Witness Protection

By Sandy Paull

Detective Lawrence Stone thinks highly of his gut feel ‒ and it's telling him that the magician, Romond the Magnificent, is a thief.

But no-one believes his theory, not even his own partner, Detective Trevor Stewart. 

Stone needs evidence to make an arrest, and unsuspecting Krysta Nevvar could hold the key to more than she realises. 
Exposing Romond, and foiling the plans of his sinister accomplice, are two things Stone is hell-bent on doing, but he can't do it without first conjuring up an illusion of his own to ensure the protection of his key witness.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandy Paull
• Release date: Jul 7, 2016
• ISBN: 9780994227843

Book preview

cover.jpg

Copyright © 2016 by Sandy Paull.

www.sandypaull.com

National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry (ebook)

Creator: Paull, Sandy, author.

Title: Witness protection / Sandy Paull.

ISBN: 9780994227850 (ebook)

Subjects: Witnesses–Protection–Fiction.

Detective and mystery stories.

Dewey Number: A823.4

Publishing Consultant: Linda Diggle – www.bookboffin.com

Editor: Paul Vander Loos – www.about.me/Paul.Vanderloos

Internal Layout and Formatting: www.authorsecret.com

Cover Design: www.studio1design.com

Other titles by Sandy Paull:

Clouds of Grey (2014)

In The Dead Of Night (2015)

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the Australian Copyright Act 1968 (for example, a fair dealing for the purposes of study, research, criticism or review), no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, communicated or transmitted in any form or by means without written permission. All inquiries should be made to the publisher.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

A big thank you to my husband, and all my friends and family who have played a part in helping bring this book to life. I couldn’t have done the editing or brainstorming without your guidance, patience, encouragement and understanding.

Thank you Kristine Maiorana. I will always hear your voice.

A special thank you to Linda Diggle who continues to amaze me with her intuitiveness and easy going nature. You take the worry out of publishing, Linda. So thankful we found you.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

PROLOGUE

She’s going to jump!

A woman screamed from an open window and co-workers rushed to her side. Several gasped. One pointed, Oh my God, there’s a boy on the ledge below her! More people gathered at the window several storeys above the noisy street.

Krysta climbed over the parapet of the Victorian sandstone building and wished the woman across the way would shut up. She needed to concentrate. She had never gone down from any height without a rope and was tense enough with the storm brewing overhead. Her fingers curled into the rough exterior and her foot found an ornamental keystone on her way to the narrow ledge below. Cars pulled over at street level and a crowd formed. Word seemed to be travelling fast.

The storm had blown in while their group of deaf students were being guided through the old theatre. It seemed the wide arcaded balconies and the hidden trap door centre stage hadn’t kept Sam’s attention. His fascination for tumultuous weather had always been a problem and Krysta hadn’t realised he was missing until the students were standing on the marble staircase looking up at the vaulted ceilings. Her fellow teacher and friend, Sarah, had taken charge of the other students while she had rushed off to find him. A person milling around backstage had informed her that a boy was seen strolling along the hallway and as this particular hallway led to the rooftop, Krysta was more than worried. She had taken the stairs two at a time and emerged through the exit door breathless, but Sam was nowhere in sight. She had heard a sound and as she peered over the balustrade she saw Sam on a narrow ledge, clinging to a mounted statue on the corner. Somehow she had to get his attention.

Onlookers were shouting for her to stay put and that help was on the way. But Krysta couldn’t leave Sam where he was. She dropped the last few feet with a purposeful thud. Sam spun around weeping, his face streaked with dirt and tears, his knees bleeding. He jiggled his fingers towards the darkening sky. She cast a nervous glance and groaned at the ominous black clouds rolling above. The sound of rumbling made her insides quake. She shuffled along and wondered if her day could possibly get any worse. She braced her body against the wall and, using her skills in sign, she indicated to Sam that the clouds were untouchable. He grunted a response and continued to point upwards. She glanced to the ground below and shuddered. Police and fire crews were rushing about. The boy followed her gaze and wildly shook his head. He turned his back and screamed incoherently into the wind.

