1978 - Consider Yourself Dead Read online

  At 20.00, Frost decided Solomon and the Spanish chick had gone to their respective homes, and it would be safe to take a swim. He spent until midnight, swimming, lazing under the palm trees, and watching the dolls and their boys having a ball. He felt lonely.

  He slept late, had lukewarm coffee that should have been ashamed of itself, then dressing, he sat down to wait again.

  By 15.00, after another gruesome lunch, he was fit to be tied. Maybe, he told himself, it hadn’t been such a hot idea to come to this City. He was now sorry he had listened to Marcia’s sales talk. Then just when he was deciding to cut his losses and take a look at Miami to see if there was anything cooking there, the telephone bell rang.

  It was Solomon on the line.

  ‘I have a job for you, Mr. Frost. Will you come to my office immediately. It’s a matter of urgency.’

  ‘The knock you are hearing on your door is me arriving,’ Frost said, hung up, bolted to the VW and was on his way.

  * * *

  The Spanish chick was at her desk manicuring her nails when Frost hurried into the outer office.

  She gave him a stony stare and flicked her fingers at Solomon’s office door.

  ‘There you are, Mr. Frost,’ Solomon said, from behind his desk. ‘Sit down. A job’s come in that’s custom made for you.’

  Frost sat down.

  ‘What’s it pay?’ he asked.

  ‘Six hundred a week, your own quarters, all found. Nice, huh?’

  Frost said it was nice.

  ‘You know the Agency’s terms?’

  Frost cocked an eye at him.

  ‘Not yet, but you’re sure to tell me.’

  Solomon chuckled.

  ‘Fifty percent of your first week’s salary and ten percent until the job folds.’

  ‘No wonder you can afford to wear a suit like that,’ Frost said. ‘Well, okay. What’s the job?’

  ‘Bodyguard. That’s what you want, isn’t it?’

  ‘Whose body do I guard?’

  ‘Mr. Grandi is a very valuable client of mine. He has reason to be anxious about his daughter’s safekeeping. He has a permanent home in Rome. An abortive, but vicious attempt was made to kidnap the girl while in Rome. Mr. Grandi, naturally alarmed, has rented a villa on Paradise Largo where he has installed his daughter. He thinks, away from Rome, she will be safe.’

  ‘Grandi? Who’s he?’

  Solomon made an impatient gesture.

  ‘Carlo Grandi is the richest industrialist in Italy. Rumour has it he is worth several billion dollars. He is, as I have said, one of my most valued clients. I have supplied all the staff at the villa, and I arrange everything for his daughter’s comfort.’

  ‘Several billion dollars?’ Frost’s ears pricked up. ‘What’s the daughter like?’

  ‘I haven’t had the fortune to meet her nor Mr. Grandi. I deal through Mr. Grandi’s major-domo, Mr. Frenzi Amando.’ Solomon grimaced. ‘Now, there is a difficult man, but that’s neither here nor there. The reason why I have had this urgent request for a second bodyguard is that Mr. Amando, checking during the night, found the night guard asleep. He was instantly dismissed.’ He paused to light a cigar. ‘I have highly recommended you, and Mr. Amando is prepared to give you a month’s trial. He relies on me to check out references and so on, and I have told him your background is impeccable.’ He looked slyly at Frost. ‘It is, isn’t it?’

  ‘You can say that again,’ Frost said, with a grin. He now understood why the Agency’s terms came so high.

  ‘I didn’t mention your more violent activities, Mr. Frost. I feel that would be unwise. I told him you have been a detective attached to the N.Y.P.D., then a Federal Agent, and recently a security guard. He seemed satisfied’

  ‘You mean the job’s mine?’

  ‘Yes, if you want it. I have several applicants for bodyguards, but as Marcia is a friend of mine and yours . . .’

  He waved his cigar in the air.

  ‘I want it. So what do I do?’

  ‘You are to report to Jack Marvin who is the senior guard. He is expecting you. Mr. Amando may not find time to see you himself. He’s a busy man, but if he does see you, watch your step.’ He pushed a slip of paper across his desk. ‘Here are instructions how to reach the villa. Paradise Largo is where the very wealthy live. Villa Orchid - Mr. Grandi’s residence - is on an island. Access to the Largo estate is over a bridge which is constantly guarded. You will have to show your driving licence to the guard who has been alerted to expect you. I suggest you pack, and get over there pronto. Okay?’

