by Richard Wren
Smitty looked doubtful. “This got anything to do with anything? Get on with it.”
“Okay, okay. Stick with me for a second. It started out like a front pager. A missing sorority girl, a rape in a fraternity, a big deal headed for arrests, and a black eye for the kids and the University.”
“I still don’t remember it. Was it in all the papers?”
“Not quite. It never came to trial ‘cause the gal disappeared.”
Josie was skeptical. “So what? What does that prove?”
Peterson got a triumphant, wolf-like grin on his face.
“What if I told you that Earl bragged to me about how he’d been approached by an undersheriff that told him that some powerful people’d be grateful to him if he could make that gal disappear? What about that?”
“That’s just hearsay, doesn’t prove anything,” Josie answered.
“Okay, there’s more. Earl told the sheriff he didn’t believe him and wasn’t about to take the job unless one of those powerful people the sheriff referred to talked to him personally. He also told the guy that it’d cost and cost big. Getting interesting?”
Peterson knew he had his audience hooked. “See where this’s going?” he smiled.
Smitty was impatient. “Get on with it.”
“He said it took a couple of days before the sheriff got back to him with an envelope stuffed with five thousand bucks, all cash. He said that a real important family might be terribly embarrassed by the story, and they were willing to pay to make it go away. Earl told him it wasn’t enough and the guy got all steamy. Then Earl said the money was okay, but he still wanted some assurance that those powerful people would be grateful to him and how grateful.”
Smitty threw his hands up in resignation. “For Christ’s sake, get to it, man!”
“Okay, okay. Earl said the sheriff told him that all he was authorized to say was that Earl would have a friend in the D.A.’s office, and if he needed help to call the D.A.’s office and ask for “GM”, like in general manager, and that was the best he could do. But then the sheriff personally vouched for the guy.”
“General Manager? No such thing!” Josie responded.
Casey interjected, “Who we need is that sheriff!”
“Been dead for years.” Peterson threw out.
Josie repeated. “There’s no such thing as a general manager in the D.A.’s office.”
“That’s what Earl said. He told the sheriff everything was too vague and there wasn’t enough cash in it for him. Then he told him that he was through fooling around with the idea unless the sheriff told him who it was.
Earl said the sheriff was caught between a rock and a hard place. He’d already told him too much to back down and the money guy was expecting results. He hemmed and hawed and finally said, ’Jesus Christ Earl, I can’t give you no names; it’d be my ass. I never told you this, it’ll just be guess work on your part, okay?’
Earl reminded him why he’d come to him in the first place and that he had a reputation of never snitching on anybody. Then he said there was a long pause while the sheriff thought about how to phrase his answer and not compromise the money guy. the sheriff said, ‘I can’t tell you any more than this’. He told Earl that there was no-one more powerful in the D.A.’s office than this guy, and he said the five grand was just a down payment; he’ll go more.”
“Jesus Christ,” Josie said.
“There’s more,” Peterson added, and before Josie could say any more, he continued. “They finally agreed on thirty-five thousand, and Earl got another envelope with cash.”
Smitty and Casey looked at each other questioningly. Casey put it into words looking directly at Peterson. “So you say. Tell me something. If your friend Earl was sworn to secrecy and he carried out the job, how come he told you about it? He’s putting his own head in a noose. How come?”
“Cause he outsmarted them, that’s how come. He took the money and never did the job, not really. He started to take the job seriously, you know, make her disappear forever. Maybe make it look like a car crash or something. But he didn’t do it. He got the money and never killed her, and they had no idea. He needed to brag about how he’d screwed them.”
Josie was almost hyperventilating. “Hurry it up, will you?”
“So what he did was to track her down at Cal and start following her. He found out that the University had her hidden out at a Sorority house, and he snatched her.”
Obviously Peterson was enjoying telling the story, but as he looked around at his audience, Smitty was impatiently strumming his fingers on the table and Casey had a look of disbelief clearly evident on his face, he rushed to the finish.