Krysta swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew him well. They’d had many altercations during her time at the school but this situation was unlike any they had shared and one he may not fully comprehend.

She stepped forward, careful not to startle him, and as her hand almost settled on his arm, he hastily recoiled. Her gasp echoed as his foot slipped. He slammed his knee and scraped his thigh against the concrete cornice. His other foot followed and one hand slipped under his weight while the other thrashed helplessly as he swung in mid-air. Sam’s eyes were wide. Onlookers wailed. Krysta dived towards him and caught hold of a skinny little wrist just as his fingers gave way. She half sobbed, I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.

Krysta hauled his shaking body up and collapsed against the wall, hugging him tight and kissing his forehead. She panted for breath and her heart ached with the thought of what could have happened.

She heard her name called and looked up to see two firemen leaning over the edge.

Are you okay? I’m coming to get you.

Yes, we’re fine. I don’t like the look of this storm. Can you hurry, please?

She brushed the moisture from Sam’s face and waited for the fireman to put on his harness and lower a rope. The wind seemed to strengthen, buffeting their bodies against the exterior of the building. The blackening sky put shivers through her and spits of rain fell as the fireman scaled the façade.

Krysta cautioned him, The boy is deaf. He could frighten easily.

I have to put a harness on him.

Let me talk to him first. She held eye contact with Sam and he watched her lips as she told him what was to happen. The boy eyed the fireman guardedly and allowed the harness to be placed around him.

Applause echoed across the way when Sam was hoisted up. Krysta hugged the wall but when Sam realised she wasn’t coming with him he kicked his feet furiously. She raised her arms to protect her face. Lightning brightened the sky and the rain intensified like shards of ice pelting against her flesh. She barely made the count to four before the crash of thunder reverberated through the building. She screamed and cowered. Sam’s shoe connected with her arm and threw her off balance.

Fear etched into the fireman’s features and as gravity took hold, Krysta flailed helplessly. Screams were heard but they weren’t hers. She gasped and realised her day was coming to a close.

CHAPTER 1

One year later

Detective Lawrence Stone raised his gun and edged his way around the shop front. His adrenaline was rushing. He signalled for his partner to stay put. Stewart acknowledged with a nod.

Stone hadn’t wanted to venture out again tonight, but when Stewart called to report the sighting of a man slinking through a quiet part of town carrying cylinders and a slimline case, he could picture ‘Romond the Magnificent’ adding to his collection of stolen paintings. No-one believed his theory about this magician being responsible for making valuable artwork disappear but Stone knew he was right. The figures didn’t lie. Crime rates increased wherever Romond was performing and with his three-month contract ending next week, time was running out to catch him red-handed.

He turned the handle slowly and the door opened freely. He peered inside and darted across to the other side of the doorway to scan the room from a different angle. This was too easy. His palms were clammy. He gestured for Stewart to come forward. They stood ready, then silently counted to three and burst into the room, separating immediately and staying low to the ground with their weapons raised and searching. Light streamed in from outside and highlighted the dust particles falling like mist towards the draped white sheets. He lifted a corner and saw frayed upholstery on a stained tapestry chair. He frowned and studied the floor. His shoeprints were visible behind him but there was nothing in front. He shoved his gun back in its holster and produced a small torch from inside his jacket. He shone it slowly about and promptly cursed out loud, The bastard has done it again!

Stewart stood and sneezed. I think you’re right. This place is nothing but a flaming dustbin. He sneezed in quick succession. How anyone could stand being in here is beyond me. He rubbed his nose and stifled another eruption.

Stone studied his surroundings. This place is musty as hell. I think we can safely assume that unless Romond can levitate, we’re the only ones to have set foot in here since Adam was a boy. There are no other footprints except ours. He walked around the perimeter and lifted up another sheet. This place is full of old furniture. There’s nothing on the walls, he stooped low, and no crates lying about. I don’t see anything at all that could hold a collection of paintings, rolled up or otherwise.

