Streeter Box Set

by Michael Stone

  “I don’t have to. I was about the last person to see him alive. That was right after he busted my arm.” Streeter went on to tell McLean what had happened the night before.

  “Man, that’s quite a story,” Bill said when Streeter’d finished. “But life is for the living and your living should go easier from now on. I just got off the phone with a Sergeant Haney of the Denver PD. He was working with the Englewood police on that shooting last week when Richie Moats was ambushed. Haney’s also been into Grover’s face for some time now about prostitution, drug running—you name it. Anyhow, now that Grover’s dead, Haney’s lost a lot of interest in the matter. It also seems that most of that big exposé the TV stations were running lately about Richie and Grover being hooked up together isn’t checking out very well. The whole story’s unraveling, for obvious reasons. Where the hell do those reporters get their material? So the bottom line is that about ninety-five percent of Haney’s interest died with Royals. He was the one they were all after.

  “One other thing. That Sid What’s-his-name—the one who shot himself when they ambushed Moats—well, he’s worse off than they thought. He’s still in a coma and it looks like he may die soon. The Englewood cops are still looking into that whole mess, but I think we should lie low for a while and see how they make out. There’s nothing pointing to you, and if Wahl dies, there never will be. I say we just ride it out for the time being. Maybe I’ll give Englewood a call in a couple of days.”

  “That’s fine with me. Give me a holler if you hear anything, okay?”

  “Will do. And take a rest, Street. Keep a low profile. Promise me?”

  “I’ll do the best I can.”

  Rudy sat at a table near the Cherokee’s bar thinking that this probably was the best day of his life. Grover gone forever. That was a hell of a way to start out. Now meeting Tina and being this close to getting the money and all those Quaaludes. And the file copies would soon be his again, too. Life was definitely good. He didn’t even have to cut Dexter in on a penny of it. Not that anyone had seen him in days. No sir, nothing would ever come back to haunt Rudy and he was now positioned to take over Grover’s business interests. Damned near everything had his name on it and he didn’t notice anyone lining up to claim even part of it. There still was the matter of Grover’s alleged silent partner. Rudy had never seen any hard evidence of who it was. Maybe when he got the files back he could look into that some more. But for now he was in such a good mood that he didn’t want to think about it. He even figured he’d make it easy on Tina. Maybe offer her her old job back. Lord knows he could use her now more than ever.

  Speaking of which, he looked through the crowded room and saw Ms. Gillis herself walking toward him. She was wearing a black skirt and a white sweater. Rudy had forgotten what a knockout she was. Even in the bulky sweater, he could see her breasts move like a pair of playful bobcats. And that red hair framing that drop-dead face. No wonder every man in the place shot her a glance. She’d be a hell of a piece in Fontana’s eyes if it weren’t for two things. One, she was only about ten times smarter than him. And, two, she’d made it clear in a thousand ways over the years that she’d rather live out her days in a Turkish prison than spend even one night in bed with Rudy.

  “Tina, you look lovely as ever,” he said, standing when she got to his table.

  She studied him before sitting down. Same dopey slicked-over hair, same shit-eating grin about as sincere as aluminum siding. Same old Rudy. “You, too,” was all she said, her face showing him nothing.

  “Would you care for a drink?”

  “Just iced tea.”

  He nodded and waved at a nearby waitress, who didn’t seem to notice him. Then, turning his attention back to Tina, he said, “Terrible news about Grover.”

  “I can see where you’d be pretty upset. You and Royals were like brothers.” She rolled her eyes. “Cut the crap, Rudy. At the very least you won’t have to take his guff anymore. You probably didn’t sleep last night, you were celebrating so hard.”

  She always did know the score with him. “Give me some credit, Tina. The man was my business partner for all these years.”

  “I read those files line by line.” She leaned into the table, pulling a cigarette from her purse. “You were his front man, nothing more. You’re probably in line to take over a few of his properties, but my read is that Grover had a backer. And whoever the hell that is, they’ll be coming forward any day now.”

