The Tilsons Got Killed

I was amazed and feeling mighty small at the moment.

“Courtney, I had no idea. You are a hero and should be proud.”

“No,” she said and looked at me with love in her eyes. “You are a hero.”

“Shucks, thanks, but you are the hero sitting here at this table, actually. Let me ask you a question. Build stuff or save the world. Which would you prefer?”

“Save the world, of course!” She looked at me as if I was a total idiot.

“Then why fight so hard to save the company?”

“It was my dad’s life’s work. He would want me to.”

“What if he wanted you to be happy and pursue your dreams and your bliss instead?”

And she started to cry again.

“I’m sorry. We promised nothing heavy. Hey! What about those Dodgers?!”

Fortunately, the entrees came.

The rest of the dinner was uneventful and wonderful. I drove her back to Mary’s safe-house condo around 11 pm.

“Want to come in?” she asked.

“Do you think that is wise?”

“I don’t care. You can park in my guest spot.”

I did and we went up.

We walked into a “Hello.”

I grabbed my gun, but standing there in the kitchen was Bill Richmond.

“Did I startle you?” he said, and rushed over to give Courtney a deeply emotional hug.

“I’m sorry honey. I would never want to do that to you. Especially now!”

He released the hug.

“Bill,” I asked. “Why are you here and how did you get in?”

“After everything that has been happening I was worried about Courtney. I thought she’d be alone and might need me for support. I have an ’emergency key,’ we always exchange one, and I used it.”

He showed it to me.

I looked at Courtney. She nodded yes they did.

He looked at Courtney. “You weren’t here so I decided to wait just in case.” I hope that was okay?”

“Oh, Bill. You are so sweet,” and more hugs occurred.

“I helped myself to a drink,” he said.

“I think we could all use one,” and I looked at Courtney, who agreed and went into the kitchen to fix them for the two of us.

We made social chit-chat for a while until I said, “Bill, you seem a bit out of sorts and, I don’t mean to behave like a private dick, but you sound out of sorts.”

He hung his head.

“You’ve got me there.”

And he stood up and went back toward the kitchen to fix himself another drink. A stiff one.

“I didn’t come here because of what happened at the office. I got embarrassed by you being here Brown.”

He looked at Courtney, “I need to make a confession and tell you something.”

He was on the verge of tears.

“Your dad was my best friend. And the day your folks asked me to be your godfather was one of the happiest days of my life. As the company grew, we had great things ahead of us. Not only building things that would last forever, giving us immortality, but the wealth and lifestyle that we had always dreamed about.”

He started to pace around the room with his drink in his hand.

“I never wanted a lot. A nice house, enough money to live on comfortably, a good education for my kids, nice things for your godmother, Linda. You know me, I’m kind of a simple guy. I use my hands. I build things. But as the company grew, your dad starting taking more and more of the money. Not sharing it the way he said he would when we were kids with Higgs, Levine, and me. Yeah, we did well, but Courtney, you know the difference between your family’s lifestyle and ours. It’s not as if we were the poor relations, but we felt as if we were the poor relations.”

He looked at Courtney hoping to get an understanding nod.

“Anyway, a few years ago I was approached by these guys smuggling junk from Asia in I-beams and asked if I wanted in. It was easy and seemed harmless. All we had to do was use a certain broker out of Monterey for materials and she’d order an amount of our I-beams from a specific manufacturer-importer, and they would cut us in for a piece of the action. Not all of our materials, that would seem too obvious, a certain number with each project. A quota. So, I said yes.”

He had finished his drink and went back to the kitchen to pour another as he continued to talk.

“I needed someone in the supply chain. I didn’t bother with Shelley. That boy scout would never do anything like this, but Higgs, that fucking, ass-kissing weasel was always only out for himself, no matter what bullshit he spit out, and I knew with enough cash, he’d sign on. It was painless. We started ordering the I-beams and the money started coming in. Then Shelley, the do-gooder, noticed some kind of blip in the numbers and went to your dad who started sniffing around, and we had to slow down on the purchase orders.”

I was watching him closely as his confession tumbled out. I turned to Courtney who was sitting next to me confused and dumbfounded. I put my hand gently on her shoulder to reassure her that I was there.

“Well, these guys, I think they called themselves the NoHo something.”

“NoHo-16?” I asked.

“Yeah, that’s the guys. Anyway, they got pissed off and started to threaten us including a night where they came to my home and put a gun to my head and forced me to watch three of them taking turns raping Linda anally. When they were done, they said if they had to come back they’d tie me up, make Linda watch as they raped me the same way, and then kill us both.”