So it’s another dead-end.

Stone cast a beam of light towards the back door. It was bolted in two places ‒ one at waist height and the other at head height. Who called it in? Did they actually see Romond enter this building, or are they just jerking my chain?

Stewart pouted his bottom lip and moved it from side to side. Not sure. It was an anonymous caller.

What? Stone shone the light in Stewart’s face. I thought you said it was from one of your informants?

Steady on. Do you want to blind me? He turned and walked away.

Don’t walk away from me. What’s going on with you?

Nothing. I must have gotten my wires crossed. We’ve had so many false leads lately I can’t remember who is saying what.

And that’s my point. Too many false leads. Stone shook his head. I’m sick of being fucked around. He went to leave and halted at the door. The locking system appears new so why wasn’t the building secured?

I don’t know; carelessness on the owner’s part? I’ll find out who pays the rates and tell them to pick up their game. He pressed the lock. Out you go. There’s no point hanging around. Whoever was here is long gone.

I’m wondering if there is any point to a lot of this lately.

You’re just tired. Go home and get some sleep.

I suppose you’ll be telling your wife this was my fault making you work all hours of the night?

Stewart smirked and pulled the door shut, Of course, but I wouldn’t let it bother you. She’s always pissed off with me, especially when I wake her in the middle of the night to rendezvous with you. He snorted, As if I’d be lucky to get a romp in the sack at that hour. He glanced around the neighbourhood. If you ask me, the sooner Romond leaves town the better it will be for everyone.

Stone gripped his car keys. I don’t want Romond leaving town. I want to nail that son-of-a-bitch before his last show next week. My guess is he will either want to sell his stash or ship them off somewhere. I know I’m making him nervous and somewhere along the line he’s going to make a mistake… a big one and he’s not going to like the final curtain call.

Stewart gave his partner a friendly slap on the back. A lot of us think you’re spinning your wheels over this one but if it keeps your mind working then I’m not going to discourage you.

I also think he has an accomplice.

A magician with an assistant, who’d have thought? And what gave you that impression?

Too many wealthy residences have been robbed in this city for him to just stumble upon these addresses by accident and on his lonesome. Someone has to be giving him information, someone who knows the city and who’s who.

I think you’re clutching at straws, Lawrence. That’s too organised. Romond is a magician who spends three months or thereabouts performing in different cities around the country. Are you trying to suggest that someone in each of these towns rings him up and asks if he would do some light pilfering?

More or less.

Like who? And what about navigating alarm systems, etcetera? Is he a master at that now?

I’m not sure how they’re going about it but his name could be passed on to those who feel the need to make a percentage off his takings. I’ve checked the stats, crime rate rises when Romond’s in town.

Stewart laughed outright, I’m not sure where you get these crazy ideas from but that could be a hard thing to prove in seven days.

Laugh all you want, Trevor, but I’m going to prove my theory.

I’m sure if you put your mind to it you will come up with something.

Stone pinched the bridge of his nose. If I wasn’t so tired I’d go and rap on his hotel door right now and give him the third degree. He won’t be expecting me at this hour.

And you could get another warning for harassing him too. Why don’t you do everyone a favour and go home. Forget Romond. I mean, it’s good to see you back in the saddle after all this time but your gut instinct can’t be right all the time.

It’s churning over something, Stewart.

Then maybe you should get it checked for an ulcer. Look, buddy, you’re the best partner I’ve ever had and I don’t want to see you have a meltdown, and I certainly don’t want to train up another partner, but you’ve got to put this thieving magician idea behind you. It’s driving me crazy.

You could always make it easier and get your mind on the job. You know I’m onto something so why are you fighting it?

Because everybody loves this bloke.

But what if I’m right about him? You know my track record for sniffing out the bad guys. Don’t you want to be on the winning side?

