Body on Pine

by DeMarco, Joseph R. G.

  There was no apparent tie to Branko in the legislation or the contracts. Caragan said Wheeler mentioned the thug’s name in his phone conversations. He didn’t know why. There’d be no way to ask Branko. His lawyers would never permit it. Linking Branko and Wheeler would be a challenge.

  The information in Olga’s file gave me a headache. I had to take a break. Stacking things neatly, I walked to her desk.

  “Olga, I’ll be out for a while. Can you do me one more favor, sugarplum?”

  “You are paying for favors, so I am doing favors,” she said, peering at me sweetly.

  “I have a hunch about these contracts.” I handed her the file she’d given me. “See if you can locate any news stories about the land deals and the properties they cover. Anything.”

  “I am looking for anything? Boss looks for everything at same time?”

  “Yes and no. I’ll know it if I see it. Use those expensive databases, pumpkin. Might as well get what we pay for.”

  “If you are saying so.” She took the file, opened it and I could see her formulating her search plans.

  I left her happily hunting down information. Of everything her job called for, scouring the Internet made her happiest, no matter how she complained.

  While I waited for the elevator, I made a call.

  “Josh Nolan.” His voice sounded nasal.

  “Sounds like you got as much sleep as I did last night,” I said.

  “Probably less. The Senator called early this morning with some work.”

  “Did you happen to arrange that meeting for me?”

  “I tried for today, but he promised he’d meet with you tomorrow. That okay?”

  “Guess it has to be,” I said as the elevator arrived. “Tell me when and where.”

  “Still up in the air. It’ll definitely be tomorrow.” Nolan sounded harried. “Uh oh, gotta go. Terrabito’s wife just walked in. Talk to you later.” Instead of disconnecting, he hesitated. I could hear him breathe. “T-thanks for the beer and the talk. I owe you one.” He hung up without saying anything else.

  ***

  Kelley’s headquarters was on the way back to my office. The frantic activity at the campaign offices was significant. Kelley was moving ahead in the polls with less than two weeks to go. The momentum was in his favor at just the right time and his inner circle wanted to keep it going.

  So it was no surprise Kelley stood on a desk trying to rev people up and propel them out the door with enthusiasm. I shook my head when I saw him. His lead in the polls and his towering position on the desk didn’t change the fact that he was a gray little man who mumbled when he spoke and was about as inspiring as a sponge.

  I stepped closer as he finished with, “…let’s see if we can change some minds.”

  Hopping to the floor, Kelley came face to face with me. Shuster, Kelley’s shadow, was nowhere to be seen. I knew this would be a good opportunity to corner the gray mumbler.

  “Mr. Kelley. Or, should I say Senator Kelley?” Never hurts to slather on a little butter.

  “Not yet, Fontana, not yet. But we’re close,” he said, unable to suppress a smile. “What brings you out so early on a Saturday morning? You’re not running for office, too, are you?”

  “Nah, couldn’t do that. I still have my moral compass. Y’know, the one the Boy Scouts gave me. When they allowed my type in, once upon a time.”

  “Vitriolic as ever.” Kelley turned and began a slow walk to his office, nodding to volunteers, patting some on the back, giving a thumbs up to others.

  When we got to his door, he stopped and looked at me as if to say, ‘This far and no further.’ He didn’t know me as well as he thought.

  “Got some things I need to talk about,” I said.

  “What is it you need?”

  “You sure you want to talk murder and corruption out here in front of the children?” I smiled innocently, nodding in the direction of the campaign workers.

  “Whatever you’ve got to say, you can say it here,” Kelley said, his hand on the doorknob but not turning it, an indication he was willing to negotiate if I bargained harder.

  “Hey, maybe I’ll talk to staffers first, see where they stand on the issue of corruption, of legislators who are bought and paid for. Legislators who act like paid servants, fetching contracts and seeing to it their masters get good deals.”

