ConjunctionChapter 12 Loose Ends
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Lieutenant Greg Bennett drew in a long breath as he reviewed the bloodbath in the Birdcage's lounge. Terry Mason was one of his target criminals but he'd never managed to gather enough evidence for the prosecution service to issue an arrest warrant. Bennett mused this would now be irrelevant.
The last of the corpses from downstairs was being photographed prior to loading onto a waiting gurney for transfer to the police morgue.
"What have we got Pete?" he asked Detective Sergeant Sands, who was busy unrolling a tape cordon.
"Four dead here," Sands replied. "Another four upstairs, including Mason the owner."
"Weapons?"
"These boys were shot with a Weston. Two slugs in each, centre mass."
"Very messy. How do you know it was a Weston?"
"Found two of them on the stairs, right next to eight spent shell casings."
"How many shooters?"
"Two ... Maybe one."
"That's fancy shooting. The Weston isn't the most ideal weapon: cumbersome, very nasty recoil."
"I'm just telling you what we've found."
"Eight shell casings and eight bullet holes in four goons?"
"That about sums it up."
"What's upstairs?"
"Two dead with multiple hits from a nine millimetre. Another shot in the head."
"Mason?"
"Broken bottle to the neck."
"He bled to death?"
"Doubt he had time. The bottle was rammed into his neck like a fucking pile driver. Almost took his head clean off."
"Any witnesses?"
"Girls are all as spaced out as you'd expect. They do claim that one shooter blew this lot away. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang."
"No way. The Weston's a two handed weapon. Nobody could fire two on full auto with any degree of accuracy."
"It gets better still. There were a dozen girls running around beside these guys and the shooter just picks them off without so much as winging the babes."
"We're talking about a professional then?"
"I guess, but I've never seen anything like this though. Reminds me more of..."
"Yes?"
"I saw a documentary once about those Special Forces guys."
"What? You reckon the Government's letting the military deal with our organized crime problem now?"
"I was just speculating."
"Show me upstairs."
There were two bodies at one end of the corridor, each punctured by several bullet holes.
"Every shot hit a vital area," Sands sighed, "Lungs, heart, gut, head."
"Close range?"
"Shell casings spaced every metre or so along the corridor. My guess is that the assassin hit them running ... I have a theory."
"Let's have it."
"Mason gets it first. Guy then turns and offs his number two in the doorway. Leaves the room then empties the remainder of the clip into these guys, grabs their guns, goes downstairs and finishes off the others."
"You think this was the work of just one man?"
"It certainly fits the facts."
"Motive? Who hates Mason enough to put him out of action permanently?"
"Mason kept the grass cut pretty short. Anybody looking like becoming a major threat tended to suffer an untimely demise."
"Out-of-towners then?"
"Possibly. There's something else you should know," Sands told him hesitantly.
"Go on."
"Mason was running kids."
"What!" Bennett exclaimed.
"We found a youngster in the back room. In a bad way but the medic thinks she'll pull through."
"This is serious shit. Not many people have the stomach to take that kind of risk."
"Maybe somebody caught wind of it and took exception."
"I want you to go through this place with a fine-toothed comb. Anything you find that you don't understand, tag it and let me know immediately"
"You got it boss."
On arriving at the small apartment, they sat around in shock, haunted by the memories of what they'd seen. Leonard half expected an assault team to smash the door down at any moment but as time passed he relaxed and began to believe they'd escaped the fallout. Sierra rustled up a makeshift meal from the limited contents of the kitchen cupboards whilst Grace spent an eternity in the shower, rinsing the blood from her body. With nothing to wear, she was forced to borrow some of Leonard's clothes.
The plasma tank projected a movie into the living space. Digitally rendered spaceships clashed in a ferocious battle between the stars but nobody paid it the slightest attention.
"What are we going to do Lenny?" Sierra asked nervously.
"You're both welcome to stay here for as long as you like. I know that you've probably got no place else to go."
