by MP Murphy
“Lee, are you ok? It’s a bit odd of you to volunteer such information even though we all knew who was giving the orders.”
“I’m fine, the heat is all. Do you need anything else from me, Alex? If not, I’m going to go and find some air conditioning.”
“Since you are so open with your secrets today, why not let me in on another one?”
“Ask, but I’ll probably lie to you.”
“I always assume that Lee. Why not tell me why Shaw wanted the kid dead in the first place?”
“I’m not sweating enough to tell you that. Besides, I have no idea. He pays me for a job and I get it done. No questions asked.”
“Sure Lee, whatever you say. We both know that you have a pretty good idea even if Daniel Shaw didn’t come right out and tell you.”
“I sure do.” Kershaw patted down his forehead once again as he stood up from the table. “Alex, let me tell you this, and I’m only saying it because it won’t matter much longer. Daniel Shaw can screw anyone in this city and get away with it, but no one can screw Daniel Shaw. Unfortunately most people learn it the hard way.”
“Lee,” Alex said as the man began to walk away. “Thanks for your help.”
“I don’t deserve it,” was all she heard him mumble as he disappeared into the crowded street.
Chapter 48
He didn’t know what bothered him more, the guilt about ordering the hit on Alex, or the fact that he had allowed himself to care about her life. She was pleasant enough and great to look at, but what was really eating at him about the whole situation was Daniel Shaw, sitting in his river view office getting away scot-free while he agonized over the whole mess. Kershaw knew from the moment Jimmy DeLuca screwed up that he was probably going to end up a dead man, but Alex was a different situation. She was brought in to help clean up someone else’s mess and had done her job like she had been told. Too bad she had to die simply because Shaw was getting nervous. The more Kershaw thought about it the more he began to fear for his own life. His only hope was that Shaw’s nerves would calm down once Alex and Jimmy were out of the picture.
Walking into a little sushi place in the Warehouse District, Kershaw ordered a cucumber roll, an ice water, and some cold sake. It was too early for the dinner crowd and a little late in the afternoon for lunch so the place was quiet, except for Kershaw’s thoughts. He sat thinking about what his next move should be, as the man behind the counter rolled Asian pear, avocado, and salmon into a thin sheet of cucumber before topping it with ponzu. Calling Daniel Shaw about the Gilmore’s retrieving the pictures, was what he should do, but he wasn’t very optimistic about the man’s reaction, especially since he had originally told him they had been destroyed. There was a chance Shaw would be relieved about the evidence of the Zeitlin kid’s murder being off the street. The more likely scenario ended with Shaw screaming through the phone about Kershaw letting the pictures slip through his fingers. The call could wait.
He suddenly had another thought, which basically told old Daniel Shaw to go screw himself. The more Kershaw dwelled on it, the happier he was with himself. Why did Shaw even need to know about the pictures? Right now they were considered destroyed, and for all Kershaw cared, he could go right on believing that. Sure Shaw would be pissed if they ever showed up again, but not nearly as mad as he would be now if he knew someone else had their hands on them. Nothing made Daniel Shaw angrier then someone else having something he wanted. The reason it would work is because he knew old Captain Gilmore would never let those pictures of Chelsea out of his sight. Most likely, they had already been destroyed.
The sushi began to taste even better as he decided that doing nothing was going to be his best policy. He would sit quiet, keep a low profile, and avoid Shaw until the whole mess had blown over. Jimmy and Alex would still have to die, but Kershaw’s newfound guilt over Alex had already begun to disappear with every sip of his sake. Over time, Daniel Shaw would be distracted with other matters, and the murder of Levi Zeitlin would become an afterthought. Kershaw took another long drink of the cold sake and as it slid down his throat all his troubles and the hot summer’s day slowly began to disappear. His nerves were settling and his mind was at ease. If he only knew his tranquility would be short-lived, he would have never left the sushi bar.
Chapter 49
The body was bruised, bloodied, and writhing in pain, in an abandoned steel yard south of the city. The man stood above watching with carnal pleasure at the agony he was inflicting on the near corpse sputtering on the ground. He slowly circled the body to reveal the barely recognizable face of Jimmy DeLuca. The man smiled at what life remained in Jimmy’s eyes before he laid a steel toe right into his nose and reveled in the spray of blood it created.
The man bent down close enough to whisper into Jimmy’s ear. “It never pays to be sloppy kid,” his raspy voice lectured. It was his absolute favorite voice to use. A psychological advantage over his potential prey and victims, the voice foreshadowed the evil he was capable of creating. The raspy, soft tone reflected how he worked his victims with cool composure and a deadly strike. Poor Jimmy DeLuca had been blind to his attack. The kid never suspected a country bumpkin with a Midwestern accent. The fool, the man thought as he looked at the young man too helpless to save his own life.
