“That would be me, ma’am,” Slate said tapping his jacket pocket. “Now put down the pea shooter.”
“Yes Miss Bertucci, put down the gun,” Duke said, and both Celeste and Slate looked surprised.
“What are you talking about, Duke?” Slate asked.
“The sisters at Little Saints Academy for Girls never had a Celeste Berks who attended that school, but they did have a Celeste Bertucci around the same time. You and your brother Benny may have been placed in separate boarding schools, but you stayed very close. You’re the one who talked Morris into coming to Charleston, because your little vacations weren’t enough to keep track of the operations. You needed to move down here, and thought you’d hit the jackpot when Morris became mayor. It was easy for you to keep Morris in the dark until Isabella sent that letter. He started to peel away at the onion and got too close to the truth. Unfortunately for him, he was on his own.”
Celeste looked at Slate then back at Duke, realizing she was in a no-win situation. “Truth! Truth! The truth is that everything Morris had and everything he became was because of my family. He was so clouded by his righteous causes that he couldn’t see the strings pulled by the person lying beside him at night. He certainly had his moments, but they paled in comparison to the information we had at our fingertips. Getting him to move to Charleston was on me, but thanks to the sleuth over here, he did something that could’ve never happened in Chicago. He became mayor!”
“How did Duke help Morris become mayor?” Slate asked.
“We were all on team Duke this past summer. That chaos was very bad for business for a lot of people. Duke not only saved the city, but he gave Morris the opportunity and the perfect platform to go all the way,” she said, smiling at Duke.
“The ides of March are coming,” Duke whispered as he shook his head in disbelief.
“What was that?”
“Just like Caesar was surrounded by his enemies, Morris had nowhere to turn, not even his wife. It takes one sadistic dame to have the father of your child whacked. There is a very special place for people like you, and I’m not talking about the one upstate.”
Slate carefully moved toward Celeste and easily disarmed her as she was caught up in the conversation. He placed her in handcuffs and started guiding her toward the door when Celeste finally regained her senses. “You think this is over? You have no idea how big this is,” Celeste said with a laugh.
“No, we do. You geniuses wrote it all down for us.”
Chapter 32- Benny, Benny
“You understand what this means for us?” the voice on the other end of the phone asked with a very displeased tone.
“This is merely a speed bump, and the Cuban government will back me. We lay low and rebuild another port city. I’ve got my sights on Jacksonville,” Benny said as he sat at his desk with beads of sweat on his forehead. “As for Duke Dempsey, I have something very special in mind.”
“Benny, Benny, we need you to understand the gravity of this situation. Your ideas no longer matter, and a transition of power in Cuba is being initiated. This was a big screw up and an example needs to be made. Duke Dempsey is no longer your problem, and he will get what’s coming to him.”
“You can’t do this! Havana would be nothing without me. I built this place from the ground up, and this government works for me. I’ve made way too much money for everyone to let this little slip up define me,” Benny said, and his voice was tightrope-walking on a line between anger and fear.
“We do appreciate your efforts, but the decision has already been made. Your replacement arrived in Cuba this morning.”
“You’re going to ship me off to the desert again?”
“We had something a little more permanent in mind for you. Bye, Benny,” the voice said before hanging up.
Bertucci immediately got up from his desk and rushed over to his far wall where there was a colorful mural of a flamingo standing in a stream. He pushed the mural over to the side, revealing a safe, and dialed in the correct combination. He grabbed a black bag and his handgun and briskly walked to the emergency staircase just outside his office. Benny had been in the business too long not to have an exit plan in case things got screwed up. He’d never thought he would need to put that plan into action, but the conversation he had told him otherwise. Benny continued his brisk pace down the stairs, sweating and breathing heavily as he descended.
When he arrived at the ground level, he raised his gun and ensured the area was clear. He threw open the back door and looked around before he made a run for his car. It was a black Chevy Phaeton that had been parked in the same spot for almost a year. It had never moved from the location, but nobody ever questioned its presence.
Benny got in, fired up the engine, and checked the black bag before taking off. He knew it contained enough money to disappear and start his life over. He’d never had time to plan on what kind of life that would be, but he knew it would have to be something that let him blend into society. Who knew, maybe he could start a family and work a nine-to-five job like the majority of the suckers in the world. His engine roared as he headed up the coast, looking in his mirror to make sure he was not being followed.
Bertucci pulled down a dirt road and followed it to a lone dock. He’d had the dock built shortly after he’d moved to Cuba, so he could have a quick means to get to Miami if needed. His 30 foot Silverette sat by itself, tied to the pier. The vessel was built with pine wood and had a single screw engine.
Bertucci untied the aft line and jumped aboard the vessel. He threw the black bag in the cabin and turned the key which brought the engine to life. He stepped out of the cabin and went to the bow to untie the final line. He re-entered the cabin and stood behind the wheel. As he pulled away from the dock, a smile of accomplishment swept over his face. For the first time since his phone call, he felt a sigh of relief. Images of his new life started to flash into his mind.