  Rudy took a long pull from his Jack Daniel’s as the waitress finally arrived. “I’ll have another one of these,” he told her. “And the lady here will have an iced tea.” Turning back to his guest, he felt like saying, You let me worry about that. I’m the only one who knows how everything works. I’m the only one who can keep it together. Hell, I’ve been keeping my own books at home for years. I even called the hospital this morning and they told me little Sid is getting worse. This is all mine now, bitch. But what he actually said was “You might be right about that. I’ll just have to deal with whatever comes up.”

  “Look, Rudy. I’m not hungry and I have a million things to do today. Just tell me how you want to handle this and we’ll take it from there.”

  “Fair enough.” He stopped to light a cigarette. “Get me those locker keys and we’re square. That gives me the money you took and the drugs. I should be able to turn a nice profit on those ludes.” He paused for a moment. “How much cash are we talking about in the lockers?”

  Tina returned his look. She had been thinking about this number all morning. They’d already skimmed forty thousand from the pickup money and she planned on scaring Rudy out of another piece of it. But with Grover dead, she had no leverage with Rudy. But she still needed more of the money to help her father. She planned on getting the keys from Streeter and going into the money locker one more time. Then she’d pull another thirty thousand out and adjust the ledgers accordingly. All that before turning the keys over to Rudy.

  “I’m not sure I remember the exact amount anymore,” she finally answered. “Something around three hundred thousand.”

  Rudy frowned. “That’s a small load. We’ve done closer to four in the past.”

  Tina sat back and exhaled a thick plume of smoke. “We’ve also done closer to two in the past. Look, Rudy, all of Sid’s accounting is in there. If you don’t think it’s right, take it up with him.” She didn’t speak for a moment. “You know I’m going to keep the original files. Just to cover my butt.”

  “Fine by me.” He squinted slightly for sincerity. “We go back a long way and we know each other pretty well. I assume that little stunt you pulled with Richie was a fluke. Hell, I’m half tempted to hire you back. We’re a good team. But I doubt that I could ever trust you again.”

  “Whatever.” She glanced slowly around the room. The Cherokee was a large restaurant with big windows on the east and south. Lunch crowds were its main business and there was the usual waiting line at the front door and at the bar. Tina settled her gaze back on Rudy. “That bounty hunter Marty hired still has the keys to the locker. I’ll get them today. When did you want me to hand them over?”

  “The sooner the better.”

  “I’ll call you later and we can meet at the bus station tonight.” She stared at him and added, “Answer me one thing. Was that you who called Streeter and tipped him off about what Grover had in mind for me and Richie last week?”

  Rudy was startled and he blushed like he always did when he was rattled. “Of course not. Grover and I were a team. Did someone actually do that?”

  Tina shook her head and grinned. “I thought it was you. Thanks, Rudy.”

  Everyone arrived at the church closer to two-thirty than three. Their big meeting lasted all of ten minutes. Streeter and Frank sat at the desk with Marty, while Tina leaned against the credenza. The mood in the room was light if slightly strained.

  “Well, son, it looks like this should about take care of things,” Marty told Streeter after Tina filled them in on her meeting
with Rudy. “Miss Gillis here gives that little pissant a call and meets him at the bus station tonight. You’re out of it as of now.”

  Streeter looked at Tina. “It doesn’t bother you to do this yourself?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Grover was one thing, but Rudy I can handle. No point in you going down there. I’ll call him when I leave here and it should only take a few minutes tonight. We’ll probably be done by seven or seven-thirty. If he gives me any trouble, I’ll let you know.”

  “How about if I meet you down there a little ahead of time? I could keep an eye on you until everything’s over and he leaves.”

  She thought about that. Her plan was to go to the station from the church, take the extra money and fix the ledgers, then go home and call Rudy to set up a time. Having Streeter there tonight wouldn’t interfere with that. “If you’d like.” Tina stood up. She held out her hand and Streeter gave her the three keys. “I’ll call you in a couple of hours and let you know where and when to meet me.”

