* * * *
“What do you think?” Richard asked when they were at the car.
“That we should leave the car here, and walk,” Mick replied, getting a lifted finger from Richard before they took his suggestion. “To answer your question, my feelings are about the same as the ones I’ve got about Andy. Either one of them is a great actor, or they had nothing to do with the attack.”
“Maybe your brother lost his memory about setting it up,” Shorty said, smacking his leg and laughing.
“Uh-huh,” Mick replied, but he couldn’t help chuckling. “That would be one coincidence too many.”
“If it wasn’t Trenton, or Andy, who else might have it in for you?” Richard asked, and then waved his hand, negating the question. “If you knew at some point, you don’t remember now.”
“No kidding. Still…” Mick tapped his lip pensively. “Perhaps someone I fired recently?”
“If so, why bring Andy into it?”
“As a fall guy. A spur of the moment decision when he saw Andy at that bar. When we get to the club I want to look at my records to see who I let go in the weeks before the attack.”
“Trenton does the hiring and firing for The Den,” Richard said.
“Okay. It doesn’t mean someone who worked here doesn’t know who Andy is. After all, the clubs are connected and only two blocks apart.”
“Good point,” Richard agreed. “So that’s one option. What about Ed?”
“What would he have to gain?” Mick asked.
“With you out of the picture, he could have figured that Trenton would make him the fulltime manager of The Rainbow. That would probably mean a sizable jump in pay,” Richard replied. “It might be worth our checking to see if he’s got any money problems.”
“Good idea, although I’m not sure how to go about it.”
“Since I work at a bank,” Richard replied, “I might be able to convince our loan officer, or credit analyst, to do some digging. I’d have to tell him why, though.”
“Uh-huh. He’d roll his eyes and ask if you’re crazy.”
“Still, it’s worth a shot, if you’re willing.”
“I am, so give it a try. I’m sure all the information you’d need to give them about Ed is in some file in my office.”
“We’ll look when we get there. Okay, when we get inside,” Richard replied. They were in front of The Rainbow at that point, which was already open for business since it was ten after eleven.
“First things first,” Mick said as they entered. He saw Ed with one of the bartenders and strolled over. When Ed finished, Mick said, “I need to talk to you.”
“Sure. What about?”
“Let’s go to my office.”
With a nod, Ed followed him.
When everyone was seated, Mick said, “I need the keys for the club.”
“What happened to yours?” Ed asked.
“They were taken when I was mugged.”
“When you were what?” Ed exclaimed in apparent dismay.
“Mugged. I wasn’t gone because I had the flu. I was attacked early Thursday morning, right after I left here as far as I can figure. Whoever did it took the keys and my wallet, and left me…well, not to put too fine a point on it, to die. I might have, if Mr. Short hadn’t found me. Right now, that’s beside the point. I presume there’s more than one set of keys.”
“You know there are. The extras are in the safe.” Ed gestured toward it.
Mick grimaced. “There’s another thing I lost when I was attacked. My memory of everything other than who I am.”
“You’re shitting me.” Ed frowned. “You don’t know who attacked you?”
“Not a clue.”
“Well, damn.” Ed got a pen, writing down the safe’s combination for Mick. “What else do you need to know?”
“The password for the computer.”
Ed wrote it down, looking at Mick in question.
“I’m sure I’ll think of a lot more, given time,” Mick told him with a wry grin. “Until then, get back to work while I try to figure out what’s what and see if any of it rings a bell.”
“You’re sure you’re okay?” Ed asked as he got up.
“Physically, I’m fine. Up here—” Mick tapped his forehead, “—it’ll probably take time to remember things, or so I’ve been told. But it’ll happen.”
“I hope so,” Ed replied before leaving the office.
Chapter 6
“What do you think?” Mick asked Richard and Shorty when Ed was gone.
Richard shrugged. “I didn’t get any vibes that he’s behind the attack, or did it himself.”