“He did! He said he sneaked into the Sorority, scared the hell out of the girl, and convinced her that he’d kill her unless she took his offer and disappeared into Mexico.”
“Why’d he do that?”
“He said she was too cute to kill. He made her change clothes in front of him, and he walked her out bold as day. Told the other girls he was from the Dean’s office.”
“So what happened to her?”
“He talked her into settling for twenty-five thousand cash and riding to Mexico with a friend of his. Get her set up with a commune like outfit and a new name and ID. He said he laughs every time he thinks about it. Didn’t do a damn thing and made ten grand.”
He looked around triumphantly. “How’s them apples?”
Josie slowly looked at her dad and Casey, one after the other. Then very slowly and deliberately, “GM,” she questioned. “Gordon Mason?”
CHAPTER 24
The D.A.? Your boss? That’s nuts.” Smitty said.
Josie turned the idea over in her mind. “I don’t know, there seems to be a lot I don’t know about him.”
Smitty wasn’t buying it. “Sounds fishy to me. In the first place, it’s next to impossible to get a new name and ID that any D.A. couldn’t find pretty easy, right?” he said turning to Josie.
“Wrong, Dad. You’ve never heard of Onion Identity Services?”
“What the hell’s that?”
She directed her answer to Peterson. “That something you guys use?” He shrugged.
“It’s a totally illegal spot that’ll forge anything you want, from fake ID’s all the way up to fake passports. Unfortunately, it’s just way too easy to do what Earl did,” Josie explained, then added, “But Gordon mixed up in something like this? I can’t believe it.”
Casey said, “But you yourself said he was an officious prick, and he was out to get you.”
“True, but hiring a killer? That’s not Gordon. There has to be some other explanation for GM.”
Smitty suddenly stood up and took charge. “All this talk’s gettin us nowhere. Do we believe Peterson or not? Personally, I do, and I think we should get off our butts and start trying to find out who did what.” He glared at the small group. “Agreed?
Casey quickly assessed the mood and agreed. “Yeah, but what?”
“I got an idea, but I think we should split forces. I think you should work with Marilyn on the legal side and keep separate from the investigative side. I think we know where we’re going.” Smitty said looking at Josie.
Josie knew what that meant. It meant that he was planning on at least bending the law and didn’t want her involved. She also knew from a lifetime of experience that she would not be able to dissuade him from his actions.
“Dad, be careful, and think twice before you go off the cliff. Remember Gus. We don’t want to hurt his chances of getting out.”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head darlin’. I got Gus’s interest at the top all the time.”
That worried Josie even more. When her dad started using an Irish brogue, he was at his most untrustworthy and often would have his fingers crossed behind his back. Fortunately, both of his hands were in plain sight and spread out evenly.
Josie took her notes and started toward the office space they’d created.
Casey stopped her.
“This is crazy. It’s going on five o’clock, and we’ve been going all day.
We need to call it a day pretty soon and establish some kind of working day plan, or we’ll burn ourselves out. Josie and I need to get home for the night.
Josie agreed. “Give me an hour to catch up with Marilyn, and then we go home?” She looked questioningly at her dad.
“Where’re the guys?” Smitty asked Andy, who looked up startled at being suddenly included in the conversation.
“The guys?”
Impatiently, Smitty replied. “Yeah, the guys I asked you and Dave to round up this morning. I’m gonna need you two and Nips and Les tonight, but you two kids go on home.”
“Where’s Les?”
“Dunno right now. He’s been in and out several times fixin’ his bike.”
Casey wasn’t wild about leaving the five old-timer bike gang members, but needed to get home with Josie. His thoughts coincided with Josie’s. The gang had a more than checkered past, including Smitty. The gang had been accused of murder, drug dealing and even kidnapping in the past. Fortunately for both Casey and Josie, it was in the far distant past and, at least as far as Casey knew, it had stayed there. He hoped so, although in the previous year, with Casey present, Smitty had aggressively skirted the law in order to save Josie’s life. He could only keep a close eye on the crew and hope.