Once Bertucci cleared the dock he hammered down on the throttle to get as far away from the island paradise he’d once called home. Just as the engine came to full power, a flash of light was all Bertucci saw. The vessel exploded, scattering fiery pine wood planks and debris throughout the ocean.
Chapter 33 – I Like the Sound of That
Duke, Mary, and Margo made their way up the familiar mahogany staircase to the office of Duke Dempsey Investigations. The mood was somber, and not a word was spoken as they entered. Duke wore a black suit and tie, while the women wore black dresses with accessories to match.
Duke loosened his tie and sat behind his desk as the women each grabbed a chair. “Thirsty?” he asked, breaking the silence that had engulfed the three since they’d left the Charleston Cemetery.
Mary nodded to Duke as Margo wiped a tear from her watery eyes. Duke took the bottle of Evan Williams and two glasses from the bottom drawer. “You sure you don’t want a tickle, Margo? I’m sure your priest will give you a pass today.”
“No, I’m ok. It was a very nice service, wasn’t it?”
“It was beautiful. A fitting send-off for a true hero,” Mary added.
“Duke, I’m going to take the day. Maybe go down to St. Patrick’s and reflect on my friendship with Detective Stampkin.”
There were only a handful of times that Duke had seen Margo as emotionally distraught as she was. He could never have confirmed it, but he’d always had a hunch that Margo had a small flame burning for Johnny. “You take as much time as you need.”
Mary threw back the shot of whiskey and stared at Duke. She knew he was hurting, but also knew the kind of man he was. He wasn’t about to turn on the waterworks and fall into her arms. “Hey, you need a little time to yourself?” she said softly.
“Is it that obvious?” Duke asked with a forced smile. “You know, I just realized that I never had a chance to sit and remember Johnny. Everything happened so fast with the arrests and the statements that I never got a chance to take a breath and just remember what kind of man he was.”
“I’
m going to give Margo a ride to St. Patrick’s and give you some time alone. You still coming over for dinner?”
“Of course, doll. I’ll be there.” Duke looked at Margo as she was walking out the door. “Margo.”
Margo paused and looked up at Duke.
“I’m here for you, and I always will be.”
Margo just smiled as her eyes started to well up again. Mary stretched over the desk and kissed Duke on the forehead before she followed Margo out the door.
Duke poured himself another drink and swiveled his chair around so he could see out the window. “It’s been a hell of a ride, old friend.”
Over the next hour, Duke sat and reminisced about the good and bad times the two had shared. Most of the memories were from when Duke was still on the force and Johnny was his mentor. The old man had taught him everything there was to know about the detective game, as well as life.
The bell from the front door of the office rang, breaking Duke from his trance.
“You in here, Dempsey?”
“No.”
Slate walked into the office without an invitation and sat down. Duke never turned his chair to face his unwanted guest, but continued to sip his bourbon and stare out the window.
“Hell of a service. Very few moments give me the chills, but that was one of them,” Slate said as he placed his hat on the desk.
“You’ve been a busy guy, Commish. What do you need?” Duke said, refusing to turn around.
“Still getting used to the title. Between the feds and the Governor, I’ve been non-stop trying to rebuild this town the right way,” Slate said.
“What’s the word on Benny Bertucci?”
“He’s still in Cuba. He’s got the whole country in his pocket, and they laughed at our extradition request.”
“I heard the Lieutenant Governor is playing mayor until the election is over.”
“You heard right. They didn’t trust any of the apples in the barrel and started from scratch. Hell, I’m working a skeleton crew of a force until we can get some fresh meat out of the academy. Going to be a hell of a lot of on the job training.”
“All this city needs is a bunch of greenhorns with itchy trigger fingers running around playing cops and robbers,” Duke said as he finished off his bourbon.
A clang rang out as something landed on Duke’s desk. “What this city needs is someone they trust. They need a hero, Duke.”
Duke finally turned his chair around, and saw a gold badge with the city of Charleston seal emblazoned on the front. The word ‘Inspector,' inscribed on the top, was looking up at him. “What’s this?”
“It’s a new position and a fresh start. Moody got promoted to Captain, but I need a right-hand man in the trenches. All detectives will answer to you and you will only answer to me. There is no middleman, and you work whatever case you want no questions asked. It was an easy sell to the Acting Mayor.”
Duke picked up the badge and studied it. “Captain Moody, huh? He’s a good badge.”
“That he is, but I need the best. Let’s finish this thing and build our people the city they deserve.”
“Who came up with this Inspector rank? A little corny isn’t it?”
“Yours truly.”
Duke took out another glass and poured them both a stiff drink. “You want me to leave all this?” Duke looked at the badge again. “Play cops for peanuts?”
“I’ve been tracking your life for years, Dempsey. You’re more than a fancy suit and spending Friday’s at The Swamp Fox.”
“This new Inspector position comes with a secretary?” Duke asked as he held up his glass to Slate.
Slate smiled and held up his drink to Duke’s. “It can.”
Duke cheersed Slate and they both threw back their drinks in one big swig. “Inspector Dempsey. I like the sound of that.”
THE END
The Holy City Hustle: A Duke Dempsey Mystery Page 18