5 Tutti Frutti

by Mike Faricy

  As I raised the door with my foot I heard the Mercedes pick up speed. I wasn’t going to make it and tumbled to the side just as Tommy sailed past me and through the garage door.

  There were flashing lights outside’ three sets with a fourth coming across a large parking lot. Squad cars, St. Paul’s finest. One of them threw a spot light on the Mercedes as it skidded to a stop. Tommy backed up and attempted an end run off to the side. The squad car coming across the lot flicked on a siren and cut him off. Tommy jumped out of his car and ran half a dozen steps before a voice on the loud speaker shouted, “Stop. Stay where you are. Keep your hands where we can see them.”

  He took a few more steps then stopped, turned to face the spotlight, and said, “I caught that guy breaking into the warehouse, thank goodness you got here. He assaulted me and my handicapped brother when we tried to stop him.”

  I was kneeling on the warehouse floor where the garage door used to be. I was still wrapped up with the extension cord. Gino was somewhere behind me in the dark singing the theme to Sesame Street.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  “The nine one one call came through on a phone registered to Swindle Lawless,” Aaron explained.

  “We’ve had her under lock and key in the psyche ward of the treatment facility ever since she was released from Detox,” Manning added.

  They were both seated in neon-pink, hard plastic chairs that had been dragged from the hallway into my hospital room. Louie sat in the corner in the cushioned visitor’s chair.

  “So what are you saying? That Swindle didn’t place the call?”

  “I don’t see how she could,” Aaron said.

  “And the gambling club or whatever the hell was going on there?” I asked.

  “Based on the list your attorney gave us,” Aaron shot a glance at Louie who smiled politely. “The property was one of a number in foreclosure that at one time all belonged to Lester Dalton.”

  “The developer?”

  “Yeah, they’d reverted back to the bank some time ago, but he still had access. You know how the banks are,” Aaron said.

  I nodded.

  “We’ve discovered traces that suggest they worked Rockett over at that warehouse location then transported him to the address where he was found. They drowned the poor bastard in the bathtub just to finish him off. Another Lester Dalton place, by the way.”

  “So how come they got away with this stuff. You kept telling me they were monitored, or at least Gino was. You guys said they never left the house.”

  “Well, that’s pretty much the case,” Manning said, looking more than a little uneasy.

  “Pretty much the case?” I said and looked at Louie.

  “Go ahead, Detective, be my guest, enlighten my client,” Louie said.

  “Well, you see it seems that Mister D’Angelo, as a result of his war injury, lost a part of his leg and we seem to have inadvertently attached the monitor around his prosthesis.”

  The room was quiet for a long moment.

  “You put the monitor on the guy’s fake leg?” I spoke slowly and very deliberately.

  “It would appear that was the case,” Manning said not looking directly at me. His bald head was shifting from pink to a deep crimson.

  “So as long as the leg was left in the house you guys didn’t know the difference, that right? He probably just strapped on a spare wooden peg he had laying around, went out, and painted the town, right?

  “Well, that might be a little far fetched.”

  “I’m not so sure. Really great job, Detective. Very well done. Can’t tell you how safe that makes me feel. And I end up being accused of murder because you guys can’t figure out the difference. You gotta be kidding me. My life has been hell, I almost get killed, I…”

  “You weren’t officially charged,” Aaron said.

  “Thanks for that,” I replied.

  “Yeah, well, it’s all coming together. Look, you might as well hear it from me,” Aaron said. “Your gal Candi, seems she and your buddy Joey Cazzo might have had a thing for one another.”

  “What? Cazzo? When did that happen?” I asked.

  “Oh, I’d say up until about early this morning when Tommy D’Angelo fingered Cazzo for the hit and run on Ruggles. Apparently, the guy called Candi a name or something. Cazzo took offense and they used Swindle Lawless’s car to run Ruggles down.”

  “Cazzo ran the guy down in Swindle’s car?” I asked.

  “No, it was most likely Gino D’Angelo, not that he’s able to remember,” Manning said.