Stewart rubbed his balding head. Fine. I’ll start taking this Romond thing seriously but after next week you’re on your own.

Gee, thanks for getting my back on this one. Is your arm okay? I didn’t twist it too much, did I?

Yeah, you did actually. You’re a stubborn son-of-a-bitch and if I don’t hurry up and join you, you’re bound to make my life more unbearable. He managed a chuckle. We’re partners ‘til the day we aren’t and you mean a lot to me. Have I told you that lately?

Twice last week and the week before. Are you thinking of retracting it?

Hell no. Just letting you know I wouldn’t be here without you and that you’re a joy to be around.

Now you’re being facetious and really weird.

I can handle weird. Stewart sneezed three more times as he walked towards his car. See you in a few hours.

He’s going to make a mistake, Stewart, Stone yelled.

Sure he is and you’ll be there to get him.

Stone set off in the opposite direction and cast his thoughts to the front door of the old furniture shop. He didn’t like it when things were too easy and with no evidence to suggest an attempted break-in or theft, he could only assume it was a set-up. But for what purpose… to solely piss him off? This place was a dust haven with furniture that wasn’t worth stealing. It didn’t make sense. And nor did Stewart.

They had been partners for four years and when Stone’s wife, Mandy, had been tragically killed in a bombing incident eighteen months earlier, Stewart had been there for him. He had even taken him off to counselling sessions when the drinking had become a serious problem. But now that Stone was back on track, Stewart seemed different, alternating his attitude between that of a man who couldn’t give a fuck about anything and one who felt he was above the law. It was all very unsettling.

Stone sat in his vehicle and went over the conversation he had with Stewart about Romond and one question played on his mind ‒ who was Romond’s accomplice? Stone knew a lot of criminals but none of them fit the right profile. Only a government worker or maybe someone in the town planners would have access to the information required for breaking in to all these wealthy homes. He felt at a loss and with only seven days to close the case, he really needed to catch a break.

False leads were also hampering their efforts with another case they were working on, related to a new drug ring in town, and all they seemed to be doing was taking three steps forward and two steps back. Nothing was sticking and all their snitchers seemed to be avoiding them like the plague.

He yawned and drove off through town towards his home. It was a little after three. He rubbed his face. Three hours shut-eye would have to do, again.

A male blonde-haired figure suddenly bolted across the road with a thick-set man in pursuit. Stone hit the brakes. The second man’s shirt flew up to reveal a stowed gun. Stone jumped from the car and took chase through the alley, slowing his pace and keeping to the shadows when the second man towered over the first with his foot grinding into the man’s chest.

Get your foot off me, Moby! I’m not going to tell you anything.

Yes you will, chump.

Stone stepped into the open.

The big man whirled around and grunted, Who the fuck are you? Get lost. This doesn’t concern you.

A flash of humour crossed Stone’s features. It’s a free country and maybe you should consider leaving the chump alone.

The blonde man scrambled to his feet.

Stone eyed the young man’s clean-cut appearance. You’re way out of your depth with this guy, son. Are you all right?

The young man nodded.

Moby glared and sauntered towards Stone. I don’t like being interrupted. Maybe I need to teach you some manners.

Stone smirked, That’s usually my line but give it your best shot. I love early morning get-togethers, especially with roughnecks like you.

Moby came in swinging. Stone dodged his tattooed arm and delivered a solid mid-section punch, followed quickly with one to the shoulder. Moby coughed and stumbled. He massaged his wounded ego for a brief second before running forward and slamming Stone against the brick wall. Stone wore a blow to the cheek and grimaced under the assault. He retaliated with equal force towards Moby’s nose and the big man staggered backwards with blood pouring from his nostrils. Stone showed no mercy and punched him one in the mouth. He then gripped Moby’s head and pulled it swiftly down towards his raised knee. The two collided and Moby collapsed groaning and clutching his face.

