To Kill the Duke (39 page)

As Ivan and Alexei scoped out the neighborhood where they would be waiting for John Wayne, they both noticed how opulent and wealthy Beverley Hills was. Not that they had been immune to such thoughts as they set up shop in Hollywood months ago; it’s just that they never had time to really think about what they were now seeing in Kirk Douglas’ neighborhood.

Each house is like a castle… I mean
is
a castle
Alexei thought as he peered up and down the street.

Wonder what these homes cost to maintain?
Ivan thought as he looked for a spot to hide and wait. Ever since Ivan had been in charge of making budgets for their movies, he had become aware of the dreaded overhead that came with making the movies, and he always adhered to the philosophy a down-on-his-luck producer had told him. “If you have to ask, then you can’t afford it,” the producer had told him.
Well, I’m asking about these homes, because I can’t afford them
he mused.

Alexei wanted Ivan near the front of the Douglas home, because he sensed that Wayne and his friends would enter from the back of the place. He knew he was the one who was going to have to do the killing, because he was far superior to Ivan when it came to creating mayhem. Ivan was a back-up for obvious reasons, in Alexei’s thinking. He parked the car on the darkest part of the street and they both waited until it was completely dark to find their places. From a few weeks of surveillance, Alexei knew that the streets were quiet at night and that hardly any police cars drove up and down looking for people who didn’t belong. Ivan and Alexei knew this was because most of the people who owned these homes were in the movie business and out of the area making movies. They didn’t need police because they all had private security companies that could be summoned. And if cops were ever needed in this neighborhood, they would be there very quickly, because of who inhabited the homes.

“Being a big shot in America is not much different from being a big shot in Russia,” Ivan once said to Alexei.

“Oh, yes it is,” Alexei responded.

“How so?” Ivan asked.

“Big shots in America have more money than big shots in Russia.”

Alexei wasn’t worried about the security company that had the contract for Kirk Douglas’ home. As soon as he could, he would find the special box that housed the communication line and dismantle it. It would be easy to find, because the security companies in Beverly Hills that had contracts with these movie stars advertised their names in big letters on their alarm boxes.

“Well, prostitutes dress to show off their bodies for their customers. You don’t see any hookers on the streets dressing like they are going to church do you?” Ivan said to Alexei when they were both going over their action plan.

“And barbers have a striped pole out front, so you know it’s a place to get a shave and a haircut,” retorted Alexei.

“So the damn alarm box should be easy to find,” Ivan said.

And it was.

Alexei found the box. It was located right near another box that Alexei assumed controlled the electricity to the house. There was also a big valve that Alexei had to assume was the water shut-off for the sprinklers that all these giant homes had.

“They probably spend more on watering their lawns then most people spend on vacations,” Ivan said to Alexei.

“Probably, but the big stars can afford it. At least average Americans
can
go on a vacation. The average Russian doesn’t even know what a vacation is,” Alexei said.

“Good point,” Ivan said.

Alexei noticed that there was a stone wall directly behind the boxes that afforded a lot of coverage thanks to the landscaping. The stone wall was surrounded by a lot of green thick shrubs, thick trees and great-looking flowers. He made his way to the alarm box and with one flick of his Bowie knife dismantled it. He found a place to stake out for the rest of the night and was happy that the flowers gave off such a nice aroma.

There are a lot worse places you have been at before a kill
, he thought as he hoped that Ivan was in position.

And Ivan was.

Alexei wouldn’t have liked the location that Ivan had found, but Ivan felt like he had found a perfect spot. He was under a big Cadillac. He had a perfect view of the street and he could shoot from under the car and hit John Wayne in the legs. He would then slide out, walk over and empty the pistol into the Duke’s body.

“What if someone would have gotten into the car and drove over you?” Alexei later asked Ivan.

“I never thought of that,” Ivan said.

“Next time, don’t pick a spot under a car,” Alexei said with a shrug, “or it could be toughski shitski for you!”

Alexei made himself comfortable, which was rather easy given how soft and warm the dirt was that he rested on. He put on his hood and
gloves and reassembled his rifle not once, but twice. He was ready. Now, all he had to do was be patient. His watch told him it was 10:30 p.m. From what Stompanato had told him, which Lana Turner had told him, Wayne could show up any time after 12:00 p.m.

Then, without warning Alexei started to smell something terrible. He did a quick check and didn’t find anything foul. Then he started sniffing at his gloves and hood, thinking they might be the offending party. Again nothing. The stench was getting to him and he had to find it. He searched a wider arch around where he was positioned and found the guilty party. It was a dead black squirrel, and Alexei relaxed, as if finding the cause of the stink had a calming effect. “Half an hour if I’m lucky,” he said under his breath. He also wondered
if he would have to kill Stompanato after he killed Wayne.

“Why not?” Ivan had asked him. “You know we shouldn’t leave loose ends.”

“Stompanato will never tell anyone. Because if he does mention it to anyone, it will implicate him and the Mafia in the murder and that will be the end of Johnny Stomp. Could you imagine these crazy Americans with their conspiracy theories if the American Mafia were dragged into the killing of John Wayne?” Alexei asked.

“Americans are so gullible, they probably think the American Mafia could whack a sitting American President,” Ivan chimed in.

“At least in our country, we have the Party that puts the hit on the leaders they don’t like,” Alexei joked.