  Frost got to his feet.

  ‘I’m on my way, and thanks.’

  Solomon waved that away.

  ‘Anything for Marcia.’

  ‘Where does she stay when she’s here?’ Frost asked as he moved to the door.

  Solomon eyed him.

  ‘Didn’t she tell you?’

  ‘I forgot to ask.’

  ‘The Spanish Bay Hotel - where else?’

  ‘Is that something?’

  ‘The best and the most expensive. Marcia can pick up a thousand bucks a night when she’s in the mood.’ He rubbed his hands. ‘What a worker!’

  Going into the outer office, Frost saw Carmen had finished her repair work on her nails and was now reading a legal looking document.

  ‘The job’s mine,’ Frost said, pausing at her desk. ‘I owe you a ribbon for your typewriter.’

  ‘Shove the corn,’ she said curtly, ‘and sign this.’ She handed him the document. ‘It’s your contract with this agency.’

  Frost took a chair near her and read the document carefully. He read the small print even more carefully. All money due to him in wages were paid direct to the agency.

  Having made commission deductions, what was left was to be paid into an account in his name with the National Florida Bank. He was insured for ten thousand dollars against accident, the premium deducted from his earnings.

  If he didn’t hold the job for more than two weeks, there would be a further deduction of fifty percent on the last week’s salary.

  ‘You certainly know how to look after yourselves,’ he said taking the pen she offered and signing.

  She didn’t bother to answer that one.

  ‘How about a little celebration dinner tonight?’ he said, without much hope. ‘I could show you my press cuttings, and you could show me yours.’

  She gave him a stony stare.

  ‘Piss off,’ she said, and reached for the telephone.

  You can’t win all the time, Frost thought as he took the elevator to the ground floor, but, at least, you can try.

  * * *

  Paradise Largo turned out to be an isthmus linking E.l to A.l.A. highways, halfway between Paradise City and Fort Lauderdale.

  The causeway to the estate was guarded by a lodge and an electronically controlled barrier.

  A big hunk of beef, in a bottle green uniform, a .45 colt on his hip, surveyed the VW as Frost pulled up before the barrier. He then surveyed Frost who could see from the expression on the guard’s face, he didn’t think anything of the car nor of him.

  Taking his time, the guard came out of the lodge and took Frost’s driving licence.

  ‘Jack Marvin’s expecting me,’ Frost said. ‘Mr. Grandi’s place.’

  The guard read everything, including the small print on the licence, then handed it back.

  ‘Second on the right and straight ahead to the next guard house,’ he growled, then went back into the lodge.

  Frost took the second on the right and drove down a broad avenue, newly sanded. On either side were ten feet high hedges. Every now and then, the hedges were broken by high, oak nail studded gates, leading to some villa. To Frost, the smell of wealth was overpowering.

  At the end of the road, he came to another guardhouse. The barrier was up and another hunk of beef was waiting.

  ‘Straight ahead,’ he said, staring at the VW as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. ‘Park in bay 10. Marvin’s there, waiting
for you.’

  Frost drove over a fifty-yard long bridge, spanning the seawater canal. Ahead of him he could see an island in the middle of the lagoon. The island was screened by closely planted mango trees. Over the bridge, he saw ahead, ten-foot high double gates. They swung open as he reached the far end of the bridge. As he drove on to a broad sandy drive, he saw, behind the screen of mango trees a ten-foot high fence of electrified wire. In his driving mirror, he saw the double gates had already swung shut.

  A hundred yard drive through a forest of papaya and loquat trees brought him to Grandi’s residence.

  The villa was two-storey, Spanish style, covered with red and white bougainvillea. The villa probably had some fifteen bedrooms. To Frost, it looked enormous. In the front of the villa was half an acre of lawn and a small lake with a playing fountain. Beds of roses and begonias made splashes of colour.

  Near the villa was the car park. A cream and brown Rolls Camargue sneered at a sky blue Lamborghini that, in its turn, sneered at a silver Benz.

