A TREACHEROUS TART

by Fiona Grace

  “Let’s do it!” Piper cried, excitedly.

  They went into the kitchen together. While Piper busied herself in the pantry, Ali tipped away the dirty mop water and grabbed the full garbage bag. She headed out the back door to the dumpster in the alleyway.

  But just as she slung the garbage bag into the dumpster a disembodied voice made her jump out of her skin.

  “Morning, Miss Sweet.”

  Heart in her throat, Ali whirled around and came face to face with a man in a crisp gray pinstripe suit and matching fedora. It was Joe the mobster.

  “Joe?” Ali exclaimed, placing her hand on her thudding heart. “You scared me!”

  “My apologies,” the young mobster said, tipping his hat.

  Ali chuckled. “So they’re still giving you the graveyard shift, huh? Doesn’t seem fair. I figured you would stop keeping a lookout now the ‘lurker’ has been caught.”

  “I’m sorry?” Joe asked, looking confused.

  “The lurker you warned me about the other night,” Ali said. “My friend Eunbi and I spotted him last night trying to break into a store. The cops arrested him.”

  Joe’s eyes widened and his eyebrows shot half way up his forehead. This news, for some reason, seemed incredibly important, and it sent Joe into a sudden tizz.

  “Miss Sweet, you’d better come with me,” he said, marching forward and taking her by the arm. “Fat Tony needs to hear about this.”

  “Wait. Joe. No,” Ali said, trying to wriggle free. “I can’t go and visit Fat Tony right now! I just opened again after being closed and I really need to fix up my bakery and get back to work!”

  Joe did not seem to even hear her protestations. “Fat Tony is going to be so happy with me…” he said under his breath to himself, as he dragged Ali down the alleyway with him.

  “Joe. Please,” Ali said, trying to dig her heels in. “Can’t this wait?”

  “Wait?” Joe said, turning to look at her with eyes so wide and round he looked a little deranged. “No way! Fat Tony is going to be so happy, Ali! He’s going to reward you. Reward me. This is a good day. A good, good day! Come on! We need to bring your friend, too. What was her name? You-bean?”

  “Eunbi,” Ali said, shaking her head. “No. We can’t. This has nothing to do with her.”

  But Joe wasn’t taking no for an answer. He was insistent. “Fat Tony likes all the i’s dotted and t’s crossed, you know what I mean? Let’s fetch You-Bean. It’s for the best. Trust me.”

  Ali groaned. There was no way out of this. She was going to have come face to face with Fat Tony the mafioso once more, and this time she was dragging her friend along for the ride.

  *

  Luckily, Eunbi hadn’t checked out of the Willow Bay Inn yet.

  Ali arrived with Joe to pick her up, and she met them in the reception foyer, following a rushed and confused text message Ali had sent on the way.

  “What is this about?” Eunbi asked, eyeing Joe warily.

  “Long story,” Ali replied. “Just let me do the talking and everything will be fine.”

  They walked together to Fat Tony’s pizzeria at the far end of the boardwalk. When they went inside, they found the mob boss sitting on the central table in his preferred spot, surrounded by his cronies who stood like a protective wall around him. He glanced up as Ali entered, and a big smile inched across his wide, square face.

  “I hear you have good news for me, Miss Sweet,” he said.

  “Apparently so,” Ali replied.

  “Tell ’em, Ali,” Joe said, encouragingly, giving her a nudge. He could hardly hide his enthusiasm.

  Ali took a small, staggered step forward and cleared her throat. She hated public speaking at the best of times, and even more so when her audience was made up of the local mafia…

  “Last night my friend and I spotted a man lurking outside of Best Hot Dogs,” she said. “I remembered what Joe told me about a lurker, and my friend realized he was also the same man who was wanted for the unsolved murder of Gilbert Brown. The police have him in custody now.”

  Silence fell for a long, uncomfortable amount of time. Then Fat Tony started to clap loudly, his big meaty hands thudding sharply together and causing a painful clap to echo all around the vast pizzeria.

  “Hear that, boys?” he said. “Salvador’s off our turf! We have cause for celebration! Giuseppe, fire up the pizza oven. Gino, pour the sambucas.”