Mick chuckled. “Maybe everyone I know should be up for an Oscar, because I agree. He seemed genuinely surprised.”
“I’ll still try to find out if he’s got any financial problems,” Richard said.
“Please do.” Mick went to the safe, entered the combination on the key pad, and opened the door. There was a small metal box marked ‘Keys’ on one of the shelves. Inside were two identical sets on rings. He pocketed one of them before looking at what else was in the safe. There was a file folder which contained copies of the various necessary licenses for both the clubs. Underneath it was a second, thick folder holding the W4s and I-9s, which were split into two thinner folders labeled ‘Present’ and ‘Past’. “This could come in handy to find out who I might have fired recently,” he said, setting the ‘Past’ folder on the desk, in case the information wasn’t on the computer. There were also two steel-gray cashboxes, unlocked. One held rolls of change and a few bundles of singles and fives. The other, he discovered, held the previous night’s credit card receipts and, he presumed, cash earnings.
Behind them, he found a smaller, locked, black cash box, which he moved to the desk before seeing if any of the keys on his key ring opened it. None did, but since it had been in the safe, Mick figured the key had to be somewhere. He went back to the safe to check.
“Try these,” Richard said, handing him several keys on a metal ring. “I found them in the desk drawer. They look like ones for the drawer locks on the file cabinets, but maybe we’ll get lucky.”
Mick tried three of them in the box’s lock before the fourth one opened it.
Shorty whistled. “How ‘bout we make a run for the border with this.”
The box held stacks of neatly bundled bills, mostly tens and twenties Mick discovered, but one of fifties and another of hundreds.
“What the hell?” Mick muttered. Seconds later, he was hit by a memory of having seen the box before, but not in the safe. He could visualize someone holding it, as if he was watching what was happening but wasn’t in the room. “But I can’t see the face,” he said under his breath.
“Who’s face?” Richard asked.
Mick held up a finger. “The box is familiar. Like…Okay, I was outside a room, maybe here at the club, and heard a sound like someone was inside so I started to open the door. Whoever it was said, ‘This should cover it.’ They were talking low, but sounded uptight, so I didn’t go in, but I did open the door just a hair more. I wanted to see who was there,” Mick continued as the memory clarified. “I didn’t recognize the voice, but I saw a box like this one being handed to someone.”
“Were they both men?” Richard asked.
Mick closed his eyes, trying to picture it. “I can’t say for sure. The voice could have been male or female and the only light was behind them, so they were in shadow, what little I could see of them. I started to push the door open the rest of the way and…and…” His eyes flew open. “I heard movement behind me, and then something hit me. That’s all I remember.” He stared at the open box. “If it was this one…”
“Then someone who works here has a lot of explaining to do,” Richard said. “How many people know the combination to the safe?”
“You’re asking the guy who barely knew his name a few days ago,” Mick muttered.
“Yeah, sorry. Okay, we know Ed does, and so did you. I wouldn’t be s
urprised if Trenton does, too, plus the bartenders who close out for the night, since there was the box in there with yesterday’s cash and credit card receipts. They probably do that every night.”
“It’s possible the day and night floor managers might, if I had them, for the same reason—if Ed or I weren’t around. But if this is illicit money, and I’m definitely leaning in that direction from what the person said, why is it in the safe where anyone with access could find it?”
“First, no one else would have to know what was in the box, and where the key was—because it was hidden on the ring with the keys for the file cabinets’ drawers,” Richard pointed out. “If I were to make a guess, whoever put it there was in a panic after you were knocked out. They had to do something about you before you regained consciousness, so the guy connected to the club stashed the box in the safe, meaning the transfer took place in here. Then, for whatever reason, they stashed the key with the others and put the ring back in the drawer.”
“Maybe so someone else could use it?” Mick frowned. “Or, they didn’t want to be caught with it, just in case. Yeah, that makes sense, I guess.”