  Kelley threw me an “I-Don’t-Care” stare then tried looking bored. Behind those eyes I saw a glimmer of concern.

  “I’ll bet your staff has strong opinions on legislators who sell their souls to big contributors. Not saying you’re at all like that. But I wonder if your staff knows some of the things I know.”

  “My staff is made up of loyal supporters. Nothing you could say—”

  “I could ask them about the CityWide development and the government contracts that wrapped it all up for a certain group of developers.” I raised an eyebrow and tilted my head in his direction.

  Kelley was mum.

  “I could tell them who tied that package together. How he heroically got the state legislature to award contracts to a public-minded firm who’d contributed mightily to that legislator’s campaigns, including one he’s running now. For the U.S. Senate, I believe. You think they’ll applaud that guy and think of him as an independent fighter for his constituents?”

  Kelley turned the knob and opened the door to his office. “Get in. And be brief or so help me, I’ll call the police.”

  “Hold on.” I paused in the doorway. “I just had this little moment of terror thinking about the police coming to arrest me for nothing. Okay. It’s gone now, nothing to worry about.”

  The look of disgust and contempt on Kelley’s face made it worth getting up early. “Shut the door,” he said.

  “Don’t want them to hear about your heroic efforts?”

  “Get this over with and get out.” He sat in his comfy well-padded desk chair and leaned back as if he had nothing to fear.

  “I’m kinda curious about the contracts you helped secure for Berwick, The Chuffe Group, Wheeler, and others. They were big contributors to your campaigns.”

  “And to a lot of others.” He looked smug because he was right. He wasn’t the only pig at the trough.

  “Turns out, all the politicians who received money from those people and their companies, eventually helped their contributors in lots of ways.”

  “Your point?”

  “I have this strange feeling, that somewhere deep in the murky depths of the legislative process, all this deal-making and handshaking got some people murdered.”

  “Do you have any idea how?” he asked. “Or, do you enjoy barging into offices and making vague accusations.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I guess you have a point. There’s one other name maybe you heard and maybe you can tell me something about.”

  “Another developer?”

  “I think he’s got that on his resume somewhere. He does a lot of other things, some of which the law doesn’t like much.”

  “Everyone’s got a dark side. Who are you tarring with your brush now?”

  “Name’s Branko. Konstantin Branko.”

  I watched for signs of recognition, fear, anything. Kelley came through. His face registered fear and he went pale, making his already ashy face look ghastly.

  “You know the guy, right?”

  “O-only by reputation…” Kelley said. “He’s supposed to be a dangerous character.”

  “You’ve met him?”

  “No! I stay away from people like that.” Kelley’s voice quavered and he stared down at his desk. “You’d have to be crazy to deal with a man like Branko. I’m not about to jeopardize my career by coming anywhere near him.”

  “Sounds like you might’ve been asked to do just that.”

  “Are you crazy? Why? Who’d ask me to associate with a thug like Branko?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out,” I said. “Would make things a lot easier if somebody would tell the truth. Too much
to expect, I guess.” Especially from politicians, I thought.

  “Look, Fontana, I’ve got other things on my mind right now. Maybe after the primary I can spare you more time.” The interview was over as far as he was concerned.

  “I’ll be going. But I’ll be back.” I placed a hand on the doorknob, remembered something, and turned back to face him. “The night of the murder—”

  “Fontana, I don’t have—”

  “Just hear me out. Could be helpful… to you, maybe.”

  “To me? I don’t understand.”

  “The night you guys had your gay pub crawl showing us how much you like us, that’s the night Brad and the others were murdered.”

  “What’s that got to do with me?”

  “Maybe nothing. I’m wondering if you remember Terrabito arriving late that night? That could be important.”

  “Terr… he was…, Let me think a minute that was a… a Friday, right?”

  “Right.” I watched his face.

  “I remember now. We’d all been traveling in a group. Terrabito refuses to be seen with me and never likes arriving anywhere at the same time. So….” He rubbed his chin in a thoughtful gesture. I wasn’t sure if he was thinking or posing.