A stolen beat up truck was parked on the gravel behind them. The man always played his parts well and the truck was a great prop for his country boy routine. From the back of the truck he retrieved an ax and a long length of rope. Jimmy’s fear was boiling out into the air, and as he breathed, it filled him with the excitement and anticipation of the kill. Often his kills had to be swift and clean, but when he was allowed time to work and perform, his art became priceless. The rope was tied around Jimmy’s wrists and his arms were stretched out. The length of rope was then thrown over one of the beams in the roof of the old steel mill, and for a moment Jimmy thought he was about to be hung. “That would be too easy,” the man said reading the kid’s mind. The man began to show his teeth as his smile grew. The man was amused at the lack of imagination from the kid. What was planned for Jimmy DeLuca would be a lot more fun than a little lynching.
Picking up the ax, the man stood above Jimmy who was still on the ground unable to move. He looked down on the helpless soul like a God with the power to give life or take it away. Today, this God would take Jimmy’s life and thrive from the pleasure. The ax swung down towards Jimmy quickly and without warning. The smooth, powerful swing took Jimmy’s left foot, and before his screams could reach the air, the second stroke removed his right foot, and blood poured out onto the ground.
Moving with focused determination, the man pulled hard on the rope hanging from the beam above him. Jimmy was lifted by his tied wrists into the air where his battered body swung and bled beneath the roof of the old steel mill. The young man’s severed feet lay on the ground below him as his life and blood sprayed out of his body, flicking across the ground like paint on an artist’s canvas. To the man holding the ax, it was a work of art. Jimmy had gone from prey to hunted game, strung up and drained of his life, finally transformed into the work of a master.
The man waited and watched until the very end not wanting to miss a moment. When the soul of Jimmy DeLuca departed, so did the man who had taken his life, leaving behind the kid’s body and the gun that was used to shoot Levi Zeitlin. Pulling out of the river valley and the steelyards, he thought about how much he enjoyed driving the old pickup truck and even contemplated getting one when he left the city for good. Jimmy DeLuca was already a forgotten memory.
Chapter 50
The lead on the Zeitlin boy was getting me no where, and I had been unable to dig up anything on his rumored mistress. Alex had been of little help, only confirming what I already knew but volunteering nothing new to my investigation. She seemed preoccupied of late and I had chosen not to press the issue any further with her.
I did manage to convince Colin it was a good idea to track down Levi Zeitlin’s phone records eve
n though it was an obvious breach of Cleveland police jurisdiction. The FBI had ways of getting around the rules and Colin knew most of them. A cell phone was never found on Levi’s body when it was recovered from the trunk of Chelsea’s car, but who was living today without one? The odds were pretty good the rich socialite had a cell phone, a V.I.P. call list, and hopefully somewhere in it, the number of his most recent illicit hookup.
The summer heat had returned with full force and I wandered the city streets with nothing better to do than think. I was at an impasse in the investigation and seemed stuck in a position where I was reliant on others to move forward. It was a hard position for me to deal with because it made me feel like my skills were lacking and I was in need of a little life support to keep my case going. I walked slowly down the concrete sidewalks in a pair of seersucker shorts, a white shirt, and a cozy pair of flip-flops before finally stopping in a patio bar on East 4th. I ordered a cold Corona and felt the bottle sweat from my palm and down the length of my arm. The beer was transporting my mind to a beach where the trade winds blew, when I noticed two people sitting at a table just down the street from me. One had the look of a 1950s Hollywood star and the other was sweating to death in a suit. Alex and Kershaw were having a little meeting. What were they up to?
I watched the two of them for a few minutes looking for their body language to tell me about the conversation, since I could not hear from my vantage point. Kershaw, looking like a man on the verge of a heart attack, finally stood and walked down the street. Nothing said the conversation ended badly, but there was no reason to believe the opposite either. Alex sat well collected and asked the waitress for the check before leaving the table for the crowded street. My first instinct was to follow her, but with the amount of people on the street she would be lost before I could even ask the bartender for my tab. I was seriously thinking about skipping out on the bill and coming back later to settle up when my cell vibrated from the pocket of my shorts.
“Make it quick, I’m a little busy,” I answered.
“Not for this you’re not,” Colin said.
“Alex and Kershaw just had a little meet and greet. Do you have something better than that?”
“Told you the woman was trouble, and yes I do have something better.”
“Well, are you going to tell me or just leave me hanging,” I asked realizing I wasn’t sure if I really wanted the answer.
“Let’s put it this way,” Colin said, “I think the local boys are going to solve the Levi Zeitlin murder for you.”
“There is no way I’m going to believe that. You’ll have to give me a little more to go on.”
“Patience Jack, besides it will be better if I fill you in when you get here.”
“Great,” I said sarcastically.
“What’s that for?”
“Colin, the only time I meet you anywhere is to have drinks, dinner, or so you can show me a dead body.”
“You’re probably right, and just so you don’t come under the wrong impression there’s no dinner or drinks where I’m at.”
Chapter 51
Nestled along the Cuyahoga River south of downtown, the Union Steel Yards were a long time past their glory days. Once filled with the activity of thousands of workers, the yards were now nothing more than barren land decorated with the rust of better times.
I followed Colin’s directions down narrow roads and through gates left open by the hurried escape of the local economy. There was not a single sound and the desolation seemed to stretch beyond what I could have imagined. I was only five miles from the heart of Cleveland, but the only noise was the hum coming from my car’s engine. There could have been no better place to find isolation in the metropolitan area.