“And the other guy and whoever hit you hauled you to the alley where I found you,” Shorty said. “Once they got you there, they hit you again, harder that time, thinking it would kill you and…well, we’ve already said why they thought they had. The blood and all that.”
“Someone didn’t realize head wounds always bleed like a son-of-a-bitch even if they’re fairly minor,” Richard said dryly. “They should have made sure you died.”
“Thank God they didn’t,” Mick said, shuddering at the thought.
“That’s for damned sure. Anyway, they took your wallet and keys, so it would look like a random mugging, and probably hoped that was the end of it. That you’d remain unidentified, which was stupid because even without ID, the cops would have figured out pretty quickly who you were.”
“Stalling for time, maybe. But why leave the box in the safe, after that night?” Mick asked.
“Because he, we’ll presume it was a male since you don’t have any female employees, figured it was the safest place for the time being. And then you came back, very much alive, and, okay…Why wasn’t it moved as soon as that happened?”
“Why bother?” Mick replied. “I’ve tried to cover the fact I lost my memory, but a smart person might have picked up on it anyway, from the way I reacted to them. He’d figure even if I did get into the safe, I wouldn’t think anything about the box since I undoubtedly wouldn’t remember what was supposed to be in there. Sort of hidden in plain sight at that point.”
“Now, all we have to do is figure out who he is, and what the money’s for,” Richard said.
“Drugs,” Shorty said.
Mick didn’t like that idea, but he knew it was feasible. “So help me God, if Ed, or Trenton, or someone else is selling drugs out of the club, I’ll kill them.”
Richard looked thoughtful, and then shook his head. “They aren’t. They’re being paid off to let someone else do it. Or—” He started pacing. “Yeah, that works,” he said a few moments later. “They’re the middleman between a dealer and his source. The distributor, who could work as a delivery person for one of your suppliers, Mick, brings a load of drugs, which our man passes on to the dealer, who pays him. He takes his cut and gives the rest to the distributor. With all the people who pass through here, the club makes a good cover for that kind of transaction.”
Mick blew out a deep breath as he considered what Richard had said. “It makes sense. I’m still going to kill him.”
“How about we go to the cops, instead,” Richard suggested, giving him a quick hug. “Tell them what we’re thinking and let them handle it. That way you don’t end up in prison for murder.”
“If you insist,” Mick replied. “I still like the idea of dealing with it myself.”
“Guys,” Shorty said. “This is all great in theory. Proving it’s going to be a bitch, even for the cops.”
“The first step is getting rid of this,” Mick said, closing the box.
“We’re going shopping!” Shorty grinned.
“Only you.” Mick laughed then sobered. “Let’s presume this is what we’re thinking, money that’s supposed to go to a drug distributor, or whatever he’s called. If it disappears, someone’s going to be in big trouble.”
“Why didn’t they pass it on as soon as they got it?” Richard asked.
Mick spread his hands. “I have no clue, unless whoever put it in the safe in the first place had other things to worry about, like the fact no one found my body, and then I showed up alive and kicking. They could have warned the distributor off, promising to pass the money on as soon as it was safe.”
“Possible,” Richard agreed. “I’m not sure they’d stand still for that, but who knows.”
“There’s another reason someone could be holding on to that amount of cash,” Shorty said. “Blackmail. The guy who said ‘This should cover it’ could be the victim.”
“It doesn’t explain why it’s still in the safe,” Mick replied.
“Same reason as why whoever the dude is didn’t give it to the drug distributor,” Shorty said. “No one found your body, and then you show up.”
Richard frowned. “Would a blackmailer work with a partner? Neither of the people Mick saw could have knocked him out.”
Shorty shrugged. “Never done the blackmail thing, so I wouldn’t know.”
“I don’t see why not,” Mick said.
“Never knew anyone with money,” Shorty replied very seriously.
“I meant…”
Shorty smirked. “I know, but it was there.”