Sierra took comfort in his words. Leonard had intimated that one day they'd be together but she'd never really believed it would ever come to pass. Despite the traumatic events, she wondered if this was a golden opportunity for them.
"We'll get you both some new things to wear tomorrow," he promised.
"Lenny, you're just too good to us," Sierra praised.
"I'm just glad the two of you came through this. I'd don't know what I'd have done if either of you'd got caught up in the crossfire."
Grace picked up the remote control and flicked to a news channel. A view of the outside of the Birdcage appeared, in front of which a news reporter interviewed a uniformed patrolman.
"There were dead bodies all over the place, girls running around screaming, total panic," the officer explained.
The interviewer probed about possible suspects but like many such reports, it continually reiterated what little was known whilst providing none of the answers that the viewers sought. Leonard turned off the tank.
"No point in dwelling on it. What's done is done."
Grace nodded. It was like a bad dream. Everything that had transpired since Tammy arrived at the club was disaster piled upon disaster.
"You should get yourself a bigger place," Sierra suggested as she returned from the kitchen with drinks for them all. "You can hardly swing a cat in here."
"Anything else you don't like?" Lenny retorted playfully.
"I'm sorry. I was just saying."
"You're right. It is going to be small for the three of us. It's all I ever needed before today. Maybe we can look around for something bigger."
Sierra put her arms around Leonard and hugged him passionately.
With only a single bedroom, the subject of sleeping arrangements never arose and the women climbed in together with Leonard sandwiched between them. He kissed them tenderly and fondled their clammy nakedness before watching in quiet expectation as they slithered seductively down his torso and worshipped him with their mouths. One sucked the bloated head of his cock whilst the other licked his scrotum then wrapped her lips around his sensitive balls. Not wishing to finish in their mouths, he arranged Sierra on her back and slid effortlessly inside her. His pleasure was magnified by watching the two women kiss passionately as he plunged relentlessly within Sierra's humid depths.
After enjoying Sierra for what seemed an eternity, he eased out of her and entered Grace instead, relishing her tightness. She wrapped her legs around his waist and they gasped in unison with each thrust. Sensing his closeness, Grace urged him to return to Sierra and watched as the two of them moaned, climaxing intensely in each other's arms.
Sex provided a welcome relief from the trauma of the day's portentous events. When he recovered his strength sufficiently, Leonard allowed Grace to position him on his back and crawl between his legs. She sucked him lovingly, tasting their mingled juices. Edging higher, she straddled his loins and took him deep within her vagina. Sierra feasted on Grace's breast, nursing hungrily on an erect nub.
Grace drew out the encounter for as long as possible, enraptured by the first time she'd enjoyed this particular arrangement and determined that it wouldn't be the last. When Leonard finally reached the point of no return, she ground herself against his crotch as his warmth flooded her.
While temporarily unable to perform, Leonard watched the two women make love; first by rubbing themselves against one another and then, after twisting around, by licking each other to several tumultuous orgasms.
Feeling superfluous, his feelings were soothed when Grace crawled between his legs and teased him back to semi-hardness. Although not hard enough to achieve penetration, Lenny's cock filled her hungry mouth, and he enjoyed her expertly delivered ministrations. His third emission of the evening produced just a tenuous dribble but Grace savoured it, rolling it around with her tongue before devouring it rapaciously. Too exhausted to continue, he dozed off to the sounds of the women's ecstatic sighs as they continued their sexual marathon.
The following morning, the women rose for breakfast leaving the somnolent Leonard to laze in bed. The smell of frying bacon eventually tempted him out of his cocoon and he ran his hand over their alluring forms as they served the food. They reminded him of his promise to take them shopping and he happily acquiesced.
Skipping from rack to rack, Sierra and Grace inspected then selected from the many fashions on display. Leonard watched from a distance, never ceasing to be amazed at the limitless enthusiasm women found for clothes shopping. Having already run up a sizeable debt on his credit card from the previous two emporiums, he sensed that he wasn't going to get off lightly here either. He knew better than to complain after an exhausting night of sex.