  “Small world isn’t it? You meet someone at a concert and it just goes downhill from there. Look, Dev, at least we’re beginning to get things all cleared up. We’ll get two murders off the books and we broke up this gambling ring. You rest up,” Aaron smiled and stood.

  “No hard feelings then, Haskell?” Manning said and extended his hand.

  “Get the hell out of here,” I said.

  Aaron and Manning left. Louie hung around for a bit until I drifted off to sleep. I woke up when someone gave me a kiss and slid her hand under the bedcover. My first thought was the nurses here were really nice. I blinked my eyes open.

  “Did I wake you, bad boy?” Candi said softly.

  “Candi. Am I dreaming?”

  “No, it’s really me. Miss me?”

  “I saw you at that house. What in the hell is going on? They almost killed me last night,” I whispered.

  “But you’re okay, aren’t you?”

  “Well, yeah, I mean I’ll live, but where have you been? Why did you disappear?”

  “I’ve been in Las Vegas, Dev. I just needed some time off. I came back this morning as soon as I heard.”

  This morning? I saw you last night, when they carried me out of there. They were going to kill me, Candi. Did you know that? They were going to kill me damn it and all you did was wave good-bye.”

  “But they didn’t, did they?”

  “Jesus Christ, do know what almost happened? They were gonna shock me. That God damned maniac Tommy and his crazy ass brother tried to run me down, kill me.”

  “But they didn’t, Dev. The police got there just in time and stopped them, didn’t they? And now you’re safe.”

  “You and Joey Cazzo, you were playing me.”

  “Dev, where did you ever get that idea?”

  “Because the cops told me and because I saw his clothes in your place, the sport coats and the golf shirts and it was you and Cazzo all along, wasn’t it?” I said, suddenly figuring things out.

  “You’re sounding crazy, baby.”

  “Besides, Tommy D’Angelo fingered Cazzo on the hit and run,” I gambled.

  “That bastard called me fat,” she shot back.

  “I knew it.”

  “What are you talking about?” she said, suddenly sounding nervous.

  “You and Cazzo, you took those photos when you drugged me. You two took those photos of Swindle, planted that phone on Rockett. You were in on it, Candi. You set me up. You drugged me for fucks sake. They were gonna kill me, Candi.”

  “You seemed to enjoy yourself. I didn’t hear any complaints from you at the time. Anyway, you can forget all that it’s over.” She smiled then kissed me.

  “Candi, damn it, that jerk Joey Cazzo?”

  “Don’t worry about him,” she said then leaned down very close, nibbled my ear, and whispered, “besides, he’s out of the picture now forever, Dev.”

  “Candi,” I said and sat up in the bed. “You can’t do this.”

  “Oh, really? Gee, Dev, sorry but it’s already done and I’ve been out in Vegas for a few days,” she laughed. “See, check it out I’ve even got airline tickets and credit card receipts from the Biaggio.” She laughed then reached into her purse and pulled out a couple of Delta boarding cards and what looked like a bunch of credit card receipts.

  “That’s all fake and you know it. You might fool the cops but I know. It’s all bullshit. You just sent someone out there using your name.” />
  “Well, sometimes a girl’s just got to do certain things to get ahead.”

  I shook my head but couldn’t think of anything to say.

  She smiled, shrugged, and looked at me for a long moment, waiting.

  After a while I turned and stared out the window. “They were gonna kill me, Candi,” I mumbled.

  I heard her exhale heavily then after a bit she said, “Last chance, bad boy.”

  I continued to stare out of the window.

  “Okay, suit yourself,” she said then picked up her purse and took a couple of steps toward the door before she turned. “Oh, something for you,” she said. There was an edge to her voice I’d never heard before. She reached into her purse and pulled out an iPhone housed in a sequined leopard skin case. She tossed it onto my bed then walked out of the room without saying another word.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  “Where did you say you got this?” Manning asked me. We were standing in a lobby on the fourth floor of the police department. Just outside homicide.