Stone flicked his hands. Fuck, you’ve got a hard jaw. His knuckles were grazed and bleeding. He turned to the younger man. What’s your name, son?

Je… Jerry.

Do you want to get out of here?

Jerry hesitated, What about him? He looks badly hurt.

He’s probably had worse. I’d say his nose is broken. Stone felt his nose and jaw. Thankfully mine isn’t.

Moby stirred on the ground and began to reach behind his back.

Stone rushed over and stepped on his shoulder. No you don’t, big fella. He relieved the man of his weapon. A person like you shouldn’t have one of these. It might go off. Stone whipped out his handkerchief and wrapped the gun.

We should call it in if he needs medical attention, Jerry said, moving restlessly about.

Stone frowned, This thug just chased you down an alley with the intention of doing some serious harm and you want to offer assistance? What are you, a medic?

As a matter of fact I am, well nearly.

Well, you could have been a dead medic if I hadn’t come along. What are you doing hanging around a dirt-bag like this?

I’m not. Look, thanks for your help but this doesn’t concern you.

Stone flashed his badge. Oh, I think it does. Jerry backed away with a crazed look in his eyes. Don’t even think about doing a runner on me.

It’s not me you have to worry about. That guy’s running now.

Stone hung his head and put his badge away. I’m never going to get any sleep.

Jerry shifted uneasily on the spot. Are you just going to let him go?

Were you aiming to press charges? Stone huffed at Jerry’s hesitation, If you want to run after him, be my guest, but I have his gun, his prints and with a face like his, I’m sure he’s on record. I can pick him up anytime.

But what if he comes after you?

I hope he does but in the meantime why don’t you tell me why a guy like that would want to threaten you.

Jerry glanced about him. Can I trust you?

I’m probably your best bet.

He raked his hands through his hair. I haven’t told anyone my concerns before.

There’s always a first time and the sun will be up shortly.

What’s that got to do with anything?

Will you just hurry up? I’m tired. I want to go to bed.

Okay. No need to get all hostile. He took a deep breath, A friend of mine died a few weeks ago. She was hooked on a new drug that hit the streets. It’s cheap and it’s nasty, a real mind-bender. I was trying to find out where she got it from. I know she used to go to Caesar’s Bar quite a lot but she never smelt of alcohol. She always seemed to be on a high and I figured the bar was her pick-up point. He paused for a moment. Have you ever heard of Charles Beatty?

The name rings a bell.

I think Moby must have overheard me asking about Beatty. Moby remembered me from a call-out I did the other day. His flatmate overdosed and all he was interested in was his next hit. He told me to get some drugs from the back of the ambulance. I didn’t, of course, and when he saw me tonight he came down on me like a ton of bricks. Jerry rubbed his brow. Next thing I knew, I was fending him off with a bar stool and running for my life.

Stone stood quiet. So what do you know about Beatty?

Other than he’s producing bad shit and destroying people’s lives… nothing. My friend died and I know he’s responsible.

Do you have proof?

Just go to Caesar’s Bar and see for yourself. Drugs are coming and going all the time.

Thanks for the info. I suggest you stay away and leave all this business with Moby and Beatty to the police. I don’t want to save you again. Twice is enough.

Jerry frowned, When was the first time?

You ran in front of my car. I could have killed you. By the way, what’s your last name?

Why? I haven’t done anything wrong.

I might need you one day.

Flemming. My name is Jerry Flemming.

Stone went to shake his hand but pulled up short when he saw the condition of his knuckles. I’m Detective Lawrence Stone and I won’t let you down.

***

There hadn’t been any point in driving home after running into Jerry Flemming, and Stone felt the need to check out some information he had received the day before about Bobby-Ray Giles and the brothel he liked to frequent at this time of morning. Stone stood in the shadows reading graffiti on the stonewashed walls when his suspect appeared with a scantily clad young woman and a tattooed man wearing loose fitting jeans. Arm sleeves seemed to be the in-thing for people in this neighbourhood. More money than sense, thought Stone. Bobby-Ray was only thirty-two but looked fifty-two, and was known for his bright colours and corruptible manner. He welcomed hugs from both people as well as kisses goodbye.

