue, you may be the one who gets punished!”

“I’ll take my chances,” she snorted, thoroughly convinced now that he was the culprit. “I’ve done a thorough background check on you, and my, you are doing well, aren’t you? A large mansion, an investment property, investments here, there and everywhere, and lots of money in the bank, so here’s the deal; pay me half a million, that’s five hundred thousand dollars, and then you’ll never see me again.”

“Whoever the Hell you are, just get out, and yeah, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll never bother me again.”

“Mr Taranto, Mr T…”

“What?”

“I don’t like repeating myself, so I’ll lay it on the line; you only have two choices here, pay me and then you’ll never see me again, or don’t pay me, and you will see me again.”

He shook his head in amusement. “You think I’m scared of a little blackmailing bitch like you?”

“If you’re not, I would advise you to reconsider your position, because if you don’t pay me, I’ll be coming for you, and you’ll find yourself in a similar situation to the woman you hit.”

He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, so Rachael continued. “You hit her and then left her for dead, and she suffered cranial injuries as well as having to have a plastic hip and a plastic kneecap inserted. So if you don’t pay me, I’ll abduct you, and I’ll take you out to the spot on Cribb Highway where you hit her, and then I’ll cut your left hip out, and I’ll cut your left kneecap out, and then, well I guess if you can hobble your way back home, yeah, more power to you.”

Taranto was steaming, but tried to control his emotions as he said calmly, “Miss Terina, I feel obligated to let you know something …”

“What?”

“In my time in the legal profession, I’ve represented many hardened criminals, and I’m just thinking, hey, why don’t I pay one of them say ten per cent of what you’re asking for, pay them maybe fifty thousand to help me get rid of a minor problem I have.”

Rachael leant forward and glared at him. “Threaten me all you like, but when I leave, I’m going to make myself an appointment for the same time next week, so you better have the money for me, or else.”

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“I already told you; if you don’t pay me, you and me will be going for a little drive along Cribb Highway.”

Rachael stood and prepared to leave, although his voice stopped her.

“Miss Terina, I might just ring up one of my friends from the underworld, so no need to make an appointment for next week, because I’ve got a feeling that you’re not going to make it through to next week.”

She faced him and smiled as she said, “I’m not fussed about the denominations, although the higher the denominations, the smaller the package will be.”

Rachael raced back home and called in to see Marco. “Get me some gear so that I can bug his office and his cell.”

“Who?”

“That lawyer ass-hole.”

“Ohhh, didn’t go well?”

“He threatened me and said that I might not make it through to next week, and yeah, I don’t doubt that a sleazy lawyer would have underworld connections, so I want to stay a step ahead of him.”

“Shit, I don’t like the sound of that!”

“Just relax and rustle up a few listening devices.”

“Does he know where you live?”

“Of course not.”

“Thank goodness.”

*

Later that evening, as Rachael prepared for bed, there was a knock on her door, and she froze.

With the exception of Marco, Mia Coombes and Mark Jamieson, nobody knew where she lived, and with the afternoon’s discussion and threats still ringing in her mind, she tip-toed into the study and turned on her computer. Marco had set her up so that she could view the stairs leading up to her door, as well the door itself. The computer clicked and whirred, a louder knock now.

“Come on, come on.” she pleaded.

She tapped on the keyboard, then heard another forceful series of knocks, followed by a voice, “Terina, open up, I know you’re in there!”

“Shit-fuck …”

“Terina, open up!”

She opened a draw to grab a knife, and her cell rang, startling her.

“Great.” she huffed; the person banging on the door would now definitely know she was there.

“Terina, open the fucking door!” roared the voice.

Fumbling with the cell, she answered.

“Rach, you okay?”

“Hey Marco.” she whispered.

“You okay, there’s a guy at your door!”

The image appeared on her computer, and she shook her head in puzzlement.

“Open the fucking door!” the voice yelled.

“Rach, what’s going on?”

“Ummm, stay on the line will ya; I’m just gunna see what he wants.”

“No, don’t open the door, it could be somebody who’s come over to get you!”

Rachael was puzzled, but she hushed out uncertainly, “I know who it is, but stay on the line.”

Rachael stood by the door, then took a deep breath. “What do you want?”

“Get out here, you’re coming with me!” came the agitated reply.

“No, I don’t think so,” she replied, “I’ve just finished re-loading my gun, so maybe you should just shove off.”

“Fucking slut!” he exclaimed. “Come out, the boss wants to see you!”

Rachael rested back against the wall, her mind in three different kinds of confusion. If he broke in, she would kill him, simple as that; although what price would there be to pay?