Leonard knew he was definitely going to have to rent a bigger apartment if their delightful co-habitation was to continue. What he couldn't fathom was how to finance it now that his prime source of income lay stretched out on a granite slab.
A possibility had sprung to mind but he would have to pass it by Grace to see if she was amenable. It wasn't like she'd be doing anything different than before except the clients would be more exclusive and have deeper pockets. He didn't relish the idea of living off immoral earnings, but didn't see any other viable options presenting themselves.
Eventually, he'd re-establish his outlets and Grace could make the decisions for herself. Sierra was a different case. He doted on her and the thought of having her with him from now on filled him with nothing but happiness. There was no way he'd consider sharing her with anyone; although surprisingly he felt little jealousy about her relationship with Grace.
Things have a way of working out for the better, he mused. Both of the girls had finally escaped Mason's grasp. If things went to plan, he'd put his business back together and have Sierra and Grace to share his life.
Bennett and Sands sat drinking machine dispensed coffee, grimacing in disgust. An incident board set up along one wall held pictures of all the victims of the shooting. Whilst considerably older than his superior, Sands held Bennett in high regard and enjoyed working with him. The two had become firm friends over the past couple of years and shared a healthy rapport.
"What do we know about the kid?" Bennett asked.
"Snatched last week from a motor cruiser anchored off the Saragosan Peninsula. Dad's a banker and had put up half a million in reward money to get her back."
"Is she going to be okay?"
"Physically."
"Crap."
"Lucky we got to her when we did. Another twenty four hours and we'd have had another corpse on our hands."
"Are we keeping a lid on it with the press?"
"Yes. Nobody's breathed a word about this."
"Let's keep it that way for the time being."
"The girls had no inkling that Mason was running the youngster," Sands added.
"Are you getting any sense out of them?"
"Not much. Some are becoming a little edgy now they're not receiving their meds."
"We'll put them in the program soon. Hopefully they'll recover."
"Found a small pharmacy down in the kitchen: Hypnol, every illegal narcotic you could think of, and some sort of disgusting drain cleaner."
"What's that?"
"I don't know. Silver flasks filled with this foul smelling brew. No-one has a clue what it is."
"Send it over to the lab."
"It's already on the way," Sands confirmed.
"What have we managed to figure out about the assassin?"
"Forensics has examined all the pistols. We've got a full set of prints from Mason and his men, and a smeared partial from one of the Westons. They're trying to clean it up but they think it's probably too degraded to be of any use."
"Pity. Got ID on any of the girls?" Bennett asked hopefully.
"I've got a positive on a couple of them. We're trying to locate the families."
"This is an appalling business. We've known what Mason's been doing for years and just let him get away with it. Whoever took this bastard out deserves a fucking medal."
"Here's one thing," Sands added. "We accounted for all the girls except two."
"You got names?"
"Brunette called Sierra, been there since day one. Off the job mostly now, just cleans out the stables and keeps the girls tranked up. The other's a new girl: young blonde called Candy or Grace depending on who you ask."
"You think the shooter took them?" Bennett asked.
"Nobody saw them leave but things got pretty confused as you might well expect. Rumour has it that the two of them were an item."
"Seriously?"
"That's what I was told. My thoughts are maybe this Sierra saw the chance to split and took her girlfriend with her."
"If they're not too drugged up, maybe they saw something that could help us."
"You want me to try to put together a composite?"
"Do it for both of them. This may be our first break."
The following day, an artist's impression of the missing blonde lay atop Bennett's desk. He thought it generic enough to be almost anybody. A second drawing, of the brunette, fared no better under his scrutiny.
"Can't we do any better than this?" he moaned contemptuously.
"The girls are starting to climb the walls," Sands replied. "It took us all our time to get this far with them. We're going have to release them to the clinic soon before they do themselves a mischief."
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