Crescent City Detective

by Vito Zuppardo

  Mario finished his report and placed it in one of those interoffice envelopes. Then he walked over to the chief’s secretary's desk and put it in a basket labeled incoming mail. The chief had a lot of reading to catch up on, based on the overflowing basket.

  Across the room, Truman waved the phone at Mario, indicating there was a call for him. When he got closer, Truman handed him the phone, and he mouthed, It’s the chief.

  The chief wanted to meet him at a little coffee shop on Royal Street next to District Eight Police Station. Mario looked at his watch. He had two hours before he had to pick up Kate. He couldn’t be late, not tonight—it was too important. The chief assured him it wouldn’t take long, so he gathered his keys and radio and headed out, but not without grumbling to himself, “Of all the days, now the chief wants to chit-chat over coffee.”

  Mario drove up Bourbon Street, flipped over to Royal Street, and pulled up in front of the Royal Coffee Café.

  In the rear of the coffee shop, there was one table that gave some privacy, and the chief sat facing the door. She spotted Mario when he came through the front entrance and gave a wave of her hand. He maneuvered through the busy coffee shop, dodging people with lattes in their hands and tourists with their faces fixed on French Quarters maps, probably planning their next historical stop.

  Mario reached the table and realized Chief Parks was sitting with Nicole Morris, the recently appointed Commander of District Eight. He had known her before they both made detective many years ago. Shortly after making detective, Mario transferred to the Broad Street precinct. Some said it was because they were dating. He said because he wanted more opportunities for advancement and joined the Gang Enforcement on Broad Street. The truth of the matter, Mario told his closest friends, was that they never really hit it off and she was too clingy after only a few dates. He saw the handwriting on the wall from early on, and to get her out of his life, he transferred.

  “Mario, you know Commander Nicole Morris,” the chief announced.

  “I sure do,” he said, extending his hand. “And congratulations.”

  “On what?” Morris asked.

  “Making commander.”

  “There is a cutoff time for congratulations. I made commander eighteen months ago.”

  “Really? Time does fly,” Mario said, taking a seat.

  Nicole shot Mario a look, and while there probably was never any love between them, there was some dislike still hanging around. With no hesitation, she asked her first question. That’s when Mario realized Nicole called the meeting and used the chief as a buffer. He felt ambushed and pissed off but didn’t understand what she could want from him.

  Nicole opened a notepad where she had some questions listed. She asked Mario how well did he know the Cornerview Gang. He wanted to say “enough to kill them all.” Her real point of interest was that she’d heard he had an informant that penetrated the Cornerview Gang’s trust.

  Mario looked at his watch then at the chief. “Why is she not talking to her Gang Enforcement captain? I’ve been out of the gang business for several years.”

  Parks reached over and held Mario’s arm. “Hear her out.”

  Commander Morris admitted she had inherited a few corrupt cops in her precinct that oversaw the Gang Enforcement Division. Things got leaked out—Cornerview guys were one step ahead of the police. Nicole talked from her heart cop to cop and wanted his help. The chief thought it would be a good idea for someone from a different precinct to help—especially a police officer that worked for years in Gang Enforcement. Mario was the chosen cop to assist.

  She made a crazy observation as many did years earlier when the Internet was introduced, that people thought it was a fad. It wasn’t, and with it came new types of crime, and she firmly believed the Cornerview Gang was running a cyber hustle, and wanted Mario's help.

  Mario puckered his lips. “Wow! Didn’t think those knuckleheads were smart enough. An Internet hustle?”

  “They're not,” Nicole said, taking a sip of her coffee. “The gang has been recruited.”

  Mario looked at his watch again. It was five p.m. “Recruited? By whom?”

  “We don’t know. Chinese, Russians, some geek that dropped out of school.”

  “What’s the scam?” Mario was intrigued and leaned closer.

  Chief Parks winked at Nicole as if to say, You see? I told you he would be interested.

