by Mike Faricy
“Not belligerent and, actually, Candi paid my bill.”
“And she is employed by the Tutti Frutti Club. So then you departed with her and?”
“And I’m not sure. I had a beer, no two beers, and I think a late dinner or an early breakfast and another drink and that’s all I remember.”
“You did this where?”
“At her place. In her home.”
“And you left her home sometime prior to sunrise before she was awake?”
I had a hazy memory of Candi driving home and some vague conversation about her parking in the garage. This wasn’t making any sense to me.
“I think she drove me from the Tutti Frutti Club to her home. We took her car. I had been overserved and having her drive seemed to be the wisest choice.”
“And so your car got to her house how?”
“I have no idea. I have no memory of leaving her house. The last thing I remember is her wearing a smile and pair of these black knee high boots. She handed me a drink. I don’t know what the drink was. I just know that it burned when it went down. I remember that. Oh, and she said she got the stuff in Mexico.”
“Tequila?”
“I don’t know what it was.”
“Are you in the habit of drinking drinks that you don’t know what they are?”
“Sometimes.”
“Then you woke sometime before Miss Slaughter and left her home?”
“I’m not sure. All I know is I woke and found myself duct tapped to a chair in the basement of my house.”
“But your car was parked in your driveway, right? That Fleetwood thing with the blue door? That’s your car isn’t it? I believe we saw it there, it’s being processed now as we speak.”
“I don’t know how it got there. That’s not how I park it.”
“In your driveway?”
“Yeah, I park in my driveway, but not there. I always pull up to my garage.”
“So you woke tied to a chair in your own basement?”
“Yes.” Finally he was getting it.
“And then you assaulted Mister Cazzo?”
“Sort of, I was in the process of freeing myself when Cazzo returned with two other guys. They were coming down the basement stairs as I was trying to get out of the chair. Cazzo tried to shoot me with the damn shotgun.”
“The one registered to you?”
“Right. He missed me, narrowly. I hit him with a chair leg and got the gun away from him. The other two guys ran up the stairs. I fired the shotgun at them. I’m sure it was the D’Angelos and I’m sure I hit one of them, that idiot Gino most likely. If you arrest those two jerks all your questions should be answered. You can track them, right? You’ve still got that monitor bracelet on Gino, don’t you?”
Manning nodded imperceptibly.
“Do you have a money dispute with Mister Cazzo?”
“A money dispute?”
“Yes, for fees he owes you. I believe he hired you to do some investigation.”
“He hired me to check out a former agent for an acquaintance of his.” I suddenly felt on very thin ice.
“Do you recall the name of this acquaintance?” Manning asked. There was no point in trying to dodge because he already knew the answers. I felt myself crashing through the thin ice.
“Yeah, it was Swindle Lawless, she was or is the girlfriend of Tommy D’Angelo and the guy I was checking out was her former agent, Dudley Rockett.”
“Did you invoice Mister Cazzo?” Manning asked almost as an after thought then began slowly flipping through pages in his file.
“No, I never sent him an invoice.”
Manning looked up at me feigning surprise. “Really? Never sent him an invoice? Are you working as a non-profit, now?”
“No.”
“Do you recognize this?” Manning asked as he flipped a final sheet of paper then turned a plastic envelope toward me and pushed it across the table. It held a business check from the Tutti Frutti Club made out to me in the amount of two thousand dollars. The thing was dated yesterday and was signed in a completely illegible scrawl that vaguely resembled a coiled slinky.
I studied the check for a long moment then slid it over toward Louie. “I’ve never seen this before in my life,” I said and shook my head.
Manning nodded, but it was a noncommittal sort of nod as if that was exactly what he had expected me to say.
“So you didn’t demand more money from Mister Cazzo?”
“No, I’ve never had a money conversation with Cazzo, ever. I’ve barely had any conversation with him to tell you the truth. He just yells a couple of things and storms out of the room. I’ve only met him maybe two or three times.” I glanced briefly at Louie for support. “Quite honestly I hadn’t planned to charge him, Swindle Lawless, or the D’Angelos for that matter. I just wanted to get as far away as possible from all of them. You already know the Swindle story.”
Manning didn’t react but continued with his questions. “Mister Cazzo stated you demanded he bring a check to your home this morning and that once he got there you insisted on more money.”
I shook my head no.
“Then you forced him to go down into your basement at gun point.”
I continued to shake my head no.
“He said you fired your shotgun twice to emphasize just how serious you were.”
“Does Cazzo strike you as the kind of guy who would run over with a check for two grand just to make me happy and then let me force him into my basement?”
Manning didn’t respond.
“You think I fired that shotgun at a light bulb in my basement then turned around and fired another blast up the basement stairs just to make my point? Look, Detective Manning, I know we’ve had our differences, but do you really think I’d be dumb enough to do this? Check out the D’Angelos or, better yet check the blood at the top of the basement stairs.”
“There isn’t any.”
“What? Well look at least talk to Candi, she could help clear this whole thing up.”
“We’re trying to contact her so we can do just that.”
“What do you mean trying to contact her?”