  “Coming back to you?”

  “I remember Shuster hustling me out of one bar and into another until we finally arrived at your place—”

  “It’s not my place but go on…”

  “Shuster got me there. I don’t remember seeing Terrabito. Maybe he did get there after I did. Does that mean he was late?” Kelley could hardly suppress a smile. If he could spin this the right way, and backhandedly implicate Terrabito in something nefarious, he could maybe move up a point or two in the polls and give Terrabito the heave ho.

  “It might,” I said. “I’ll let you know.”

  Walking out through the office, I felt Kelley’s eyes on me. I’d left him with something potentially juicy. If I needed to talk to him again, he wouldn’t keep me waiting.

  My stomach growled as I walked back to the office but I needed to check on something before stopping for food.

  Olga, still seated at her desk, tapped away at the keyboard.

  “You must like the new office. You’re here a lot more than ever.”

  “I am liking office, of course. I am liking Saturday money better,” she smiled. I knew full well she’d never need another red cent, since her four husbands had left her more than well off.

  “Got anything for me?”

  “I am finding many things. Internet keeps no secrets.” She looked at me as if warning me. “Is good to remembering this, zaichik moy.”

  “Did you find some of my secrets on the Internet?”

  “No. Boss is safe. For now.” She wore a slight smile for me.

  “How about those land deals? Anything?”

  “You are saying look for news. I am finding news.” She handed me a huge sheaf of papers stuffed into an accordion folder.

  “Thank you. You’re a peach.”

  “Plum, peach. Is confusing.”

  I laughed.

  “Boss is needing me later?”

  “Boss is always needing you, Olga. You’ve done more than your share today. Besides, it’s Saturday. Go out and enjoy the weather.”

  I took the file and went into my office like a kid with a new toy. I had no idea what Olga had found but at this point, just about anything would help. I almost didn’t feel the stabs and needle points of pain my ribs sent out.

  Filling my mug with what was left of the coffee, I sat at my desk. I heard Olga bustle around then heard the outer door slammed shut. I was alone with the papers and my thoughts.

  For some reason I felt empty. Something lingered at the back of my mind, silent and without a name. I pushed it away. There’d be time enough for whatever it was later. Right now there was other business. If I were honest with myself, I’d admit there was always something else to do rather than explore those unknowns lurking just beyond my reach.

  I slurped some coffee and pulled out the papers. Olga had printed tons of articles about different development projects. Our databases gave her access to newspaper files, industry news, and resources the general public didn’t know or care about.

  The first article concerned the struggle to clear properties for a combination mall and movie complex outside the downtown perimeter. Lots of homes and businesses had to be purchased, and people had to be relocated.

  One article highlighted a couple of property owner holdouts who were made generous offers. One of them took the money but the other person died in a work related accident before he could do the same. His distant relations were given a smaller deal and took it. Interesting but not interesting enough.

  The dozens of articles Olga had printed meant I’d spend the afternoon reading and making notes. Fourteen developments in the city and surrounding suburbs had generated press for one reason or another. It was more than I could manage on my own even in a few hours.

  My stomach growled again. I’d have to move this show to another venue, which gave me an idea. I picked up the phone and tapped in a number.

  “Clean Living. Luke speaking.”

  “All business even on a Saturday.”

  “What’s going on, Marco? Missed you at dinner. I thought you’d be there. Even Xinhan asked for you.”

  “I’m sure he was just as happy I didn’t show up,” I said.

  “You’re jealous. I never thought I’d see that.” Luke laughed.

  “You have it all wrong, Mr. Guan. I’m just a keen observer of people.”

  “Call it whatever you want.”

  “Got some time for lunch and a little work?”

  “For you? Of course,” Luke said. “Will the French Canadian hunk be there?”

  “You’re like a dog with a bone. You clamp on and never let go.”

