Season of the Witch (15 page)

She put her arm under mine. “I guess you’re on the level, mister private eye.”

“You have no idea how glad it makes me to hear you say that.”

“Well, not many honest guys come to the Red Horse. Mostly just complete bastards, like your friend Longshot Lonnie. So maybe you are looking to help Danny out. I mean, you could have told Lonnie—” She abruptly fell silent.

“Told Lonnie what, Lucinda? That you knew where Danny was? It didn’t seem like Longshot was looking for Danny. Or should he be? Is that who he needs to find? To lead him to Eve?”

She looked down at the backs of her small hands. She suddenly reminded me of Lena, alone, vulnerable, trying to cope with other people’s brutality and lies.

“I think everyone is looking for Danny.” Her voice was strained as though she might cry. She left my last question unanswered.

“Lucinda,
What did Danny steal?
”

She turned slowly to me, our faces as close as lovers, her voice a thin whisper.

“Everything.”

Chapter 12

Lucinda hadn’t come across with all of the details, as I had hoped, but she did give me a promise; she was going to talk to Danny and try to convince him to talk to me. I could have followed her, but I decided to give her a chance. As I walked to the car, I thought about how suddenly it seemed easy; all of the pieces were coming together. Longshot had clued me in on his actions. Was it a slip-up on his part? Usually, if he had given me any information, it was a safe bet that I was being either set up to take a fall, or being used as a bloodhound.

Had Lonnie influenced the whole sequence of events to hang the murder of Hazelwood on me? Or did he figure himself short a detective with Hazelwood gone? If he planned either, it was unlikely that he would show me his hand by letting me know that he was looking for Eve. Was Lonnie lovesick? I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but I had heard things in his voice that I had believed his warped personality incapable of feeling.

It seemed much more likely that Don Ganato’s beef was really with Lonnie, or some of Lonnie’s henchmen, even if he didn’t know who he was looking for. Rival criminals never pass up a chance to stab each other in the eye, although their preference was the back. This was no full-blown mob war, but both factions were stirred up, and seemingly not just at each other. There was a third cook in the kitchen, that much was obvious. I had to find that person, the unknown. At the rate things were going, he would leap out of the next alleyway and give me a big kiss.
 

* * *

On my drive back, I looked out at the people wandering the sidewalks, moving in those pools of light and darkness. They didn’t look very warm. Worse, they looked lost, with no one to help them.

I shivered and drove north, toward the office. The rain was pelting and cold by the time I got back to the Brooks Building. As I climbed the stairs I noticed for the first time that I was very, very tired. I sat down heavily at the desk. I remembered a time when there would have been a fifth of Glenlivet in there to ease the pain. I could almost feel its warmth in the back of my throat, and the pleasant dullness that came afterwards. Sometimes I was glad it wasn’t there, anymore. Right now I wished it were. I rubbed my eyes, and tried to put it from my mind.

I then, with great trepidation, picked up the phone and placed a call to Harry’s apartment. Someone picked it up on the first ring.

“Hello?” The voice was Eve’s. Perhaps I read too much into things sometimes. But, somehow, I was certain that she knew it was me. Maybe she had been sitting there, waiting for me to call. There passed a heavy silence. I hung up the phone without a reply.

I was lost in thought a few minutes later when the phone rang, startling me. I hesitated before picking it up. It was Broom.

“Hello, Tiger, How’s the head? First I bring you clothes, I come back to check on you, worried sick, and you’ve punched out of the band-aid station without even giving your old partner a call. I was hurt. Don’t you love me anymore?”

“Well, sorry, Les. I can’t thank you enough for that, or the other night over at the West Precinct. I don’t mean to seem ungrateful. I’ve got another case that’s keeping me tied up.”

“Relax, buddy, I’m only joshing. Me, you don’t need to ever thank. Glad you’re okay. The other night, you looked like a poster child for death. I’m here to help when help is needed. And besides, I, the Great Lester Broom, am about to help you out yet once again.”

“Les, did I ever take a bullet for you? If not, just name your time and place.”

“I’ll remember that. People are always shooting at me. Must be my cologne. Anyway, I’ve been talking to certain acquaintances of mine. You know our old pal Harry? Well, he may or may not be leveling with you about this marriage business. Maybe he wasn’t leveling with you about going straight, either. Guys like him seldom do. It sure sounds great, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

“You’re probably right. Me and my soft heart.”

“I don’t think it’s your heart that’s being toyed with here.”

“Meaning?”

“As it turns out, your friend, Miss Eve, was formerly employed by that bastion of the Birmingham community, Longshot Lonnie O’Malley. Her dancing skills were legendary. Not to mention certain other skills not covered by the door charge.”

It took me a minute to respond. “Well, what do you know? That explains something I was told very recently.”

“Oh, but it gets better, partner. Apparently she, Harry, and Itchy Danny were all on the scene of a vice raid over in The Zone. The report says that the officer in charge was—”

“Detective Hazelwood?”

“Gosh, you’re good. You should be a detective.”

“No thanks, too much paperwork.”

I remembered what Eve had told me that night, in the apartment.
It was fate. We met in a checkout line.

“I don’t know, maybe I’m a big dumb lummox. But there’s still an unknown, and that’s what’s bugging me. What I don’t get here is the bottom line. What’s missing is the dirt.”

“Missing is right, but not dirt. It’s money that’s missing. Don Ganato’s money. At least that’s his story.”

“Give me a second, there, Roland, You want to tell me a little more about your meeting with Don Ganato? I didn’t get the memo.”

“I got taken for a ride by Ganato’s men one day when I wasn’t busy getting my brains knocked out. Seems one of his trusted helpers ran off with something—most likely a lot of money that he’d been given. Seems he was supposed to act as courier.”

