by Wayne Block
“How so?”
She smiled shyly. “Well, he spoke to me very nicely when I was cleaning his room. He did not treat me like a maid.”
Detective Johnston nodded. “Yes, he’s a very good man. Is there anything else you can tell me about him?”
“He asked many questions about Red Rock Canyon. He was going to hike there and wanted to know if I had ever hiked in the park.”
“What did you tell him?” the detective asked with heightened interest.
“I told him I’d been there once. He was hiking a trail called Turtlehead, but I’d never visited that trail.”
“Do you remember if he was with anyone?”
Sheila looked uncertain, as if she didn’t understand the question.
Detective Johnston bit his lip as he rephrased his question. “Did you see any other guests in the room, or any indication that somebody else may have been staying with him?”
Sheila blushed and lowered her eyes. She shook her head. “I have no idea. I mind my own business when it comes to our guests.”
Detective Johnston glanced at the assistant manager and then back to the chambermaid. “Sheila, I’m certain that you don’t snoop while you’re cleaning. I just thought there might have been something obvious, like lots of opened liquor bottles, half-eaten pizzas, or stacks of casino chips–you know, items in plain view.”
Sheila narrowed her eyes, trying to remember more, but merely shook her head. “No, sir. Nothing besides the Canyon.” She hesitated a moment and looked questioningly at the assistant manager. “Mr. Anders, do you think our guest had something to do with the murders?”
Dillon glanced nervously at the detective and shot back a dirty look at Sheila. “No, Sheila, this has nothing to do with anything that happened in the park. The detective just wanted to know whether you remembered anything about our guest, and it’s obvious you do not. Thank you for your time.” He stood to leave and turned to the detective. “Detective, Sheila’s got a tight schedule. You’ve had your five minutes, now let’s go.”
Detective Johnston stood slowly, looking first at the assistant manager and then back at the chambermaid. “What murders are you referring to, Sheila?”
This time Sheila said nothing, looking wide-eyed at Dillon for permission to speak. Dillon was already halfway to the door.
“Detective, you can read about it in the newspaper,” he said. “I think I have a copy in my office. Neither Sheila nor I know anything about what happened at Red Rock. It seems some people were killed, but Mr. Capresi wasn’t one of them.”
Detective Johnston slowly walked toward the door and turned to look back at Sheila, who was nervously fingering her feather duster. “Sheila, are you telling me some people were killed at Red Rock the same day Mr. Capresi went for a hike?”
The detective knew the answer to his question before it was given.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Detective Johnston found himself on the wrong side of the locked door to Anders’ office, with a copy of the Las Vegas Sun and the phone records to Capresi’s suite. He stumbled upon the Grand Luxe Café, sat at a remote table, and ordered a Margarita pizza and a Coke. Then he settled in to read the article entitled “Massacre at Red Rock.”
The newspaper had a map with markers indicating where the bodies were discovered. On one side of the ridge, three young women were found. There was little information about them. The detective assumed they hadn’t yet been identified, or that their identities were being withheld pending notification of their families. They had each been shot twice in the head prior to being dumped over the summit’s edge. The article focused mainly on a local man named Billy Veeksburn, whose body was discovered on the other side of the ridge from where the women were found. He’d been shot five times in the face and once in the kneecap. The coroner estimated the times of death at between four and six o’clock in the afternoon. The article was both a criminal homicide investigatory piece and an obituary.
Billy Veeksburn had been a local celebrity who had open ties with the Mob. He had been arrested on numerous occasions, but never convicted. The article mentioned a car accident in which Billy had lost most of his ear, which wasn’t a significant fact for the detective. For the last few years, Billy and his partner, Harry Chesney, owned a private investigation firm as well as a local cab company. Detective Johnston sat back in his chair and wondered if Steven was involved. What bothered him most was the execution of three women. It was one thing if Steven killed Veeksburn for revenge, but killing women who were in the wrong place at the wrong time, much like his own family, was something else. The detective thought it a good idea to introduce himself to Veeksburn’s partner.
-----------------
Nick followed Giovanna into her hotel room. The door opened into a small room with a queen-sized bed in the center. Giovanna disappeared into the bathroom while Nick removed the two metal boxes from a shopping bag. He opened the mini-bar and poured himself a glass of vodka.
“Gia, can I make you a drink?”
“No thank you, but make yourself at home.”
He sat on the bed and emptied both boxes. The first items to catch his attention were several passports and photographs mixed with numerous documents and printouts. Nick picked up a passport-sized photograph of a handsome young man just as Giovanna emerged.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“A picture of somebody I don’t know. Here, take a look,” he said, handing her the photograph.
Giovanna froze, mouth agape. Nick looked up to see tears streaming down her cheeks.
Nick stood, placing his hands upon her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
She smiled sadly as the tears flowed freely. “This is my brother, Roberto.”
Nick handed her a passport for Roberto Milani.
“Why would they have Roberto’s passport?”
Nick shook his head as he inspected the other passports. “I really don’t know. Tony’s got two passports here, and so do Sal and Joey. So at least one is a fake.”
