A Mighty Fortress (28 page)

“Fat chance on that, Porter. You can find your own girl, you kinky bastard.”

“Not for me—for the case. There’s a girl who’s missing.” I told them about Angie, and gave a little background on why I needed to find her, but without disclosing the details of my conversation with Giuseppe.

Pinkerton leaned forward in his chair. “So let me get this straight. You want me to visit all the strip clubs in town, and try to get more information on a girl named Angie?”

“That’s her nickname. She might also go by Eve or Evie. Or even Angel.”

“Are you kidding, Porter? Angel is the stage name of every other girl in town.”

I shrugged. “So go with Evie. And we’re not talking strip clubs. I want you to go to another kind of establishment.”

Pinkerton leaned forward. “What would that be?”

I explained to the judge what a lingerie shop was.

His face lit up. “How come I didn’t know about these places?”

“Can I come?” Hector asked.

“Sorry, friend. I have another assignment for you.”

Pinkerton glanced at his beer bottle, and then he alternated an awkward series of stares between me and Hector. Finally, his face twisted with a smirk, and a bout of his signature raspy laughter followed. “Good God, Porter, this is some brain trust you’ve assembled here.”

I sighed. Truer words were never spoken. At least at my kitchen table.

I left the dynamic duo and returned to my bedroom. My phone was fully charged now, and waiting to boot. I turned it on and saw that I had about ten messages. I knew who they were from.

I thought about calling Val, but called her brother first.

“Fortress, where the hell you been?” he barked into the phone.

“Sleeping. I need to see both of you.”

“I’d bring her over there, but I’m afraid she’d kill you.”

“Not here, Rico. I don’t want her anywhere near me. I want you to pack her suitcase and get her as far away from here as possible.”

“Fat chance.”

“Where are you two, Rico?”

He covered the phone up and mumbled something I couldn’t hear.

“You’re with her?” I said. “Let me talk to her.”

“Not a good time,” he said, his voice low.
 

I checked the alarm clock on my dresser. The evening was going to get away from me. “Okay, then, listen. I need to run a few errands. I’ll call you when I’m done so we can meet, but not here. Let’s meet tonight at your place.”

“No promises.”

“Thanks.” I was willing to take whatever I could get. I knew it was going to be a long night.

Hector and I waited in the driveway for Judge Pinkerton, who’d said he needed to relieve himself. Five minutes later, I wondered if he might have fallen in. Hector finally broke the silence. “What are we going back to SkyGate for?”
 

“I’ll explain when we get there.”

“I don’t want to risk it again, Milo.”

“I know, and I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t really need it. We’re just going to scope something out.”

He nodded as Pinkerton reappeared. “You okay, Judge?” I asked.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Porter. You’ll remember this if you live to be my age.”

“Remember what?”

“The day you made fun of my prostate health. Now let’s get this on.”

Hector rolled his eyes and wished me luck.
 

I told him we’d need it.

“I’m not going to come across as a stalker,” the judge assured me as we drove across town. “Besides, if you’re so worried about that, why aren’t you doing it yourself?”

“Let’s just say I think you’ll fit in a little better, and won’t raise as many eyebrows.” I didn’t know that I necessarily believed that.
 

I pulled the car into the parking lot of a strip mall off Armenia. “Well, I don’t think this will help, but if it comes down to it, she used to work here but dabbles in porn now.”
 

He pulled out a wad of bills. “I’m going to get reimbursed, right?”

I shook my head. “Most likely not.”

“Who the hell are we working for now, Pilka?”

“Not exactly.” He didn’t move. “Do you really want to know?”

“Humor me.”

“I guess you could say Scalzo’s family has commissioned our endeavors tonight, and will be keeping close tabs on our findings.”

He sighed. “Oh well, you only live once.”
 

“If you finish up, feel free to take a taxi to any of these places.” I handed him another sheet of paper with addresses to all the local shops in which I was sure Pilka had a hand. “I’ll check in when I’m done. Call me when you’ve had enough.”