“So you’re confident that Stompanato and Turner will never talk to the authorities?” Ivan asked.

“So confident that I’m not going to kill them. Besides, there will be no trace of us once the mission is accomplished. It would only
weaken
their argument and implicate them further,” reasoned Alexei.

Both Alexei and Ivan waited and waited and waited. Ivan would have fallen asleep if not for the few cars that drove by. Alexei was kept alert by the sounds coming from inside Douglas’ house.

“What type of sounds?” Ivan finally asked him, but only after the mission failed.

“A lot of yelling and grunting,” Alexei said.

“Probably sexcapades for the stars,” Ivan said with a shrug.

“No, it was Douglas working out like a crazy man,” Alexei said.

“How do you know?” Ivan asked.

“Think back to how the whole mission failed,” Alexei said with a shrug.

And as much as Ivan Viznapu wanted to forget, he did remember.

Ivan was lying on his left side under the big Cadillac when he heard a lot of commotion in the form of footsteps and voices. He moved to his stomach, and with his elbows he pulled himself next to the rear left tire. He clicked the safety off and readied his gun. He was ready. He looked up and saw nothing in his immediate view. He also noticed that the footsteps had stopped, but the voices hadn’t. From the sounds he was hearing, he guessed that the voices were about 50 yards away and moving toward him. Suddenly he heard a loud shout from a male’s voice.

“Here he comes and is he pissed! Skedaddle!”

The group started running towards Ivan and he slid back under the big car. He put the safety of his gun on, because there was no way he was going to be shooting what he assumed had to be at least ten people. He wondered what had happened and who was ‘pissed’ as he heard more shouting. He worried about Alexei, but had to worry even more about himself.

“
Toughski shitski
,” he thought as he waited for the small herd to run past him. Problem was, the group stopped right next to the big Cadillac and were literally on top of him.

“Thank God we got away from him,” one male voice said.

“You could tell he was mad,” said another male voice.

“He’s always pissed,” said the unique voice of John Wayne; Ivan froze. “That’s why he was our number-one target.”

“Who has the bottle?” asked yet a third male voice.

“He’s not following us, is he?” asked a fourth male.

And Ivan, body frozen, but not eyes, started counting feet.

He counted 22 feet, which immediately told him two things: One, that there were at least eleven people very close to him, and two, so many people meant that not only did Alexei have no shot (pun NOT intended) at John Wayne, but neither did he.

“He will not follow us. He’s probably already got the hose out cleaning off his windows,” John Wayne’s unmistakingly macho voice said, and
Ivan could tell that the voice belonged to the feet that were in touching position of his own hands. Not only couldn’t he move; he couldn’t believe how tiny John Wayne’s feet were.

“You couldn’t believe
what?
” Alexei later asked him as they drove back to
Seven Zeros
for a recap of what just didn’t happen.

“For such a huge man, he has very small feet,” Ivan said.

“I’m glad you figured that out Ivan. Now, not only can I die a happy man, I’m sure Mr. Zavert and Boris Gila will love knowing that piece of trivia,” Alexei said sarcastically.

“Hey don’t get mad at me. You were the one obsessed with the sex sounds coming from Douglas’ house, and you probably never knew Wayne and his buddies were in and out of his driveway so quickly,” countered Ivan weakly.

“I already told you that it wasn’t sex sounds coming from Douglas’ house. He was working out like crazy,” Alexei said.

“How do you know that?” Ivan asked.

“Because when he figured out that something very peculiar was happening in his driveway, he came sprinting out of his basement with dumbbells in his hands,” Alexei said.

“How did he ‘figure out’ something was happening?” questioned Ivan.

“I didn’t take time out to ask him,” Alexei said sarcastically.

“Boy, are you getting sarcastic,” noted Ivan.

“I think I have been in Hollywood too long,” sighed Alexei. “Does my sarcasm bother you?”

“Not at all. I like and respect you, so why wouldn’t I put up with your sarcasm?”

“Makes sense. I guess that cuts both ways,” Alexei said.

“I don’t want to know about what I do that bothers you, and that you have to put up with,” Ivan said as he waved off those thoughts. “So, how did Douglas know something was going on?” Ivan asked.

“That’s a good question, because John Wayne and his fellow raiders were on top of Kirk Douglas’ car quicker than I could ever have imagined. It’s like they appeared out of thin air,” Alexei said.

“You surprised? I don’t believe it!” yelled Ivan.

“Wayne must put his buddies through serious training,” Alexei said.

“Maybe they learned how to do it from others?” Ivan suggested.

“What do you mean?” Alexei asked.

“John Wayne and all his friends have been in westerns and war movies… maybe cop films, too. Probably learned how to sneak up from experts when researching their roles. At least, that is my theory,” Ivan said. “How do you explain Douglas finding out about them if they are that good?”

“I didn’t say they were professionals, did I?” Alexei again said sarcastically. They got past me and to the car very quietly. But once at the car, that all changed. That is what I think brought Douglas out of his house and I learned that the noises coming from his house were the strains from a heavy-duty work out.”

“The dumbbells,” Ivan said.

“Not being able to take Wayne out was a terrible blow; Douglas made me smile with how he used those dumbbells,” Alexei said.

“Please tell me,” said Ivan because he had been underneath the car.