“How do you live with that! Your wife raped anally in front of you and you can do absolutely nothing?! She’s never been the same. Verging on catatonic.” He looked at Courtney. “That’s why she wasn’t at the funeral.” He started to cry.

“They wanted to know why things had dried up and I told them. Courtney, you have to believe me, I was desperate. I thought they were only going to talk to your dad. I had no idea this was going to happen. Threaten him to get him to look away. I told them because I didn’t know what else to do. That’s the only reason. I loved you father. I’m the reason your family is dead. I hope that one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I couldn’t love you more if you were my own daughter.”

And he reached under the counter, pulled out a Colt that he had hidden, and blew his brains out.

Chapter 20

Once again I was standing at a shooting site on this case with Ragan, Walker, and the homicide team, but this time Mary Carlson was with us huddling in a corner holding Courtney in a deep, comforting hug.

“What a fucking mess,” said Walker looking at Richmond’s brains scattered all over the kitchen cabinets and counter. The blood had spread all over the kitchen floor. Head wounds bleed. Mary would have to bring in an aftermath cleanup service. After the cops finish an investigation, they don’t clean up anything and they leave the crime scene’s mess to the owners and victims. A lousy thing, but that’s how it’s done.

“So, he was dirty and so was Higgs,” Ragan said.

“Yes.”

“And he specifically said it was NoHo-16?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ve now got no choice, but to bring in gang crimes and they will pull it out of our hands.”

“I figured.”

“We know who your Sgt. Fury is.”

I looked at Ragan.

“Thomas Jamison Delnick, make that Captain Thomas Jamison Delnick. Army Ranger. Five tours in Southeast Asia. Medals up the wazoo. You had it right all along.”

“Good work, Big Guy. Did you happen to find his location too?”

“Demanding SOB aren’t you?” He smiled. “Yeah, seems to own one of those old, ex-Hughes airplane hangars down by El Segundo.”

He looked at me in his “I’m a cop” way. “What are you planning on doing, Downtown? I can see the wheels turning in that head of yours.”

“I’m going to get the fuckers.”

“I didn’t hear that.”

And he took a beat.

“Do you have a plan?”

“I do and it will require your help including SWAT.”

“Off the record?”

“Until I make it code 3.”

“Good luck.”

Chapter 21

It was 102 degrees. So hot that chickens were laying hardboiled eggs, as we moved towards the warehouse. I was feeling bad for the SWAT guys sweating in their armor.

Joining me were Ryker and six of our guys, all stout ex-Army Rangers who he had served with. Good men. Fearless and you could count on them in battle.

We were positioned around one of the former Hughes Aircraft Hangers. Yeah, that Hughes, Howard Hughes. His aircraft business was in southwestern Los Angeles in the area that is now known as Playa del Rey. So many aircraft and military projects were built there including what is now famously known as The Spruce Goose, the largest aircraft ever flown. Even if it was only once.

A few of the original hangers still existed. This was one of them.

We waited, strategically placed until a tactical opening into the warehouse occurred. Finally, an elephant door opened and flatbed carrying I-beams drove out allowing me to sneak in. Leaving Ryker outside with the guys to bust in like the Dirty Dozen, okay the Dirty Seven, when the time came. Using hand signals with him, I snuck inside.

I made it into the shelving covered by the trucks and materials and the noise of the diesel engines.

Looking around, it was so big I thought the other side was in a different time zone.

More than I-beams which were everywhere, there must have been tens of millions of dollars in building materials let alone Southeast Asia heroin and cocaine. The place was packed. A helicopter, a Bell AH-1 Cobra — the Vietnam War helicopter — was way over in one of the corners someplace in the Mountain Time Zone.

I stood there in the shelving listening and observing. Sgt. Fury was there with about six other hard guys all sporting the “Death Before Dishonor” tattoo on various body parts discussing how to move forward with their next shipments.

They had torched open an I-beam and were sampling the product. I watched Fury wet his little finger and, stick it into the heroin, taste it, and then nod approvingly to his crew. It was time to make my presence known.

I stepped out with the Glock in my hand. “Gentlemen, it is over. I know of your scheme, your murders, and your crimes, and so does LAPD who are outside the door. SWAT is waiting to take you down. Let me tell you straight. I hate you motherfuckers, and if you give me the opportunity, I’d love to kill you where you stand, but I thought, even though you don’t deserve it, I’d come in first and offer you a chance to gracefully surrender as the heroes you are supposed to be.”

