by Robert Swetz
“You’re sure it was a gang shooting?”
“Agent Rockford,” Crosby said. “Almost all the murders in that part of town are gang related. Trust me.” His eyes briefly glanced around the room. “Look at the size of this room and how many people are in it. That’s how many gang related crimes we have in New York. You don’t have to look any further.”
“Then if it’s gang related, how can the license be evidence?”
“That’s what I want to know. Ever since we found it, all I’ve heard about are the Scorpions. There’s just too many coincidences for my taste.”
Rockford nodded. “We’ll hang onto the license for now. But if you need it, we’ll let you have it. You said you were going back to check the crime scene. I think we’ll tag along.”
Crosby noticed they weren’t giving him an option.
“Suit yourself. I was about to leave when you walked in. If you’re going, then let’s go.”
They were walking through the hallway when Crosby mentioned something else. “The woman on the license is quite a looker,” he said to Rockford. “Even from just her license photo I could tell she was pretty.”
Rockford pulled out his phone and found a picture. He handed it to Crosby. “This was the latest photo we had of her from before she went missing.”
“Damn!” Crosby swore. “It looks like a magazine cover. She could be a model. Did you check with any of the agencies?”
“She was a model before she married. And yes, we have checked with agencies all over the country. Nobody has seen her.”
When they got downstairs, Crosby was about to head for his car, but Rockford said, “We’ll take our car.”
Again, Crosby realized they weren’t giving him a choice. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised to see they were driving a large black SUV. Typical FBI. An SUV like that was the last thing he’d pick to be driving around the streets of New York. Unless it was armored. He sat in the back with the woman, Casper, and noticed that the other guy, Sargetti, headed straight for the driver’s seat. He gave Sargetti directions to get to the Scorpion’s building.
“So who is this woman?” Crosby asked. “Why are you looking for her?”
“Have you heard of Vincent Bianchi?” Rockford asked.
“No.”
“He’s mafia. Chicago.”
“I don’t do mafia cases. Street gangs are my beat.”
“Francesca is Vincent’s wife. She ran out on him about eight years ago.”
“From the mafia? Okay, what little I know about them is that on the one hand, I can’t blame her. On the other hand, I would think that might be exceedingly stupid.”
“You would think,” Rockford replied. “But then there’s the other side of the equation too.”
“What’s that?”
“Francesca Bianchi is the daughter of Dominic Giordano. He used to be the biggest mafia boss in California before he died. Which makes Francesca, mafia royalty. And then there’s her son, Brian. Since Francesca’s brother runs the family now, and he never had any kids, someday when he grows up, Brian could literally be heir to it all. On both sides. Francesca marrying Vincent Bianchi cemented a relationship between two major mafia families.”
“Why the hell would a woman like that, run?” Crosby asked.
“You tell us? We don’t know. What we do know is that both families have been searching like crazy for her, which makes us very interested. We’re convinced she’s got information that could be very sensitive to both sides.”
“And now I accidently tripped over her old driver’s license,” Crosby stated. “Which started…what? Everyone looking again?”
“I don’t know about everyone,” Rockford replied. “Hopefully not. Just us. If we can find her, then maybe we can learn something.”
“Tell us something about this street gang,” Sargetti said. “How do they fit into this?”
“The Scorpions?” Crosby replied. “They’re a bunch of wise-ass punks with a bad attitude. Their specialty is making trouble. As far as we can tell, they’ve pretty much got about a twenty-block chunk of the city carved out as their territory, and they’ve got it locked down pretty well. As far as they’re concerned, they own that part of the city. And the bad news is that the residents there pretty much agree.”
“According to what we heard,” Agent Casper said, “those Scorpions found Francesca’s old driver’s license.”
“More like ripped it off somewhere,” Crosby replied. “Don’t think for a minute that the Scorpions stay just in their own territory. That’s one of the poorest parts of the city. If they’re hunting for cash, then they’re going to be looking in other places.”
“Which means that most likely Francesca isn’t anywhere near the Scorpions.” Rockford realized.
“Of course not. Would you want to live in a place like that? Especially if you came from money, like I’m guessing this woman did?”
“Lots of money,” Rockford confirmed.
“I rest my case,” Crosby said.
When the car finally pulled up in front of the Scorpion’s building, Crosby was almost surprised to see that the police tape was still there. More often than not, the gang members ignored the tape and ripped it away. Hopefully, his crime scene would still be intact. But this was New York, he had no doubt it wouldn’t stay intact for long…if it was even intact now.
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He had been killing time, watching out his window again, when he saw the big black car pull up in front of the building next door. It didn’t say police on it and he didn’t see any lights on it either. Who had a car like that? He watched as three men and a woman got out of the car and headed for the Scorpion’s door. Two of the men were wearing nice suits. He thought he recognized the other man as one of the men who had been there last night with the police.