  The suited men standing behind him motioned to move, but Eunbi stepped forward stopping them in their tracks.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” she said. “Did you say Salvador? The man we caught is called Peter Timmons. Or Porky Pete. He’s definitely not called Salvador.”

  Ali tensed. She really wished Eunbi hadn’t so boldly injected herself into the situation. She’d wanted to get in there and get out fast, but now Eunbi had extended their visit.

  Fat Tony’s celebratory expression slowly began to fall. He lowered himself back into his seat, and fixed his glare on Joe. “What did she say, Joey boy?”

  Joe took off his fedora and started fiddling with it in his hands. “I think she said the man’s name was Porky Pete.”

  “And what’s the name of Salvador?”

  “It’s Salvador, Fat Tony.”

  “And what is it not?”

  “Porky Pete, Fat Tony.”

  Fat Tony banged his fists with ferocity onto the table top. “Then why have you come here telling me Salvador’s been caught when he hasn’t?” he screamed, so loud the veins on his neck bulged. His face turned a terrible shade of crimson.

  One of the mobsters standing behind Fat Tony leaned in and said, “Sounds like a case of mistaken identity, boss.”

  Fat Tony turned furiously to face him. “I know it’s a case of mistaken identity, you imbecile!” Spittle flew from his mouth as he screeched, then he pushed his way past the group and began pacing back and forth across the black and white checkerboard tiles. “When I get my hands on Salvador…” he muttered under his breath as he stomped.

  Ali sidled up to Joe, who was standing with his back pressed against the window to get as much distance between himself and his furious mob boss as possible.

  “So your lurker and our killer aren’t the same guy after all?” she said.

  Joe shook his head. “I guess not,” he stammered. “I just figured if anyone was going to be doing any killing in this town it would be him.”

  “Who is ‘he,’ if you don’t mind me asking? If he’s still on the loose, I still have to look out for him, right?”

  “Salvador? He belongs to a rival gang from the next town over. He’s been encroaching on our turf, for loans and that stuff. Fat Tony hates him. It’s disrespectful to work another gang’s area.”

  Just then, Fat Tony swirled back around. His face was still beet red with fury, and he pounded his fist into his palm. “The only arms that get broken in Willow Bay are the ones I say get broken!”

  “Wait…” Ali said, as the cogs started turning in her mind. “What did you say about broken arms?”

  Fat Tony looked at her like she was mad. “I said, the only arms that get broken in Willow Bay are the ones I say get broken.” What’s wrong with this broad? Do you need your ears cleaned?”

  His cronies cackled at his joke, but Ali’s mind was turning. She looked over at Eunbi.

  “I don’t think Porky Pete is the killer,” she said with a gasp.

  “What?” Eunbi replied, looking confused.

  “Porky Pete. He didn’t kill Gilbert. But I think I know who did.”

  She grabbed her hand and dragged her toward the exit.

  “Hey!” Fat Tony cried as they went. “Where are you going?”

  “I have an idea about how to find Salvador!” Ali called over her shoulder. “Just trust me!”

  And with that, she and Eunbi hurried away.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  “Ali,” Eunbi said as she raced along the boardwalk beside her. “What is going on? Those guys back there. I mean, ma
ybe I’m crazy, but they kinda looked like they’re part of the mob!”

  “They are,” Ali told her, without missing a beat.

  Eunbi’s eyebrows shot up. “What?” She scudded to a halt, her sneakers squeaking against the boardwalk. “Why are you on first-name terms with the mob?”

  Ali paused and turned back to her. “It’s a long story. And it will all make sense soon. I promise.”

  Eunbi shook her head, looking surprised. “That’s it? It’s a long story? You expect me to go anywhere with you after telling me you’re involved with the mafia?”

  “Shh!” Ali said, glancing around at the few passing tourists to make sure no one had overheard. She couldn’t blame Eunbi for her sudden reticence. She spoke in a low voice. “Look, I know it seems crazy. But I’m not involved with them by choice. They kind of run the town. It’s better to keep on their good side, you know? They really like me. If I sort out this whole issue with Salvador, then that won’t change anytime soon.”

