Cold Justice

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Cold Justice Page 2

by Rick Polad


  “I don’t know, Joey.”

  “How about justice, Manning?”

  I laughed. “Really? How do you make your money?”

  He ignored me. “Really. I didn’t do it, so there is some guy out there who did. There’s a murderer out on the streets. The public ain’t safe.”

  I laughed again. “Since when did you become interested in the welfare of the public?”

  “Hey, I’ll get you a room full of people in the neighborhood who’ll tell you they ate at Christmas because of me.”

  I knew that was true. “This is someone dedicated to you, Joey. No one else is in danger here.” I was right, but so was he. Justice had never caught up with him. So maybe it was okay if justice caught up with him for the wrong thing. But there was a guy on the street who might get away with murder if Joey was being framed.

  “Okay. I’ll take the five grand. You talk to your lawyer, and I’ll be back this afternoon and we’ll chat again.”

  He just nodded, trying to look his usual crime boss self, but he didn’t quite pull it off. The look in his eyes wasn’t all that sure.

  Chapter 2

  The office was only a few blocks out of the way home, so I stopped to check in with Carol. Piles of snow from the storm two days ago were starting to turn dirty. Didn’t take long in the city. A gray, end-of-January day didn’t do much to warm up the fifteen-degree temperature, and another storm was on its way, but the days were getting longer. A few more minutes of sun every day would soon turn into spring.

  I had a plow service clear the spaces in the rear of the building, and they had done their job. When I got the door open I saw Carol turning around to make sure it was me.

  “Morning, Spencer.”

  “Good morning, Carol. Beautiful day.”

  “Yes. I figured you’d be home sleeping after last night.”

  “Something came up. But I’m heading there soon.”

  I hung up my coat on the rack in the hall, and as I turned into my office I heard a low growl that stopped me. Carol turned toward me looking sheepish.

  “Did you growl?” I asked.

  She beckoned me toward her and pointed to the front of her desk.

  I walked around and discovered the source of the growl. Lying curled up on the floor in front of the desk was a black and white Alaskan husky with a red bandanna around his neck. I glanced at Carol and she scrunched up her face.

  “I don’t know what the policy on pets is,” she said with a smile.

  “I don’t either. Don’t think there is one.” I bent down and held out my hand. He sniffed it and didn’t seem to object. “Is there a story here?”

  “Billy found him curled up in front of our door this morning. He was shivering.”

  I reached out and rubbed his head. “I would think so.”

  “We brought him in, got him warmed up, and gave him some food. I took Billy to school and brought him over here.”

  He didn’t object to my rubbing his head. “No collar.”

  “Nope. Do we have to report him?”

  “I’ll check with the police and see if there are any missing dog reports.”

  “What if there aren’t? Billy wants to keep him.”

  “Of course he does, but one step at a time, beautiful.”

  “He wanted to name him, but I wouldn’t let him. He looked so sad.”

  I put my hand on her shoulder. “If it helps any, you did the right thing. Naming something makes it yours and would have made it even harder to say goodbye.”

  I picked up a dart from the tray on her desk and threw it at the board I had hung on the west wall. I almost missed the board. There were two hooks… one at regulation height and one at Billy height. I left my weak effort in the cork and headed for my office.

  As I entered the hallway, she asked, “Are you going home?”

  I laughed. “If I don’t get some sleep I won’t be able to think.”

  “Do you have something to think about?”

  “I do.” I filled her in. Her jaw dropped more with every sentence.

  “That’s big news, Spencer. But there was nothing in the Trib.”

  “No, not yet. They’re making sure they have their bases covered. Check the evening edition. It’ll be the whole front page… no matter what happens.”

  “This is so exciting! Maybe the biggest case in the history of Chicago, and we’re in on it.”

  I laughed. “Calm down, Carol. This city has some history that puts Joey Mineo way down on the list of biggest cases.” I saw her look of disappointment and said, “But it sure beats a stakeout in the middle of a cold night.”

  She smiled. “So what’s the next step?”

  “Pick up a check and have a chat with a couple of guys in an ice cream parlor… after a few hours of sleep, that is.”

  “You could sleep upstairs.”

  I had also rented the second-floor apartment above the office. I had brought in a bed and a change of clothes to use for quick naps. “I could also use a hot shower and some breakfast. I’ll be back this afternoon. Will you be here all day?”

  “I will now. I don’t want to miss any of this. Billy is coming here after school. He’ll be happy playing with the dog. You’ll check and see if any have been reported?”

  “Right now.”

  I called Stosh.

  “After what I just gave you, you’re asking about a dog?”

  “Life goes on, Stosh. Besides, the dog’s more important.”

  He said he’d find out and have someone get back to me.

  “Get back to Carol. She’s manning the phones.”

  He hung up.

  Chapter 3

  Joey ran an ice cream parlor with a soda fountain that was a front for whatever else kept him busy from day to day. The name on the sign over the door was “Ice Cream Parlor.” Brilliant.

  While working on the Riverview case, I’d had several conversations with Joey that brought me into the guarded room at the back of the parlor. I was hoping this visit would get me something besides a check.