  Nicole described the most recent issue several restaurants were having at peak rush hours. The Geek slowed the Internet speed down to a crawl. Food orders to the kitchen and customer closeout checks for dinner that generally took seconds to run now took fifteen minutes to process. People were pissed, and some would leave without paying, while others, just dissatisfied, may never return. The next morning, a Cornerview guy showed up and told the owner it took a long time for him to get his order and bill the night before. The scammer's explanation was too many people were using the Internet at the same time. As an Internet programmer, he could correct the problem, something the owner's cable provider couldn’t do for their customers or instead chose not to because of cost. The scammer could solve this problem for four hundred dollars a month, and the restaurant owner could have an edge on his competition.

  Several didn’t buy into the scam and called their provider. No problems were found, but the next day system slowed up again during peak lunch and dinner time.

  Once the restaurant owner paid up, it became business as usual. No interruptions. All indications pointed to someone tapping into the restaurant's router and slowing the Internet speed down to move at a snail's pace. All Commander Morris knew at this time was that there was some computer geek that had hired the Cornerview Gang to be their muscle.

  Mario looked at his watch again. It was 5:20 p.m.

  “What the hell, Detective? You have looked at your watch three times since you sat

  down,” Commander Morris said.

  “I know. I have an appointment I can’t be late for.”

  She closed her notepad. “Get out of here. It sounds like you’re late for a date.”

  “I’ll let you know if I hear anything,” Mario said, standing. “I’ve got someone close to the gang’s inner circle.”

  Nicole shook Mario’s hand and gave a smile, which he didn’t reciprocate

  “Chief, it’s been a pleasure,” he said as he rolled his eyes at her and walked to the door.

  The French Quarter was crowded with tourists, people getting off work, and waiters going to work for the dinner rush. Most people got dropped off several blocks away and walked, and others ride bicycles. A significant part of Royal and Bourbon Street was closed to car traffic that time of day. Walking from a drop-off point was faster, as many selected to do.

  Some compared the French Quarter of New Orleans to casinos in Las Vegas. The towns never slept. When jazz clubs were closing in the early morning, bakery and café workers were starting a new day.

  Standing by his car, Mario observed the area this time, not like a detective. Looking

  around, it brought back memories from when he used to go to his grandfather’s business only a few buildings down. In the early days, Mardi Gras parades passed down Royal Street. Mario and his family stood for hours waiting for the parade to pass just to catch some beads you could buy at any souvenir shop. That was many years ago and a much simpler time. He let out a sigh and glanced once more at the area he’d stood at as a kid when the police motorcycles, fire trucks, school bands and floats passed during the Mardi Gras season. It was those memories that helped him slow down and enjoy life. Unfortunately, the pleasure was short-lived.

  He drove up to Royal Street and stopped at the corner and waited for a police officer to move the barricades. Mario gave a wave, and the officer gave a nod of his head as the car pulled away. There wasn’t much time to get to Kate’s parents’ house, and he still had to park his car at his condo and meet with Howard. With the help of his overhead flashers and a few hits of the siren, he got through the French Qu
arter quick and was soon in his reserved parking space in front of his condo building.

  Howard sat in his limousine ready to take him to pick up Kate, as promised. Mario had to make this dinner special, and riding in a police car for a date wasn’t the most romantic way to win Kate’s heart back.

  Mario got in the back seat of the limousine. “Howard, thanks again.”

  “My pleasure, sir,” he said, turning and looking through the glass divider. “I know it’s an important night for you and Kate.”

  Mario smiled and nodded his head. “I’m nervous.”

  It took long enough for Mario to knock down one cocktail in the back seat before arriving at the Saint Charles Avenue home. Mario gently knocked on the door, and Amelia answered. While she smiled and gave him a hug, the detective in him saw the sadness in her eyes. After a little small talk with the Fontenots, Kate came down the steps looking as beautiful as ever. The scars on her neck were disguised by a green Kelly silk scarf and a stand-up collar on her white blouse.