“Well, it seems she hasn’t responded to any of our requests.”
“Hasn’t responded? Oh, Christ, arrest the D’Angelos now before they do something to her, and keep Cazzo locked up. Honest Manning, they’re the guys you want. If they’re still running around she’s liable to be in some serious trouble.”
“We have a monitor on the D’Angelos and know exactly where they are at all times.”
Chapter Fifty
“Jesus Christ, I have one hell of a headache,” I said.
Louie nodded and just kept driving. We were headed to his place since my house was apparently still an active crime scene and I couldn’t get back in there. The windows in the car were all the way down, but there was still the hint of exhaust lingering in the front seat of his Geo Metro. The exhaust did nothing to help my headache.
“Maybe it would be a good idea to swing by Candi’s?” I suggested between the jack-hammer pounding just behind my eyeballs.
“Maybe it wouldn’t be since both Manning and LaZelle specifically told you to stay the hell away. Besides, I’d say they probably have someone parked outside in the event she shows up. What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m calling Candi, I’m worried.”
“You idiot, they’ll be able to track that call.”
“I don’t care, I want to know she’s okay,” I said. Then I listened to the recording that said her message center was full and hung up.
“I suppose I could call the Tutti Frutti and…”
“What part of no contact do you not understand? No, Dev, we’re going to my place where you can crash on my couch for a couple of days until we get this straightened out.”
“What’s to straighten out? Cazzo and the D’Angelos, your great clients, are setting me up for Rockett’s murder and maybe that hit and run on Gary what’s-his-name.”
“Ruggles? The guy whose wife claims you got her really drunk and then took advantage of her?”
“It was a two-way street, but forget that for the moment. What about the D’Angelos?”
“The D’Angelos?”
“Yeah. They got Swindle so pickled she can barely remember her own name and now they’ve probably grabbed Candi, perfect.”
“Dev, we don’t know that they’ve grabbed anyone.”
“Seems to be pretty convenient for them that Candi suddenly can’t be found just when I need her as my alibi. Hell, she works for them. They probably called her in to work and then grabbed her. Maybe you could call the Tutti Frutti just to see if she’s there?”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you. Manning just told me no contact. He didn’t say anything about you. Besides, I wouldn’t be in this mess if I hadn’t been so pressured to help you and your cash-cow clients.”
“Yeah, well, not to worry, I’d say that deal has probably run its course for me.”
“So you’ll call the Tutti Frutti?”
“I suppose. At this point I guess it’s not like it’s going to hurt any future business.”
“Thanks.”
Louie called from his home phone and put the thing on speaker. It turned out to be a waste of time.
“No, sorry, Candi isn’t here tonight, can I take a message?” I guessed it was some bartender on the other end of the line. I could hear a hum of conversation, lousy music, and the clink of glasses in the background. I pictured the guy with a phone tucked between his ear and shoulder pulling beer taps with both hands.
“Is she scheduled to work tomorrow?” Louie asked.
“I’m sorry, sir, even if I did know I couldn’t give you that information. Maybe stop in tomorrow night to see if she’s here. We’ve got a three for one special on tequila shots between four and seven.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Louie said and hung up. “There, that didn’t help. Besides, I swore off tequila. I need a beer, you want one?”
“No better not. At least we know she’s not working. I don’t know, maybe she’s shopping or out with girlfriends. I mean what would you do?”
“What would I do? I’d get about as far away from you as possible,” he said, walking into the kitchen. I heard the refrigerator door open then the clink of a beer bottle. “You sure you don’t want one?”
“No, I better not. Maybe we should call Aaron, let him know Candi isn’t at the Tutti Frutti.”
“Good idea. That way when the cops find out you attempted to make contact with her, after they told you not to, they won’t be surprised,” Louie said. He was leaning against the kitchen door frame and proceeded to guzzle a good half of his beer. When he finished he burped audibly then ran the back of his hand across his lips.
“Yeah, maybe you do have a point.”
“You think?” he said then drained the rest of his beer and walked back into the kitchen. “Sure I can’t talk you into one?” he called. I heard the refrigerator door open again.
“No, I better not.”
Louie walked back into the living room and collapsed on the couch. He drained about a third of his new beer then looked up at me. “Dev, a couple of beers ain’t gonna hurt. I don’t need you going all responsible on me here. We’ll find her, don’t worry.”
Chapter Fifty-One
I didn’t have a beer. I spent the night on Louie’s couch tossing and turning worried sick about Candi. I’d made coffee and was in the process of warming up some breakfast pizza in the microwave when Louie stumbled into the kitchen.
“What the hell time is it?”
“According to the clock on your stove, it must be three twelve in the afternoon or the morning take your pick.”
“Very funny.”
“It’s a little after ten. Want some breakfast?” I asked, holding up a slice of pizza.
“Where’d you get that?”
“It was in your fridge.”
“It was?”
I set the piece back down on the plate. I wasn’t really that hungry. “Tell me if you think this is a bad idea; I’m going to call Aaron and offer my services to help locate Candi.”