With a heaving chest, she asked, “What does he want to see me about?”

“How the fuck would I know!”

“Okay, give me a moment.”

She tip-toed into her bedroom and scrolled through a few numbers, then pressed call. Three rings, then a response, “Hello?”

“Hi Mr Cavello, this is Rachael; did you want to see me about something?”

“Yes I did; Silvanio is on his way over to pick you up.”

“Yeah, well he’s here.”

“Okay, I’ll see you shortly then.”

Rachael sat in the back seat of the car silently, her mind racing, although Silvanio, smirking, wasn’t silent. “So, the little slut has fucked up,” he said as he gazed at her in the rear vision mirror, “What size concrete boots do you wear?”

Rachael was actually nervous, although she didn’t want this prick to know, so she replied, “Size six.”

“Bitch!” he muttered, “If he’s going to kill you, I’m sure he’ll let me mess around with you first!”

No reply, so he followed up, “Or maybe I’ll mess with you when you’re dead!”

*

The strip joint was reasonably busy, plenty of people around which made her feel better, although Silvanio didn’t lead her to the Bosses normal table in the VIP area, he kept walking, through the main area and past the bar, then they pushed though the staff door and walked down a deserted hallway, eventually stopping at a closed door.

“In there slut.”

Rachael walked into the dimly lit room, and saw Cavello drawing back on a large cigar, the smoke puffing out and curling upwards. “Mr Cavello, you wanted to see me?” she asked nervously.

Another drag, the smoke billowing out. “Please sit.”

She sat and asked again, “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes I did.”

He seemed calm and relaxed like usual, so Rachael asked, “What about?”

He studied her for a moment, then said, “I like you Rachael …”

Ohhh shit …

“I enjoy looking at you and I enjoy chatting to you, and our business association is beneficial to both of us; would you agree?”

“Yes, yes,” she replied nervously, “And I like and respect you Mr Cavello, and I would never do anything that I thought would upset you.”

“Hmmm, I’m glad you said that,” he began, drawing back, savouring, then blowing out before he continued. “I was always hoping that your unusual profession would never cross paths with my business dealings.”

“I’m not sure I follow Mr Cavello.”

“Have you threatened anybody lately?”

In this situation, the truth was her only option, and she nodded, “Yes.”

“Ohhh, who?”

“Ummm it was today actually, and he was a lawyer.”

“What’s his name?”

“Jason Taranto.”

Cavello drew back and blew out, then said quietly, “He’s one of mine.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Taranto, he’s one of my lawyers, one of my favourite lawyers.”

Great, how’s my luck, Rachael thought glumly, then she said placidly, “I didn’t realise that.”

“Taranto is what I call a keeper, and by keeper, I mean that I want him looking after my interests. He does whatever I tell him to do, and he is one of my favourite lawyers because he isn’t interested in morals or principles, he just obeys my commands, and even though the legal profession has an unsavoury reputation, it’s not easy finding lawyers who will do whatever you tell them to do without question.” Cavello placed the cigar on the ashtray then folded his hands in front of him as he continued. “So, when I learn that one of my favourite lawyers is being threatened, I think to myself, okay, I better find out what this is about.”

Rachael assumed that it wasn’t quite time to start sucking up, although with self-preservation in mind, it was time to reinforce the parameters of their association. “If I knew he was one of yours Mr Cavello, I would have spoken to you and got your approval before I approached him.”

“Very sensible; why though, why are you threatening him?”

“He was involved in a hit-and-run accident in July last year, and I guess we could say that I was negotiating with him.”

“Negotiating with him?”

Rachael sighed, then said quietly, “I was blackmailing him.”

Studying her, Cavello asked, “Who are you working for?”

“Ohh no, this is a personal issue; I mean it’s a long story, but I was driving along Cribb Highway that night and I saw the body lying by the road, so I took her to the hospital.”

“Very noble of you, but that doesn’t explain why you’re blackmailing him.”

“Well it was him, he hit the woman.”

“Hmmm, so by blackmailing him, you were hoping to pocket the money?”

“No, I was going to give it to the victim.” Rachael replied, then she assumed that she needed to be totally honest, so she added, “I was intending to take a small cut, you know, maybe ten per cent.”

Running it through his mind, Cavello asked, “How do you know he was responsible for the accident?”

“His car was caught on CCTV cameras travelling down Main Street on that night, and it fitted into the time-line.”

“Sure, but plenty of cars travel down Main Street every night.”

“Yes agreed, but his car fitted the timeline, and it also had significant damage to its passenger side, and I also confirmed that Taranto had been in Bassington on that afternoon, and he came back via Cribb Highway. Also, after his car was repaired, he traded it in on the new model.”