  “Great to see you, Kate,” Mario said. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you. Sorry I’m late. Sometimes it takes me longer to get dressed than expected.”

  Mario gave her a kiss on the cheek and extended his hand as they walked to the door.

  “Nice seeing you,” he said, shaking hands with the Fontenots and giving Amelia a nod of his head. It was hard for Mario to even acknowledge the Fontenots, knowing they hated him and wished him out of their life. It was a charade to keep peace with Kate and her family.

  In the limousine, Howard had a bottle of champagne iced down and open, with two glasses poured. Howard held the door open while Mario and Kate slipped into the back seat.

  “Where are we heading, sir?” Howard said in his utmost heaviest accent.

  “Howard?” Kate said, making an offensive face. “You spoke very clearly when you escorted me home this morning.”

  “That was Howard, the enforcer,” he said, getting into the driver’s seat. “Tonight I’m Howard, the whimsical limousine driver. So I’ll ask again. Where to, sir?”

  “The Mardi Gras fountain on the lakefront,” Mario said, hoping to silence the quarreling between them.

  “Cheerio, mate,” Howard said, looking through the rearview mirror for a reaction from Kate. “Come on, Kate. You know that is bloody funny!”

  She couldn’t hold it in any longer and gave up a smile. “Very well. Pip, pip, and cheerio,” Kate said in her best British accent.

  “That’s close enough, Ms. Kate,” Howard said, giving Mario a wink of his eye.

  They enjoyed champagne while Howard took the scenic route to the lakefront area. Canal Street ran from the Mississippi River and turned into Canal Boulevard ending at Lake Pontchartrain. The fountain was built back in 1962 and was a favorite night spot for all ages. Dancing geysers shot water thirty feet into the air and at night were illuminated in purple, green, and gold.

  They both spotted the fountain lights a block away and stood through the sunroof to get a better view. It was a perfect plan, and it worked to Mario’s expectations. He wanted a little icebreaker before heading to dinner and sitting across from each other. This was picture-perfect.

  “Wow!” Kate said. “I haven’t been out here in years.”

  “That’s the problem with locals,” Howard said. “We don’t take the time to enjoy our city. It’s relaxing just watching the colors change and the water splash into the pool.”

  They got out the car and strolled down the walkway around the fountain, making comments on the landscaping and doing anything to avoid talking about the real issue.

  He gave her hand a squeeze, and they both stopped and took a seat on a bench. The lights changed from purple to green and then gold, lasting about twenty seconds on each color and then started all over again. From speakers hidden by landscape bushes came music played by a violinist, giving the otherwise normal setting a romantic atmosphere. Mario watched a few cycles of the lights and listened intensely to the violins hitting high-pitched notes. At that moment, he took Kate’s hand.

  “You know I love you, and will always protect you.”

  Kate put her finger to his lips. “Let's just enjoy the lights, music, and peacefulness.”

  That wasn’t what he wanted to hear. But what did sound off was Howard tapping the horn indicating it was time to head to the restaurant.

  “We better be going,” Mario said.

  “This was enjoyable,” Kate said. “And thoughtful.”

  They walked back to the limousine hand in hand, both feeling a little uneasy.

  CHAPTER 42

  The limousine parked in a freight zone not enforced at night. Howard opened the rear door and took Kate’s hand, helping her out the car. Mario walked hand in hand with Kate inside the busy upscale riverfront mall. It was once an old beer brewery now converted with New York style boutiques and excellent restaurants. Howard rushed ahead and held the elevator door open for them. They stepped in, and Howard followed. The doors closed and it wasn’t well lit, but turned into a beautiful view of the Mississippi River as the glass-enclosed elevator climbed to the fourth floor.

  “I didn’t know this was going to be a threesome?” Kate whispered to Mario.

  Mario smiled. “He’s giving you the VIP treatment, walking us to the restaurant.”

  Kate was smart and knew security wasn’t a bad idea after what had happened, and it allowed Mario to focus his attention on her.

