When he finished his drink with Frank, the bounty hunter went up to his loft. He was too wired to go right to sleep, so he practiced his piano for nearly an hour. Finally, he started getting ready for bed. Studying his face with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth, Streeter thought about what Bosco might be up to after the Jaguar sale. Was Kostas serious when he told Ronnie that this would be Mitch’s last move before going legitimate? Would Freddy still work on old man Lucci without Bosco? Rinsing out his mouth, Streeter decided he’d worry about all that after he slept.
Before he left the mirror, he leaned forward and studied his hairline. There was a half-full bottle of minoxidil in his medicine chest, and he debated whether to put some on his scalp. That would be a chore. The liquid burned slightly and tended to roll down his face when he applied it. The directions said he must use it twice a day, every day, or it wouldn’t do any good. He’d been doing just that for about two weeks now, and he didn’t see any evidence of its working. Still, the directions specifically stated that he shouldn’t expect any growth for at least four months. Streeter shrugged and turned out the light. Walking to his room, he thought how Ronnie was right about him not having any romance going on in his life. You didn’t need a thick head of hair to be alone.
TWENTY-SIX
“Todd, I know you’re really up for coming over here, but I’m exhausted tonight,” Karen said into the receiver as she studied the middle finger of her left hand. She dabbed some blood-red polish on it and shook the hand lightly while blowing on it. Her eyes rolled slightly as she listened to Todd Janek on the other end of the line.
“It’s been three days and I’m starting to back up, if you know what I mean, Karen,” he was saying. “Besides, you’ll be glad once I get there.”
She considered that, knowing he was right. My God, she thought. He puts more effort and energy into the bedroom than into his job, and that hardly seems possible. “You might have a point, but tonight is simply not going to happen. Really, I’m beat. I had three hearings today and I have to be in court in the morning.”
“First thing?”
She hesitated. “Not right away.”
“Okay, then.” He sounded fresh and eager.
No one said anything for a moment. In the silence, Karen recalled how they’d started their affair. She also recalled having second thoughts about it immediately. Well, after the fourth time, at least. Too many margaritas after they’d finished work Friday night. My oh my, but that man did have a nice little body on him. All she wanted was a little recreational release and they ended up spending most of the weekend together. And Monday night.
“Okay, then, what?” she asked, and frowned as she set down the bottle of nail polish, concentrating fully on the call for the first time. “What we have is nice, Todd, but office romances can be killers.”
“That’s one way to look at it.” He shifted the receiver into his other hand. “Another way is that too much office work can ruin a good sex life.”
He knew her career was one of Karen’s big priorities, but, hell, he’d performed like a trained monkey when they were together and was always ready for more. Three, four times in—what?—two and a half hours, tops.
“I know we don’t have to get together tonight, but I thought you might like to,” he said. “You’re pretty special to me, Karen.”
She wasn’t sure if he meant it, but it was nice to hear. “Let’s hope so.” Then she focused on the nail of her left pinkie. “After some of the things we did to each other over the last week, let’s just hope so. But this isn’t high school. It’s the real world, Todd. You’re a nice guy and a top-flight investigator. You have my greatest respect in that department. Now, do us both a favor and let’s take it a little slower. Okay?”
Todd pulled the receiver from his ear for a moment and stared at it. He decided to back off and come at it from another direction. “We can talk about Mr. Kostas, too. I’ve got everything hooked up for tomorrow.”
Karen’s eyes widened for a second. “Really?”
“Yes ma’am.” His voice raised slightly. “First thing right after lunch I go pick up the Jaguar from the dealer. You should see that beast. Maybe about five thousand miles on it and it looks brand-new. Must go for sixty-five out of the showroom. Not a scratch on her, either. Midnight-blue.”
Karen debated whether to rework the nail on her pinkie finger but decided against it and set the bottle down. “When do you meet Mitch Bosco?”
Todd rolled his eyes at the name. He couldn’t stand Mitch the Snitch, as he referred to him.