  “I was on my way to work, I opened the front door and there it was. I thought I should drop it off down here,” I said.

  “Someone just left an iPhone on your door step?” he said, turning the phone over and examining the sleazy leopard skin case.

  “I guess. I think it might be registered to Swindle.”

  “How would you know that?”

  “Just a guess. I saw her use it once, kind of hard to forget that sequined case the thing is in.”

  “So why bring it to us?” he asked.

  “Just thought it might be pertinent to one of your investigations. Besides, don’t you guys deal in lost stuff? You know, when you’re not out chasing bad guys.”

  He nodded, but didn’t say anything.

  “See you around, Detective, I’ve gotta get to work,” I said then walked back down the hall to the elevators.

  Chapter Sixty

  I was sitting on my front porch thinking about Candi, watching the world go by and sipping another beer. I was worried about her, wondering if I’d been too harsh and hoping she was okay. I sort of came out of my cloud when a skateboarder skidded onto her hands and knees on my front lawn.

  “Dev, is that you?” she said getting back up.

  I stared at the blonde hair, the bikini top, the tight shorts, and the skateboard under her arm. Her hair was pulled tightly into a pony tail. She’d had her navel pierced since the last time I’d seen her, but it was still surrounded by that sunburst tattoo. She looked reasonably together. It took me a moment before it all clicked.

  “Swindle, wow! You look great, how are you doing?”

  “Oh, fine, just fine. Been sorta straight for a while, kind of,” she said and smiled.

  A kid maybe twenty years her junior suddenly skateboarded up alongside her and came to a quick stop, flipping the board up into his hand.

  “Oh, Dev, this is Marcus, we met in treatment. Marcus, this is Dev, I sort of knew him in my other life,” Swindle said.

  Marcus looked me up and down, turned to Swindle and said, “New friends, new contacts, we put everything else behind us, my precious.”

  “‘Spose you’re right as always,” she shrugged. “Anyway, good to see you, Dev.”

  “Yeah same here, Swindle, like I said you look great. Hey, you ever see Candi?”

  “Not really, you know new friends, new contacts…”

  “Put everything else behind us,” I joined in. “Yeah, I just wondered where she was working now, that’s all.”

  “Working now? You kidding? She got all sorts of real estate and now she owns the Tutti Frutti Club. I can’t believe you didn’t hear about it. It was in all the papers. Her two uncles and her fiancée got life sentences.”

  “Fiancée? Uncles?”

  “Come on, put everything else behind us,” Marcus said then pushed off on his skateboard and headed down the street.

  “Gotta go, Dev, I’ll probably see you round,” Swindle called then rolled away.

  The End.

  If you enjoyed Dev’s adventures in Tutti Frutti, check out the sample of Bombshell just after my thank you and the list of other available titles.

  Thanks for taking the time to read Tutti Frutti. If you enjoyed this book please tell 2-300 of your closest friends and don’t miss these Mike Faricy titles;

  Slow, Slow, Quick, Quick

  Baby Grand

  Chow For Now

  Merlot

  Finders Keepers

  End of the Line

  Russian Roulette (A Dev Haskell Novel)

  Mr. Softee (A Dev Haskell Novel)

  Bite Me (A Dev Haskell Novel)

  Bombshell (A Dev Haskell Novel)

  Tutti Frutti (A Dev Haskell Novel)

  Irish Dukes (Fight Card Series) written under the pseudonym Jack Tunney

  Visit http://www.mikefaricy.com

  Email; mikefaricyauthor@gmail.com

  Twitter; @mikefaricybooks

  On Facebook; Mike Faricy Books and

  Dev Haskell

  Here’s a free sample from Bombshell, happy reading.

  Bombshell

  Chapter One

  “I’ll have a pint of Summit and a Cosmopolitan,” I said, with all the thumping music in the place I had to lean halfway across the bar just to give my drink order.

  The bartender nodded, maybe gave a slight sigh, I wasn’t sure.