  A little bell rang as I opened the door, and the moose sitting at the back of the room guarding the door to Joey’s office looked up from the paper spread out on a round table. He was a large, barrel-chested man with more than one chin and wore a brown suit that was at least a size too small. I had the feeling he was not comfortable in suits, but Joey, the best-dressed man in town, liked his help to look respectable. He wouldn’t be able to move his bulk very quickly, but I was sure the gun under his jacket would be out in the blink of an eye if need be. An unlit cigar was held between his teeth. Joey didn’t like smoke. It ruined his clothes. Despite several visits, I didn’t know the moose’s name. Finding out was on my list.

  There was a woman sitting at the counter. She was about thirty, and her legs weren’t long enough to reach the foot rail. A round face, short black hair, and no makeup left the impression of someone who didn’t leave an impression… except for the fact that I was pretty sure she had been sitting at that same counter the last time I was here during the Riverview case. We had locked eyes in the long mirror on the back wall as she watched me walk to the back office. That was the only time anyone besides the moose and the guy behind the counter had been there. This time she didn’t look up from the paper she was reading as she picked up a cup of coffee. I sat down next to the moose.

  “Boss ain’t here,” he said. The cigar didn’t move.

  “I already know that.”

  He had no response, except for squinted eyes—I had confused him. I got the feeling he thought that if I knew Joey wasn’t there, then I shouldn’t be either.

  “You gotta name?” I asked.

  Still no response.

  I tried again. “Marty in?” Marty, who shared the back office, was Joey’s bookkeeper. That wasn’t quite true. There weren’t any books—they were all in Marty’s head.

  “Why do you want to see him?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe talk about where Joey is.”

 
“He don’t know.”

  “We’ve already been down this road. I do. Maybe Marty would like to know. Whaddya think?”

  “You packin’?”

  “Nope.”

  “And you won’t mind if I check.”

  “Suit yourself.” I took off my coat and he checked.

  The moose knocked on the door to the back office, and ten seconds later a horizontal window slid open. Moose explained and Marty opened the door, then sat on the couch. The plush red chair behind the oak desk seemed ominously empty.

  “Manning,” he said with a slight nod.

  “Marty.” I nodded back.

  He said nothing. No suit for Marty. Not visible to the public, he got by with a still classy, burgundy cardigan sweater and very expensive shoes.

  Looking to start a conversation, I asked, “So what am I doing here?” I turned the chair in front of the desk to the couch and sat. Since Marty didn’t bite, I continued. “You know where Joey is?”

  “You here to see Joey?”

  The ice was broken. “Well, if I was looking for Joey I wouldn’t be here, ‘cuz here he isn’t. But since I do know where he is I figured I’d share.”

  Marty did know the cops had Joey. Joey lived with some of his boys who would have called Marty as soon as the cops left. But he didn’t know why or where.

  The blank stare I got was why Marty was so valuable to Joey. Every transaction for every one of Joey’s accounts was in Marty’s head. If anyone wanted to see Joey’s books, the response would be, there aren’t any. After all, it was just an ice cream parlor… and for that there were probably books that showed the company was run at a loss.

  After enough silence, he said, “So share.”

  “You know the cops have him.”

  That didn’t phase him.

  He crossed his legs. “What for this time?”

  “Murder.”

  Marty laughed. Not just a chuckle, but a loud, long laugh that probably woke up the moose on the other side of the door. “Well that’s a new one, Manning. Who’s he supposed to’ve killed?”

  “Max Schloff.”

  More laughter. “Max Schloff? That two-bit piece of garbage?”

  I nodded. “That’s the one.”

  “That’s absurd. Where is this supposed to have happened?”

  “In an alley.”

  “How?”

  “Shot.”

  He laughed again. “The boss doesn’t carry a gun, and he certainly wouldn’t be in an alley. Lawyers will have him out by noon.”

  “Not this time.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “That means they haven’t charged him yet. Just holding him for questioning.”

  “Which means they don’t have the evidence. You want a cigarette?”

  “Nope.”

  He lit one and turned on an exhaust fan.

  “I thought Joey didn’t like smoke.”

  He just blew out a cloud and stared at me. I knew Joey wasn’t there. He didn’t have to point out the obvious.

  “Actually it means just the opposite,” I said. “They’ve got him cold. Eyewitness.”

  Another laugh but not quite as loud. “So why isn’t he charged?”

  “They’re being careful.”

  His eyes narrowed. “So why are you here?”

  “Joey hired me. Told me to tell you to write a check for five grand.”

  “Did he actually say ‘write a check’?”

  I saw the problem. “No. He said for you to give me five Gs. I added the check part.”

  He stared at me for less than ten seconds, then set his cigarette in a crystal ash tray, walked to the other side of the desk, and bent down. He came up with a stack of hundred dollar bills and handed them to me.

  “That was easier than I thought it would be,” I said.

  “Whaddya mean?”

  I shrugged. “I could be making up a story.”

  “And you could be trying to swim on the bottom of the river, but I figure you’re not that dumb.”

  “Good to know.” I folded the bills in two and added them to the six bucks in my pocket. I didn’t count it.