It took me a couple of minutes to get my bearings and find Colin’s car outside one of the remaining buildings. By the time I had a chance to park and unhook my seat belt he was already standing outside my door.
“Pretty quiet,” I said getting out of the car and shutting the door behind me.
“Only ones here I would imagine.”
“Where is the normal parade?” I had been picturing a scene like the one by the river with local cops, technicians, coroners, and people clamoring all over the place.
“The parade will come later. It’s just you and me for right now.” The obvious question must have been written on my face because Colin kept right on talking. “The call came on my personal cell phone.”
“Did you get a chance to trace it?”
“No luck.”
“I have to assume whoever it was that called you was the killer?”
Colin waved me on to walk with him and I followed him into the building. “He never admitted to the killing, but yeah I would assume it was him. The guy had a soft accent and it seemed to be East European, but there was a little something off with it.”
“Off? You think we have a pretty good actor on our hands?”
“Could be.”
“So why haven’t you called in the local boys yet. It is their jurisdiction.”
“Well that’s the part that will keep you up at night,” Colin said without one ounce of humor to his voice.
“Shit, what is it now?” As if I was sleeping much lately anyways.
“Well our mystery caller believes the C.P.D. will match the gun on the body to the one that shot Levi Zeitlin. He believes they’ll run with it and close the file. Lack of resources… his words not mine.”
“I could see that. Levi’s murder needs to be solved, but the murder of his killer doesn’t rate high on the priority list. Seems like good logic when you are dealing with the local police, but that still doesn’t answer why you haven’t called it in.”
“Because the man on the phone insisted I bring you out here to have a look first.”
“Me personally?”
“The one and only.”
At that moment Colin stopped walking and I looked up to see a badly damage body hanging from the rafters of the building by his tied wrists. His feet had been severed and the wounds were being hungrily devoured by a swarm of flies. A few seagulls and crows were joining in on the rest of him. The stones and debris below the victim were covered in a large splatter pattern of blood. It looked like a Jackson Pollock. “Jimmy DeLuca,” I asked Colin.
“Hard to tell, but that was my guess. My feeling is your girl Alex may want to watch herself.”
Chapter 52
When the crime scene had been cleared and the story played out on the evening news, everything happened as expected. The headline story across all the local stations highlighted the murder of Levi Zeitlin, and each anchor seemed as pleased as the Cleveland Police that the killer had been found. Jimmy DeLuca’s death was attributed to a drug deal gone wrong and the forensics team was waiting on a secondary ballistics test to confirm what everyone already seemed to know. The entire community seemed pleased with themselves having solved the murder of an important local socialite, and for getting a drug dealer off of the city’s streets. Everyone but Daniel Shaw, who sat fuming in front of the television screens in his office.
He had been trying to call Kershaw to no avail and now Shaw sat staring blankly at the TVs. As Kershaw continued to ignore his phone calls, he became more certain it was intentional. The little shit was certainly hiding away somewhere trying to avoid Shaw’s desire to strangle him.
Pacing across his office floor as he gazed at the view from his office window, Daniel Shaw began mumbling to himself trying to cover every angle and option to clean up the mess Kershaw had created. He began to wonder out loud how the killing of one little rich brat could have caused so much trouble for him. The entire blame had to be laid at the feet of Lee Kershaw. The man made one bad decision after another. The only reason he had been hired was so Shaw could keep his hands clean, but now as he looked down on them they appeared covered in shit.
The local police had predictably closed the case without snooping further into it. The Cleveland Police may have known better than to dig
too deep into these matters, but Jack Francis and his FBI connections could care less whose feathers they ruffled. Damn old man Gilmore, Shaw should have had him shot for hiring Francis. At least someone had taken care of the greedy antique dealer. Charles Beard was a real moron for sticking his nose in matters he knew nothing about. So far the only good thing coming from all this was that a couple of true idiots were dead.
The phone on Shaw’s desk began to ring so loud it appeared to want to leap onto the floor. The sound broke Shaw’s thoughts sending him instantly into a more visible fit of rage.
“What?” The volume and ferociousness of Shaw’s voice rattled through the phone.
The man at the other end spoke as he laughed. There was pure joy in his voice. “Rough night, Daniel? Personally I’m in quite a good mood. I found the evening news especially cheerful.”
Shaw fell back into his chair, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath at the sound of the voice on the other end of the phone. “You,” he said more calmly now. “You were behind all this.”
The voice with the Midwestern accent chuckled. “Of course, did you really think your boy Kershaw was this incompetent?”
“How did you even know Kershaw and I were working with each other? Never mind, I don’t really care at this point. Why don’t you simply tell me what it’s going to cost me to finish this mess and forget it ever existed?”
“You are not resigning that easy. Daniel you must know how you found yourself in this mess. I am very good at what I do, as I am sure you have already discovered, so when Lee Kershaw came to me to do your dirty work my greed took over smelling a golden goose to lay my golden egg.”
“Your golden egg?”
“You are not that blind Daniel. You are my golden goose and my golden egg is going to be enough money to live off of for a very long time.”