Body on Pine

by DeMarco, Joseph R. G.

  “I could give him a call. Giuliani isn’t going to like him spending department time on my theories, though. That’s why she gave me tacit approval to investigate.”

  “I’d feel better if you got the detective involved.”

  “I will. Promise.” I did my best Boy Scout honor sign and smiled.

  Luke laughed.

  “Remember I said that Wheeler’s assistant, Phil Caragan, was sort of helpful?”

  “Yeah, but you didn’t know how to make sense of what he said.”

  “Caragan overheard Wheeler on the phone mentioning a certain name.”

  “One of these guys?” He gestured toward the folders.

  “No. Branko. That’s what the assistant thinks he heard.”

  “And… that’s important because…?” Luke looked at me as if I’d lost my mind.

  “Because Branko went on trial for extortion. Guess who was on the jury?”

  “Wheeler?” Luke asked.

  “No. It was—”

  “Caragan? The assistant?”

  “Brad. It was Brad. Emily said he’d been on a jury and hated it.”

  “Okay. Funny coincidence, right?”

  “It gets better,” I said. “Wheeler had been scheduled as a witness for the prosecution, then he gets cut from the list. No explanation.”

  “Even bigger coincidence, right?” Luke smiled weakly.

  “You know me better than that, Luke.”

  “What’s it all mean? How does it figure with the lists we made?”

  “I haven’t gotten there yet. I know it’s connected somehow, but there are pieces missing. Important pieces.”

  “Looks that way.”

  “I’ll just keep going. Something’s bound to pop sooner or later.”

  “Don’t be an idiot and get hurt again,” Luke said and impulsively threw his arms around me in a tight hug which forced me to yelp and jump back.

  “Ribs…ribs…” I panted. “Still… painful…”

  “I just made it worse. Didn’t I?” Luke stroked my face with his hand. “I’m sorry.” He stepped back looking mortified.

  “I’ll be fine. It was the sudden pressure.”

  Luke pulled out his cell phone and looked at the screen. “I’ve gotta get going.”

  “Hot date?”

  “Dinner with Xinhan and some instructors from his Kung Fu school. Wanna come along? I’ve seen some of these guys. Major hunks.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Could be candidates for StripGuyz in the bunch,” Luke said trying to entice me.

  “Sure, they’d work out great as strippers. I can just see one of them accidentally kicking a patron and knocking his head across the bar. That’d be good for business.” I laughed then sucked air from the pain it caused.

  “If you change your mind, we’ll be at the Golden Phoenix.”

  “I may surprise you,” I said.

  “I’d be happy if you did,” Luke said moving close again. I stepped back defensively. “Not going to hurt you, big boy. I just want to give you a kiss.”

  “Lip’s cut, remember?”

  “I’ll kiss where it isn’t cut. Maybe I’ll make it all better.”

  Luke moved in and placed a gentle kiss on the side of my mouth that wasn’t cut and swollen. His lips were warm and soft. “Feels better, right? I knew it. Oldest remedy.” Luke straightened his clothes, picked up his messenger bag and moved to the door. “Okay. Meet us at the restaurant. Xinhan would like that,” Luke said and left.

  ***

  The warmth of his kiss lingered and I felt oddly secure. Then a stray thought about Anton flashed through my mind and I wondered where he’d been all day and what he’d been doing. I’d talk with him at Bubbles later. I wasn’t happy with the way things were between us. But I had no right feeling angry at anyone but myself.

  It’d be hours before I had to be at Bubbles, and ribs or no ribs there was work to do. I pulled together the lists we’d made and took them back to my desk. One thing I needed to do was question the politicians on the list. Not that they’d ever admit to trading favors for contributions.

  When Olga trooped into my office with another pot of tea, I asked her for a list of campaign headquarters for the list of politicians I handed her. Most were running for local offices, only Terrabito and Kelley had statewide races. With Philly and its burbs being the biggest prize in the state, both Kelley and Terrabito would probably be stuck in their Philly headquarters making last minute plans.