  “What a view,” Mario said, eager to ease her tension of needing security.

  The elevator doors opened, and they landed at the entrance of Provence Grill, a new French Restaurant newspaper and magazine critics were raving about—and rightfully so. Howard disappeared, out of sight but not too far that he couldn’t watch over Mario and Kate—hopefully, a service not needed.

  The owner of Provence Grill had a few restaurants around town, but this was by far the most elegant investment he’d made in the city. Flying to Paris for interior and exterior ideas and reproducing the atmosphere of a cobblestone street leading to the entrance was a bright idea. It cost a fortune, but was very impressive and excited the patrons entering.

  They emerged into a room lit by sparkling lights in the ceiling and a wall of floor-to-ceiling glass windows with a breathtaking view.

  A man dressed in a tuxedo greeted Mario by name and kissed Kate’s hand, then walked them to a table overlooking the city and river. It was a magnificent view, just the way Mario had planned.

  Mario ordered a bottle of wine, and a smile from Kate indicated approval of a Joseph Drouhin, Pouilly Fuisse.

  “I’ll ice it down, sir,” the waiter said.

  “Excellent choice,” Kate said, patting Mario’s hand. “Lucky guess, or did you do your homework?”

  “I’m a detective—I observe. A few weeks ago during dinner at your parents’ home, you said wine tasting was one of the best parts of your trip to Paris.”

  “Wow, Detective. I’m impressed.”

  “The winery was near the Notre-Dame Church, and your father ships a case at a time.” Mario paused and smiled. “I hope the wine brings back memories of happier times.”

  Kate was emotionally speechless, and luckily the waiter returned with the wine before she started bawling.

  The wine was placed in a silver bucket on the side of the table, and they were asked by the waiter, “Who will be doing the wine tasting?”

  Mario pointed. “Kate’s the expert.”

  “Drinking a lot of wine doesn’t make me an expert,” she said with a laugh.

  The waiter poured a generous amount of wine for tasting in her glass. She took in the tantalizing aroma, giving the glass a swirl, then took a sip, allowing the wine to roll over her tongue, held it for a moment, savoring the scent, and then swallowed.

  “Perfect temperature and the taste is excellent.”

  A half glass of wine was poured and placed in front of both of them as the waiter ran through the chef’s dinner specials of the
night. They both went with the waiter’s recommendation.

  Mario lifted his glass and Kate joined him. “To a delightful night.”

  A tear ran down Kate’s face. She had wrestled with her emotions since sitting down. For now, she was going to enjoy the moment.

  Mario saw she had been anxious from the time they walked into the restaurant, more than he had anticipated. His focus was on Kate and whatever it took to make this an unforgettable evening.

  Once again they were saved by the waiter placing hot freshly baked bread and three small balls of butter, all individually infused with garlic, maple syrup, and sweet basil.

  “What happened to the days when butter was butter?” Mario said, trying to change the mood back to the fun-loving Kate he knew so well.

  “You outdid yourself, Mario,” Kate said, taking in the view of nicely dressed people nestled around tables drinking fancy cocktails.

  There were familiar faces from the business community, the antique galleries, and politicians scattered the room. It was the place to be seen, for sure.

  “Somehow, it all came together,” he said.

  “I’ll say so. A limousine, the wine, the perfect table, and a restaurant that reminds me that I’m back in Paris.”

  “Well, if it does all that, it’s well worth the money,” Mario said with a pleasant smile.

  Their salad was served on a cold plate, perfectly arranged with fresh vegetables on top of romaine lettuce with just the right amount of feta cheese and croutons, and each of them was given a chilled fork. Kate smiled and thanked the waiter for the beautiful presentation.

  Mario watched her face, smile, and lips as she spoke. He was in love with her more than ever. They were finally in a safe zone, both in body and mind, to enjoy herself.

  “You’re up to playing?” Mario asked.

  Kate smiled. “Sure.”