Steel Town

by Richard Whitten Barnes

  “Of course.”

  “I looked in his office. If that was his business, he’d have work orders, parts receipts, boxes of parts, all manner of the work process going on. That place was as sterile and uncluttered as an x-ray lab. We need to see what’s going on in there.”

  “Worth a try, but I doubt it. If you want to, it’s yours to write up. Me…I’m going back on the prowl in Steelton.

  ~ * ~

  “You’ve got something on your mind,” Andy said to Kevin Campbell. They’d again met at the restaurant on Bruce Street for dinner, spending the time talking more about their past lives. Andy opened up about the disaster of her early marriage while at university, and Campbell about his scrimping through undergrad and med school after growing up in Edmonton.

  He swirled an after-dinner brandy in its snifter and considered how to answer. “I think I’m getting a little too involved with that young couple we talked about at lunch today. Or I should say the little boy that wound up in their care.”

  “Go on,” Andy said.

  “There’s this policeman that’s contacted me, asking questions about them.”

  “Who?”

  “His name is Riccia, and I think he’s thinking of charging Eddie Hoyne with kidnapping.”

  Andy knew Joe Riccia of the Sault police. A real pro. He wouldn’t be making frivolous charges. She told Campbell that.

  He shrugged. “I’m convinced Eddie didn’t do anything wrong except for lending his car to his boss. If anything, it’s not being totally honest about what his boss does for a living, and even there, he’s suggested drugs are involved.”

  “Yes, we were at the place today. I’m in the process of writing up a request for a warrant to search the premises. The man’s name is Savos. I checked his priors. He’s got only minor convictions, although a few arrests for assault that have been either dropped or excused, all here in Sault Ste. Marie.”

  “So, if this man Savos is involved in something shady and borrowed Hoyne’s car the day the boy went missing, what was he doing at the home of the boy’s father?”

  “You’re right. You’re getting too involved in all this. But you ask a good question. Let me follow this up.”

  Campbell downed the last of his brandy. “Right. My only concern now is the little boy. He’s definitely on the autistic spectrum. He needs continuous professional counseling and a safe home environment.”

  “Don’t you have enough to do?” Andy said. “Your work with the opioid crisis—”

  “…is pretty much done. I was contracted to conduct a series of seminars for the Social Services staff here. This thing with the young boy is personal. I think he needs to be fostered after my talking about his home environment with the social worker who helped return him and with the boy, himself.”

  “Have you been to the home?”

  “Just to the door. I’m not a social worker. I have no credentials to do more. What I can do is testify in the event of a hearing on behalf of the boy’s interest. They’ve asked me to do so, and I’ve agreed.”

  Andy said, “I take it you’re pretty much in that young couple’s corner.”

  “Eddy and Marly? Yes. Both have had a rough start in life. They’re good for each other. They deserve a break. I hope your friend Riccia doesn’t get too ambitious.”

  Andy smiled at the thought of Campbell’s concern. “You’re really a softy, aren’t you?”

  He was signing the tab and didn’t respond but said, “Thanks for listening to my tale of woe.”

  They walked out into the chilly night. “Your tale of woe gives me some things to think about.”

  He turned to her when they reached the car. “Think about this.”

  The kiss was chaste at first, then warmed.

  Andy was surprised…not at the kiss, but how nice it felt. How long had it been since she’d kissed someone like that other than…she forced Grant Stacey from her mind.

  Twenty-seven

  Terry was there at his desk grinning like a Cheshire cat when Andy arrived from her weekly hockey pickup game the next morning.

  “All right, what is it?” she said, knowing he was bursting to tell her something.

  “Nothing…just that I was right, and you were wrong.”

  “First time for everything. What is it?”

  “How’s that ITO for your warrant coming along?”

  “Almost finished. Come on, get to the point.”

  Terry pushed his cell phone across his desk for Andy to take. There was an image on the screen.

  Andy took it and immediately understood the cause of Terry’s grinning face. It was a picture of a blue pickup truck in a parking lot. Pulled up next to it facing the opposite direction so the drivers could converse was a red and white Chevrolet Corvette.