Stone inwardly cringed and realised why his informant had been non-committal when pressed for further information. Bobby-Ray appeared to be batting for both sides.

Stone pushed away from the wall. I was told I might find you here. Bobby-Ray spun around with eyes wide and fearful. It must cost a bit for a threesome.

Will you keep your voice down? He backed up against the wall and darted glances left and right. How did you find me? What do you want?

It’s been ages since we’ve seen each other and I’ve missed hearing your lisp. I was going to say maybe you should spend some money fixing up your front teeth but I suppose the gap comes in handy for other things.

Shut your mouth, Stone, before I make you pay for what you broke.

Now, now, Mr Giles, what would people think if they saw me handing you money? I have an image to protect. He followed Bobby-Ray’s hesitant glance towards the dark green sedan parked further along the street and leaned in closer, I’m real persistent when it comes to keeping an eye on my friends. I know you’re up to something and it’s only a matter of time before I catch you out again.

Bobby-Ray wiped his hands down the sides of his tattered jeans. I’m clean, Stone, and you shouldn’t have come here. He gnawed his lip. People are watching me.

I can see that, Stone said casually, and my being here is probably pissing them off. Are you ready for the shit to hit the fan because it probably will now.

Bobby-Ray looked aghast, What? No! You can’t do this to me. I haven’t helped you in any way.

I know that, but they don’t. Stone shook Bobby-Ray’s hand. I’m after the big fish, not you, so stay out of trouble for as long as you can. You might need to do some fancy talking, but that shouldn’t be a problem for a man like you with the gift of the gab.

You arsehole! Bobby-Ray yelled, as the green car did a U-turn and drove off.

Stone saluted and kept walking. He had seen the vehicle pull up earlier and now that Giles had confirmed that he was being watched, the question was why and by whom.

***

Krysta balanced on the tips of her shoes and reached up for the next hold. The bell at the top of the rock climbing wall was looming closer and the ground was getting further away. She checked her secured line and wiped the sweat from her brow. I can do this and I am not afraid to fall, she whispered. It was the same mantra every day she went rock climbing, and it hadn’t been easy coming back. Her fall from the old theatre building a year ago and the shock landing on the air mattress had given her nightmares, and she had been told the only way to stop them was to conquer her fear.

Sarah stepped up and reached for the next hold. We’ve been climbing different structures for nearly an hour and if my legs are burning, I can only imagine how yours must be feeling. She gasped for breath. I’m so glad you decided to come back.

I decided? More like you bullied me into it.

It was for your own good, besides, it’s just not the same with anyone else. They’re not competitive enough and you’re coming along so well. You’ve been climbing higher each week and you haven’t been calling for help lately. Your strength and confidence is returning and everyone is so proud of you for being persistent. It’s great to be active with my bestie again.

Okay, what do you want? I’ll accept your praise but your spiel better not have a condition attached.

Krysta Nevvar, how can you even think such a thing?

Put it down to years of knowing you. Her fingers and forearms were screaming for a rest. She dipped her hands into her chalk bag and kept her body close to the wall as she traversed left.

You’ve hurt my feelings.

Bullshit. Are you going to tell me or leave me hanging?

Sarah stretched further. I’m not always just thinking about myself.

Yes you are and that’s why I’m worried.

The race was on with a few metres to go. Krysta moved ahead but Sarah overtook her with a longer reach and stretched up to secure the last hold.

You lose, Sarah said, ringing the bell and kissing the wall. Nice try though.

Krysta heard herself wheeze and knew she’d overdone it. She yelled out to her belayer, Take! The person holding the rope stood ready. I was only a second or two behind you. She balanced on her footholds and relaxed momentarily. Your days are numbered, my friend. She pointed to a nearby wall that had a section jutting out halfway up. "One day soon I will give you a