It was almost six but still light by the time Casey and Josie got home. Josie went in first and immediately started complaining. “Good God, what’s that smell?
Josie started rushing around opening windows. “I lived here seven years before you moved in, and I can’t remember it ever smelling so bad after I’d been gone a few days. Did you leave some ripe socks somewhere?”
“Ripe socks? Me? Never! Probably some of your old motorcycle gear,” Casey joked. They left all the doors wide open while they searched for the source of the odor and finally found a rotten head of cauliflower as the culprit.
“What’re we going to do about eating?” Casey asked as soon as the smell dissipated.
“Anything but pizza,” Josie paused, “how about a quick salad and then early bed. I’m looking forward to sleeping in a real bed instead of a bunk, okay?”
“Only sleeping?” Casey grabbed her and started smothering her with kisses. Josie giggled, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back. In a moment, he started kissing her neck, then her throat, and targeted the buttons of her blouse with his fingers.
Josie, laughing, pushed him away. “Salad first, then dessert if you’re lucky.” She glanced at his pants. “You better get that corn cob out of your pocket before we go out in public, though.”
They walked to one of their favorite neighborhood restaurants, shared a huge cobb salad, a small piece of key lime pie and then lingered over coffee. As Casey asked the waitress for a refill on the coffee Josie teased him. “Coffee, tea or me?” she mocked.
“Guess.” Casey said as he pushed his cup away.
The next morning, Casey woke up to the smell of coffee and bacon and the sound of Josie singing from the kitchen.
“Hurry up, lover, everything’s about ready.” She was watching the news on a small TV set as she set the table. ”Same old same old,” she summarized.
“Maybe we should get back up with Smitty before he does something drastic.” Casey worried.
“I’m going to enjoy my breakfast and coffee, at least for a little while,” Josie announced as she plopped herself down at the table, grabbed her tablet, and started scanning. “The day’s better when I check the local news.”
“Hah, as if I didn’t know,” Casey mumbled out loud. Josie ignored him and went silent. Casey resigned himself to the sports news on his iPhone.
After a few moments, Josie quietly asked, “Hon, what was the name of the bar you and Dad went to in Alameda?”
“Uh, I think it was Shirl’s. Why?”
“You better see this.” Josie said as she handed him her tablet.
After a quick glance, Casey spoke his first thoughts, “Holy shit, that poor lady. God, I hope it wasn’t our fault. I better phone Smitty.”
Smitty must have been waiting for the call. “How soon you two getting up here? We got things to do.”
Casey interrupted him. “Hold on, Smitty, you seen the morning news yet?”
“Shit no. Never read that garbage. Why?”
“It’s Shirl. You know, the bartender. Somebody broke into her bar last night and beat her to death, and then practically destroyed the whole bar.”
“Shit. Shit,” Smitty said, and then was silent for a long time. Casey waited. Smitty slowly asked, “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Earl?”
“Who else? It’s too damn much of a coincidence, and I don’t believe in coincidences. Shit, shit, shit, that poor woman. Who in hell are these people?” He was silent for a second. “You two better get up here; this changes everything.”
Casey shot a glance at Josie, who was picking up their plates. “Be right there.”
In a short time, Smitty, Josie, Casey, Marilyn, Lew, and Peterson were sitting around the living room table, looking at several copies of the Chronicle, absorbing the article about the murder.
“Betcha my bottom dollar it was Earl,” Peterson said. “That son of a bitch’s a freak. That’s what I said, you gotta protect me.”
“But why would he kill her? From what you said, she was just an innocent bystander. It was you two he was after.”
“Don’t matter with Earl. In his mind, she had something to do with the police showing up. She was the closest and wasn’t guarded, and that’s all it takes.” He looked across the table at the other four and repeated what he had said before, “I think you’re all in danger from him.” He waited in silence for a second, then added, “We’re all in danger from him.”
