Lethal Knowledge Prologue

Lethal Knowledge

A ‘Simon Says’ Detective Adventure

By

P.J. Lawton

Prologue

Fall, 2005

The heavyset, dark-featured man reached into the trunk of his car and pulled out a Thompson submachine gun. Without saying a word, he brought it up and pulled the trigger, sending a hail of hot burning lead in the direction of the other man. The solid .45 caliber slugs from the ‘Tommy’ gun stitched the other man from left to right, groin to shoulder. The man did a slight jig as the bullets hit him. No blood spattered, no bits of his body flew into the air. He just did his little dance and slowly toppled to the ground.

I grabbed the TV remote control, violently hit the on-off switch and without looking tossed the no longer needed device down on the coffee table. That’s the problem with old movies, I thought, not very realistic. I guess in the old days they didn’t want to shock anyone, no blood and guts. Good clean death. What a crock. I glanced back to the now darkened TV screen and sighed. Now what?

When on a modeling shoot, Sena always kept an early bedtime. I really couldn’t quite manage that. To pass some time while she slept, I decided to watch some TV and settled for an old black and white gangster movie. The only problem was it had been dubbed into the language of this island that sounded like a mixture of Spanish and something else. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it and of course I couldn’t speak the language.

With a grunt, I got up, grabbed a cold beer out of the little room refrigerator and walked out to the veranda. A beer or two might just be the trick for putting me in the mood for some sleep. Sena didn’t know it since she slept like a rock but I hadn’t been sleeping much the last few days, the reason for the late night T.V. To say something was bothering me was an understatement. I really couldn’t put a finger on it but it was there, a nagging sense of dread, a foreboding of an ill wind blowing my way. When those fine hairs on the back of my neck started doing their little dance, trouble wasn’t far behind. Not normally known for a doom and gloom attitude, I learned over the years I really couldn’t ignore this sensation. Tonight the feeling was especially strong. Slipping into a worn but comfortable wicker chair I unscrewed the bottle top and took a long, hard pull. Setting the bottle aside, I gently rubbed my temples. It was decision time. I needed to get a handle on what was going on with me or I would never rest. Yes, time to make a move. I picked up the bottle again and took two more long drinks. As my tired glance danced over the waves loudly crashing onto the darkened beach I tossed the now empty bottle into the nearby trashcan. No matter what, I would tell her tomorrow.

My name is Winston Simon and I’m a private detective. Or least I used to be, some time ago. Oh, I was still Winston Simon all right but I had taken a case since… well, since my office was blown up all those months past by a drug cartel protégé of the Galendez brothers using a high explosive grenade. So, was I still a P.I.? Yes, I still had my license so yes I guess I’m still a P.I. In any case, I made my decision. It was time to get on with my life. Winston Simon, Private Investigator, needed to get back to work.

It was just after daybreak on another wonderful morning in paradise when I took my coffee carafe, fixings, to include that new liquid sweetener, and the morning gazette and wondered out to the veranda. I surely missed my cream and sugar in that first fantastic morning cup, but she was right. Without enough exercise, lately I started to thicken around the middle a little.

Did I say wonderful morning? I hadn’t seen too many wonderful mornings lately.  With the feeling of trouble stronger than ever I was beginning to think I was that cartoon character, you know, the one that walked around with the black cloud and rain right above his head all the time. Maybe I was going nuts? Add all those negative vibes to my recent lack of sleep and—well, old Simon was pretty much falling apart. Of course, I wasn’t getting any younger either. Father Time sometimes drove a hard bargain.

The sun was just peaking over the horizon and the waves were gently unfolding along the vast expanse of unspoiled white sand beach. A short distance down the shoreline, the camera crew was busily setting up for the morning shoot. They always set up early, wanting to get the best early morning light. That meant the models were up early too, well before dawn. I heard Sena get up and get dressed around four o’clock this morning. I only slept for a few minutes during the night so I just turned over, put my head under the pillow and attempted to go back to sleep. It didn’t work. Normally, early morning shoots were way too early for old Simon to be up. Not lately. In any case, the shooting schedule was due to finish up here in a couple of days.

I was dozing in my chair; head down on my chest when the loud blasting of non-muffled engines broke the stillness. With a jerk I sat upright, swinging around to face the blaring noise. I quickly realized the problem. Down the beach two four-wheeled All Terrain Vehicles were weaving frantically in and out of the photo shoot area. The most likely intoxicated ATV drivers were yelling, the models were screaming and the photographers were swearing. So much for a wonderful morning in paradise, I thought.

Initially I figured it wasn’t any of my business and probably wouldn’t have interfered but one of the riders made a mistake. He put his hands on Sena. As the girls tried to pick up their clothes and things, the drivers would race in as close as possible, trying to touch them. One driver swung close by and as Sena turned to help a fallen friend the rider reached out and slapped her hard on her beautiful rear end. That was bad enough, but to make matters worse the force of the blow sent her head first into the sand. I wasn’t having any of that! In a mighty leap, well, for me a mighty leap, I jumped over the two-foot tall porch railing and ran headlong to join the fracas. I didn’t have any idea what I would do once I got there, but I’d figure it out. Actually the solution ended up being pretty simple.