  “So be it,” Marty said as he stood up. “I wish you both luck.” Then he pulled a white envelope from his back pocket and handed it to Streeter. “There’s a final payment for what you’ve done for us, son. I put a nice bonus in there seeing as how you got your arm all broken. Thanks for a job well done. And tonight, stick around long enough to make sure this character gets the lockers open. Then your work is finished.”

  “That sounds about right,” Streeter said as he ran a hand gently along the swollen side of his face.

  “Maybe when Richie gets out of the hospital, we can all get together and have a little dinner,” Marty added. “On me. I spoke to the boy on the phone today and it seems he wants to come to work for me.”

  Tina perked up at that one. “He did? What else did he say?”

  Marty winked at her. “Seems he’s interested in starting a family.”

  “And what did you tell him?” she pressed.

  “I said I can manage to find him a place to get started in the business and earn a living wage for three. At least for now. Who knows where he could go from there?”

  Tina broke into a wide grin. “I’ll walk you to your car, Martin.” They moved toward the door and suddenly she stopped and turned around. “Talk to you later, Mr. Streeter.”

  When they left, Streeter turned to Frank. “Richie and Tina heading down the aisle and him working for old Marty. It’s a world gone mad.”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Rudy was torn in half as he drove to the bus station that night. His perfect day and his perfect mood had both taken a swift kick in the teeth a couple of hours earlier. The man behind the man had called him. At least he said he was the man behind Grover. And he knew enough about everything, including Richie taking Royals’s money that night in the alley, to convince Rudy that Grover’s deep partner was on the line. Silent no more and looking to make things right for himself.

  “If you think I’m going to let a clown like you keep everything in those lockers all by yourself, why hell, you’re even dumber than everyone says you are,” the man had told him. “And that don’t hardly seem possible.”

  He then went on to dictate a meeting that night at nine o’clock. Just the two of them at a truck stop north of town. Rudy thought he remembered being at the place a few years ago but he wasn’t sure. Damn, the man sounded pissed off and serious on the phone. Actually, he sounded vaguely familiar, too, although Rudy had no idea from where.

  Now, as he walked up 19th toward the bus station, his thoughts turned to the business at hand. This should take only a few minutes. Tina gives him the keys and he puts the stuff from the lockers into his car. Mr. Silent Partner might know about the cash, but Rudy couldn’t believe he’d have a clue about the Quaaludes. Rudy’d still make out fine on all this, and whoever was behind the voice on the phone, well, no way he could be half as bad as Grover Royals. A mean peckerhead like Grover only came along about once every fifty years or so. Rudy was certain of that. The man on the phone sounded heavy, but at least he was human.

  From across the street, the bounty hunter watched Rudy walk up to the south door, stop, and glance around. Slowly, Rudy looked up and down the block, his mouth open slightly, one hand casually reaching back to scratch his butt. This has to be the guy, Streeter thought. Look at that hair. Like a flat helmet or something. At the same time, Tina approached the door from the other direction. When she got there, she and Rudy talked.

  “Tina,” Rudy said as he extended his hand to be shaken, “good to see you again.”

  She ignored the hand and reached into her purse for the keys. Glancing at Rudy’s wide-flap lapels, à la Soul Train, and the twitchy way he carried himself, she said, “This should be the last time.” Then she handed over the keys, adding, “We’re being watched by a good friend of mine and we both want to go home fast. I’ll keep an eye on you to make sure you get everything and then I’m out of here.” She nodded to the station door. “Let’s get a move on. Just go open the lockers. If it all checks out, you glance back out here and give me a wave. It’ll probably take you more than one trip back to your car.”

  “You wanna give me a hand?”

  “If you waste any more of my time with your stupid questions, Rudy, I’ll call my friend over and he’ll give you the back of his hand.”