Giovanna looked puzzled. “Nick, are there any passports for a man named Giorgio? He’s my cousin, and he worked with my brother. ”
Nick looked confused, although Giovanna was too engrossed in her brother’s passport to notice his expression. “You have a cousin who worked with your brother?”
“Yes,” Giovanna replied. “My cousin Giorgio’s from Realdo. The three of us were inseparable for most of our lives.” She reached into her purse and withdrew a picture that she handed to Nick. “That’s a picture of Giorgio, Roberto, and me.”
Nick studied the photograph and grunted. “Very nice.” Nick quickly flipped through the passports and photos, concluding that the photos of Joey and his partners were interchangeable when different passports were needed. “I don’t see anyone else’s picture. There doesn’t seem to be anything related to a Giorgio, but all of the invoices say ‘Gia’s Pride Imports.’ I assume your brother named the company after you?”
Giovanna nodded.
“I’m certainly no financial expert, but I do have some experience with bookkeeping. If I was a betting man, and I am, I’d say Tony was keeping a second set of records. Let me see the records from Gia’s Pride Imports that you found in your brother’s office.”
Giovanna walked over to the armoire and retrieved two manila envelopes. Nick placed the Italian documents next to the American records spread out on the bed. Giovanna stood over him and peered at the documents, moving her head back and forth from pile to pile, comparing both. “I already see something interesting,” she said.
“What?” Nick asked, turning his head from side to side to stretch his neck muscles.
She took an invoice from each pile and held it in front of him. “These invoices appear to be the same. They’ve got the same dates, invoice numbers, and product descriptions.”
Nick interrupted. “The San Remo invoices show fewer computers shipped than the corresponding JTS invoices for the same shipment.”
Gia nodded h
er head. “These other invoices are similar.”
“The pricing is the same, and based upon the difference in amounts actually shipped from San Remo to Brazil, it looks like about ten percent of the computers were stolen in Italy. I bet Sal and Joey transported the U.S. computers from the warehouse to the docks and were doing the same behind Tony’s back, since they gave money to your brother for his silence. Tony obviously wouldn’t steal from himself.”
“So, if you’re correct about what Sal and Joey were doing, they would have made about twelve thousand dollars on this invoice alone.”
“You catch on quick!”
Giovanna studied the invoices. “But Nick, even though the numbers are different, there’s not a huge difference. The amounts of money shouldn’t be enough to kill for, and as you say, Tony was the victim of the theft, so why would he be killed?”
Nick nodded. “That’s true, but considering the volume, the numbers add up fast. These guys didn’t have to be pigs. They could have sat back and made a little extra money each month on the side. I think Tony had a bad feeling about this account, because he was keeping his own copies. The invoices in Tony’s box are very different from the invoices from your brother’s office.” “Did you see this?” he asked, pointing to one of the invoices she took from her brother’s office. “Look at all these invoices in Tony’s box. Tony signed every single invoice. I don’t think he ever allowed his partners to sign an invoice. But look at Roberto’s invoices: Tony’s signature is forged.”
“Sal and Joey believed Tony was never going to see the phony invoices.”
“That’s right. I don’t know how Joey and Sal were doing this, but they were diverting shipments. I would have to see invoices with the Brazilian company to figure out how they were working with those guys. Based on the dates, it appears they had a good thing going for quite some time.” Nick read a note on Tony’s stationery and handed it to Giovanna. The note was attached to a photograph of a JTS employee. “Check this out.”
Giovanna read the note to Nick:
Have Nick check on Jackie Cairo. I think he’s a snitch. Who is paying him to supply information about JTS? Arrange an “informal” interview with Nick, ASAP after the holiday weekend. What’s going on with the Gia’s Imports account? It’s making me nervous. Call Roberto Milani to discuss the account and meet him in San Remo, but don’t tell Sal and Joey.
Giovanna put the note on the bed and stared at Nick.
“Giovanna, did you notice the date on Tony’s note?”
Giovanna nodded her head. “He wrote this note two days before he was murdered.”
Nick frowned. “Yeah, it looks like I gotta talk to Jackie Cairo. Tony and your brother either simultaneously ordered hits on each other, which doesn’t make sense, or Jackie Cairo ordered the contracts on behalf of someone else to hide his tracks. Believe me, Cairo is not a man capable of ordering a killing, but the weasel knows who it was.”
“Do you know where to find Jackie Cairo?” she asked.
“Not offhand. But I’m going to make some calls. We’ll be able to locate him in a few hours, unless he’s disappeared.”
“Nick, I would like to ask him some questions, so don’t hurt him.”
Nick looked offended. “I just want to talk to him, that’s all.”
She ignored him. “Tony was your friend?”
“Yes.”
“He was killed with his wife at their summer home?”
“Yes.”
“And the little girl and her mom also?”
“Yes, her name was Amanda Capresi. She was a special friend. Someone I knew for many years. She was married to another friend of mine. Amanda was staying at the house with Tony and Rosina for the weekend. She was there with her little girl. She was nine months pregnant.”