  Eunbi blinked at her, looking stunned. Then, finally, she nodded. “Okay. Fine. I guess we all have our secrets.”

  They continued along the boardwalk, silent for a moment.

  “Where are we even going?” Eunbi asked.

  “Here,” Ali told her. She pointed up at the building they’d just drawn up in front of. The Willow Bay Inn.

  “Here?” Eunbi asked with a frown. “Why? I don’t understand.”

  “You will soon,” Ali said, guiding her into the reception area.

  They went inside the foyer. At the very same moment Bottomless Pit Bob was hurrying down the steps, holding a suitcase in his good hand. His hair was a mess and he looked disheveled, like he hadn’t slept in days. He appeared to be in quite the hurry to get out of Willow Bay, and if Ali’s theory was correct, then she knew exactly why.

  “Bob?” Eunbi said, frowning as he lumbered ungainly down the steps. “Are you checking out?”

  At the sudden surprise appearance of his fellow competitor, Bob’s expression became even more harried. He stepped down the final step onto the landing beside Eunbi, his eyes darting around evasively.

  “The cops said we can go now Pete’s been caught,” he said.

  “I know that. But I thought we were going to travel together.”

  “Oh—um—right, I did say that, didn’t I?” Bob stammered. “But the thing is, I’ve had an—um—well, a last-minute change of plans.”

  He was getting really agitated now, Ali noted. A bead of sweat started to roll down his forehead, and the armpits of his T-shirt were damp.

  “Bob, are you okay?” Eunbi asked. “Are you sick? You don’t look so good.”

  “He’s not sick,” Ali offered. “He has a guilty conscience. And it looks like we’re just in the nick of time.”

  Eunbi’s face snapped to hers. “What are you talking about?”

  Ali kept her gaze steady on Bob. “Are you going to tell her, or am I?”

  Bob started tugging at the collar of his shirt. He tried to bolt past Ali but didn’t make it very far.

  Eunbi’s eyes flashed with confusion. “What’s going on?”

  “He has debts,” Ali started.

  “And?” Bob shot back, cutting her off. The same crazed, paranoid look from the night he’d brandished the lamp came back to his eyes. “That doesn’t mean anything. And it hasn’t nothing to do with Gilbert dying. The real culprit is in prison. The case is closed. Now will you stop harassing me and let me leave?”

  Suddenly, Eunbi stepped forward and laid a hand gently on his arm. “Bob? What’s going on?”

  He looked at her, the crazed energy buzzing off him. Then something in him shifted. He started to slowly shake his head, and tears welled in his eyes. He spoke in a small, apologetic voice. “I didn’t want any of this to happen.”

  Eunbi’s eyebrows drew together. She pressed her lips together, as if holding in emotion. “Bob. You need to tell me now, and you need to be honest. Did you kill Gilbert.”

  “No!” Bob said, but his tone had dropped in volume. “But… but it’s my fault he’s dead.”

  Eunbi’s face cracked with pain. Tears began to roll down her cheeks. Ali wrapped an arm around her to comfort her, but kept her gaze on Bob.

  “Salvador is the one you’re in debt to, isn’t he?” She pointed at his plaster cast. “He’s the one who did that to you?”

  Slowly, Bob nodded.

  “How about we all sit down and talk?” Ali suggested. “I have a feeling you’ve got a lot to get off your chest, don’t you Bob?”

  “I think that’s for the best,” Bob replied.

  *

  The three sat together in the lounge area of the inn. It was just as dated in here as the rest of the place, with flower-printed wallpaper and dark wooden furniture. The barman brought over their drinks, setting them down on the coasters.

  Eunbi picked up her wine with a shaking hand and gulped it back in one go. She didn’t even grimace this time.

  “I’ll take another,” she told the barman.

  He walked away, and Ali picked up her wine glass, taking a sip. Over the rim, she pinned Bob with her glare. “I think it’s time you started talking.”

  Bob nodded slowly. “I needed money. I borrowed it from the wrong guy. Ever since then, Salvador has been following me. The debt keeps spiraling. He did this to me.” He held up the broken arm. “And during the interrogation, I made the mistake of telling him that I’d pay him after the contest. That if I won, I’d make all the money back.”