“I told him I’d swing by and get him at about one-thirty,” Todd responded. “Then we go down to Kostas’s place and have him check out the Jag, which should be a piece of cake. If the old Greek knows jack about cars, he’ll snap this one up, no questions asked. I figure we’ll dick around with him for a couple of hours and then set up the sale for the next afternoon. We’ll shoot for noon on Saturday. I want to find out who his buyers are and when they’ll be showing up. Where he’s going to make that sale, too. Bosco told me that Kostas is unloading them shortly after we make the sale.”
Karen frowned, again looking at her nails. “Don’t press him too hard on who he’s selling to. If we come out of this with just Kostas, I’ll be happy. Getting his buyers is a bonus, but not essential. The thing you don’t want to do is ask a lot of dumb questions and scare Kostas off tomorrow.”
“First place, Karen,” he came back with a little bite in his tone, “I don’t ask dumb questions, ever. Second place, when this boob sees the quality of the product, he won’t care about anything else. We’ve got him for sure, so why not try and widen the net.” He paused. “You trust me, don’t you?”
She thought about that for a long moment. “What choice do I have at this late date?”
Todd hated it when she used that tone with him. Like he was some student intern she was barely tolerating. “That’s about right. I only hope we can trust Mitch the Snitch to hold up his end and sell Kostas on me.”
“I’ve been thinking about that, too,” Karen responded. “Before you take him over to that junkyard, Todd, you remind him that, if anything goes wrong with this sting, anything at all, he doesn’t get squat from us on Monday at his sentencing. I’ll be asking for the max, in fact.” She picked up her nail polish again, the receiver cradled in her neck, and pulled out the applicator. “I just wish there was some way we could take both of them down. I hate the idea of Bosco not having to go to jail for anything.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that, Karen,” he said. “A goof like Mitch won’t go for very long without screwing up again. I’m sure we’ll be seeing his sorry ass back in the system in no time. Karen, how much good do you think this is going to do us with the big guy?”
Karen considered that. “I’m not so sure anymore. When I first talked to the DA about this, I thought we’d be nailing someone major. But the more I know about Ted Kostas, the less impressed I am. Ditto for the boss. Let’s put it this way, Todd: We’re at a point here where, if this goes off flawlessly as planned, then we go up a small notch in esteem with the DA. If it goes down the toilet, we slip about three notches.”
“That sounds great.” His voice was flat.
“I wish I could be more optimistic, but we stand to lose more than we can gain, depending on how it comes off. That’s why we have to nail Ted Kostas on Saturday. Don’t be too concerned with who he’s selling to.” When she finished speaking, Karen nodded once as she brushed the polish on another nail.
No one spoke for a long time.
“So. Half an hour sound good?” Todd finally asked. Actually, between her reluctance and all the shop talk, he was losing interest in the visit.
“Well, we already discussed the sting.”
“Then we can concentrate on the other part.”
Karen looked away from her nails. “Give me forty-five minutes, and don’t plan on spending the night.”
Todd didn’t say anything for a long time. “Maybe
you’re right. Maybe tonight isn’t meant to happen.”
“Whatever you think is best, Todd. Just make sure and stop by my office when you’re through with Ted Kostas tomorrow.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
“I’m thinking that, after my little discussion with the D. earlier this afternoon, we’re out of the woods with all this nonsense here, Streeter.” The old man winced as his stomach recoiled from a gas pain. His entire digestive system—never the best, even during serene times—had been acting up over the last week.
“You mean to tell me that Freddy Disanto is no longer interested in your property?” Streeter looked back from across the Cheese Man’s desk late that Thursday afternoon in disbelief. He was filling Al in on what they’d learned from Ted Kostas the night before when the little man sprung the news about Freddy the D. on him. “Just like that? All the trouble he’s gone to, all the work and money he put into this deal, and now, poof, it’s magically over.”