“What about the father? Where is he?”
Nick took her hands in his and looked straight into her eyes. “Steven is now on a mission to track down the killers. I couldn’t convince him to change his mind. I have no idea where he is, or if he is alive. He won’t rest until he is dead or he has killed those responsible.”
Giovanna sat quietly for a few more minutes as Nick returned to the documents.
“I want to meet Steven.”
Nick glared at her, his eyes flashing with anger. “No way! Steven’s crazy. If he wants to kill himself, that’s his decision. I’m not going to allow you to be influenced by him! You’ll both be killed. You and I have an agreement. When I say it’s over, it’s over! Capiche?”
Giovanna’s face reddened with anger. “First, I haven’t agreed to your stupid rules, and second, who do you think you are? I’m not some stupid little girl that you can order around! I will meet Steven if, and when, I decide!”
Nick laughed. “You know, you’re very cute when you get angry.”
Giovanna raised her hand to slap him across the face, but he caught her arm mid motion before she made contact.
“That’s not nice.” He pulled her toward him and kissed her hard.
She hurriedly withdrew from him and unsuccessfully tried striking him again. Her eyes were dark and fiery, and locked on his. “Don’t ever try that again because …”
He yanked her to him and kissed her again. This time she did not resist.
His heart felt like it would explode. He felt her breathing quicken as he swept the documents off of the bed.
She tried to protest. “Nick, don’t.…”
He pulled her to him and onto the bed. She kissed him willingly and wrapped herself around him, realizing how desperately she needed this moment. They made love like strangers craving new beginnings.
-------------------
Giovanna walked out of the bathroom. Nick was wearing only his boxers and lay stretched out on the bed. She was admiring his body.
“I must say Mr. Manzione, you are amazing! Was that a part of the full service package you alluded to?”
Nick grinned at her. “No, that was totally customized for you. You are unbelievable!”
They lay down together and she rested her head on his sculpted abdomen. He gently ran his fingers through her thick hair.
“You remind me of my father,” she said.
Nick frowned at the remark, but said nothing. He stroked her forehead with his fingertips.
She moved her hand slowly over each of his rippled muscles. “You’re kind, funny, and quite a gentleman, just like him. My father loved my mother more than anyone else in the world and he wasn’t afraid to show his love or his vulnerability.”
Nick shifted uncomfortably as Gia repositioned her head closer to his belly button. “How could you possibly say I’m like your father? You don’t even know me.”
Giovanna smiled. “No, Nick, I don’t know you, but I believe that underneath that tough, macho exterior is the heart of a very good man. Does it bother you to hear me talk like this?”
Nick closed his eyes again. “No, it never bothers me to hear you talk about anything. I just don’t want to disappoint you or cause you any pain.”
Giovanna lightly patted his chest. “I passed the point of pain long ago,” she sighed. “All I’m trying to do is reconcile the past with the present. One day I believe I’ll be able to put the past behind me, but not yet.”
“I had an older brother. His name was Dante. When I was eight years old, he was killed when a tourist lost control of his car. Dante was walking back from the market with an anniversary gift for our parents. They never got over his death, but you would never have known by watching them with Roberto and me. They were never overprotective, which is what you would expect from parents who lost a child. They refocused their love and energy on each other and smothered us with affection.”
“Why are you telling me this, Gia?”
“I want you to know who I am. I want you to understand where I came from and the blessings that were bestowed upon me before everything was taken away. Perhaps you will come to understand my actions.”
Nick pursed his lips and held in hi
s emotions. “Thank you for confiding in me.”
“What happens now?” she asked.
“We find Jackie Cairo.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Sure Ride Cab Company” was located in the old business district, a short drive from his hotel. Detective Johnston preferred the element of surprise and decided not to make an appointment with Veeksburn’s partner. He had his cab stop down the block from the company’s office to survey the area. Sure Cab had a large garage next to its office building. A smaller office with the sign “V&C Private Investigation” was situated on the other side of the garage. The detective crossed the street and walked by the garage on his way to V&C. The doors were wide open; an empty cab was parked inside and another cab was up on a hydraulic lift. Nobody was inside.
He continued past the garage and opened the door to the office. A middle-aged woman, with a bottle-blonde bouffant hairdo, was seated at the reception desk talking on the telephone. She had a hardened face. Detective Johnston imagined she had been an attractive woman in her prime, but the cigarette in her hand and the overly generous application of ruby red lipstick and blue eye shadow detracted from whatever appeal she had left. The detective patiently waited for her to finish her conversation. She finally hung up, took a last drag off her cigarette, and turned her attention to him.
“May I help you?”
“I hope so,” the detective answered. “I would like to speak with Harry Chesney if he’s here.”
The woman gave him the once over. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No.”
“Are you a reporter?”
Detective Johnston laughed. “No ma’am, I’m no reporter. Why would you ask that question?”
The woman sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “We’ve had a lot of reporters snooping around asking stupid questions.”
“Why?”
Once again the woman closely regarded him. “Don’t you know what happened at Red Rock?”