The Cult of the White Owl

by Barbara Lefka

  DISCLAIMER

  ALL RIGHTS TO THIS PUBLICATION ARE RESERVED. THIS BOOK IS A WORK OF FICTION AND ANY REFERENCE TO PEOPLE OR PLACES ALIVE OR DECEASED IS UNINTENTIONAL AND IN NO WAY RELATES TO REAL SITUATIONS.

  © 2019 Barbara Lefka. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  ISBN 978-1-54397-016-6 eBook 978-1-54397-017-3

  To Maurice my husband, My Son Jay M Lefka,

  His beautiful wife Heather,

  My Amazing Grandchildren; Cole, Bryce and Delaney

  who captured my heart

  and to my Sister Judy who was always in my life and is part of my soul you are loved Judy dear FOREVER………..

  Kevin Lane for mentoring me through all the trials and tribulations of writing and for his kindness and consideration to everyone.

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  Jake Giuliani, Philadelphia’s Top Cop, was lounging on his back porch enjoying the balmy spring weather. He sipped on his ice-cold bottle of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer while watching the smoke trail from his cigarette in the ashtray. His eyes were half closed and his mind drifted mesmerized by the smoke spirals.

  This he concluded was the life, the lilacs were in bloom filling the air with their sensuous perfume, and he inhaled deeply, sipping his beer from the nearly empty bottle. The sun was just going down behind the trees at the edge of his garden and a soft breeze was rustling their leaves, making it sound as though they were having a conversation, deciding the fate of the world.

  Jake stretched his long frame, looking downward to his brown loafers thinking his time at the gym was really paying off. His mind wandered to Annie and the late night they enjoyed. Annie Carr, his aide at headquarters. At first he had serious misgivings about involving himself with someone with whom he worked so closely. But Annie allayed his fears about any conflicts. She was a model of efficiently, and knew their occasional dates were not indicative of a relationship. No pressure there. Still he loved the way her blonde curls wrapped around his fingers when he caressed the back of her neck. She would look up at him, her copper colored eyes searching his, for what? Whatever it was, she did not find it in his dark eyebrow shadowed blue eyes.

  Jake looked at his watch and rose from the Adirondacks wooden chair he had been reclining in with a yawn, and went into the house. The telephone was harshly ringing, spoiling his mood. He was tempted not to answer at all. He wanted a shower, a steak and no interruptions. Jake had a ring-side seat for the championship-boxing match at the Arena on Market Street. He did not want to miss this particular heavy weight bout. He had a C-note on the champ even though he was a 3 to1 underdog. The champ’s age and his opponents record were against him, but, he still had the finesse of a great boxer, if his legs held up.

  Rocky, his opponent was more of a slugger; he won all his fights by a knockout. This was his first encounter against the champ in a title match.

  Jake took out his ticket and put it on the kitchen counter. He started undressing and kicked off his loafers, whistling to himself he headed for the downstairs shower.

  The telephone persisted its annoying sound, but he kept walking to the bathroom stark naked now, and turned on the hot water… perfect he smiled.

  Jake was toweling off when the phone started ringing again, or did it ever stop? He wrapped the towel around his narrow hips and reached for the receiver, “Guiliani,” he answered. “Mayor?” Jake was surprised at the unexpected call. “What can I do for you? Your wife is missing? What do you mean missing? Okay missing. I’ll be right over, try to stay calm. I’ll be right there.”

  He slammed the phone on its cradle and hurriedly ran up the stairs to get dressed. He pulled on jeans and a light blue cashmere sweater. He looked around for his loafers, and then remembered they were in the kitchen. Jake scrambled down stairs, slipped into his loafers, grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. Remembering the fight ticket on the counter, he went back for it. “Haste makes waste,” he thought. Jake glanced in the mirror, he saw his hair was still mussed up from the shower and hurriedly ran a comb through his close-cropped black hair still advancing toward the door. Adrenalin flowed through his veins as he rushed to the detached garage and into his 1956 black Packard car compliments of the city of Philadelphia, Pa. He slid into the soft leather of the driver’s seat and started the engine. The car’s 8-cylinder engine purred to life in a heartbeat. He was on his way to the mayor’s house on the Philadelphia Main Line a very prestigious neighborhood. A short distance from where Chief Detective Jake Guiliani of the Philadelphia police force lived, but far above his pay grade. This being a Saturday, the traffic was light and Jake made good time driving across town, wondering what that ditzy dame was up to now!

  The mayor, Gerald Woods is a good guy and always stands behind Jake as his chief of detectives, he supports all Jake’s decisions to make Philadelphia safe for the citizens, the law-abiding ones anyway.