Trying not to laugh, Mick went back to Richard’s question, replying, “That’s a hell of a lot of cash. The blackmailer might have needed someone to watch his back when it was delivered. The same holds true if it had to do with drugs.” He looked around the office. “Where can I hide it?”
“Not in here,” Richard replied. “This is the first place someone would look for it once they realize it’s missing.”
“I can hardly walk out with the box tucked under my arm, since we don’t know who left it,” Mick pointed out.
“Not now, but you can after the club closes. I doubt whoever it belongs to will try to come in and get it before then, with you here.”
Mick had left the key ring with the key to the box hanging from the lock. Shorty took the ring out and began opening the drawers of the file cabinets. “Found a good place,” he said when he got to the bottom drawer of one of them. When Mick asked, he said, “There aren’t that many files, so you musta moved the back of the drawer forward keep them from slumping. See.”
“How the hell did you figure that out?” Mick asked as he put the box behind it, saying, “This works.”
“Told you.” Shorty smirked. “I worked for an office supply store, way back when. They had file cabinets that did that. It was a big selling point.”
“How many jobs have you held?” Mick asked as he locked the drawer.
“Too damned many. Never stayed with them for too long. That wasn’t me.”
Maybe he would, if I offered him a job. Something he and Richard had talked about, briefly. Now’s not the time, though. Instead, Mick said, “Now I have to stick around until the club closes and then take the box…home, I guess, for now.”
“Shorty and I will keep you company,” Richard told him. “I’m not leaving you to the mercies of your employees who don’t realize you don’t remember them.”
Mick chuckled. “It could be interesting, but still. Okay. I’ll stay in here most of the time. If anyone asks, I’m playing catch-up on paperwork since I was gone for a few days. I’m really going to see if I fired anyone recently. Not that they’d be the person who put the box in the safe, obviously, but they could be the third man. The one who knocked me out.”
“You think the person behind this convinced someone you fired to help him because they had a grudge against you
?” Richard asked.
“I won’t discount it until I find out if I did let someone go in the past month or so. If I didn’t, I’ll scratch that idea.”
“Okay. Shorty, how about we get something to eat. You want a sandwich or a burger, Mick?”
“A burger, please.”
“The club has food?” Shorty asked.
Richard answered, saying, “Yes. By law it has to serve food. Not full meals but at least sandwiches. Mick’s dad kept it to that. Mick added burgers and pizza.”
“Hot damn. Let’s eat.” Shorty hurried out of the office. Richard rolled his eyes, paused to give Mick a hug and a kiss, and followed him.
* * * *
“Anything?” Richard asked when he returned to the office carrying Mick’s burger, with Shorty right behind him.
“Nope. I guess I hire good employees because the last time I let someone go was six months ago. Trenton fired a waitress about three months ago, and a bartender last month, but I don’t see them holding me responsible.”
“Yeah, that would be a reach.” Richard sat while Mick ate. “I was thinking. The club closes at two, and it takes a while for cleanup and everything. So the earliest you would have seen the man handing off the box would have been two-thirty. That doesn’t give much time for them to get you across town to the alley before Shorty found you.”
“He said it was after three in the morning, so if they worked fast…”
“Okay. So you were probably the last person here, or thought you were. You turned off the lights and were heading down the hallway to the back door. On a normal night, you’d have set the security and left. But you heard someone talking, from what you said, and the rest is history.”
“Bad history, but that works. You think they were in here.”
“Yes. Check the schedule for last Wednesday and see who worked that night.”
Mick turned to the computer, where he recalled seeing a file with the employee schedules, and opened it. “Everybody and their brother,” he muttered.
Richard chuckled. “I don’t think we’re looking for waiters. Maybe whoever was handling the door, the bartender who would have closed out the registers, and Ed. They’re the logical ones who might know the combination to the safe.”
Hawk and Wolfe: A Life Interrupted Page 7