Two Graves (A Kesle City Homicide Novel) (19 page)

Dani had met him when he was working as private security for traveling Englishmen. Their affair had lasted two months and in the rare moments they were out of bed, Jon had instructed her on the art of self-defense. Knowing some of the places she was heading, he had given her a knife and some rudimentary instruction on how to use it.

So far, the most she had done was keep it sharp. She was more than happy with that.

Dani checked the edge of the knife and ran it across the stone a couple more times. Van der Meer had kept his promise. Over their two months together, he had taught her the intricacies of blade fighting. She had learned to slash instead of stab. He had taught her how to protect her vital organs. How to take small slashes on her arm during a knife fight while searching for an opening. And, finally, the most lethal killing strikes.

She had not needed the lessons in Africa but by the time she left, she was very adept at defending herself with a blade. She took to carrying a knife in the battery vest as Van der Meer had suggested. She kept the knife in good repair. Van der Meer had shown her much and the very best hadn’t involved a blade.

Dani could still remember the hot jungle nights with the Major. Often her fantasies ran back to that time in her life.

With a small sigh, she slipped the knife back into its disguised sheath in her vest. The vest had changed over the years. The basic design, now worn by most of the Flashcam operators, was the same but instead of canvas, Kevlar was used. The light weight, bullet proof material had saved more than one Flashcam in the Middle East, Bosnia and even the streets of DC.

Still thinking about Van der Meer, Dani wandered toward the closet to find something to wear.

*

Mann watched Dani move toward the closet. He was aware she had not answered him. He suspected who consumed her thoughts. He knew about the Major. The fact that she thought about her past lover occasionally didn’t really bother him. He wasn’t the jealous type.

He might be jealous that she had such good memories. His good memories were obscured by the bitterness he now harbored toward his ex. She had been his first great love. The boys had come early in their relationship. Rick even before they were married. Their life had seemed perfect until the arrests. At that time, he had privately had more supporters in the department than not. But there was no support from home.

His wife saw the department as a family and inclusion in something bigger than her. But that was no longer possible and Mann had been the cause. She soon resented him and then hated him. After that, she turned the boys against him and left.

“You ready? Brant and Ruby will be waiting.”

Mann jumped up and grabbed his coat. He admired Dani in her cotton dress. A white belt was cinched around her narrow waist and neckline was just low enough to hint at things to come. In the car, she let him rest his hand on her bare thigh. Ex wives be damned. This was where the good life started.

Just down the street from Davis’ house, Mann let the car coast to the curb.

Davis was as big and mean-looking as they got. At six foot six and 250 pounds, he dwarfed Mann’s five foot ten. Now, the big man was playing a game of two on one with his sons in their driveway. Both would soon have the height of their father but for now were all lean muscle and explosive energy. Mann watched Davis use his extended reach to strip the ball away. And in the next instant, let the boys use their small size to slip under his guard and drive for the basket. Ruby stood at the side of the driveway, cheering the boys on and booing her husband when he took liberties with the rules.

The scene was all smiles, love and uninhibited joy. Everything Mann had been denied since his wife took his boys away. Jealousy often ate away at Mann during these moments and part of him almost hated Davis simply because he got to have what Mann knew he had lost. But how could you ever hate a father who loved as much as Davis loved his sons?

Mann felt an understanding squeeze of his hand from Dani. He slipped the car in gear and coasted up to the end of the driveway. “Did you beat the old man?” he called out to the boys.

“We slaughtered him,” the eldest called out.

*

“So, when are you two getting married?”

Davis smiled at Mann and raised his eyebrows. He enjoyed the dig at Mann. Besides, it always got his wife going whenever he brought up the subject. Ruby was convinced that Dani should never marry Mann. She loved Mann like a brother but she thought she had nabbed the only worthwhile cop. A woman would be a fool to marry any other cop.

“Forget marriage. Dani has too much going for her. Things are perfect the way they are. The occasional good sex and a place of your own for escape when he is being an ass. You stay with your career, girl,” Ruby advised. Ruby made a small motion with her fingers at Mann and smiled. “You go ahead and talk shop you two. Dani and I have plenty to discuss.”