As I neared the set-up area I came up behind one of the ATVs. The driver stopped and was sitting there laughing at the chaos he and his friend caused. I didn’t even have to think about it. Without breaking stride I put both hands together in a double-handed fist and slammed him right between the shoulder blades. He did a flip over the front of the handlebars and landed flat on his back. The landing knocked all the air from his lungs. He wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. 

The second bike rider saw what I did to his friend and with a shout of rage drove right for me. A fast glance around provided me some assistance. To my left sat a rowboat being used in the photo shoot. I grabbed a wooden oar and as the ATV driver neared, wham, I slammed him right across the chest and side of the face with one powerful swing. He flew off the back of the bike landing flat on his butt in the sand. I made ready to hit him again but it wasn’t really necessary. As I watched, his eyes glassed over and he slowly toppled backward. Yep, he was through for the day. A hasty glance around found Sena standing near the first fallen rider holding the second boat oar. Good girl, I thought, my Amazon princess was ready to give him a good whack if needed.  

The whole incident took only about ten minutes. The local police arrived just after my superhero routine and in minutes the still groggy, highly intoxicated men were handcuffed and hauled away. Todd and the girls were very appreciative. Sena just gave me a knowing smile and a wink. That little episode gave me a very large thirst. With a wave and a wink of my own, I turned and headed back to my veranda and cooler of cold beer.

Settling back into the shade, I realized I felt great. That incident and the adrenalin rush it gave me was just what the doctor ordered. I grabbed a beer, took a large drink, closed my eyes and immediately fell asleep.

About an hour or so later the creeping sun over the terrace woke me. Although the sleep had done me some good the euphoria I previously felt had disappeared. The old ‘something is going to happen’ blues had settled back in. I spent a few minutes reflecting on my current situation.

We’d been here for almost two weeks. It was to be a quiet serene vacation for me, not so much for Sena. The daily grind of a professional location photo shoot was always hard on the models. Up early, shooting most of the day, home late. Many times she simply came in, took a shower, and hit the bed. No, no vacation for her, just work and more work. This was the third location shoot I’d been on with her. At first, it was fun, a chance to relax and ease the tension and worry. Now though, the uniqueness had worn off. As of late, I was apprehensive, nervous and bored out of my skull.

The inheritance I received a while back left me never having to work again. But, I was too young or maybe just too ornery to retire. I needed to do something to stay busy, to stay alive. It was time to go home. Sena probably wouldn’t be happy. She worried about me, a little too much I think. Since today was to be a half-day shoot. I would tell her this afternoon during our private beach picnic. No, she wouldn’t be too pleased, but it was time to something with my life.

I sat back, stretched out my legs on the chaise lounger and thought about how things had come to be. During a series of cases I made some deadly enemies in the Galendez Brothers drug cartel. To punish me, they killed my fiancé, Lana Elmore. As she lay dying in his arms, I made her a promise. I would destroy those responsible.

During my quest for vengeance, I met beautiful model, Seneca Rawlings. Some drug dealing gang bangers dressed like Santa Claus clones killed her son. Sena, as she liked to be called, hired me to find those responsible. I made it happen. We met a second time and while I was working for her again, I finished off one of the two remaining Galendez brothers. The final brother’s attempt to finish me almost succeeded in my office apartment grenade explosion. Yes, one by one I took out the Galendez brothers. I promised to make them pay. In the end, pay they did.

 The battle with the Galendez brothers was costly. Eventually I won the battle but was severely injured in the process. During the long agonizing months that followed, Sena often visited me and spent many hours nursing me back to health. Sometime during those extensive pain filled days, I wasn’t sure exactly when, we fell in love. For the past few months, we’ve been traveling from photo shoot to photo shoot. It had been fun at first. Now though, consumed with a nagging sense of anxiety, it wasn’t quite so much fun.

Over the years I developed a sort of sixth sense of pending trouble. The old neck hairs and the little nagging voice didn’t lie. Not always, but several times it had been really strong, jut like now. I suppose the first time it was this prevalent was at the National Private Investigators Convention in Hawaii. A feeling of apprehension hit me just before I received a phone call telling me my Godmother; Judge Judith Smith had been gunned down in judicial parking garage. Then on Christmas day the sensation hit me just before two gang bangers busted into my office and tried to kill me. It was there again, just before a sniper’s bullet killed my fiancé Lana Elmore. And finally, it showed it’s ugly head the day the high explosive grenade blew up my office with me inside. Yeah, when that nasty old feeling turned up, something bad was going to happen, I just didn’t know when and I didn’t know where.

The ultra-warm Caribbean sun beat down on me and I could feel the sweat beginning to run under the band of my well-worn Texas Rangers baseball cap. The afternoon picnic had been a good idea. In fact, I was feeling better than I had in quite some time. With a satisfied sigh I drained the last of my second beer, settled back and placed the empty bottle in the wicker picnic basket. One of the many things I found to my liking on this particular trip was the beer. Yeah, I had always been fond of beer and yeah I was drinking a little too much. Too much beer, not enough exercise, the story of my life, at least lately. I knew I would have to do some serious thinking on lifestyle changing once this little vacation was over, getting a little too old after all.