  As Frost parked the VW in bay 10, a tall, thin man, wearing a grey suit, dark blue slacks tucked into Mexican boots, came out of the shade and advanced towards him.

  On his hip was a .38 police special. He wore an Australian style hat, the sides laced up.

  As Frost got out of the car, the thin man joined him.

  Steady, steel grey eyes set in a thin, hard face, surveyed Frost, then he thrust out his hand.

  ‘Jack Marvin.’

  Frost shook hands.

  ‘Mike Frost.’

  ‘Suppose we walk around, and I’ll wise you up on the job?’ Marvin said. ‘The first thing you’ll want is a uniform like mine. I’ll tell you where to get it. I’ve already talked to the cops, and all you have to do is to go to the cop house for a gun permit. We have an armoury here, and you can take your pick. As you’ll be on duty at 20.00 tonight, there’s a bit of a hustle.’ He moved into the shade and led Frost down a narrow path, bordered by orchid trees, talking as he went. ‘This is an easy job. The security is more or less taken care of by electronics, but all the same, you have to be constantly on the alert. In the guardroom in the villa there is an alarm panel and TV scanners. Your job is to watch the alarm panel and the scanners, and keep watching. It’s a hell of a boring chore. I guess you spotted the electrified fence as you came in. Don’t go near it. It’s lethal. If some smart ass, using insulated cutters, opens a way in, an alarm alerts the cop house and shows on the panel in the guardroom. The island is completely enclosed by the fence. We don’t reckon to have trouble during the day. There are too many boats on the lagoon, and as you’ve seen, the entrance is well guarded. At 21.00, four Doberman Pinschers have the run of the island. They are killers: make no mistake about that. When on night shift, you stay in the guardroom. Don’t go out unless you want your throat torn out. The dogs know me. I let them out and lock them up when I come on duty during the day.’ They came out of the shade, and into the open by the fence at the back of the island. Frost could see the seawater canal ahead.

  Already there were a number of motor cruisers and yachts roaming aimlessly. The crews were either fat old men and their fatter wives or lean young men with their dolls. The scene reeked of wealth. ‘Just along here,’ Marvin said, ‘is where the boats are kept.’ He moved on and reached a gate, overlooking a harbour in which floated a sixty-foot motor yacht, a Cris-craft and a dinghy with an outboard motor. Marvin waved to the boats. ‘All so much waste of money. No one uses them, but they are there, if anyone wants to.’ He spat at the fence. ‘I guess all these rich punks on the estate have boats, so we have boats too.’

  Leaving the harbour, he led Frost towards the villa.

  Frost was absorbing the scene, missing nothing. Finally, they came to the villa, and Marvin led Frost along a broad sandy lane until they paused before an oak, nail studded door.

  ‘This leads to the guardroom,’ Marvin said, producing a key. He unlocked the door and Frost followed him into a large, air-conditioned room. There was a battery of TV sets against a wall. By them was a big panel covered with red, yellow and green lamps. On another wall was a gun rack. The arsenal was impressive: two shotguns, two automatic rifles, a tear gas exploder and a range of handguns.

  A table and two chairs occupied the centre of the room.

  Two lounging chairs stood before the TV sets.

  ‘Here’s where you work nights,’ Marvin said, closing the door. ‘You sit in one of those chairs and watch the panel and the monitors. You keep awake. Joe went to sleep, and Old Creepy caught him. If you want to stay with this job, you don’t go to sleep. You have the night shift this week, I take it next week.’ He went to a big closet, opened it to reveal a refrigerator. From it he took two cans of beer, gave one can to Frost and waved him to a chair.

  Frost sat down, saluted Marvin and drank.

  ‘Old Creepy? Frenzi Amando? Solomon mentioned him.’

  Marvin nodded and sat down.

  ‘Right. The original sonofabitch. I like this job. The bread’s fine. The conditions are good. Wait until you see your living quarters: very, very nice. I’ve been here now for three months, but old Creepy spoils the scene. There have been times when I’ve nearly banged his rat teeth through the back of his neck. He looks for trouble. The sonofabitch loves trouble. He loves waving his power.’ Marvin drank from the can. ‘So if you want to keep this job, and it’s worth keeping, watch it with Amando.’

  ‘Solomon said there was a snatch threat,’ Frost said.