  “You found and tailed Hobbs’ truck!”

  “And?”

  “The Corvette from Savos’ garage. You’re right. I need to amend that ITO.”

  “Ya think? Hobbs, who we know has been roughing up the competition and who we’re pretty sure is the guy pushing the high-quality fentanyl, is somehow connected to the same guy we were trying to bust yesterday.”

  “Only trouble is,” Andy said, “who is supplying who, if that’s what’s happening in that photo…the Corvette to the blue truck or the other way around?”

  “Either way, we have a solid argument for a warrant.” Terry retrieved his phone and looked lovingly at the image.

  ~ * ~

  It had taken the rest of the day, but the warrant to search Savos Custom Auto was issued.

  The next morning, Arnold Terry was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, parked a half block away, waiting for two squad cars and a K-9 van to get settled on either side of the Corvette.

  They watched as three uniforms entered, two of them returning five minutes later with Savos in tow, but unfettered. Instructions were for him to be taken in for questioning using force only if necessary.

  Once the car holding Savos was away, Andy said, “Let’s go!” At the same time, two officers from the second squad car joined one from the van who was accompanied by a German Shepherd whom the force knew affectionately as Heide.

  “Any problems?” Terry asked Tony Crucianni, one of the constables and still holding a copy of the warrant.

  “Just some lip…he went easily enough.”

  Andy was pleased Tony was on the detail. A seasoned cop, she knew he could handle almost any situation.

  “How do you want to handle this?” he asked.

  “First, let’s establish any evidence that this place is what it purports to be…a working body shop. Detective Terry and I will be poring over office records while Heide does her thing looking for drugs.”

  They were there for little over an hour, coming up with nothing overly incriminating. What they did not find was as Andy and Terry had suspected. If Savos Custom Auto had ever done work there, the tools of the trade were long gone.

  A search of the office records came up with nothing more than bills for heat, electric, some building maintenance and rent; only a few invoices for “work done” showing no detailed itemization.

  The dog who had been trained to sit immediately when she came upon any opium or cannabis-based drug, did so twice inside the office enclosure. In both cases, a file cabinet and a desk drawer, nothing was there.

  “Something’s been there!” Heide’s handler assured. “Must have been cleaned out, and recently.”

  “We tipped our hand,” Andy said. “He’s gotten rid of any evidence.”

  “Not that laptop,” Terry said. “Bag it,” this to Crucianni who had an evidence bag at the ready.

  Andy said, “At this point, we have no idea whether he’s a big or little player in the fentanyl trade, but I’m willing to bet he’s in it up to his ears.”

  “Shit,” Terry muttered with a sigh. “Okay, let’s get his phone records…find out who his friends are.” He motioned toward the door. “C’mon, Blake. That’s gotta be our next move.”r />
  ~ * ~

  By early afternoon they had compiled and investigated a record of Nicholas Savos’ land line and cell phone calls, both in and outgoing. Perhaps ten percent were to Michigan, all abruptly ending two weeks earlier. Those had all been outgoing to numbers for nameless accounts…probably throwaway cell phones

  The domestic calls were to benign locations: take-out restaurants, filling stations, public phones, and yes, unlisted cellphones. Only one seemed worth a follow-up: an incoming call from a local number. Dalco Corp. Andy dialed the number and got a woman’s cheery voice.

  “Dalco, how can we assist you today?”

  Andy identified herself. “I’m wondering what kind of business this is.”

  “We’re property developers, Officer.”

  “Any record of doing business with Savos Custom Auto?”

  “I don’t recall. If you can hold just a second, I’ll check my files.”

  Andy waited until she soon returned on the line. “Nothing, neither in my files nor my phone list. Sorry.”

  Andy thanked the woman and clicked off. It was odd. The record had shown the call from Dalco had lasted over a minute. Too long for a wrong number. It was time stamped 8:47 pm. Who’s working at a quarter to nine at night? She filed the incident away.

  “The guy is obviously into something bogus,” Terry said after overhearing Andy’s side of the phone call. “We just don’t know what, how or with whom…other than with our friend in the blue truck.”

