Danger Magnet: The Laura Curtis, Female Private Investigator Series (3), #1

Chapter 1

It was a typical September morning in New York, hot and humid. My husband Jim had taken our kids, Jack and Emily, on a Circle Line trip around Manhattan, while I explored the shops. It’d been his idea and I’d been very happy to go along with it but...I could not have anticipated what I was about to walk into.

Happy with my purchase I stepped out of a store onto the pavement, or sidewalk as they call it here. People were going about their business in the usual way when...all hell broke loose!

A gunfight, a gunfight for God’s sake erupted causing people to panic and dive for cover. As I took refuge in a doorway I saw a small boy standing in the open, the battle taking place around him. A bullet hit the ground by his side and ricocheted to embed itself in the wall...just above my head. In response I rushed over, scooped him up and clutching him close to give him protection, I threw myself into a store and crawled behind a display cabinet.

It didn’t seem like it at the time but the whole episode only lasted twenty seconds or so and, as I discovered later, there had been no fatalities.

As I stood, the little boy, he couldn’t have been more than three, clung to me like a limpet, his face buried against my neck. He was petrified and not about to let go. I’d started towards the door when in rushed two gun-toting goons. I stopped and so did they saying, ‘Put the boy down and step back.’

I tried to put him down but he was having none of it, I wasn’t about to add to his misery. ‘He doesn’t want me to let go so I’m taking him outside, I suggest you step back.’

That seemed to throw them. By their reckoning I should have been trembling with fear and eager to comply, they certainly hadn’t expected defiance. Truth to tell I was scared, really scared, but pride would not allow me to show it.

They backed out the door, beckoning me to follow. As I did so a large black limousine with tinted windows pulled to the curbside. Another goon jumped out of the front passenger door telling me to get in the back. I refused saying, ‘Nothing doing, look the child is safe that’s all that matters. I’m going back to my hotel.’

As I spoke a window at the rear of the car was lowered, a man looked at me and said, ‘Please get in lady. That is my grandson you’re holding and I want to get him safely away. Besides, the cops will be here any minute so do not waste more time.’

The idea of joining strangers in a limo seemed crazy, impetuous to say the least but just then I heard the sound of an approaching police car. Due to fly home the next day I did not want to be delayed by their enquiries. I did as asked and as soon as I was seated I let go of Alex, for that was the boy’s name, and he transferred himself to his grandfather’s lap and began to settle down.

While Alex now felt safe I wondered what the hell I’d got myself into. As the car pulled away the granddad turned his attention back to me. ‘Lady you saved my grandson’s life, I will forever be in your debt. What is your name?’

‘Laura Curtis. I was simply having a morning shopping; we’re going back to England tomorrow, what’s your name? You sound Russian.’ I realized I was babbling and speaking far too quickly but just being in his company was making me very nervous.

He seemed amused by the manner of my reply and my obvious discomfort. Allowing the traces of a smile to cross his face he said, ‘My name is Yuri Yevchenko and yes I am Russian. Why you in New York and who you with?’

‘I’m on holiday with my husband and children. Look, you are not in my debt Mr. Yevchenko, I mean I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The point is though, just what the hell was Alex doing on the street alone?’

So I sometimes allow emotion to cloud my judgment. Speak first think later, ah well, too late now. He fixed me with the scary stare before saying, ‘Let me tell you I will be asking his nanny that very question. A friend recommended her, humph! I have things to take care of."

His eyes had glazed over as he spoke the last few words and just looking at him made me shudder. He shrugged and to my relief, broke into a broad smile. ‘No, you not in wrong place. I owe my grandsons life to your perfect timing and I want to reward your extreme bravery. I’m ex-military and as we say in the service you went beyond call of duty. For that I wish to reward you.’ 

Looking at his very expensive clothes and his gold watch he was obviously one very wealthy man. I didn’t want his money; it was equally obvious it had blood on it. Then I took a look at the suit I was wearing and realized it would need repairing. I further realized I’d scuffed my shoes, my favorite shoes. That gave me a way out.

‘Mr. Yevchenko, if you would simply pay me enough to replace this suit and these shoes, I will be very happy with that and we will be even.’

He looked around sharply with anger written all over his face. ‘Even? You think my grandson’s life is worth no more than a few clothes?’

I’d begun to stutter an apology when his broad smile suddenly broke out again, ‘Do not worry Mrs. Curtis; I simply want to demonstrate Russian humor. Too many people think we lack humor.’

I shivered as I thought yes, I expect you have a good laugh while sticking a knife in someone. As I was thinking that, he reached into his pocket and produced a thick wad of hundred dollar bills. Handing them to me he said, ‘This will replace the clothes but I am still in your debt so please remember, you need anything you are to call.’

At this I looked down at Alex who by now had dropped off to sleep, a sight which brought a smile to my face. Then looking back at Yevchenko I said, ‘Thank you for the clothes money but seeing Alex safe is reward in itself. Now all I want is to get back home.’

He seemed to digest this for a moment then he nodded once, ‘All right I wish to do more but I respect your wishes. I am giving you my contact details, now listen carefully, I say again if you ever in need of anything, anything at all, you are to call. Give me sworn word you do just that.’