“I think that’s a bad idea, a very bad idea.”
“Why?”
“Because it is. You are suspect number one in two murders. I don’t doubt your story about Cazzo yesterday, but you’ve got to admit it’s pretty strange. So look at it from their point of view and just stay out of the investigation.”
“I could at least tell them she wasn’t at the Tutti Frutti Club last night.”
“Another bad idea, for the same reasons it was a bad idea last night when we talked about this. They told you to stay the hell away.”
“But I’ve got information that could help their investigation.”
“No, Dev, you have information that proves you are meddling, that you are not following their instructions, and confirms the fact that you are an idiot.”
“Hmm-mmm, maybe I could call and just check to see if they located her, that she’s all right.”
“The bad ideas just keep on coming.”
“Maybe I could call to see if I can get back into my own house?”
“Now you’re talking. You want anything in that coffee?” Louie asked, pulling a bottle holding maybe an inch-and-a-half of Jameson out of the cupboard.
“I’ll take a pass,” I said and punched in Aaron’s number on my cell. Amazingly he answered after the second ring catching me off guard.
“LaZelle.”
“Aaron, Dev, ahhh just wanted to check and see if it was okay for me to go back to my place today.”
“Your place? You mean your house?”
“Yeah.”
“No, not for at least a couple of days. Where are you now?”
“Louie’s kitchen I’m having some pizza for breakfast.”
He didn’t seem to blink at my pizza line. “I want you to remain very available for the next few days, Dev. We have a question for you I don’t want to be running around town trying to find you. It’s for your own good.”
“I’m available for you guys twenty four seven,” I said.
“Good, and I don’t want you contacting the D’Angelos, Cazzo, Candi or even Swindle Lawless for that matter.”
“Not a problem.”
“Good. See that it stays that way.”
“Say, that reminds me. Candi. It occurred to me that I don’t think she was scheduled to work last night. At least that’s what I think she said when we last chatted.”
“Last chatted when?”
“Oh, a few nights back. I think she just mentioned it in passing.”
Louie’s back was to me and I watched his neck grow red as he shook his head then poured all of the Jameson into his coffee mug.
“Please tell me that wasn’t you who phoned the Tutti Frutti Club last night asking for her. Someone called a little after nine. Was it you?”
“No, I didn’t call the Tutti Frutti last night.”
Louie turned round with a shocked look on his face then gulped down the contents of his coffee mug.
“Good,” Aaron said. “We’ll have the phone records soon enough and we can check on it. We’ll track the number that phoned in. Anyway, stay the hell away, got it?”
“Yeah, relax, I know all that shit. You guys run into the D’Angelos?”
“That’s the beauty of the monitor system. We can check from here and never have to deal with that kind of slime in person. They haven’t left their house for days.”
That was a red flag because I knew differently even if Aaron didn’t.
“Sounds pretty dull to me. Maybe you should pay them a visit,” I suggested.
“You just let us worry about that and make sure you stay the hell away, got it?”
“Not to worry.”
“Anything else?” he asked.
“Well now that you mention it, I just think it might be wise if you guys…” but Aaron had already hung up.
“You idiot,” Louie said. His back was to me as he pawed unsuccessfully for another bottle of Jameson in the back of the cupboard. “Why did you even say that? They probably already know it was me that called to see if she was working.”
“Yeah, well they also know that the D’Angelos haven’t left their house for days. Bullshit. That just proves Tommy and Gino are up to something and those two fools have found a way to beat the system. God help the two of them if they hurt one hair on Candi’s head.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Louie let me borrow his car provided I first made a run to the liquor store and replenished his supply of Jameson. It quickly became apparent why he always drove with the windows down. Even roaring down I-94 with the accelerator pressed to the floor and the needle inching up toward fifty miles per hour I was worried about asphyxiation.
I was on my way to Candi’s hoping to find her sunbathing in the backyard, asleep with her head under a pillow or listening to music wearing a pair of headphones. I needed something, anything that might serve as a logical explanation for why the police couldn’t contact her. I was hoping she just didn’t hear the phone ring or the knock on the door when the police had attempted to reach her. Let’s be honest, I was grasping at straws.
I didn’t see a police presence as I came down her street, so I pulled into her empty driveway and rang her doorbell. Louie’s Geo Metro still continued to cough and sputter before gasping to a stop. I went around back, retrieved her key from the Styrofoam rock then pounded on her back door before letting myself in.
“Candi? Candi, it’s Dev. Are you home?”
The stillness in her house was not the answer I’d been hoping for. I did a quick walk through the first and second floor then started in the basement and methodically went through every room in the house looking for something, anything. I didn’t find it.
I did find the knee-high spiky heeled boots I last saw her in. They were neatly placed side by side in her walk-in closet along with a couple hundred other pairs of shoes and boots. I noticed that the sport coats, slacks, shirts from the dry cleaner and the men’s shoes were gone. I checked the bottom drawer of her dresser. The jerseys, jeans, and golf shirts I’d seen before had been replaced by Candi’s shorts and some cotton tops, although the bottle of lubricant was still there.