Mann was mildly surprised that Ruby had noticed his signal to Davis. Time to change it once again. The two women started talking about Ruby’s most recent advertising account. Mann spooned more curry onto his plate and pushed a candle out of the way.

“Dani has heard a rumor about the department.”

Davis nodded through a mouthful of food.

“It seems we have a high level snitch in the department working for Angelino.”

Davis looked over at Dani. She and Ruby had stopped talking, both interested in the informant. “How good is the source? Is this Dominos?”

Dominos was what Dani called one of her most valuable informants in Angelino’s organization. She had met him during a story she had done about Angelino allegedly baking some competitor in a pizza oven. He saw himself as a budding Henry Hill. He figured he would star in his own version of
Good Fellows
one day. As he moved up in the family, he had reached out to Dani, feeding her information on a regular basis with the idea of being a star. He already had an agent and a publicist lined up.

“No. He’s been reliable in the past but this one is way out of his league. I’d want to check farther before I went to air.”

“God, you aren’t thinking about putting this on the air?”

“Not yet,” Dani said, noncommittally. “I’d give you guys a chance at him first because Angelino would never let him get away. And from what my guy says, this cop has done some major damage.”

“How high we talking, Boss?” Davis asked.

Mann shrugged and Dani answered. “Definitely above the rank of my boyfriend here. That’s the only reason I figured I could trust him.”

Mann could see that Davis was considering his nephew. “And to answer your question,” Mann said, “I’ve been wondering if it’s the same guy that screwed Degget.”

“Any thoughts?” Davis asked Dani. “You got anything approaching a name?”

Dani shook her head. “The only thing I got was that Angelino call him ‘My Tom Dick’.”

Mann could hear Angelino, talking in his thick accent. “My Tom Dick,” he repeated in a passable impersonation.

Ruby looked puzzled. “What does that mean?”

“Dunno. That’s what my snitch said,” Dani answered. “Maybe it is something to do with Dick Tracey.”

“Or,” Davis said, “maybe the guy is a detective.”

“Nope,” Dani said. “My source says he outranks a lieutenant, let alone a mere Detective.”

“Maybe,” Ruby said slowly, “he meant
tame
dick, not tom dick.”

“Could be. My snitch definitely said ‘Tom’ but he might have heard it wrong. Tame Dick makes sense.”

“If Angelino has a pipeline, someone really up there, we’ve got to plug the leak,” Davis said.

“And, if he was high enough, we might be able to turn him. It would all depend on how it was handled. It would have to be handled very quietly. If his name ever hit the tube, he’d be dead meat,” Mann said, looking hard at Dani.

“If it’s the guy that turned in Cliff, then good riddance to him,” Ruby said.

“I mean, someone that could put us into Angelino’s organization?” Mann said, ignoring Ruby with a far away look on his face.

“We could do some damage of our own for a change,” Davis agreed.

Mann looked at his friend, a gleam now in his eye. “Some major pay back.”

“We have to get this guy, Gregg,” Davis said, his eyes burning. “I need to do some looking.”

Mann knew that Davis was going to be investigating right along with his nephew. “Just be careful and keep me in the loop,” Mann said. “Force is going to hell.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Andrea Seymour, actress extraordinaire. The District beckons and future Tony awards are currently being engraved with her name.”

The seven sitting around the table in the small restaurant applauded while Andrea stood and did an exaggerated bow. Her long blonde hair flopped forward onto the table and then snapped back as she straightened – a move she had practiced since she was eight. Andrea’s face was glowing, her straight white teeth shining. She threw small kisses to her friends around the table and then pulled herself to her full height. Her nose high in the air, she addressed her adoring fans.

“Please, please, don’t stop. The first thing a true
Star
learns is to talk over the applause. I want to thank all the little people for getting out of my way. I want to thank the director for his obvious wisdom and good taste. Finally, I want you all to know that, once I have my enormous mansion on the Bluffs, you are all welcome there. I’ll need maids, butlers, a good chauffeur – feel free to leave your resume with the guard at the gate.”

