The Boy in the Bin

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64) BITING THE DUST

Mark decided it might appear suspicious returning to Manhattan in the early morning hours. One thing could definitely be said about Mark; he took precautions. He left Fred’s body at the front door of his house in the Hampton’s.

His biggest concern became being questioned in the same area as the shooting. There didn’t seem to be much chance of anything happening now because he safely disappeared from the area. He now traveled on I-495 towards the city. In an hour, he would be in Hauppauge where he probably would get a motel room and crash; to avoid any roadblocks that may be placed. When he felt safe, he would head back to his office; free of Fred and any involvement with him.

Marcia dressed for her meeting in a Stella McCartney designer dress, which she recently purchased from Nordstrom. Even though Marcia exuded attractiveness in her own right, this animal print design made her look stunning.

She wanted to be impressive because this meeting involved Mr. Rolland Sandez. The more he peeked at the occasional ‘accidental’ spreading of her legs; the less he would pay attention to the derringer she would be pulling from beneath her armpit.

She called his office earlier in the day and introduced herself as ‘Ginger’, Raul Hernandez’s secretary. Sandez met with Raul often in the law offices, but Marcia hoped he didn’t recall the real secretary. Her game plan wasn’t exotic .

Once Sandez agreed the cache of cocaine in Raul’s law office belonged to him, Marcia would shoot him. To assure Sandez kept no bodyguards in place at the meeting, she would request total privacy for their pow-wow.

“Mr. Sandez,” she clarified. “My only desire is to come to an amicable agreement. I acted as Raul’s personal secretary. Part of I inventoryed office supplies. Raul alerted me to certain ‘products’ being held in our storage room. Now he has passed on, and I will handle most his business dealings. I would like to meet with you in private, to discuss our futures.”

Sandez more or less wrote off getting his product back after his conversation with Fred. In his mind, putting a contract out on Fred only represented payback; payback for not allowing Sandez to pick up his ‘property’ from the law office. This call from Marcia changed everything. Incredibly Ginger offered a chance to recover his lost product.

“Ginger,” Sandez started. “You seem to know many details about my business with Raul. What did you have in mind?”

“I will not discuss anything over the phone,” she demanded. “We can meet here at the law office or we can meet at your office. Either way, I would like to resolve this today.”

Sandez liked the direct, no hustle attitude of this woman. His stash of cocaine still resided in Raul’s office, so he didn’t want to be seen there. Ginger didn’t push anything on him and therefore, he harborred no suspicions of her .

He wanted to make sure he wasn’t being set up. If they met at his office, it would allow him to search her. In an instant, he tried to picture all the ramifications of a renewed business deal.

This might work out better than getting the coke from Raul’s partner, Fred. Maybe I won’t need to expose my operation by killing Fred. To keep a continued relationship of distributing product through a legal office would be great. Having this arrangement protects me from any direct involvement. Maybe this bitch Ginger will work out even better than Raul. Maybe she’s a looker. Maybe something more will come of this.

“I’ll meet you this afternoon, Ginger,” he acknowledged. “I need to warn you of something though. Prior to you getting in to see me, you will be searched for any recording devices or weapons. Make no mistake; I mean searched. I work on many government contracts and therefore I need to take extra precautions.”

“I’ve got no problem with that,” Marcia agreed. “Shall we say 4 o’clock this afternoon?”

Mark arose from the dingy pinkness of his motel room around noon. The pinkness came from every lamp in the room, having pink bulbs installed and every lampshade being covered in a pink-hued plastic. He slept for the last 4 hours, even though the rooms on either side of his constantly belted out carnal sounds. Mark didn’t care; he suffered fatigue and also wanted to kill time before returning home.

He checked into this sleazy motel because of familiarity. Last year, working as a private investigator, he tracked one of his clients and a hooker, to this same location. A garish neon sign shined in the parking lot. Questionable ladies walking in front indicated the place was not only cheap but offered a certain protection from any prying eyes.

I will just take my time today, he thought. I’ll order lunch and get back to my office late this afternoon.

He calculated he would be on the road another 2 hours . From his current location, he would take I-495 to I-298, crossing over into Manhattan. Then he would travel down the FDR Drive until he reached his Midtown office. He anticipated settling into the comfortable surroundings of his home environs.

I believe I will celebrate tonight, he thought, with some Sushi from the Chinese place on 58th Street.

The Blue Ribbon Bar and Grill would allow him to relax and enjoy a few drinks. Because Fred had been taken care of so conveniently, he anticipated no more dark clouds on the horizon.

What might go wrong?

Marcia showed up at her meeting with Sandez, precisely at the appointed time of 4:00 P.M. She allowed herself to be ushered into the anteroom of his office, where two of his bodyguards directed her to take her clothes off. She anticipated someone as egotistical as Sandez would use male guards to frisk her. In response, she showed up without the benefit of wearing any panties.

The guards were in their glory getting an eyeful of Marcia. So much so, they never asked her to raise her arms when she removed her bra. Had they done their job, they would’ve found a small Derringer pistol hidden safely in her armpit. They seemed more interested in squeezing her breasts and running their hands between her legs. Marcia never really got properly frisked .

After being cleared by Sandez’s crack security team, Marcia put her clothes back on. They led her into the main office and she took one of the luxurious leather chairs facing Sandez.

“I don’t believe I remember you from Raul’s office,” Sandez remarked, “and I would positively remember you, Ginger.”

“That’s because I work out of my home,” Marcia responded. “Raul handled the law side of the firm with his partners. I handled the business and investment side. Raul clued me into his arrangement with you and I would like to maintain the status quo. However, I would like to re-negotiate the terms.”

“The terms I negotiated with Raul are pretty fair,” Sandez argued. “My product is dropped off at the office and picked up by one of my associates. For this ‘convenience’, I gave Raul a one-ounce sample of the product. I can imagine no reason to re-negotiate these terms now.”

“You would if I sweetened the deal, wouldn’t you?”

“And how would you sweeten the deal, Ginger?” he questioned.

Marcia reached behind her and unsnapped the latch to her dress. She slowly dropped the top portion, exposing her black bra. She stood up from the leather chair and walked around the desk where Sandez parked his fat ass.

As she approached, she casually let her dress fall to the floor, exposing her lack of underwear. She continued her advance on Sandez until she stood close enough to pull his balding head into her cleavage. As she massaged the back of his head, she reached under her left arm and extracted the Derringer.

Two quick shots to the temple ended the life of Rolland Sandez.

Marcia quickly jumped back into her designer dress. Slipping through the office door, she checked to make sure the bodyguards weren’t alarmed by the sound of the Derringer. The service entrance door offered an escape, instead of using the main lobby. She avoided contact with any other employees. This door led out to 8th Avenue and 57th Street; directly opposite Columbus Circle.

Marcia dashed into the street without even looking, right into the path of Mark Lawrence’s car. The sudden appearance of Marcia bouncing over the hood caused Mark to violently twist the wheel to the right. His car plowed into a set of scaffolds set up to support a crew of window washers.

Fortunately, the work crew hadn’t yet arrived. Unfortunately, the scaffold collapsed, dropping planks, support rails, buckets and assorted tools onto Marks car. One of the planks shattered the front glass of his vehicle and slammed into his throat. Mark died instantly. The remains of the scaffold landed as a two-ton pile of debris on the hood of the car; crushing the life out of Marcia’s body. Within 10 minutes, New York City lost three violent killers.

But Fate still offered more surprises.

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