  Rudy could see she was serious, so he just nodded and headed toward the door. Once inside the station he walked through the main lobby, which was about half full of people, and made his way to locker 112-R on the opposite wall. He spotted the two locker numbers next to it that were on the other keys. He opened 112-R. The door moved slowly like the hinges needed oiling. At first he had to squint to see what was inside. The top of a large red Igloo cooler took up most of the space. He opened the locker to the right and saw a small stack of manila file folders along with two fat accordion folders, presumably with the money taken off Sid and Dexter. That brought a quick smile to his face.

  Before he opened the third locker, he wiped away a fringe of sweat from his forehead with the back of one hand. Then he pulled at the handle to the final locker and his smile widened. It contained a cooler identical to the one in 112-R. He reached out and gingerly touched the top. He turned around and saw Tina standing where he’d left her. Rudy waved quickly, his grin still in place. Spinning around slightly to face the lockers again, he groaned. This was a lot to carry three blocks to his car. So he turned his glance back to the door to wave for Tina to come in. He’d ask her again to help him carry the stuff. But when he looked, she was gone.

  Streeter took a long, hot shower the next morning. He’d slept like a dead man the night before and he wasn’t quite sure if that was Connie he had dreamed about somewhere along the line. As he made his morning coffee he decided to call the music store later and set up their date. He didn’t want to wait until his lesson that night and risk missing her. By the time his coffee was ready and he was walking downstairs, cup in hand, he was in a very good mood. No more dealing with Marty and his troubles. Get back to his usual business. And, finally, to Connie. As he walked into Frank’s office, he was ready to devote his attention to whichever bail jumpers his partner had for him.

  Frank Dazzler looked up from the morning newspaper as Streeter approached his desk. “Hey, Street. Good to see you up and around. It’s not like you, sleeping past nine-thirty.”

  “I know. I think wrapping up that business last night left me completely relaxed and drained. I haven’t slept that soundly in a long time.”

  Frank nodded but he seemed worried. His forehead was lined with concern and his mouth was puckered-up sour. “Speaking of last night, what was the name of that goof you and Tina delivered the keys to downtown?”

  “Rudy Fontana. A real winner, by the way. Why?”

  “The Commerce City police found a guy name of Rudy Fontana shot to death in a vacant lot behind some abandoned doughnut shop up there last night. I don’t suppose there could be two men by that name in a town this size.”

  Streeter reac
hed out for the paper. “You’re kidding! What time?”

  “Paper says they found him about eleven-thirty or thereabouts. They think he’d been out there a couple of hours. Shot twice in the head.” Frank handed over the Rocky Mountain News.

  Streeter studied the article on page five. There were no photographs of Rudy or the lot in which he had been found, but the police sergeant described the slaying as “execution-style.” Two slugs from a .44 Magnum in the back of the head, both at close range. The story was short and the details sketchy, and the police had no motive or suspects.

  “It says here that it looked like Fontana was shot while kneeling down. His hands were tied behind him and a handkerchief was stuffed in his mouth. They don’t have anything about Rudy’s business connection to Grover Royals,” Streeter said as he put the paper on Frank’s desk. “It’ll probably take a few days for them to figure that one out.”

  “What time did you last see him?” Dazzler asked.

  “A little after seven.”

  “Tina mention anything to you about where he was headed from there?”

  “No. And I didn’t ask. We just said goodbye and that was it.”

  “You’ve got a habit lately of being around guys just before they end up dead.”

  “Tell me about it.” Streeter sat down. “I better get together with Bill McLean one of these days and talk about that.”

  “Might be a good idea, although I can’t see how the police can tie you to this one in any way.” Frank was rocking slightly in his big swivel chair. “And they already know about you and Grover having a run-in.”

  “I know that, but they still might be sniffing into it.”

  “Marty Moats called a while ago, all upset about the story.”

  Streeter looked at his partner. “He doesn’t seem to me to be the type to get too sentimental over something like this.”

  “I know. I think he just wanted to find out what happened at the bus station. Marty was thinking how the shooting must be tied into the drugs and money Fontana was hauling around after he met you.”