Andrea collapsed in her chair, laughing and breathless. Her friends applauded her again and a scattering of applause came from the other tables. She noticed several faces she knew from the endless auditions. Each of them could easily have been her. Every one of them had a life outside of the theatre and every one of them would toss it aside for the chance she was being given. All the usual professions were all represented here – servers, secretaries and dishwashers, and some less reputable and unusual ones. They all had the same dream. Tonight, she was the winner. Tomorrow, who knew?

Andrea settled farther into her chair. The excitement was finally hitting her. Today had been a whirlwind. Her friends, always ready to celebrate another’s success no matter how depressing their own lives, talked and laughed, enjoying her moment. She pulled her chair back slightly from the table. Outside of the circle of revelry, she relaxed and caught her breath.

She could see out the window into the street. The sidewalk was beginning to fill as the theatres began to empty. Nice suits and fashionable dresses paraded by. There were no furs or truly expensive jewelry. No stretch limos, mostly sub compacts or mini-vans. Though physically close by, this was not The District. This was Leantown.

But tonight, for her, it was Broadway.

*

He had seen her flip her long, blonde hair – straight, combed and shiny. So much like bloody Sheila.

She didn’t dress as well as she once had. In fact, Sheila wouldn’t have been caught dead in those clothes when she was living on daddy’s money.

He wondered if she still had the bright cherry red convertible with the sparkling white interior. The interior was so white it blinded you in direct sunlight.

That was Sheila. She lived to be clean. Not only were her clothes the best and her car the best, she had to be the best. She had to be perfectly groomed. Everything was scrubbed, pressed, combed, plucked and straightened. In all those years of High School, he had never seen her dirty.

She was obsessive about being clean. She was compulsive to the point that she needed mental help. But rich people were never considered strange or mentally unbalanced. Not like him. She was just neat.

The car was always as clean as she was. It was perfect. Cleaned every day by daddy’s paid help. The driver’s side door held the final insult. Her name was painted in white, flowing script. Everybody knew Sheila’s car. Back then, he had recognized it as soon as he rounded the corner on his bike.

*

The car was at the side of the road and Sheila was grinding the engine. Over and over, she turned the key, trying to make the engine catch.

The day was already warm even though it was only eight thirty in the morning. The top was down and he could see two of her girlfriends in the back seat. They were the current
IN
crop – only the best in the school ever got to ride with Sheila.

For a moment, he considered making a fast turn and going a block out of his way. He was already late, very late. When he had left, he had known that he would have to ride like the wind to be there on time. If he took time to help them, he would be late for sure. He should just turn back. He would only loose a couple of seconds.

He couldn’t, though. All the pain that Sheila and her friends had caused him and still he couldn’t turn away. His mother had drilled her strong beliefs in him. They were heading for the same place and would be even later if they had to walk. You don’t leave people in trouble. Even people who hate you.

He squeezed the brakes. The front wheel wobbled and he let off slightly. He was late and had been really moving. He got the bike under control and coasted to a stop next to the driver’s side. He could see the flowing script and in his gut knew he had made a mistake.

Then, Sheila saw him and her whole face brightened. She gave him such a devastating smile that his doubts vanished.

“God, am I ever glad to see you. I’m going to be late. Could you help me?”

Her voice was so genuine. He could almost believe that she was glad to see him. He dragged his bike over to the boulevard. “Pop the hood and I’ll see what I can do.”

Hidden behind the hood, he glanced at his watch. He was going to be real late now. He could smell the strong stench of the gas. Sheila had flooded the engine. He took the air filter off and used his finger to pry up the butterfly. The fumes from the gas hit him and he felt himself swoon in the heat.

“Turn the key but don’t step on the gas,” he called.

It took a couple of seconds but the engine finally coughed to life. He quickly replaced the air filter and carefully closed the hood. He went around to talk to Sheila.