  While I sipped tea and ate the second pryaniki Olga brought in with the tea, I realized there was one list we hadn’t put together that might be relevant. I quickly flipped through the files and saw that the information I needed to make the list wasn’t there.

  I asked Olga to come in again.

  “Boss is better? No. I am seeing Boss wilts like cabbage in soup.” She looked at me and frowned. “Boss is tired. You must be going in bed but you…”

  “I know, sugarplum, but who’s gonna do this if I don’t?”

  “Dead people are not knowing how lucky they are being, having you around.”

  “Can you do a little more research for me?”

  “Is why I live,” Olga said. I knew there was sarcasm in there somewhere but her deadpan expression didn’t betray her. “What informations you are needing?”

  I showed her the lists of development projects Luke and I had compiled.

  “Can you find the government contracts that go with these projects and which politicians are connected with those contracts”

  “Da. Easy Peasy.”

  “Where’d you learn that phrase?”

  “Television spy show. All English I am learning from TV. Is good, da?”

  “Da,” I said. Television. Sr. Yolanda, my second grade teacher would be mortified.

  Sitting around, pain or no pain, made me crazy. I needed to get out on the street and ruffle some feathers. I took my lists and made copies.

  “I am having campaigning office list Boss needs.” Olga waved a paper in the air.

  Copies in hand, I took the list as I went back to my office to gather my things. Then I turned around and walked to the door.

  “Gonna be out for a while, Olga. Hold the fort,” I said passing her desk.

  Staring at the monitor, eyes glazed, Olga didn’t respond. She wouldn’t come up for air until she’d found the information I’d asked for. She was as focused as a pit bull.

  The day was slowly winding down. Luke and I had worked for hours, and I hadn’t realized how late it was. Political campaigns didn’t knock off at five o’clock like normal businesses. Campaigns are like zombies with even more voracious appetites.

  I decided to start with Terrabito. I headed to Walnut Street. The Terrabito offices were west of Broad, I moved as quickly as I could, passing Kelley’s headquarters buzzing with even more activity since the latest polls put him within striking distance.

  On the corner of Fifteenth Street in a building that used to house a bank, huge “Terrabito for Senate” signs plastered the insides of the windows. As a state senator, he commanded big money and lots of help from the Party. For some reason, he wasn’t getting enough traction with voters.

  I walked through the doors expecting the usual flurry of activity but there wasn’t much. Staffers sat at telephone banks, people fiddled with computers. With less than two weeks to go, however, there was no sense of excitement.

  Moving to a desk that looked like it might be the center of the operation, I came face to face with a prim young guy who looked vaguely familiar. Then I remembered he’d been with Terrabito’s entourage during the pub crawl.

  “Excuse me,” I said, rousing him from reading the newspaper. “Is the Senator here?”

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No, but—”

  “Then the Senator isn’t here.” He went back to reading his newspaper.

  “Weren’t you with the Senator’s party the night they visited Bubbles and the other bars? I thought I recog
nized you.”

  “Yeah, I was there. That still isn’t going to get you in to see the Senator.”

  “Marco Fontana,” I said stretching out my hand to him. I figured starting over might help.

  He shook hands tentatively, eyeing me with a mix of interest and distrust. Thin as a post, he had blond hair and platter-sized eyes providing him with an innocent look. Which, I could tell, he was anything but.

  “I’m investigating a murder and… you know how one thing leads to another,” I said leaning in, trying to make him feel I was taking him into my confidence.

  “Yeah?” He looked up as if I were about to tell him earth shattering secrets.

  “I got a look at the victim’s finances and the investors in his business…”

  “Are you trying to say the Senator was one of—”

  “No. Not at all,” I reassured him. “No. Looks like the Senator might know one or more of the investors, though. You know how the press is, they’ll try to link him with those investors and ultimately to the murder. Even if it’s only a peripheral kind of link. Know what I mean?”