He wasn’t going to learn anything at all sitting and looking out his window. As fast as he could, he went up into the attic and crossed into the other building. By the time he got to his usual watching spot, he saw all of those people carefully searching the room below him. What were they looking for? As he watched, the woman with them went into the little office to search. She came out again a few minutes later. He had no doubt at all that she hadn’t found the hidden crack in the wall behind that pile of junk. But then, he was pretty certain that even the Scorpions didn’t know about it.
“What’s up there?” he heard one of the men ask when he got to the door leading to the staircase.
“The Scorpion’s flop house,” he heard the policeman reply. “We checked it last night and found nothing. Third floor’s a total bust. Nothing at all up there.”
“You looked?”
“Last night.”
“We’ll look again,” the man in the nice suit said.
He watched the people below him for a long time. He knew that two of the men were searching the second and third floors. He had no idea what they were looking for. There was nothing to find up there at all. Down below, where he could see, he saw the woman and the guy from the police finally give up. They stood together waiting for the other men. Talkative, they weren’t. He wasn’t learning anything at all. Still, he waited and watched. Eventually the two men came back down and said they didn’t find anything.
“I told you,” he heard the policeman say.
He watched as they all went out the door. As he backed his way through the air vent, he couldn’t help but wonder who the people had been? He was pretty sure one of them was a cop, but he didn’t get that feeling from the other three.
Once he was back in his own apartment and everything was put away where it should be, he looked out the window again. The big black car was gone. He decided that early or not, he would head for that church. Maybe if he knocked on that side door he could get in early. Then he could get his box back.
Chapter 7
Sister Agnes and Father Joseph were working on the noon meal for the needy when they heard someone knocking on the door. Since they were both b
usy at the moment, they ignored it. Whoever it was, knocked again, then a minute later, they heard that person pounding on the door.
“Someone sounds desperate to get in,” Father Joseph noted. He started to leave the kitchen.
“I’ll get it,” Sister Agnes told him. While whoever it was began pounding again, she left the kitchen and crossed through the dining room toward the door. The pounding came again as she started to open the door. She was surprised to see who was there. “David. What are you doing here? We don’t open until noon.”
“I need to see Father Joseph right away,” he told the nun. “It’s important!”
Sister Agnes looked at him for a moment, then said, “Come in, David.”
He pushed his way past her and hurried into the dining room. He looked around but didn’t see the priest.
“This way,” Sister Agnes told him. “He’s in the kitchen.”
He followed the nun through the door leading into the kitchen. He saw the priest working there. Like the nun, he was wearing a big white apron.
“David!” Father Joseph exclaimed. “I’m surprised to see you so soon.”
“I need that box!” he told the priest. “It’s important!”
“Important? Yesterday you couldn’t wait to get rid of it.”
“That was yesterday. Now I need it.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have it anymore.”
He was shocked. “You don’t?”
“No. I gave it to a friend of mine with the police. He’s the best person to know what to do with the things in that box.”
“But I need it!” he said. “I need it bad!”
“Why?”
“Because there’s something else in there that I didn’t know about before.”
“What?”
But he didn’t want to say. “Something important!”
Father Joseph looked at him. He also remembered that Detective Crosby had wanted to talk to this boy right away. “Maybe I can get it back for you. Will you stick around for a little while and let me make a call?”
“I’ll wait all day. As long as it takes, if I can get it back.”
Father Joseph nodded. “Stay here with Sister Agnes while I make a phone call. Maybe she can find something for you to do.”
He watched as Father Joseph, apron and all, walked out of the kitchen area. At least it sounded like he might have a chance of getting the box back. But he realized something else. If Father Joseph had given that box to the police, then that was more proof that what he had heard about priests was wrong. They didn’t keep any secrets. This was more proof that Father Joseph had a big mouth. In this case, too big a mouth.
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Crosby was frustrated by the three FBI agents. Why were they hanging around his desk talking about what they should do next? They had their own entire building in New York. A big one! Why did they have to invade his desk, his space? But since they were there, all he could do was sit in his chair and watch as they tried to figure out what to do. He could have told them. It was easy. There was nothing they could do. Nothing at all. That woman was gone. Long gone. All she had left behind was a stolen driver’s license from a long time ago.
His phone ringing barely brought more than a look from each of the agents as he reached to answer it. “Hello?”
“Detective Crosby? It’s Father Joseph.”
“Father. What can I do for you?”
“The boy you were interested in, the one who brought me the box? He’s here right now. But I’m afraid he’s insisting that he needs that box back. He’s rather anxious about it I’m afraid. He claims there was something else in it that he didn’t know about, and evidently he needs it pretty badly.”
“What?”
“He refused to say. He just wants the box back. Is there any chance you can bring it?”
Crosby looked up at the FBI agents. He waved his hand at them to interrupt their conversation. “Father, our people have been going through that box. There’s a lot of stolen goods in it. Credit cards, driver’s licenses, other things.” He could tell he now had the attention of the three agents.