“Insatiable, Porter. That’s one word to describe me.” He hopped out, kept his face covered, and made a beeline for the entrance.

“Insatiable, all right,” I muttered, and put the car in reverse. It was time to pay my friends at SkyGate another visit.

On the drive downtown, something odd happened: I grew a conscience. At least for my eager-to-help neighbor. He’d already put his ass on the line once for this investigation. I wasn’t going to ask him to do it again unless I really needed him, so I told him to wait on standby. First, I was going to try to pay Don Alexi a visit the good old-fashioned way.

I checked in with Stewart at the reception desk. “You recognize me, Stewart?”

He studied me for a moment before his eyes swelled. “You lost the beard.” His voice grew weak. “You know, I told the cops about you. How you were looking for him the morning he died.”

“That’s fine, Stewart. I’ve talked to the cops. Had nothing to do with it.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see a resident who’s expecting me.”

He wetted his thin pink lips. “Who would that be?”

“Don Alexi.”

He was still studying me.

“I can tell you know the name, Stewart. I’m going to get on that elevator and pay him a visit.”

“What’s holding you up, then?”

“If you could just remind me of his apartment number.”

He shook his head. “No freaking way.”

“Fine, I’ll tell Mr. Alexi.”

“Why don’t you call him if you know him so well?”

“Because I don’t know his home number. I only talk to him when he’s in the office.”

I really didn’t want him to call Don, but I could see where this was going. “One minute.” He picked up the phone.

“Why don’t you just tell me the apartment number?”

He grinned, and then his face turned serious when someone answered. “Yes, this is Stewart downstairs. There’s a Mr. Porter here to see you.” A frown sprouted on his mug. “Yes, that Porter.”

“Milo Porter,” I reminded him.

He repeated my name. “Very well, sir. I’ll let him know.” He hung up and grunted under his breath. “Mr. Alexi will be right down.”

I turned, not gloating over my small victory, and waited by the elevator. The lobby was bustling; it seemed there was a lot going on for a Wednesday night. Most everyone here was late twenties, early thirties. Alexi was like an old pervert in this crowd.

He finally emerged from the elevator. He was dressed casual: sandals and khakis and a T-shirt that probably looked dirty right after a wash. “My wife’s not in a good mood,” he said with a jittery demeanor, his eyes red and his speech slurred. But it was his gait that answered the question that had brought me there.

“I suppose that’s understandable.”

“And I need a drink.”

I followed him outside to the corner bar, Taps. We grabbed the last open table, and he waved the waitress down and ordered an IPA. I said that sounded fine and ordered one, too. “Pretty convenient having a bar in your building,” I said to Alexi.

“Cut the shit, Porter. What are you doing here?”

I cleared my throat. “They were pushing me hard to identify you today.”

“How’d you know it was me?”

“I just confirmed my suspicions in your lobby. Your right leg is a little longer than your left, and it shows. That, and your build. And like I said, they were pushing.”

“Yeah, my attorney told me. Says it’s nothing to worry about. They’re just fucking with me.”

“Maybe not. I think I’d know if you tried to kill me last night.”

He shrugged. “Not sure what that means.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you lived in Scalzo’s building?”

“I told you, you never asked where I lived.”

“You know Wilcox hired me to find Scalzo’s killer. You didn’t think the fact that you lived in his building, the same building where he was killed, would be important?”

I could see in his eyes that he got the point. I could also see that being honest didn’t come easy to him. He didn’t say anything; he just nodded, seemingly in disgust with himself.

So I had another question for him. “And why’d you lie about Sal Barton?”

“Who?”
 

“Sal Barton. The private investigator I asked you about Monday afternoon.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do. Wilcox was going to hire him to serve Scalzo, but he had some kind of conflict of interest. You said you didn’t know him, but sure enough, he was right there in your company’s contacts.”

“Give me a break, Porter, I’m sure there are a lot of names in there I don’t know. Maybe Pilka hired him for something in the past. Hell, maybe it was Scalzo.”
 

Alexi took a long drink of the beer. He had a newfound confidence that made me think maybe he was telling the truth about Sal Barton. I asked him, “You heard from Wilcox?”
 