I thanked him again and swore I would do just that. By now it was all beginning to catch up with me so I asked to be taken to my hotel. ‘I will not put you at risk by taking you, this car is known. Instead I put you in taxi and Sergey will ride with you.’

I started to say I’d be all right on my own but he was having none of it. His driver flagged down a taxi and it was time for me to leave. I couldn’t resist brushing my hand down Alex’s face and then, having shaken hands with Yevchenko I, along with Sergey, transferred to the cab.

That had been the easy part. Now I had some explaining to do to my husband. I had no idea what the gunfight had been about and the fact is I didn’t want to know. I’d become involved simply because I acted on impulse, I wanted to save the child. At some stage I would tell Jim the whole story, how else would I explain the bundle of cash I was now carrying? But I’d wait until we were back in England.

Getting in Yevchenko’s car had been an impetuous act on my part, some would say utter stupidity but I’d panicked. I did not want to become embroiled with the police; I wanted to be sure of getting on the plane tomorrow. At least it looked as though that would still happen.

As I’d told Yuri Yevchenko, my only interest was to get on with my life as a wife and mother. I also told him how I was part of a management team that ran a large Cambridge hospital. He didn’t seem particularly interested in that but I’m pretty sure the driver and Sergey exchanged glances when I said it.  

During the journey back to the hotel I was able to convince myself that once on my home ground, all this would be nothing more than an unpleasant memory. I swear, I never learn.  

Chapter 2

On entering the Marriot Hotel lobby I caught sight of myself in a wall-mounted mirror. I’d been told a number of times I resembled Hollywood actress Jennifer Aniston. I couldn’t see it myself, and right now thought I looked more like a homeless wreck.

I spotted six-year-old Jack and four-year-old Emily examining their latest souvenirs. Jim was pacing back and forth with a look of consternation plastered on his face. ‘I’ve been worried sick, where the hell have you been and why didn’t you call me?’

It was just the reception I’d expected. I rarely lied to Jim, discounting lies of the little white variety that is. Still, I’d decided not to tell him of my adventure just yet. I knew he would call it reckless stupidity, citing my duty to our family. He would be right I shouldn’t have endangered myself but I am what I am. I also knew his agitation was due to his suspicion I’d been involved in something. We seemed to have...um...oh I don’t know...a strong spiritual connection of some sort. 

Having told my story of getting lost in the stores and on the subway, not forgetting how I tripped over a raised paving stone and spoiled my clothes, we agreed to let it go in favor of eating lunch. So clinging hard to his arm we all went in search of sustenance. In my case that included one very large glass of wine.

After eating we decided it would be better to spend the rest of the day taking it easy. The children had other ideas. They wanted to visit the Empire State Building which, because of the crowds, was anything but easy. We did enjoy it though and the kids went to bed tired but happy.

Even after the children were tucked up I knew I wouldn’t relax until Jim and I finally climbed into bed. Yes well, emotionally bed was relaxing, physically it was taxing. Still, I must confess saying goodbye to New York in this way was very enjoyable. Nah! Truth to tell...it was sensational!

*

The next morning, while sitting in the departure lounge awaiting our flight to Heathrow, Jim picked up a copy of the New York Times...damn, the story about the Gunfight at the OK Fifth Avenue had made the first page. I knew he’d know I’d been involved. ‘This unknown woman who rescued a child then disappeared, that was you wasn’t it?’

I looked down at my hands, clasped in my lap, ‘Yes’ I replied in a quiet voice. ‘I’m sorry but I really had no choice.’

It helped having a lot of other passengers nearby, it was not the time or place for a heated discussion. Then as he sat looking at me the anger in his expression melted somewhat to be replaced with pride, just as I knew it would.

*

He had almost fallen asleep when to his annoyance the bedside phone rang. He picked up, 'This better be important.'

The caller let out a huge sigh before replying. 'Cutter, forget the crap and pay attention. I've sent you pictures of a family, husband, wife and two kids. They'll be arriving at Heathrow tomorrow morning; the flight details are in the e-mail, be at the airport when they arrive and follow ’em to their home.'

'You want me to take care of them?'

'No! Listen to me. Do not do anything. The woman may be useful or she could turn out to be a problem, if she does then you can. Right now all I need is their address.'

The brief call ended and, unable to get back to sleep, Cutter went to his computer to open up the pictures. The first download showed an attractive young woman holding the hand of her daughter. In another she stood talking to her husband. The final image showed the four of them together. Although an alien concept to him, he registered the thought they all appeared to be happy and comfortable with each other. This kind of relationship he had never known and never would.

In his pre-teen days he'd been beaten frequently by uncaring drug addicted parents. Without considering the consequences he once brought home a stray dog. A big mistake, which led to another beating. He responded by strangling the dog which he buried in the back garden. To his surprise in so doing, he felt a sense of power and satisfaction.

Three years later the story of how his parents died of a drugs overdose appeared in the national press. Again this filled him with satisfaction, his conscience didn't bother him, he didn't have one.

Now, having built his career with great care, he was an experienced and successful killer. His success he attributed to the many hours spent studying such matters as forensics and police procedures. He knew how to escape the long arm of the law. As a child he rarely knew happiness, his adult life compensated.

Turning back to the Curtis woman, he regarded her as another potential payday, another day at the office. He looked forward to it. In the meantime, he