  Mrs. Caterina Woods was another story, she met Gerald when he was on tour with his Army unit in Russia and she dug her claws in deep. He adored her, would do most anything she asked and she asked for plenty. Caterina was quite a bit younger than Gerald, which she used to her advantage. She was poor as dirt in Russia, during what was laughingly called the reconstruction. She saw her chance to get out by marrying Gerald and she took it. Gerald was Colonel Woods back then, he pulled strings and married her right there outside the Kremlin in what used to be a Russian Orthodox Church. The church was so picturesque, a miniature St. Basils with its onion domes in vibrant colors. An Army chaplain married them in that lovely church, and they had their reception in the Non-Commissioned Officers Club because Colonel Woods’s men wanted to celebrate with him. He was that kind of man, down to earth, a team player. His soldiers would have been shocked to know he came from wealth, dairy cows in the rich grasslands around Brandywine. The farm, acres of it, has been in the Woods family for generations. Gerald, Gerry to his friends, was not a farmer; he left that to a team of experts who kept the farm in the black and the cows healthy and producing. His love was politics and he used his money, a winning smile, his free and easy style of speaking plus his war record to get him elected mayor. However, his eye was on the governorship eventually.

  “Now this!” Jake thought.

  “Where is this coming from, an enemy, a shake down, revenge?” Jake pondered while he drove the big car expertly through the light traffic. “Damn probably there goes my evening at the Arena. I guess I’ll find out soon enough. Here I am.” Jake thought as he pulled into the fron
t driveway of the large redbrick colonial house. He went up the few steps to the lacquered black front door and started to raise the brass knocker, when the door was thrust open to reveal the haggard face of the mayor.

  “So glad to see you man! Cat is gone, disappeared, kidnapped, or worse.

  When I came home from the office she wasn’t home. She is always here, waiting for me. I searched the house; everything is still here; her car, her coat, bag, wallet, everything, and no trace of her!”

  Gerry put his hand on Jake’s arm, exhausted from the strain of his last few hours. Jake led him onto a chair in the living room and poured them both a drink from a convenient decanter of scotch whisky. The mayor though once a teetotaler was now quite a heavy drinker.

  “Do you think she might be at a neighbors?” Jake asked, trying to get his thoughts around this unexpected problem within the law enforcement community.

  “I haven’t wanted to ask anybody, I only called you, for some reason I am ashamed!” Gerry blurted out, biting his lip. “She does not know the neighbors, she would never visit them, under any circumstances.”

  “What do you have to be ashamed of, don’t go there! There is nothing!” Concerned for his friend and boss, Jake poured another drink, but not for himself. He needed a clear head. This was getting complicated.

  “Could someone have picked her up for shopping or visiting?”

  Or has anyone contacted you for a ransom or left you a note or telephoned? Anything?” Jake queried.

  Gerry gazed off into space, then shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, just recently showing strands of grey. He set down his empty glass, rose from his chair and started to pace, back and forth across the room.

  “I waited for you and your expertise to go over the house to see if there are any clues to her disappearance.”

  “Let’s start in the bedroom, maybe we can figure out what she was wearing when she vanished. Any in depth search will have to wait for the team tomorrow, they have all the equipment.”

  “Thanks Jake I knew I could count on you to help me figure this madness out! This way!” The mayor led him into the center hall and up the sweeping staircase to the master bedroom on the second floor.

  The bedroom was not neat, clothes were scattered on the floor, on chairs and hanging from the towel bar in the bathroom. Shoes and boots were tossed helter-skelter on the floor and under the bed. Her purses were hanging off the back of the bedroom chairs by their straps and silk stockings were hanging out of the drawers they were stuffed into.

  “The maid did not show up today and Cat doesn’t raise a finger in the cleaning department, the only good thing is, I can pretty much tell what she wore for the last two days.”

  “Where are your clothes and personal items Gerry? I don’t see you anywhere.’

  “To tell you the truth Jake, we have separate bedrooms. I go to bed late and I get up too early for Caterina’s satisfaction. Besides I am a stickler for order, and as you can see, Caterina is disorganized. It would drive me crazy, to live in a room like this.”

  “Do you know what she had on this morning?” Jake asked, looking around at the messy room, agreeing with the mayor whole heartily.

  “She was in bed wearing Chanel Number 5, naked like a Marilyn Monroe poster and out like a light, when I left for work she was still sprawled on the covers, so I can’t be sure.” Gerry smiled, remembering.

  “Okay, okay, can you figure out from the clothes strewn around and what’s hanging in her closet, what she might have put on?” Jake watched Gerald move to the closet as he was talking.

  Gerald looked in the walk-in closet, Jake right behind him, the mayor was shaking his head in a negative manner, bewildered by all the clothes, shoes, bags, open drawers, their contents spilling out onto the closet floor.

  “This is impossible, wait a minute, wait a minute, I don’t see her emerald ring, she always keeps it here in this crystal box!” The box was empty and on its side,

  “It’s gone!”

  “She must have it on her finger, so that’s a good thing, a place to start!” Jake left the closet, the mayor following.

  “Does she have an appointment book, a journal, where she writes down a to-do list?” Jake asked.

  “Maybe on her dressing table, or in the drawer. She doesn’t have a desk. I take care of all the bills at the office.” They started going through her drawer and found nothing significant. “While we are at it maybe we should search all the drawers?” Jake asked. The mayor nodded permission and helped Jake go through her chest of drawers, searching under her sweaters, tops, and lingerie. Hidden under her bras and panties they found an envelope with a letter that appeared well read and a small photograph of an attractive man. “Whoa, what is this?” Jake asked.