  Ali nodded slowly. It was just as she suspected. “But your debts had spiraled far beyond the $10k you knew you’d get for coming in second place.”

  “I owed him $25k,” Bob said, in a small, sad voice. “Unless I won the whole contest, I couldn’t pay him back.”

  “So Salvador made certain you’d win,” Ali finished. “By killing the person who stood between you and first place.”

  Bob nodded and broke down into tears. He stretched his arms on the table in front of him and began to weep into them. Eunbi stared at him, looking completely uncertain about how to react. Finally, she patted his shoulder with her hand and her olive branch gesture only made Bob wail more loudly.

  “That’s why you came at me with the lamp,” Ali continued, slotting the final pieces together. “You thought I was Salvador coming to break your other arm.”

  Bob straightened back up and wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his meaty hand. He nodded.

  Eunbi was still rubbing his shoulder. “Why didn’t you come to one of us? Me. Frank. Even Gilbert. Any one of us would have helped you if we knew you were in trouble.”

  Bob hiccupped on his tears. “I was ashamed.”

  Eunbi squeezed his shoulder, in a stern, maternal way. “If you’re ever in a situation like that again, please don’t try and solve it alone. I’ll help you.”

  A fat tear plopped off the end of Bob’s nose. “Thank you. I don’t deserve your kindness after what I did.”

  Eunbi shook his words away. “We’re family.”

  “The only thing I don’t understand,” Ali said, “is how Salvador got backstage to plant the oyster sauce in the first place. Did you let him through?”

  Bob shook his head. “No! I had no idea he was going to plant the oyster sauce. I don’t even know how he found out about it. I didn’t tell him, I swear. And I didn’t help him backstage either.”

  Ali nodded. She believed him. With the floodgates open and his secret out, Bob had no reason to lie anymore.

  “There’s still a piece of the puzzle missing,” she said, ponderously.

  She was confident that Salvador the loan shark was the culprit, but she didn’t know how he’d pulled it off. And since she wasn’t one to let things rest, she knew that missing piece would nag at the back of her mind forever. How? How had Salvador made it backstage in order to plant the oyster sauce? How had he learned about Gilbert’s deadly allergy?

  “What are we going to do?” Eunbi said, interrupting her
ruminations. “If your theory is correct, then the wrong man is sitting in prison.”

  Ali got her phone out of her pocket. “We have to put it right.” She looked at Bob. “Did you already hand over the prize money to Salvador?”

  He nodded. “Why do you think I was checking out when you got here? Now the debt has been settled, I want to get away from this town as fast as possible. I never want to set eyes on that man again.”

  “I have some bad news for you,” Ali said, and she held the phone across the table to Bob. “I need you to call Salvador.”

  Bob looked at her cell phone like it had teeth. “No way.”

  “You have to,” Ali implored. “You’re our only connection to him, the only way to set up a sting. Call him and say you need another loan.”

  “NO!” Bob yelled. He was getting irate now. “I never want to look into his eyes again. I never want to give him even the smallest slither of a chance to do this to me again.” He held up his plaster cast.

  “Bob!” Eunbi cried. “You have to do this.”

  He turned to her, a look of pain in his eyes. “I don’t want to.”

  “You have to,” she implored. “You don’t get a choice. You let Gilbert down in life. The only thing you can do now is honor him in death. Put his killer in prison. It’s the only way you can make it up to him. To all of us.”

  Bob turned his gaze down in shame. Ali nudged the cell phone closer. With a heavy sigh of resignation, Bob picked it up.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  Ali shivered as she walked down towards the harbor with Bob. It was eerie down here among the tall bobbing boats, with the only sound the waves sloshing against the harbor wall. The only light was from a few grubby street lamps and the moon reflecting off the surface of the black water.

  “Why did you pick such a creepy location?” Ali asked Bob in a hushed voice.

  “I didn’t get a choice,” Bob whispered back, testily.

  He looked terrified, and Ali couldn’t blame him. But this was his atonement for his cowardice before, from not telling her the whole truth when he had the chance.