Alphonse Lucci frowned at that and felt another jolt in his lower intestines. “What’s so hard to believe? Deals go south all the time, and him not getting my pizza joint made this one too much trouble for Disanto’s backers. Let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth here, okay?” Al thought back on the entire situation for a moment. “I tell you, I’m just going to enjoy this bit of good news. I don’t know how much more of the other kind I can take. I’m sleeping for shit at night, and I’m so wound up, well, I won’t even tell you what comes outta me when I go to the john lately. And I miss Maria so much that I’m not too sure right about now if I care whether I’m dead or alive. It’s about time this thing ends, big guy.” He paused. “I’m not saying I don’t appreciate your concern or all the trouble you been through. All I’m saying is that it’s over. Let bygones be bygones and all that kind of stuff.”
Streeter sat back and thought about it for a moment. “Exactly what did he say the people in Arizona told him?”
Little Alphonse shrugged. “The D. didn’t go into what you might call a great amount of detail over it. And I didn’t ask for much. About all he said was ‘I’m taking my offer off the table. I’m not interested in acquiring the Garlic Bulb no more.’ Words along those lines. Me, I’m sitting on the other end of the line half doing cartwheels.” He paused, smiling broadly. “Then he goes on to say that his financial backing got tired of the delay in getting the Bulb and that he is no longer connected with them in any professional capacity. Said something about them severing his management contract and buying out his end, which I gather wasn’t all that big of an investment on the D.’s part.” Al leaned toward his desk and Streeter. “Apparently, Disanto was more the front man in this thing. That’s my hunch now. It surprises me somewhat, but that’s how it is. Bottom line, Freddy’s off my case and the Bulb is no longer in play.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” Streeter shifted in his seat. “What are they going to do with what they’ve bought up already? They didn’t get those other properties over there for free, you know.”
“Course they didn’t. The D. says he figures they’ll just sell them all individually on the open market. They’ve had some of those places for over a year, and with property values on the West Side going up the way they are, they’ll make out okay. Anything they sell at a loss, well, that’s a tax write-off. You know how these big financial types operate, Streeter. They always got a angle. They’ll land on their feet. To tell the truth, it sounded to me like the Arizona boys got tired of Freddy’s bullshit. Can you blame them? I’d take a write-off myself if it meant not having to deal with him on a regular basis.”
“So now what?” Streeter sat back slightly. “You going to bring Maria back?”
“I’ve got a call in to her already.” Al stood up and began pacing slowly behind his desk. “We call off the dogs. That means your services should no longer be required, Streeter.” He paused and looked at him. “Don’t worry. You can keep whatever money’s left from what I gave you the other night. Hell, Disanto even told me he’s not going to be working with that head case Mitch Bosco no more. Said they’re parting ways.”
“He told you that?”
Al nodded wisely.
“Kostas told Ronnie last night that Mitch is getting some kind of legitimate job.”
“There you go.” Al waved a finger triumphantly at his guest. “Makes perfect sense. The D. fires Bosco because he no longer needs him to make my life hell, so Bosco gets a real job and everyone’s happy as a clam. Sometimes life works out nicely.”
Streeter studied the little man for a while. “And what about that card-game robbery? You going to just let that one slide?”
“The hell you gotta dwell on that thing for all the time?” Al frowned and shook his head violently. “Those crazy Ramirez Boys get a wild hair out their butts, so they come down here to try and score a little easy money. Woulda got away with it, too, if one of the idiots didn’t shout out Manny’s name. That robbery musta just been a coincidence, it happening then. The D. don’t know nothing about it, so it musta just been fate or whatever. Give it a rest, Streeter. No harm, no foul.”
“I don’t know, Al.” Streeter stood up now himself. “This just seems too easy. After all you’ve been through…then, out of the blue, Disanto calls and says forget about it. Just like that. Plus, how would the Ramirez Boys even know about your card game? It’s not like you put out an ad for it.”
Al moved around from behind his desk and placed a hand on Streeter’s shoulder. Actually, about as close as he could come was the big man’s chest, but he was shooting for the shoulder. “There’s plenty a people around town knew about my poker night. Word got up to Wyoming somehow. It’s not like we were a secret society or anything like that.” He lowered his tone. “Look, I appreciate all you done, Streeter. But your job’s over. Take the day off.”