  “We’re getting close,” Andy said. “I can smell it.”

  Her phone buzzed. KEVIN CAMPBELL displayed.

  “Kevin,” she answered.

  “Andy, Eddie Hoyne was arrested. Well, not arrested maybe, but taken in for questioning.”

  “Who arrested him?”

  “City cops, I think.”

  “Okay, thanks,” she said. “Sit tight. I’ll see what I can find out.”

  She told Terry what Campbell had said. And dialed a number from memory, asking for Detective Riccia.

  “Joe? Andy Blake. Yeah, I’m good. Listen, you lads have a young guy in custody named Hoyne. Can you tell me what that’s all about?”

  She listened while her counterpart in the Sault PD explained, then disconnected.

  Terry said, “What’s our buddy Giuseppe Riccia’s interest in all this?”

  “He was the lead investigator in the Urban ‘kidnapping’ case. He thinks there’s something fishy about how this boy went missing. Not sure what it all means, but wants to close some gaping holes. Social Services told him about Eddie Hoyne and the girl. Urban doesn’t think things add up, because Urban denies knowing Hoyne. He says Hoyne has been released but wonders why it took him so long to return the kid. He knows about Hoyne having some sort of connection with Nick Savos, but not what. You know Joe: a dog with a bone!”

  Terry nodded agreement.

  “Anyway, Joe had him, and we’ve been looking for him. Think I’ll trot over and see him; share what we know about Savos and his possible connection with Hobbs.”

  “Do that,” Terry said. He returned his glasses from forehead to nose. “I’m going to see what our guys found on Savos’ laptop.”

  Twenty-eight

  Campbell’s Audi sedan was parked in front of Eddie Hoyne’s house when Andy arrived. Her knock was answered by Marly Quinn. Inside, Kevin was seated next to an unfamiliar middle-aged woman. Across sat Hoyne, obviously upset about something.

  Introductions were made. It turned out the woman was Mrs. Margaret Bryant, a social worker assigned to investigate Joey Urban’s welfare.

  At issue was the best interest for Joey in the event, as Eddie, Marly and the social worker agreed, the boy should be removed from the home.

  “That can only be determined by a family court,” Bryant was saying, “and I’m afraid you do not make the greatest witness on the boy’s behalf.”

  Andy broke in. “Hold it, please. Can you bring me up to date here?”

  Campbell said, “I’ve asked Detective Blake for advice on this matter from the perspective of the law.”

  Andy clarified. “I have interests in Mr. Hoyne’s involvement for other reasons. But please, what is this about taking the Urban boy from his home?”

  Bryant explained how she had interviewed Dale Urban, the boy’s father, and a Mrs. Sophia Pearl, a neighbor and hired sitter for the boy. Both resulted in a troubling picture of the environment.

  “Outside of the fact that the mother is not part of the family unit, the father’s attitude toward the boy’s behavior is appalling. The sitter describes the atmosphere in the home as toxic. He is away much of the time, and when he is home, he spends a little time interacting with his son as possible. I’m afraid the only order a court could render is some sort of special institutionalized schooling for the boy.”

  That brought on a prolonged outburst from Eddie ending with, “Joey’s not crazy! We could keep him!”

  Andy saw disdain in the social worker’s eyes and understood why. This unmarried couple living in a shabby house hardly looked responsible: the girl with her bright blue-streaked hair, and lip stud, Eddie in his worn down sneakers and unkempt hair under a soiled Blue Jay ball cap.

  “That would be out of the question, I’m sure,” Bryant said.

  Again, Andy commented. “Tell me, Mr. Hoyne. Do you have any business dealings with Nicholas Savos? Because if you do, that alone would potentially prevent you from having any contact with that boy.”

  Eddie looked stricken. He turned to Campbell, as if pleading for help.

  Campbell put a hand on Eddie’s shoulder as he talked. “Eddie’s a good man. He’s had some issues with prescription drugs, but since his association with Marly here, he’s straightened himself out. Marly’s parents have had success raising a son with similar behavior as Joey Urban. They haven’t agreed but are considering fostering a boy like Joey.” He glanced at Marly, who did not react. “I’ve agreed to testify as an expert witness if such a case were to go to court.”