  ‘Right?’

  ‘That’s the reason for this operation.’ Marvin took a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and offered it.

  They lit up. ‘I’ll put you in the photo. Grandi - he’s the boss - has lots of dollars. Just to give you an idea, if he lost five million, it would be the same as you losing twenty cents, and I’m not kidding. Five months ago, when he was in Rome, an attempt was made to kidnap his daughter. Let me tell you about her. She’s young, something to look at, spoilt, a bit of a hellion, and until this kidnap attempt, had the run of Rome. Grandi is besotted with her. The kidnap attempt scared the crap out of him. It ended with four thugs getting killed and two cops died later. Grandi decided to get his daughter out of Italy. He rented this place, fixed the security and the daughter now lives here.’ Marvin grimaced. ‘I’m sorry for her. She is virtually a prisoner. She never leaves the island. She has swimming in the pool, two new movies a week, and TV, but that is a hell of a bore after living wild in Rome. Grandi visits her every six weeks. Old Creepy makes sure she remains on the island, and makes sure you and I do our job.’ He looked at Frost. ‘Got the photo?’

  Frost waved to the TV monitors and the panel.

  ‘So all I have to do is sit tight here and watch? Suppose the red comes up?’

  Marvin pointed to a door.

  ‘That leads into the living quarters of the villa. You don’t use it unless the red goes up. If it does, you grab an automatic rifle and go to the bottom of the stairs, leading to the sleeping quarters. You stay right there so no one gets up to Gina’s room - that’s the daughter. When the red light goes up, the cophouse is alerted, and within a couple of minutes, the cops arrive.’

  ‘And the dogs tear them apart.’

  ‘The dogs are well trained. If they haven’t already fixed any intruder, then another red light goes up. There is an electronically controlled whistle that only the dogs can hear, and when they hear it, they go back to their compound and the gate automatically shuts. Give or take, five minutes, you’ll have the cops in your lap, and I’ll be around too.’

  ‘Sounds as if I’m going to earn my bread the easy way.’

  ‘Sounds like it, doesn’t it? The trick is always to be alert so Old Creepy doesn’t stick a knife into you, and don’t kid yourself it’s easy to stay alert through a long, dull night.’

  Frost shrugged.

  ‘I’ve had worse jobs. Talking about jobs, did Joe Solomon fix you here?’

  Marvin shook his head.

&n
bsp; ‘I don’t give ten percent of what I earn to a smart shyster. I was a State trooper for fifteen years. My wife and I fell out.’ He took a drink and grimaced. ‘I guess we got married too young. On my own, I found it was no fun being a cop in a rented bungalow. I got talking to Tom Lepski, a good friend of mine. He’s a first grade detective at the cophouse. He told me about Grandi needing a bodyguard. I sold myself to Old Creepy and got the job, and I fixed Joe Davis, a buddy of mine, to be second guard. I earn eight hundred a week. I have a cabin to live in with a Jap to take care of me. All meals - and good ones - are provided.’ He grinned. ‘As long as it lasts, it’s the best.’

  Frost mentally noted that Marvin didn’t belong to the ‘fast buck’ people. They finished their beers, then Marvin got to his feet.

  ‘I’ll show you your cabin.’

  Frost followed him around the back of the villa, past a vast swimming pool, equipped with lounging chairs and a bar where a small Japanese, in a white coat, was rinsing glasses. He eyed Frost, then bowed to him.

  ‘That’s Suka. He looks after us,’ Marvin said, without stopping. He went down a narrow path. They hadn’t gone far before they heard the savage, spine-chilling sound of barking dogs.

  Around a bend in the lane, they came upon a wired-in compound where four enormous Doberman Pinschers stood in a threatening row, barking and snarling.

  ‘Wrap up!’ Marvin shouted at them, and the dogs immediately became silent, their eyes on Frost.

  ‘Keep clear of them,’ Marvin said. ‘They are killers.’

  Frost believed him.

  Passing the compound, they came on two wooden cabins.

  ‘This is yours. The one next is mine.’

  Marvin pushed open a door, and they entered a big living room, comfortably furnished, plus a TV set and a stereo radio, then through to a big bedroom, a well-equipped bathroom and kitchenette.