  “That Cosmo for you?” a woman next to me asked then yelled “Two Summits,” across to the bartender.

  She stood about five three, brown hair, glasses, very nice figure. She had on really tight little shorts, black hose patterned to look like slinky nylons and a garter belt.

  “I look like the Cosmo type?”

  “Yeah, I knew it as soon as I saw you. You’re probably a big Sex in the City fan. I’m Justine,” she said and held out her hand.

  “Dev.”

  Her eyes bored into me as I held her hand. The music fired up again, so loud we had to speak into each other’s ear. We were in danger of getting body slammed by a half dozen twenty-something girls jumping up and down behind us. They were shaking their hair, waving their hands over their heads. Screaming “woo, woo,” as they twirled around.

  “You come here often? You don’t really look the type,” she half shouted.

  “Woo, woo,” the girls screamed, oblivious to all but themselves.

  “I’ve managed to avoid this place thus far, not exactly my style. I knew I was in trouble as soon as I had to pay the cover charge at the door.”

  She nodded toward the beer and the Cosmopolitan landing in front of me. I handed the bartender a couple of fives.

  “Twelve-fifty,” he mouthed the words.

  “Twelve?”

  “Twelve-fifty,” he seemed to smile at the joke.

  I gave him another five and shook my head.

  “Apparently she’s got expensive tastes. Maybe you should think about finding a girl who likes beer.”

  “Fortunately she has some good points, too,” I said into her ear.

  “Don’t we all.” Then she gave me that stare again.

  I raised my pint glass in a toast to Justine, knocked a couple of inches off the top and carefully picked up the Cosmopolitan.

  “Be good,” I said.

  “I have a lot more fun when I’m bad.”

  “You’re telling me,” I said. Then thought it might be a wise idea to retreat to my table.

  I delivered the Cosmopolitan to my date, Carol. She was nestled into a gang of girlfriends all talking about stars whose names I didn’t recognize. Each one held a different colored, overpriced drink in front of them. I reached over the shoulder of some long haired guy who had taken up residence on my stool and handed Carol her Cosmopolitan.

  “Watch it, you’ll spill,” she snapped, then turned and shook her head at the guy on my stool. He smiled back at her, gave his head a shake to send his hair back over his shoulders, then used a finger to push misbehaving strands behind each ear.r />
  “Dev, this is Nicholas, he’s from France,” Carol yelled over the noise.

  I nodded and figured Nicholas was attracted to Carol by the same things that had attracted me.

  “Dev, get Nicholas a drink, will you. What are you drinking?” Carol screamed then placed a hand on his wrist just as the music stopped.

  “There is French beer, no?” Nicholas said, looking up at me hopefully.

  “I don’t think so.” I said.

  “No Caracole? No Saxo?” He sounded put out.

  “No. Summit, Leinenkugel, Grain Belt and they got Guinness.

  “Pity. French beer is the very best” Nicholas directed this toward Carol.

  Carol smiled like she understood, like it was a fact everyone automatically knew, nodding as if she had a refrigerator full of French beer in her kitchen.

  “Oh, I just love your accent,” she shrugged. “Maybe you’d like a Cosmopolitan?”

  “I think I may try the Martini, yes?” he said, suggesting he’d never had one before.

  “That sounds so cute.”

  “A Martini?” I figured that would be at least six bucks.

  “Yes, a vodka Martini, a double.” He sounded like he may have ordered one before.

  “A double?” I asked.

  “Where are the olives from?”

  “The olives? A jar.” I was liking Nicholas less with every passing second.

  “Dev, stop it. Just go and get Nicholas his Martini.” Carol glared, and then added “please,” as an after thought.

  “And two olives,” Nicholas reminded.

  Carol gave me a look that said, ‘Don’t even think of causing a scene,’ then turned back to focus on Nicholas.

  “Double vodka Martini, your cheapest bar pour. I better have another Summit, too,” I said to the bartender.

  “She’s onto Martini’s now?”