  That seemed to placate Bryant, who folded her notebook and stood. “Well then, Kevin. That’s all we can accomplish for now. If you don’t mind, I need to get back.”

  “Of course.” He began to follow, looking back to Andy.

  “I think I have some more questions for Mr. Hoyne,” Andy said. She watched the pair head for Campbell’s car, then turned to Eddie who was pacing, his fists thrust deep into his jeans pockets.

  “Mr. Hoyne. May I call you Eddie?”

  He nodded a sullen acceptance.

  “You admitted to Dr. Campbell and Detective Riccia that it was your car the boy hid in while running away.”

  Eddie sighed “Yeah?” Marly moved to him, holding his arm possessively.

  “My interest in all of this is quite different from Detective Riccia’s. I think you loaned your car to Mr. Savos because you were employed by him.”

  “He was just working off a debt!” Marly said. “It wasn’t a real job.”

  Andy persisted. “It doesn’t matter. You knew Savos was distributing drugs.”

  Eddie muttered something.

  “I didn’t hear that.” Andy said.

  “Yes!” Marly almost shouted. “Savos is a creep! Eddie didn’t have a choice, or that goon would have killed him!”

  “Savos?”

  “No!” Eddie said. “His trained gorilla, Teach!”

  “Teach,” Andy repeated. Raymond Hobbs, alias Teacher. “What did this man do for Savos?”

  Eddie shrugged. “Besides threatening the hell out of me, I suppose he was Nick’s enforcer.”

  “Be very clear here, Eddie. What and whom did he enforce?”

  Eddie hesitated.

  “Oh, for God’s sake!” Marly exclaimed. “Drugs! What do you think?”

  “Eddie?” Andy insisted.

  “Yeah.” His eyes were everywhere but on Andy’s. “As kids, we always knew Nick was into it.”

  Again, Marly came to Eddie’s defense. “He didn’t have a—”


  “It’s okay!” Andy waved Marly off. “I’m not interested in Eddie, although I can’t speak for Detective Riccia. I want to know if this man ‘Teach’ delivered drugs for Savos.”

  Eddie said, “I’m sure he used to, but he stopped coming around to the shop a few weeks ago right after a big argument they were having.”

  “You’ve been helpful…both of you.” Andy proffered a card. “Anything else you think might be helpful won’t hurt you in the long run. Give me a call, anytime. Down the line you may be summoned to testify in court. That testimony could mitigate whatever illegal involvement you might have had with Savos.”

  ~ * ~

  It wasn’t unusual for them to work weekends but they’d been on a seven-day schedule since being assigned to the opioid crisis. Earlier in the day, Roberts had insisted the pair take the day, Sunday, off in order to recharge.

  Andy gave Terry an update on her visit with Eddie Hoyne, while he gave her a rundown on the contents of Savos’ computer.

  “There’s definitely evidence of transactions of some kind going on, but he’s cleverly disguised any names. They’re identified by account number, only. Also, the dollar value of each transaction is coded in some way.”

  “So, nothing gained?” Andy asked.

  “Not quite. Our geeks tell me he’s been watching the Bitcoin market, making checks on it, at least daily.”

  “He’s getting paid in Bitcoin?”

  “Likely.”

  Andy’s cellphone buzzed. She saw it was from Kevin Campbell and took the phone out to the break room to answer.

  “Kevin!”

  “Hi. I thought maybe dinner tonight.”

  She glanced at the time. 7:45pm. “Kevin, it sounds lovely, but what sounds even better is a good night’s sleep. I’ll tell you what…tomorrow’s Sunday. Drive out to my place around noon. I’ll show you around the island and we’ll top it off with dinner.”

  Campbell was delighted. She gave him directions to her home at the foot of St. Joseph Island, wondering if she was going just a little too fast with this man.

  Twenty-nine

  The sun was Andy’s silent alarm clock, beaming through her bedroom window earlier each day at this time of year. She had tumbled into bed by ten last night and felt refreshed. She threw on a robe and headed downstairs.