The Iron Tiara

Her eyes got serious and her lips formed a grim straight line when she added, "And you're wrong, mister. Nobody is worse than Anthony Bear."

The man who called himself Ben Diamond took a bite of his sandwich and washed it down with black coffee. It hadn't taken him more than a few hours after the conversation with Gloria to locate Dr. Veronique Dubois. And after traveling back to Tampa to fill Van Chapman in on his plan, he’d immediately started to let his facial hair grow and stopped bathing. He’d sat outside the hospital in his rental car for days before he finally pulled the knife across his palm and entered the ER.

After leaving the hospital, he’d watched from his car and less than ten minutes later, saw Veronique Dubois charge out of the hospital. He followed her to her townhouse, waited another thirty minutes for her to reappear, followed her again and smiled with satisfaction as she turned onto the desolate road that led to Anthony's house. He parked across the street at a gas station and waited.

The lady doctor reappeared about forty-five minutes later, and he was certain an angry Christy Chapman would soon follow. And when that didn't happen, he wondered if maybe Anthony and Christy weren't at home. But if that was the case, why would Veronique have taken so long to reappear? She must've been doing something at Anthony's house. He sat for a couple more hours, hoping to catch a glimpse of either Anthony or Christy to see if he could read their body language from a distance. Had Veronique's visit caused a rift in their relationship? Would Christy be running away from Anthony?

He was beginning to think his plan to antagonize the doctor into prompting Christy to leave had failed. He was getting ready to drive off when he caught sight of Christy blowing through the stop sign at the intersection where Anthony's road met the four-lane highway. It was all he could do to get his car started and try to catch up with her.

He was positive she would be heading home or checking into a motel, and that was where he would grab her. What he hadn't counted on was her pulling a U-turn so quickly, it almost caused a tractor-trailer to jackknife, which in turn resulted in a series of drivers, including him, slamming on their brakes. Christy hadn't caused an accident, but she did create enough of a delay that by the time he'd turned around and made his way past the disgruntled truck driver, he'd lost sight of her. He’d slammed his fist hard on the steering wheel and let out a litany of expletives.

At that time, he pulled over at the next convenience store and formed another plan. A plan that no longer involved Christy Chapman. After having his chat with Gloria and getting more information about Anthony Bear, he'd had some reservations about crossing the man. What Gloria had told him about Anthony was apparently true. He was not someone you wanted to take on. Even if it was never traced back to him, he didn't want to be looking over his shoulder for eternity. He took losing sight of Christy on the road as a sign. It was time for him to ditch this job. But not before he got paid.

After collecting his belongings, he headed back to Tampa. Once there, he rented a nice room in the home of an elderly widow. It had a separate entrance, and she only required a small deposit up front. He found a pimp and gave him specific instructions as to the type of woman he wanted. After meeting with three of them, he settled on one who agreed to cut her long hair.

He took her to his rented room and pulled out his camera and a rope from a dresser drawer.

The woman looked at him curiously. "Should I take my clothes off?" she asked him, eyeing the camera that, after the press of a button, would print out a picture instantly.

"Nope," he told her as he unwound the rope.

"So, what do you have in mind?" Her tone was hesitant after she saw him retrieve duct tape and a black scarf.

"Don't be afraid," he told her. "I don't want sex."

A noisy family in the next booth stirred him from his recollections. His sandwich finished, he took another sip of his coffee and reveled in his own cleverness. After signaling the waitress for his check he looked at his watch and smiled. It was time to leave for his appointment with Van Chapman. In less than two hours he'd be on a flight to Dallas where he'd been hired to convince a landowner to sell his family property to a ruthless businessman. He just hoped this next job wouldn't involve kidnapping, drugging and a larger-than-life Native American with a mean streak that would put a serial killer to shame.



"It's done," he said, as he laid an envelope on the coffee table between him and Van.

"You got her? You got Christy?" Van asked, his voice hopeful.

"It's all there." He nodded toward the envelope. "I want my money. And the terms have changed."

Van picked up the envelope but stopped to look at the man before opening it.

"What terms?" he asked.

"The price was twenty grand. Ten now, and ten after she's fully addicted and dropped somewhere in the middle of the city. I want nineteen thousand now, and one thousand after she's picked up by the cops and you're called to spring her."

"Why?" Van asked.

"Look at the pictures," the man stated, nodding at the envelope Van held.

Van opened it and allowed several photographs to spill out on the table. He picked each one up and looked at it carefully. They all showed Christy tied to a bed. She had a black scarf covering her eyes and duct tape on her mouth.

"Yeah. So?" Van said.

"Your original plan was to have her held at Anthony Bear's camp. This isn't his camp. I’ve had to front my own money to pay for a woman who is a nurse to hold Christy hostage in her home. You can tell she's in a bedroom."

"What does that have to do with it costing me more up front?"

"Because if I'd done it your way, and found some lowlife to keep her drugged up, they more than likely would've overdosed her. I'm paying more money to protect your investment. I have to pay this nurse not only for the drugs, but for the two weeks she'll miss from work while she stays home to babysit. Not to mention my expenses for the last two weeks. And you want me staying in town for the next couple of weeks to monitor her and ensure her delivery, right? It adds up—and based on what you're capable of having done to your daughter, I don't trust you to come up with my final balance. Ten thousand is too much to leave hanging out there. I leave here with nineteen grand, or I’ll leave here and release your daughter now."

"If this nurse is keeping her drugged, how is she going to be used and abused like I wanted her to be?" Van asked, his lips thin.

The man couldn't believe what he was hearing. What a lowlife piece of scum. It wasn't bad enough that he wanted his daughter addicted to drugs, he wanted her raped and used as well. He had to think quickly.

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