He shook his head. “That fucking bitch. I’ve tried calling his cell all day. It goes straight to voice mail.” He looked at me, and I could tell he had a question for me now. “So now that Wilcox is gone, what do you care about all this? Don’t tell me—Pilka hired you?”

“Why, does Pilka have reason to doubt you? I thought he was your alibi.”

“He is,” he said. “For most of the night.”

“Right. What I heard is, you left your wife with Pilka for an hour. The security cameras in his neighborhood show that.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he moaned. “Pilka knows damn well where I went.”

I was all ears.

“To pick up,” he said.

“Pick up what?”

“Blow. He’s got a habit like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Funny, he said the same thing about you. So why does he doubt where you were? Didn’t you deliver?”

“I delivered, all right. But he says I could have gone home to get it, done it then.”

“Why would he think that?”

“Because he’s a vindictive son-of-a-bitch. He really had a thing for Scalzo. I’ll never understand it. But he blames me for Scalzo leaving. He thinks I was jealous enough to whack him.”

“And don’t forget that you’re a well-armed lunatic.”

He nodded. “There’s that, too.” He gave it a moment. “So again, Porter. Why are you here? Are you working for Pilka now?”

“I’ve got my own reasons to be here.” I thought about mentioning my meeting with Giuseppe, but that might have been enough to put Alexi over the edge. I needed him thinking straight, at least for now.

“I’m sure you do,” he snickered.

“So let’s talk about Evie.”

“Whore.”

“Tell me how you really feel.” We each took a sip of beer. “So I heard about another video of her.”

His eyes turned weary. “Which one?”

“This one was with Scalzo.”

I had his attention now. “Where’d you see this?”

“It was on the Internet. That mean something to you?”

“It might. I’d have to see the video.”

“How many videos of them
are
there?”

He seemed to snap out of a trance. “I’m not sure. I’d have to see it. But on a related note, I did receive a call from McSwain this afternoon. I think he wanted to know if I’d been arrested. He asked about the settlement offer we’d made. While we’re talking about details, your little extortion visit would have been information you could have shared with me.”

“It was all Wilcox. He was looking for an out. He really thought McSwain would buy it.”

“All it did was get me in deeper shit.”

“What’s going on with this case, Don?”

“You’d have to ask Chad Scalzo. Oops.”

His phone rang and saved me from punching him. “Shit, my wife.” He answered the phone. “Damn it, hang tight. I’ll be right there.” He hung up, stood up.

“What’s up?”

“Fucking cops just showed up. They’re serving a warrant.”

I stood up to follow him, but he wouldn’t wait. “What kind of warrant?” I asked.

He didn’t answer. He just ran, leaving me to pay the check.

I returned to the lobby to see what I could find out. No signs of the police. Stewart, once again, was my only hope.
 

“What’s going on up there?” I asked.

“No idea. Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know Mr. Alexi received a formal visitor.”

“Let me guess: you’re behind this.”

“Negative. I’m just interested in seeing who they are.” And what they might leave with. I stood aside.

“You can’t loiter here,” Stewart protested.

“You saw who I left with.”

“And I didn’t see him return. You’re loitering.”

“What do you mean? He just came back.”

“No, he didn’t.”

Leave it to Don Alexi to run. Right on cue, a group of police officers got off the elevator. Some wore uniforms. C-Rod and Shields were in the rear, each carrying a large box tagged with evidence labels.

“Doing a little shopping?” I asked as they passed.

C-Rod turned first. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know.”

Shields saw me now, and stepped in my direction. “You sure about that?”

I didn’t say anything. I just crossed my arms and called his bluff.

That didn’t take long. C-Rod nodded for Shields to get going, and they left to catch up with their crew.

Stewart stared me down, as if to ask my next move.
 

Just then, my phone rang, and I gestured for Stewart to wait while I checked the call. I didn’t recognize the number, but answered anyway.
 

It was the judge. “Porter, we struck gold.” He gave me an address and told me to meet him right away.