“I know,” Father Joseph replied. “That’s why I gave it to you. But now the boy is here, and he wants it back.”
“Listen,” Crosby said. “I need to talk to him pretty badly. Can you keep him with you until we get there?”
“He said he’d be willing to wait all day if it meant he could get that box back. So whatever was in it, had to mean an awful lot to him.”
“Yeah. It sounds like it. I’ll grab the box when we come. You just keep him.”
“Detective,” Father Joseph said, “Come to the side entrance where we run the soup kitchen. We, including the boy, will be in the kitchen. Just knock and one of us will open the door for you.”
“We’re on our way, Father,” Crosby said. He hung up the phone and addressed the agents. “The boy who found the box suddenly needs it back. Badly! He’s at one of the catholic churches in town right now. The priest I just talked to is keeping him there for us.”
“Let’s go,” Rockford said.
“Hold on!” Crosby insisted. The three agents were all looking at him now. “I want to be the one to question the boy, not you. That box is part of my case!”
“Sorry,” Rockford told him. “We’re going to be there.”
“Fine, you can listen, but I’m the one who will lead the questioning. Otherwise, you can all wait here. I won’t tell you where that kid is.”
Rockford looked at him, frustrated. “Okay. Fine! Lead the way. But we’ll take our car again.”
On the way out, Crosby stopped at one of the aide’s desks. The desk was covered with piles of credit cards, licenses, and other things. “Put it all back in the box,” he told the woman. “Everything! I need it all.” A minute later he had the box and was heading with the three FBI agents back to their big black SUV.
--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---
The apron they were forcing him to wear came down past his knees. As long as nobody saw him, he didn’t care. Sister Agnes had him stacking plates where Father Joseph could easily grab them as he dished out the food for the people that came in. He was still doing that when he heard a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it this time,” Father Joseph said. He removed his apron and hurried out through the dining room. He opened the door and was surprised to see not just Detective Crosby there, but three other people as well. “It’s good to see you, Detective,” he said. “You got here quickly.”
“We had to,” Crosby replied. “Where’s the boy?”
“This way,” Father Joseph told him. “He’s helping out in the kitchen.” He led the four people through the door to where the boy and Sister Agnes were working.
“David,” he called as he went through. “This is the policeman I gave your box to.”
He was already looking at the people who had come in though. He recognized them all. But the one thing his eyes were drawn to, was the box that the policeman was holding. “My box!”
He hurried over to grab it, but the detective held it back where he couldn’t get it. “Not yet!” he said. “We need to talk first.”
“I need that box!” Brian told him.
“Not until we talk.”
“Why? I didn’t take any of that stuff, just the box. I just didn’t know there was something else in it that belonged to my mother. You can have it back after I get it.”
“Why don’t we go out and sit down,” the detective told him, purposely ignoring what the boy had said.
Brian pulled his apron off and followed the police out to one of the tables. He sat in one of the chairs and one of the policemen sat across from him with the box on the table, but still in his hands.
“Can I have it now?” Brian asked.
“What’s your name?”
“Nobody.”
“Nobody is not a name.”
“It is for me.”
“Who’s your mother?”
“Mom.”
“What’s your mother’s real name.”
“Mom Nobody.”
“Don’t get smart with me,” Crosby said menacingly.
“Then don’t get stupid with me,” Brian returned.
Crosby was shocked. “You’ve got one hell of a nerve!”
“Thanks,” Brian replied. “Now I need that box. It’s mine!”
“Bullshit!” Crosby said. “This box contains stolen items. Stolen identifications and credit cards. How do we know you’re not the one who took them?”
“All I did was take it from the Scorpions. I didn’t steal what’s in it.”
“And how are we to know that?”
“You don’t! Look, I just need to look through the box to find one thing. Just one thing. Then you can have it back.”
“What are you looking for.”
“Something that belongs to my mother.”
“What’s her name? I’ll tell you if it’s in the box or not.”
He was stymied…for now. He changed direction. “Did you find what you were looking for in the Scorpions building this morning?”
“How the hell did you know we were there.”
“I saw you. All of you. I saw you there last night too.”
“You’re one of the Scorpions!”
“Hell no. The only thing I want with the Scorpions is to see them all dead.”
“Then how did you know we were there.”
“I just did. I’ve got eyes. Who was killed besides Little Paul? I’m pretty sure Cougar was one of them, but I couldn’t see who else got it.”
“How do you know Little Paul and Cougar were murdered? Did you see who did it?”
“Are you going to give me the box back?”
This time Crosby was stymied. He looked briefly up at Rockford who looked just as surprised as he was. He looked back at the boy. “Did you see who did it?”
“I saw them, but I don’t know who they were.”
“Can you describe them?”
“Are you going to give me the box?”
“Yes, if you answer all our questions.”
“No. I can’t answer all of them. But…maybe some of them if it will get me that box.”