  “So, will he be there?”

  “I’ll call him. How’s that? Can’t promise anything, though I know he’s eager to do any investigative work I can throw at him.”

  “Call and tell him your devastatingly attractive friend Luke will be there.”

  “Yes, sir. Anything else, sir? Shall I have the car sent around to pick you up?”

  “I can handle getting there.” Luke paused. “Exactly where am I meeting you?”

  ***

  We settled on More Than Just Ice Cream since we could relax and talk without a lot of noise. I wasn’t looking forward to calling Jean-Claude, but I’d promised. Dialing his number brought some things back into sharp focus. Anton’s question lingered in my mind. Worst of all, my failure to respond to Anton haunted me. After all the years of friendship, I couldn’t find the words to tell him how I felt.

  Jean-Claude’s phone rang a few times before he answered.

  “Oui, allo,” his voice was husky.

  “Jean-Claude, still asleep?”

  “Marco! It’s you,” he said. “Asleep? Non, I am doing the exercise. I’m dancing tonight and… you know how demanding they can be.”

  “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  “Nice for you to say that, but I see myself in the mirrors.”

  “Got some time for a little detective work?”

  “Sure. You are serious? You need my help?”

  “Yes. Serious. It’s boring stuff but better than last time.”

  “You know I do not find this boring. It’s exciting.” Jean-Claude said.

  “Don’t get too excited just yet.”

  “Shall I come to your office”

  I told him where we’d be meeting and hung up. Was I crazy asking for help from a man I considered a rival? Was I going out of my way to show I was a generous guy who didn’t hold a grudge? Or was I punishing myself for allowing Jean-Claude to become a rival? It wasn’t his fault, after all. When it came down to it, Jean-Claude was an innocent bystander. I’d let it all happen. Last night, I’d had it in my power to stop it with a word. Something had held me back.

  I had deep feelings for
Anton but they were overshadowed by my doubts about a relationship, any relationship. By my fears about the lasting nature of relationships. Everything was too uncertain for me to give him an answer, especially the answer he wanted to hear.

  As I gathered the papers together, Galen popped into my thoughts. I don’t know how he’d have handled the Jean-Claude situation. All I know is he’d have handled it. Period. It’d be settled and he’d move on. The same way he decided to disappear one day. His way of handling something. I still didn’t know what that something was. The shadowy agency he worked for? A relationship I knew nothing about? When I found him, and I would, he’d have a lot to answer for. After we’d celebrated his return.

  ***

  More Than Just Ice Cream was crowded—not unusual, it’s one of the better spots in the heart of the gayborhood to eat— but I found a table in the corner and plunked my stuff down.

  Bouncy, my favorite waiter, was on duty. I spied the mousy little server lurking in the background, every once in a while casting a furtive glance in my direction. But Bouncy’s personality was too bright a light and everything else faded in comparison.

  “What can I get you, stranger?” Bouncy smiled, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he waited. His light brown hair had a shiny, freshly washed look.

  “Haven’t seen you in a while either. New love interest keeping you under wraps?”

  “I wish. School and a second job. And we deliver now, so I’m out on deliveries a lot,” he said.

  “That’s new. And you didn’t let me know, I’m hurt.” I imagined opening the door to find Bouncy with a delivery for me.

  “Limited delivery area, but I can make an exception in your case.”

  “I may place an order later.” I winked. “How about some coffee while I wait.”

  “Meeting someone? Blind date?”

  “More like a working lunch.”

  “Good,” Bouncy said mysteriously and walked away, his flawless glutes moving in perfect rhythm.

  Before he returned with my coffee, Jean-Claude entered, spotted me, and headed over to the table. I felt my muscles tense and warned myself to play nice.

  “I appreciate this, Marco.” Jean-Claude slid into the seat across from me, his hair still wet from showering, his muscle tee giving maximum exposure to his worked-out biceps. “I didn’t think you would call me to help again.”