“Those mob types are too trusting. And this runaway errand boy was Itchy Danny Weber?”

“That’s my bet. What better place for Weber to hide out than working for the rival gangster?”

“Okay, so he goes to work for Longshot Lonnie. This we know. But then what?”

“Here’s the screwy part, Les. The kid’s scared, but having all that cash must have got to him. He was partying, trying to live it up. Think about it. He’s been a two-bit punk his whole life, now he’s got money to burn. So he starts hanging out on the North Side, where he’s relatively safe from Ganato Family hoods. Not only is he partying his brains out, he’s seeing two different girls. One of them is content with things the way they are, but the other one wants to know where the money came from.”

“Trying to live it up in this town with money stolen from Don Ganato? That’s a good way to get yourself dead.”

“Well, he’s an experienced loser, a perpetual amateur. He’s probably not used to a score paying off.”

“So, he gets all squishy with love and spills his story?”

“Right, Les. He tells the one person that he shouldn’t have—Eve. Not a big mystery why, I guess. She’s a very desirable woman. The very same woman, by the way, that Longshot Lonnie O’Malley is in love with.”

“Mother of God.” Broom chuckled in his gallows-humor laugh. “No wonder she wanted to hightail it. Can you imagine even trying to hold a conversation with that psychopath?”

“It makes for an interesting mental picture. Anyway, she starts going out on Lonnie. Later, Hazelwood busts the lot of them during a pot party. When he questions her, Eve tells Hazelwood the whole story. So now he wants the money. But there’s more to it. A lot more.”

“Okay, Roland, you’re killing me. The money sure seems like enough to me.”

“It’s Eve, Les. I think she’s behind the whole thing. First she’s with Danny, then Hazelwood, now she’s with Harry. She’s with whoever she can use to get her hands on that dough.”

And she tried to be with you,
I heard my little voice say.

“Sounds like a nice girl.”

“My money’s on her, Les. Find her and you’ll find the money.”

“Why would Longshot go bananas over a suitcase full of Don Ganato’s dough? He’s got plenty of his own, Roland.”

“So he does, but I believe that the money in question was to be diverted to a new friend of Longshot’s, a lowlife with whom we are all well acquainted . . . Big Daddy. He’s more concerned with finding Eve.”

Broom was silent for a few seconds. “So, Lonny finally decided to get into the heroin business?”

“My guess is, subsidize it at least. Big Daddy may be a two-bit hood, but his is a big business . . . and it gives Longshot power in the Zone, something he’s wanted for a long time.”

“Well, that certainly explains your little ride with Don Ganato; he just wants to get that dough off the street, before he finances his own demise.”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense. There’s no way either Ganato or Longshot would come out in the daylight unless there was something big at stake. A lot bigger than some lost dough.”

“So what’s our next move?”

“
My
move, Les. I may have a line on where to find Danny. If I find him maybe this whole thing will go away.”

“It doesn’t work that way, pal. You know that. Once these mob boys get a whiff of blood, it’s hard to stop them. Ganato won’t forget what these kids have done. He can’t lose face. I need you to call me the second you find Danny Weber. This is bigger than your case now. I respect that you want first crack at finding the kid—I’m giving you that—but you’re going to need some help on this.”

“I’ll call, Les. You have my word.”

“Okay. Oh, and Roland.”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful around Longshot Lonnie O’Malley. That guy would spit in the devil’s eye.”

“The devil? I think he’s in love with her, Les.”

“This whole thing is as fucked up as a Chinese nightmare.”

The phone rang again as soon as I hung it up. It was Keeler.

“Hi, Roland, How’s it going? Hey listen, I thought I’d better call you. I’ve been prowling around the apartments over here. It looks like your girlfriend must have got out okay, because there’s nobody home. There isn’t any sign of the punk boyfriend, either.”

“She must be at her friend’s house. That’s what I was hoping you’d find. Thanks again, Jake.”

“No problem. Hey, let’s grab some coffee some time.”

“You got it.”

I fished from my pocket the crumpled sticky note on which Lena had written her friend’s number. A weary female voice answered after about ninety rings.

“Hello?” Children wailed in the background.

“Miss Rachel Toby?”

“Speaking. Who is this?”

“My name is Roland Longville. I’m a friend of Lena Waters. I was wondering if I could speak with her.”

“Oh, my god, mister, I’m so glad you called. I’ve been kind of worried.”

“What have you been worried about?”

“Lena. She went back to her apartment the day before yesterday to get the rest of her things, and I haven’t seen or heard from her since.”
 

A little bomb went off in my heart. “Do you know anywhere else that she could be?”

“Just at her place. She expected you to call or come by a couple of days ago. I think she wanted you to go with her to the apartment in case that guy Steve was there. She finally decided to go over there by herself.”

“Thank you, Rachel. Let me give you my number. I want you to call me the instant you hear from Lena, okay?”

Rachel promised that she would.

And that’s how quickly good news can turn into bad. I drove back to Lena’s place, hoping to find something that Jake had missed.
 

I parked and walked to the brownstone again. A light rain was falling. It had a deep blue color as it fell on the greasy sidewalks, mingling with the gray poison that collected there in puddles. Under the stoop of the neighboring building, I saw her, the old woman whose name I had never learned, but whose dog had been named Jerome.

“Evening, Ma’am.”

There was no outward sign that she even noticed me, save for a slight cringing from the sound of my voice. Her eyes were half closed, as if she were lost in some interior world.

“Ma’am, my name is Roland Longville. What’s your name?”

“Mary.”

“Mary, I need some information. I sure would appreciate it if you could help me.”

“I don’t know anything.” Her voice was vague and raspy from long disuse. “I didn’t see anything.”