Streeter stared at him for a moment and then nodded. “Have you talked to Sheri about this yet?”
The old man shook his head. “I plan on talking to her when I call Maria later. She’ll be delighted. My bet is that she comes home with Maria in the next day or two. Life’ll get back to normal and Nicky’ll get his head screwed on straight. Not a bad outcome.” He looked off for a moment. “Sheri’s been in on this deal for the Garlic Bulb from day one. Even met with Disanto and me a couple of times. You know, she made some noise all along like she’d be willing to sell the place.” He nodded once in triumph. “Guess this shows her I was right about the whole thing. The old man still knows what’s what.”
“I hope so,” Streeter said. He shook Al’s hand silently and left the office.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Mitch didn’t know how to react to the news of Freddy’s pulling out of the West Side development deal. The hell is that all about? he thought as he nursed a shot of ginger schnapps at the Satire Lounge on East Colfax Avenue shortly before five that Thursday afternoon. He took a quick pull from his Salem 100 and studied the D., who stood next to him at the bar.
“I’m telling it to you like they told it to me,” Disanto was saying without looking directly at Mitch. “That little fucker Niles what’s-his-name calls me this morning and tells me they’re pulling out. They’ve got, how did he say it, ‘We’ve got enough on our plate without worrying any further about some little old man who doesn’t want to do business with us.’ Tells me this thing has dragged out way too long and they’re already looking for buyers for the rest of the places over there. Get out from under.”
Freddy looked to Mitch unusually pale and incredibly pissed. Not like he was just making up a story. And why would he? This was not good news. If the development project was finished, obviously there went Bosco’s shot at managing it. Mitch waited to see if the D. had more to say. When he didn’t, Mitch stepped in. “That doesn’t mean you can’t go ahead on your own, does it? You got money in that project. Why not just buy them out and keep going on your own?”
Disanto looked at him like he’d just spit up on his shirt. “Using what for money? You got no idea how much
these guys put into this thing. Millions. Where the hell am I going to put my hands on that kind of dough?” He shook his head sadly and turned away. “Besides, now I don’t have to work with that little pecker Lucci no more. The Arizona guys are giving me back my investment—with a little extra for my efforts—and telling me to be happy. Which is what I intend to be.”
“You think those Arizona people might have a change of heart?” Mitch drained his schnapps.
“Not likely. They FedExed some papers first thing this morning for me to sign, getting me off the hook on the project. My lawyer glanced at them and said it releases me from the whole enchilada.” He looked away. “No sir, I believe this baby’s over. All over. And the Cheese Man beat me.” He didn’t say anything for a long time, and then he faced Mitch again. “You know the real pisser here? Lucci’s daughter, the horny one with the good ass, she liked the idea of selling to me. I should have worked on her all along and skipped the old hump. Sheri would have been the one to do the deal.”
“That’s a real pisser there all right, Freddy,” Mitch agreed solemnly as he motioned to the bartender for another drink. “You say you talked to Lucci already about this?”
The D. nodded. “Just after lunch. Course, he was happy as all get-out. I never heard a man sound so relieved. Going on about how he wants to forget the whole thing and get his life back to normal. Bring his wife back to town and all that good stuff.” Freddy paused and studied the man leaning on the bar next to him. “You know, this means I won’t be needing your services from now on.”
Mitch considered that. “The thought crossed my mind. What about that card-game robbery? You were the one all worked up over that, weren’t you?”
Freddy turned to look at the back bar. “True. I still might want to have the guy suffer some for that. But I’ll deal with it later. My first job is to find those other two Ramirez Boys and settle up with them. Lucci can wait.” Then he faced Mitch again. “How about you? Your deal with the police over yet, or what? Oh, yeah, I know a few people downtown and they told me a little about it. And seeing that look on your face just now, I know they told me right. I hear Kostas is still in business, so I figure you’ve got some work to do on that count.”
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