  “Yes. This can be… wait one moment… I have… I need to talk with someone.” He stood and, as he walked away, I thought he resembled a walking twig. A cute twig, but a twig.

  After a moment he returned to the desk, his face flushed.

  “The Senator actually isn’t here but you can talk to his assistant. He’ll give you whatever information you want. You want to talk with him?”

  “Nolan? Josh Nolan?”

  “Ye-yes, you know Mr. Nolan?”

  “We’ve run into one another here and there.”

  He picked up the phone and told whoever it was that I was waiting. He listened then glanced up at me, his big eyes widening again.

  “Go right on back, Mr. Fontana,” he said. “Second door on the left.”

  I smiled at him and watched him blush. Then I walked down the hall to Nolan’s office.

  As I approached the door, it opened and Josh Nolan stood there, tall, handsome, and frazzled.

  “Mr. Fontana, I keep bumping into you. Sorry I can’t talk much, but we’re stretched thin and—”

  “It’s your boss I need to talk with. Any chance you can set me up with a meeting?”

  “Gonna be difficult. The Senator is scheduled up to his as… I mean ears.”

  “Like I told the receptionist, I’m investigating a murder. The killing took place the night you and all the others visited Bubbles. Things are moving on the investigation and your boss could get nipped by negative publicity.”

  “You mentioned that,” he said as if he already had more than enough to worry about.

  “After all the drinking you did that night, I was surprised to see you looking so lively the next morning.”

  “It’s the adrenalin… cancels out alcohol, private lives, and a lot more.”

  “That night you did your best pretending to play sober when your boss ran in late. Politicians never get anywhere on time.”

  “Too many people make demands on his time. That’s why he never shows up when he’s supposed to.” He swept his chestnut hair back with his hand and gazed at me. “I’ll see if the Senator can squeeze in a meeting tomorrow. Next day at the latest.”

  “I’d appreciate it. Never know, the Senator might help solve the case. That wouldn’t look bad on the news, would it?”

  “Right now, with the dip in his polls, I’d take just about anything,” Nolan said. “I can’t understand how that weasel…” He stopped himself.

  “One more thing…”

  “Sure.”

  “I saw you storming out of Kelley’s headquarters the other day.”

  “Campaign business. People don’t realize it, but campaigns do communicate.”

  “Didn’t look like you were communicating all that well.”

  “Looks can be deceiving.”

  “Yeah, I suppose. Matter of fact I noticed you and Shuster giving each other the eye, that night at Bubbles. Kinda looked like you two had something secret goin’ on.”

  “If you’re through… I’ll try to arrange that meeting for you. I can’t spare you more time right now.”

  I’d hit a soft spot. I handed him my card. “You can call me when you set up the meeting,” I said, and left the room.

  The receptionist had gone back to his newspaper. I called out a ‘Thank you’ to him as I moved past, and he blushed again.

  Out on the street, people flew past on their way home from work or out to dinner. I considered my options. I needed to visit Kelley again or maybe even Nussbaum or Clarke. Sooner or later one of them would slip and say something truthful instead of giving me the runaround. There were still missing pieces. I’d just have to keep plugging.

  Glancing down at Olga’s campaign office list I decided who’d be next. I looked up in time to see a sidewalk bicyclist plough into an elderly woman who, lucky for her, crashed into me knocking me against the wall.

  Fortunately the woman was uninjured, and I saw to it she was steady on her feet before I turned to look for the cyclist. Of course, the thug was nowhere. Having done his damage he’d disappeared into the fading light.

  Every already bruised bone felt the shock of the crash and let me know it. The freshly renewed throbs of pain ordered me to forget the politicians and get home. I’d nurse myself with a beer and some food. I still had to make an appearance at Bubbles. My feet knew the way which was good because my head was still in the case.

  ***

  Friday night at Bubbles usually brought in a decent crowd. There was an ebb and flow to bar life and we were entering the ebb season. Late Spring and Summer were slow times everywhere in the city. Which is why I scheduled events to bring in bigger crowds. My guys had fans and the fans had friends. Somehow, seeing men dance almost naked never gets old.