I glanced up as Sena exited the water and started a slow walk back toward me. God, she was gorgeous. That smallish two-piece swimsuit did little to hide her beauty. Although she was now past what many considered prime modeling days, she still had it. There were few younger models that could hold a candle to her. She had plenty of work, more than she was able to take on. If she chose to remain, she would be around in the modeling business for many years to come.

With a laugh she jogged the last few feet and threw herself down on her outstretched beach towel. She leaned over, dripping cool water down the front of my flowered Hawaiian styled shirt and gave me a light kiss. A second later she settled back and reached for a beer. She chose to ignore my disapproving look. She knew what I was thinking. I did know her pretty well after all. She would be sorry tomorrow. She would later regret having the beer and would have to watch her calories even more to keep her weight down to the acceptable model standards but right now she was thirsty. Twisting off the top, she took a long drink.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her and could think of nothing more exciting than a beautiful woman drinking beer from a bottle.  She took a second sip then turned to me.

“Okay fella, what’s on your mind? You’ve been too quiet all afternoon. Something’s up.”

We hadn’t been together all that long but she had the knack. I might believe that I knew her but she was better, she could read me like an open book.  I reached for a beer of my own, not because I was thirsty, but to give myself time to come up with the proper words.

“Sena, you know how much I love you, right?”

She nodded but said nothing, giving me a chance to finish my thought.

“Well, you also know how much I’ve enjoyed our time together. This has undoubtedly been the happiest time of my life.”

She hit me with her most beautiful smile.

“Well, it’s been weeks. Although I’ve had a great time, all great times must come to an end. Sena, it’s time for me to go home.”

Sena set her bottle down, took my unopened beer and placed it back in the cooler. She dropped the lid back in place then reached over and took my hand.

“I know sweetheart. I’ve known for days that this time was coming. I realize how tough it’s been on you.”

She went silent for a moment then picked up her bottle with her free hand and swung it in a slight sweeping motion toward the sandy beach laid out majestically before us.

“I just felt that you needed to get away for a while, a little sun, a little sand. I can talk to Todd tonight to see if I can finish my layouts tomorrow. It shouldn’t be any problem. He owes me. That way we’ll have a few days together to get you all settled in back home before I have to leave for the next location. Two more location shoots and I’m through for the season. It’s been a long few months. I ready to go home too.”

Todd was the production supervisor for the shoot. He was in total control of everything, from the lighting to the clothes worn by the models and let everyone know. Todd’s word was law.

I gave he hand a squeeze. She was taking this a lot better than I expected. I guess sometimes I didn’t give her enough credit.

 “That’s great babe, I’m not sure why but I really do miss that dirty old city.”

“Do you have anything planned?

I didn’t want her to worry so I skipped the part about lack of sleep and feelings of ill will. I figured a little white lie couldn’t hurt.

“No, not really. I’ll just contact a few folks, T.J., and Willis, and let them know I’m back. I’m in no hurry. Something should come along.”

Sena got up and started collect the picnic items. “Okay, lets head on back. I’ll give Todd a call to set up a meeting for tonight.”

We quickly picked up the equipment.  I took the picnic basket and blanket and she carried the small ice chest cooler. Hand in hand we started the almost one half mile walk back to the car. It would take about thirty minutes to drive back around the island from our secluded east side beach to the grand hotel. We would have time to talk over our plans on the drive.

Fifty-five minutes later, as we entered their beachfront suite, the phone rang. I motioned for her to head for the shower and flopped down on the bed. Stretching out I pulled the receiver to my ear and spoke.

“Sena and Simon’s room.”

“Hello Sherlock.”

“T.J.? You old dog. What’s going on big guy?”

T.J. was Thomas James, my former police officer partner and still my best friend. I am also Godfather to T.J.’s twin boy and girl. With a laugh I said, “I was just thinking of calling you.”

“Simon, I’ve been trying to get you all day.”

Something in T.J.’s tone immediately got my attention. Here we go, I thought, Murphy’s Law. If something can go wrong, it surely will. My neck hairs were doing a Salsa dance now. I attempted to keep my tone light. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t trouble after all.                                                                                                                                    “Sorry guy,” I said, “I was out most of the morning and Sena and I were on the other side of the island this afternoon. I didn’t take my cell. What’s up?”

T.J. paused for a moment then continued.

 “Sherlock, we’ve got a problem.” A heartbeat or two later, “Simon, its Jacki.”

Jacki is my daughter from my first and only marriage. That marriage ended while I was in the desert, fighting in what is now known as ‘Desert Storm’. My wife Tracy decided she didn’t want to be married anymore, at least not to me. She sold everything and moved to Las Vegas for a quickie divorce. She and Jacki lived there ever since.  

A major sense of trepidation and also a feeling of de-ja vu settled over me. I took a deep breath and with feigned calmness said, “Okay big guy, tell me.”