“Okay, he’s a fairly wealthy man, so updating cars isn’t a sign of guilt.”

“That’s a good point, although when I met him and studied him, I became convinced that he was responsible.”

“Anyway, his guilt or otherwise is not the purpose of this meeting, the purpose is to tell you that this little episode is finished.”

Rachael drew in a breath then looked straight at him as she said, “If you don’t want me to pursue it, I won’t, but Mr Cavello, he hit a woman and then just drove off and left her for dead, and I don’t want him to get away without being punished in some way.”

Cavello considered, then asked, “How much did you ask him for?”

“Half a million.”

“Big money Rachael.”

“Yes, but the woman was seriously affected by the incident. She had to have a plastic hip and kneecap inserted, and her brain was damaged; I mean she has to see a neurologist twice a week and she suffers massive migraines, and the accident pretty much means that she’ll never be able to work a full-time job anymore.”

“Be that as it may, I believe that the State Roads Authority normally compensate car accident victims.”

“Yes, that’s true, but this is more about him; I mean he left her for dead, and if I hadn’t of come along, well, she wouldn’t be alive today.”

“I did mention that he’s a lawyer, didn’t I, a lawyer whose morals and principles always swing over to what’s best for him.”

“Yes you did, although my wish is that he doesn’t get away without having to pay a price for what he did.”

“What would you say if I said that I don’t want this going any further?”

Rachael grimaced, pondered, then said quietly, “I would respect your request.”

“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear,” he smiled. “Leave it with me and I’ll get back to you shortly.”

Rachael perked up, “You’re going to speak to him?”

“I’ll negotiate with him, although to me, half a million is a bit steep; would you be happy with half of that?”

“Two hundred and fifty thousand?”

“Yes; I’m presuming that your cut would be twenty-five thousand, and I’ll be taking a negotiator’s fee of twenty-five thousand, which leaves the rest for the woman.”

“I’d be happy with that, yes.”

“Okay, I’ll contact you when the deal is done.”

“Thank-you Mr Cavello,” Rachael said as she stood, then before walking away, she looked at him. “Ummm Mr Cavello…”

“What?”

“Silvanio came to my apartment, and I mean I don’t tell anybody where I live, so I’m just wondering how he knew.”

“I was going to ring you, but he said that he knows where you live, and I didn’t give it another thought.”

Rachael didn’t fuck with the local Mafia, and while she didn’t grovel before them, she respected them; although maybe the Boss needed to know something about his right-hand man. She looked straight at him as she said, “He doesn’t like me.”

“Yes, I am aware of that.”

“Could you speak to him and tell him that I don’t ever want him coming to my place again?”

“Rachael, I think of Jason Taranto as part of my extended family, and I think of you as part of that family as well, so none of my people would ever harm you.”

“Thank-you Mr Cavello, hearing you say that means that I should sleep well tonight.”

*

A week later, Rachael went to Mia’s unit and handed her a present.

“What is it?”

“Open it maybe and you’ll find out.”

Mia opened it, then looked at her, shaking her head, “Money?”

“Two hundred thousand!”

“What’s this about?”

“I found out who was responsible for your accident, and I put a little proposition to them.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Mia, Honey, that ass-hole hit you and then fucked off, so I wanted him to pay for what he did.”

“The police haven’t caught the person yet, so I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“I operate in a slightly different way to the cops, and I found out who did it, and then yeah, two hundred big ones for you.”

Mia was stunned, and she mumbled, “The Roads Authority already has a compensation claim in for me.”

“I know, this is just icing on the cake, but of course, you can’t put this in the bank, just hide it somewhere safe, and as well, I hope you don’t mind, but I took a negotiators fee and pocketed twenty-five thousand.”

Still confused, Mia shook her head, then a light shone for her. “You can keep it all if you like, you could use it to buy a place of your own.”

“Jeez, I don’t need it Mia,” Rachael began, “I own my apartment.”

“What, you’re paying off a mortgage?”

“No, I own it outright.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and I also own another apartment in my block which I rent out.”

Mia was baffled. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“Twenty-seven and you own two apartments; did you get an inheritance or something?”

Whoops … Rachael back-pedalled, “Errr, I had a small lottery win a few years ago.”

“How much?”

Rachael faced her and said gruffly, “Do I want to talk about money, or do I want a fuck?”

Mia blushed, then she said meekly, “Knowing you, I think I can guess what the answer is.”

“Good, so my little Jiminy Cricket, take your dress off.”

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