  “So what else you need, Manning?”

  “For starters, a list of the people who work for Joey… names, addresses.”

  He blew out a cloud of smoke. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope. Why? Is that a problem?”

  “You don’t exactly see our names on billboards. Stay alive longer that way. And out of jail. Understand?”

  I told him I did, but that his boss didn’t have that luxury at the moment and was looking to me to fix that.

  “And you think one of us has something to do with this?”

  “I don’t think anything yet. But I need to start somewhere, and talking to the people he spends time with seems like a good idea. Maybe somebody saw or heard something that might help.”

  “Don’t think the boss would want me to give out names.”

  I shrugged. “Do you think the boss would like to look at life in prison?”

  “It was somebody mad at the boss. You’re looking in the wrong spot.”

  “You just gave me five grand, Marty. I get to decide how to earn it. If he was set up—”

  “What the hell you mean, if? He wouldn’t do something that dumb. Who cares about that bastard Schloff? And I’ve never seen the boss with a gun.”

  Marty was sitting up straight on the edge of the couch. I waited for him to calm down as he blew out some more smoke. I wished Joey was here. I wasn’t all that fond of smoke myself.

  “What do you know about Schloff?” I asked.

  “He was a worthless piece of garbage.”

  “Did he work with the outfit?”

  He glared at me. “First of all, there isn’t an outfit. Second, Schloff was a loser… nobody wanted him around.”

  “Okay, Marty… give me a name. Give me the man Joey pissed off who would want to set him up.”

  He laughed. “The man? I could give you a hundred.”

  “My point exactly. So here seems to me a better place to start. I’m not accusing anyone… just gathering information. Looking for a place to start.” I didn’t know if he had something to hide or was just frustrated because he didn’t know where to start looking any more than I did.

  “How about this, Marty? You give me names and I talk to them here.”

  He blew out a cloud of smoke and said, “Okay, Manning. You and me talk to them here.”

  I smiled. “No, just me. Who’s going to talk with a pipeline to Joey sitting in the room?”

  After a bit more verbal jousting he finally gave in.

  “So who are we talking about, Marty? There’s you and the moose guarding the door and the soda jerk. Who else?”

  “Nobody else… and the guy behind the counter is just a soda jerk. He comes to work and goes home.”

  “But in between he sees everyone who comes in here. What’s his name?”

  “Jimmy Smith.”

  “Smith? Really?”

  He shrugged.

  “That’s what’s on his paperwork?”

  “What paperwork?”

  A knock on the door drew his attention. He walked over and slid open the window. I couldn’t hear the conversation. When he sat back down I asked what was up.

  “Seems the boss is in jail.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  He just stared at me.

  “How long has Jimmy worked here?”

  “Going on six years.”

  “Who hired him?”

  “What do you mean, who hired him?”

  I spread my arms, palms up. “Pretty easy question. Who hired him?”

  “The boss hired him. Who else?”

  “And the boss would be…?”

  “I don’t have time for games, Manning.”

  I noted that he didn’t answer the question and moved on.

  “And what about the muscle outside the door?”

  “Mike
DaVita. Ten years.”

  “And how about you?”

  “How about me what?”

  “Last name?”

  He took a deep breath and sighed, giving in. “Sparin.”

  I looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Shortened from what?”

  After glaring at me for a sufficient amount of time to make his point, he said, “Sparini.”

  “And you’ve been here…?”

  “Forever.”

  I knew that was the best I was going to get.

  He got up as someone knocked twice on the door.

  “Yeah?”

  “Lunch is here.”

  “Be right out.”

  I had one more question. I didn’t think it would work, but I tried anyway. “And how about his bodyguard?” No one I knew of had ever seen Joey with a bodyguard. The line was either the guy was the best there ever was, or he didn’t have one. Joey was known to be on the frugal side. The threat of a bodyguard didn’t cost a cent.

  “That’s not something I can talk about, Manning… no matter how much you just got paid.”

  “So you’re saying there is a bodyguard?”

  “I’m saying you wanna talk bodyguard you gotta talk to the boss.”

  I knew that was the end of that road. “And how about a driver?”

  “Kid named Danny Primo. Been here about a year.”

  “Okay. I’m going to have another chat with Joey this afternoon. I’ll ask him about the bodyguard.”

  “You do that.”

  “Anything you want me to tell him?”

  He ignored that. “When’s he getting out?”

  “No clue. When I left there they hadn’t charged him yet. They have to do so or let him go. I assume his lawyers are working on it.”

  He just nodded.

  “I’ll let myself out.” I looked back as I closed the door. He was staring at the wall. And if it wasn’t him who had set up Joey, he was probably hoping he got to the guy before me.

  I closed the door, turned to the corner, and said, “See ya, Mike.”

  He looked surprised.

  The soda jerk watched me walk out into the gray day. The girl at the counter was gone.

  Turning up my collar and pulling on my gloves, I glanced up at the apartments over the grocery across the street. A curtain fluttered in a second floor window. And, being winter, the window was closed. Someone was watching the neighborhood. For some, that was all there was to do, especially on a day like today.

 

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