Smitty took charge. “The smart thing to do is to assume that Peterson’s right and be careful. I already called Dave, Nips, and Les and they’re on their way up. Nobody’s gonna bother us. Not with them around.”
Once before, in an emergency, Casey had marveled at Smitty’s generalship when it was desperately needed. Now he showed it again.
“Here’s the plan. We continue trying to find out who really murdered the guy Gus’s accused of murdering and who’s behind what’s going on now and what the connection is. Casey and me’ll take charge of that. We might take one of the guys with us just to be safe.
Josie and Marilyn’ll work the legal angles here at the house, and if they need to go to the jail or court or something, they’ll take at least two guys with ‘em here or on the move.
I think the most vulnerable time is you two going home each night,” he ended, pointing to Casey and Josie. “Why don’t you stay here for a couple’a nights until the police catch this guy?”
Josie strenuously objected. “No way am I going to be a prisoner here when I have my own home to go to. Beside’s, if we’re careful going and coming, nobody will know where we live.”
Peterson spoke up. “He probably already knows. He probably got information on all three of you along with job descriptions, addresses, everything. Hell, he’s probably even got your Social Security numbers.”
“That tears it!” Smitty said. “This is getting too close to home. Josie, you don’t go nowhere without a guard, got it?” Josie reluctantly agreed.
CHAPTER 25
They were interrupted by the sound of the basement garage door opening.
“That’ll be the guys coming in.” Smitty said.
Peterson looked confused. “On cycles?”
Casey enlightened him. “They coast in from the top of the hill.” Peterson still looked unconvinced. “It’s an agreement Smitty has with the neighbors,” he simply added and changed the subject.
“Maybe you shouldn’t leave the garage so open?” he queried Smitty.
“Good idea. Hey Lew, can a second story man take care of a basement job?”
Lew, who had a well-deserved reputation and th
e jail-time records to prove it as a second story thief, laughed at the often repeated joke. “You keep telling me I’m too old to climb around them balconies anyway, so I guess I’m stuck with basements. You want me to lock the garage door?”
“Yeah, and then bring the guys up here.”
In a few minutes, the room was crowded with all eight of them, and Smitty started issuing orders. First he brought the three new guys up to date on the perceived dangers from Earl. He delegated three of the guys to stay at the house, instructed two of them to accompany Josie if she had to leave. “No exceptions guys. Even if she’s just going to the grocery store or to the courthouse, she’s never alone, okay?”
Once again, Casey was impressed with the loyalty these old friends showed to Smitty. At one time, he’d been the elected leader of the whole Devil’s gang, and his word had been law. Now having retired, there was this small cadre of old-timers who still were willing to follow him anywhere.
He studied the four guys. Dave, who had a reputation as a chop shop owner and a hotshot driver; Lew, the second story man; Lips, who claimed to be an honest locksmith, but had jail time that disproved his contention; and Les, whose reputation as muscle had gotten him into trouble with the law numerous times. They made for an interesting team, to say the least. Of them all Les was the closest to being an old friend of Smitty. In their early sixties, both looked ten years younger.
“Dave, you’re coming with us,” Smitty pointed at himself and Casey. “Everybody straight?” he asked.
Nods of agreement around the room.
“Okay then, let’s go,” He announced.
Casey and Josie looked at each other in confusion. “Where’re we going?” Casey asked.
“Jesus H. Christ. Do I gotta do all the thinking around here? Seems obvious to me. Gus’s in jail. Josie’s staying here trying to get him out and building a defense against the murder charge. We know the case against him took place around 1978 or just a little before and that some bigwig in Oakland is worried about the story getting out about whatever he did to cover that case up. Enough so that he’s willing to sanction murder now to keep his shirttails clean. Problem is, that’s over thirty-five years ago and not many people left to talk to, and the ones we’ve found so far have gotten themselves killed. We gotta do our own research, and the first place is the Tribune archives. Seems crystal clear to me. Plus there’re some old-timers on their staff that might have a clue for us.”