  Customers stared at the empty stage waiting. Lit by pink and blue baby spots, the stage held the promise of men, nearly naked, creamy flesh available yet forbidden. The tinsel curtain upstage fluttered in a random breeze, teasing the patrons with the thought of dancers poised to emerge.

  Music thumped and pumped, resonating in my chest, sending small shockwaves of pain through my ribs. I moved carefully through the crowd, back-slapping long time patrons, spending a few minutes with others. They all asked why I looked like a celebrity mug shot. I gave them the short, vague version before heading to my office.

  Anton, seated at my desk, looked up when I entered the room. His eyes widened.

  “What happened to you?” He jumped up and quickly moved to my side.

  “Careful,” I said, before he placed his arms around me. “Really sore ribs.”

  Anton gently stroked my face, drawing his fingers close to the cuts without touching them. His blue eyes darkened with concern.

  “When were you going to tell me?” His tone was sad rather than accusatory.

  “I… I didn’t tell anyone… not really,” I said. Normally he’d be the first one I’d tell about anything. When I’d called, though, he’d been out.

  “You’ve been strange lately, Marco,” he said. Then he moved as close as he dared, so as not to bump my ribcage. “I want to kiss you but…”

  “Just be careful. Everything hurts.”

  Anton placed a gentle kiss on the side of my face, well away from any cuts or bruises.

  “Feel better?” Anton managed a weak smile. “Tell me what happened.”

  I explained and smiled apologetically.

  “Didn’t tell anyone. Took myself home and nursed my wounds alone.”

  “Why? You could’ve called me. I’d have been there in an instant. You know that.”

  “It was four in the morning…” I paused. “Maybe… I wasn’t happy these thugs took me by surprise. It’s not supposed to happen,” I said.

  “Right, Not to you it isn’t. You’re immortal.”

  “I know how it sounds, and you’re right. But I needed to be alone and get past those feelings. That kind of thing can ruin
you for this work.”

  “You work one case after another and every one takes a little piece of you. Some of them take more. I’ve watched it happen, Marco,” Anton said, frustration coloring his voice. “That’ll never change, will it?”

  I was silent for a moment. He was right.

  “This work is all I know, Anton. It’s all I’ve wanted to do,” I said, tentatively reaching up a hand to cup his face. “Besides, most of the time, I like what I do.”

  “You like getting beaten to a pulp?” He stepped back beyond my reach.

  “I didn’t exactly get beaten to a pulp. Some cuts, kicks to the ribs, punches. I’m still in one painful piece” I smiled. “I can usually take care of myself. They just got the jump on me and… sometimes… shit happens, as they say.”

  “There’s more to it than physical harm. You know that,” Anton said. “Your work takes a toll on you in ways you can’t see. Not like a broken rib. That’s pain you can feel. What I’m talking about is deeper, more essential. You can still walk, still function. Until one day… you won’t be you anymore. I don’t know if I can stand to watch that happen.” Anton paused. “It hurts watching what you go through every time. When you have feelings for someone… it hurts.” He glanced down and moved back toward the desk.

  “Is that why things have been so different lately?” I asked, my voice hoarse. “Everything’s strained. Nothing is easy and comfortable the way it was.”

  “It’s… you’re right… I don’t know what it is, but you’re right. You’ve been distant. Maybe I have, too.”

  “I’ve been so involved with this case, but that’s no excuse.”

  “It’s not only this case, Marco. It’s not your work.”

  “Then what? Why is everything different?” I had a pretty good idea of the reason. This was familiar and yet unfamiliar territory all at the same time.

  “Truthfully, it’s not just you.” Anton stared at the floor, seemed to be carefully considering his next words. “A guy gets tired, you know? You want something for so long you just keep moving in the same direction even after there’s nothing left to move you. You need a little something in return. A word… a touch… some sign to keep going...”

  “I… what can I say, Anton?”

  “If I need to tell you what to say, then what’s the point?”