  “You mean who is this? I have no idea!” The mayor answered his own question.

  “You don’t know this guy?” Jake wondered, turning the picture over in his big hands. “Good looking man, looks tall, certainly is dark skinned”

  “Never laid eyes on him in my life!” looking back at Jake, the mayor was gruff and evasive.

  “There is a studio name on the back of the picture, I can barely make it out. It looks like Tony McCane Photography on Broad Street. I know his studio. He is famous for his portraits of woman. Tony is in demand, he photographs the city’s debutantes and socialites, a great person, very well liked. I will have a talk with him tomorrow. May I keep this photo?” At Gerald’s nod, Jake pocketed the picture.

  “What does the letter say?” Jake wanted to know. The mayor seemed reluctant to share its contents with his chief of detectives.

  “Gerald, Mr. Mayor, don’t keep anything that may be of help in finding your wife, a secret! Every minute is important! We want to find her as quickly as possible, so the contents of that letter may be a clue to her whereabouts.” Jake held out his hand for the letter. The mayor slowly gave it up.

  “This letter is written in stilted English a note really, and hard to read. The only piece of information I can derive from this letter is; she is here in Philadelphia looking for the man in the photo but does not name him and her name is Natalie! Do you know her Gerry?”

  “I met her with Caterina briefly, in Russia. But I don’t know her at all, just that she was Caterina’s friend. She was pretty fast and loose. I did not approve of her being Cat’s buddy!” He frowned at the letter in Jake’s hand.

  “The envelope is postmarked about a year ago, so she has been here over a year. Do you know if she contacted your wife in that time?”

  Gerry shook his head “No idea.”

  “I am going to need all the help I can get do you have a recent photo of your wife?” Jake asked taking a last look around the room.

  Gerald reluctantly removed a picture of the two of them from its silver frame. It was taken at the South Jersey shore, while on vacation. Caterina loved that picture. Gerald handed it to Jake. The mayor’s hand was shaking uncontrollably, he had the eeriest feeling he was saying good-bye to his wife.

  “Unless you can figure out what clothing she was wearing, besides the missing emerald ring, we have nothing else to go on, right? Clothes make the occasion. If we had a hint, was it a lunch date, shopping trip, a milk run...”

  “Remember Jake she had no car, no identification, no wallet.”

  “You are absolutely right and I think that makes her disappearance even more mysterious. Did she wear the ring? Because you said she only wore the ring on special occasions. Why would she wear it this morning, assuming she left the house with it on her finger?” Jake asked studying the picture the mayor had given him. “It sounds like a jewel she would wear to a party or gala?”

  “Yes, every chance she could. Why do you think that is significant?”

  The mayor asked escorting Jake to the door.

  “It’s a puzzle, and until we have all the pieces, it’s all imp
ortant. Gerry I am going to send a detail to your house,” the mayor silently questioned Jake, “because we don’t know how far reaching this goes and I want you to be safe.”

  “Thanks Jake, I appreciate your concern. I’ll try to get some shut eye so I can be of some help to you tomorrow.” Jake waved as he got in his car; maybe, he thought I can still make the main event.

  Jake tuned the car radio onto the fight between Rocky and Jersey Joe, the announcer was saying that the champ was ahead by points, in his opinion. The knock down in the first round went against Rocky and he had been playing catch up ever since. The announcer said that both fighters had cuts over their eyes and were bleeding profusely. Joe had blood down the front of his white satin boxer shorts, probably from Rocky’s eye cut or his own. The punches were coming hot and heavy, the champ was tiring, he was on the ropes and clinched Rocky to him, putting all his weight on Rocky’s shoulders, trying to transfer a lot of his fatigue on to the other fighter. The bell saved Jersey Joe and both fighters went to their separate corners where the trainers worked madly on their injuries. The announcer was stating the obvious; a lot of punches were exchanged, Rocky hitting Joe repeatedly in the abdomen, his philosophy being “Kill the stomach and the head will die!”

  Jake pulled up to the back door of the Arena, in time for the thirteenth round! Jake looked at his watch to see if it would be worth going in, the fight was more than over, but he could hear the crowds screaming. He had a c-note on the champ, an underdog at that. He called over to the cop on duty, showed him his identification and asked him to watch his car. Jake opened the Arena door and walked into a roar. The arena was erupting. He ran down the tunnel and into the stadium, just in time to see Rocky take out the champ, with a right cross to the face and an upper-cut seconds later, to put him on the canvas, where he stayed.

  Jake hugged himself; thrilled that he was there to see the finale of what must have been a bloody fight. The new champion was raising the sparkling belt high above his head, dancing around as though he had just arrived. The ex- champ was crashed in his corner, but, his trainer whispered in his ear, helped him to his feet. Jersey Joe made his way through the crush of people to the center of the ring where the crowds were converging on Rocky, the new champion. Jersey Joe offered his congratulations and shook Rocky’s hand. The radio announcer praised this show of good sportsmanship as the ex-champion left the ring. The adulation of the crowds grew louder for “Rockee, Rockee!”