“Yeah, right! Who do you think you are, Captain America?” Fury said. “You’re in here as a solo avenger. If SWAT was really here, they’d be here, not you. So, no. Fuck you! I want to see you dead, anyway.” Fury spit out, and the shooting began.

I slid behind a stack of shelving taking one of his guys out first. One down, five to go plus Fury.

These guys were pros and deployed around the stacks. I hit the preset SOS on my iPhone to Ryker knowing that he wasn’t far behind as bullets whizzed by having to bounce off a stack of metal shelving to avoid fire.

While doing that, two of Fury’s guys trained their weapons on me, another grabbed me, and pulled me out into the main floor.

Fury looked at me.

“The famous “Downtown Tony Brown.” I’ve been reading about you asshole ever since you threw that pass against my Chargers and hated you for it.”

And he kneed me in the nuts doubling me over in extreme pain.

“I’m going to love watching you die. But hurt you first. You ever gotten high on junk?”

He looked at his guys and said, “Do it slowly,” and handed them a syringe.

Two of them held me as Badass #1 started to work me over starting in the stomach, but then working up my torso to my face.

The guy had done this before. I was guessing standard interrogation to soften them up. He wasn’t seeking for me to confess anything, just beat the crap out of me. He was succeeding. It hurt like a motherfucker.

The other guys were howling and having a great time with it.

I looked at him. “I’m going to take special pleasure in watching you die, asshole.”

He slugged me in the gut.

“Yeah, you and what army?” just as Ryker, our guys and SWAT plowed into the warehouse.

The firefight was over soon. I plugged the slugger in the shoulder first, and then with him on the ground, said, “That army,” and took him out.

Five more dead. Luckily we had Fury by himself, still alive, surrounded by guns.

“Thomas Jamison Delnick, you are under arrest,” said Ragan.”

Fury looked at him and said, “See you in Hell.”

He dropped to the floor as the hidden cyanide capsule he had ingested killed him in a minute.

It was done.

Chapter 22

Over four hours in the warehouse and then another five downtown had finally laid the foundation to the investigation ahead that was guaranteed to take months.

I had met with Mary Carlson and brought her up to speed. She was happy and understood the very large bill she was about to receive.

I kissed her on the mouth tenderly. “It is always a pleasure to work with you counselor. I’m always available for you whatever your needs might be.”

She smiled. “I’ll call you.”

Later that night, I was sitting with Courtney on the couch in the safe house.

“You know, I said. Now that this is all over, what are you going to do? Follow your bliss or run the company?”

She paused for a moment. “I’m young. I’m 25. The way I figure it, I have plenty of time to follow my bliss. I’m going to build our company the way my dad would have wanted it. I owe it to him and my family.”

I understood.

“That way, I can keep a part of them alive.”

I reached up to wipe the small tear away.

“I think that’s a good thing. I know Shelley will help you. He’s a good man.”

She nodded.

“Have you thought about where you’re going to live? You know, now that this is over you are going to have to leave here at some point. You can’t keep paying Mary her exorbitant fees. Where are you going to live?”

She looked at me. “I can’t move home.”

“No, you can’t.”

Courtney looked at me again and put her hand on my leg.

“I was hoping I could live with you.”

“Courtney, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Why not? You are my knight in shining armor, I have no home, and I think I’m in love with you.”

I looked at her and paused. Thinking long and hard for a moment.

“Listen, I’m just a guy that your attorney hired to keep you safe from harm. We had a moment, and it was wonderful and tender, but you don’t love me, you are just transferring. Believe me. I’ve seen this before.”

I took her by the shoulders tenderly.

“You have gone through the worst kind of traumas and emotional shocks that anyone can go through. I know, I’ve seen it many times before. You are going to need help. Post-traumatic stress is in your future. I can guide you to the help you will need, but I can’t provide it. I’m a private dick. You will need a professional. Besides, I’m 10 years older than you.”

“But you’re willing to be my safe harbor.”

“I’ll always be a safe harbor for you when you need it.”

She leaned into me.

“I think you might consider buying your own house. A place where you can start over and make yourself a new home. I’m sure Mary and Shelley can help you with that.”

“Maybe. I’d love to have a dog,” she paused. “We had a golden retriever when I was a kid. Shadow, I loved him.”

“There you go. I can help you with that one. How about a rescue?”

“Yes, that would be good.”

She paused a long time before hesitantly saying, “Would you come over sometime?”

I nodded yes. “Of course, if I was invited.”

“I can’t cook.”

“Hey! Guess what? I can. I’m a great cook,” I bragged. “I’ll make the dinner if your kitchen is nice enough.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“And maybe spend the night on occasion?”

“We’ll see.”

The End