The Window Washer

by Eric Rill

  “Everyone’s into material things, Angela,” Howell said, a frown sliding down his face.

  “Look, you said you had something really important about the court case.”

  The buzzer sounded. Howell jumped up from his chair and reached for the rusted security chain. Hopefully, this is going to be the last meeting in this shithole, he thought to himself.

  “Sorry I’m late, Angela,” Nick offered. “The meeting went on longer than I thought. So what’s the big deal that dragged us down here?” he asked, turning back toward Howell.

  “What? No pleasantries?” Clancy Howell said.

  “Cut the shit, Howell. Did you get everything handled to drop the case or not?”

  “I have good news for both of you,” Howell said. “They found Castellano’s killer.”

  Nick Grant looked over at Angela. “Are you serious? Why haven’t we heard about it, or read it in the paper?” Angela said.

  “I just came from the AG’s office. The FBI informed her less than two hours ago.”

  “Who did it?” Angela asked.

  “It was Detective Rosa.”

  “Oh my God!” Angela exclaimed. “Bones. I can’t believe it. I mean, I know he’s a scumbag, but murder?”

  “Look. I’m sure this has been hard, and I want to make it up to both of you.”

  “Meaning what?” Nick Grant asked.

  “Meaning I want to arrange for you to have a sizable payment so you can get back on your feet after all this distraction.”

  “And who would be making this payment?” Nick asked.

  “That, you don’t have to know.”

  “What’s in it for you?” Angela asked. “There’s obviously a catch.”

  “The only condition is you don’t mention my involvement or the AG’s in this unfortunate situation.”

  40

  Leo Rigby sat with his feet hiked up on his desk, reading the Dispatch article about the grand jury indictment in the Salvatore Massimo case. The mob up in Cleveland had been picked apart by the feds, resulting in more than a dozen arrests on charges ranging from aiding and abetting to murder.

  He knew that, even if there were convictions, there would be endless appeals. That’s how it was with the Mafia, who had limitless funds to hire the most prominent law firms. He also knew the New York family had already sent in new wiseguys to set up shop in Cleveland. But that would be Danny Karp’s problem now that he was retiring.

  “Leo, I need to speak to you,” Maggie Parks said as she walked through the open door.

  “Maggie, they’re giving me a retirement party in two weeks, and from the look on your face, I would like to suggest that you wait until my successor is on board.”

  “It can’t wait,” Maggie said. She paused for a moment and then continued. “I screwed up big-time.”

  “Sounds like you need to go to confession, not burden me with whatever is bugging you.”

  “Leo, I’m serious. Please just hear me out.”

  “I’m listening,” Rigby said, his face still glued to the newspaper.

  “I wired up Lawrence Grant the day he got killed. Not only did I wire him up but I was only a couple of minutes behind him when he was murdered at that gas station.”

  “You what?” Rigby snapped, dropping the newspaper on his desk.

  “I had spent so much time on his case. I just couldn’t let it go,” Maggie said. “I never dreamed they would kill him.”

  Rigby wiped his damp palm over his face. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Not from you, Maggie. And not when I’m almost out of here.”

  “I still have the body pack, if that’s any help.”

  “That’s great, but I think you’re still in deep shit.”

  “Do you want me to resign?” Maggie asked.

  “I don’t know,” Rigby said. “I’ll have to speak to Albertson and take his temperature on this one.”

  Maggie’s toyed with some papers on Rigby’s side table, then looked over at him. “Something else you’re not going to want to hear.”

  Rigby swung his legs off the desk down to the floor. “Now what?”

  “I haven’t come forward with what I’m about to tell you because I was torn about ratting someone out. And my divulging it now has nothing to do with my situation. You have to believe me on this,” Maggie implored.

  “Get on with it, Maggie.”

  “When I went down to Albertson’s office to sub for you when you were on vacation…”

  “Yeah, yeah, I remember. So what?”

  “Leo, Albertson had a tape that revealed Levin was going to kill Grant before the attempted murder. Nick Grant’s wife and kid died instead, when she went down to the basement for a smoke.”

  “You’re telling me Albertson had the tape before all this happened?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “So where’s this tape?” Rigby demanded.

  “He told me he destroyed it so it wouldn’t come back on him.”

  “Can you prove all of this?”

  “I didn’t tape the conversation, if that’s what you mean,” Maggie said.

  “Too bad. If we had it, we could have nailed him,” Rigby said. “But we could pretend you did. If he thinks you were wired, worst case, we make a deal that won’t land him in prison, but will probably result in a very quick retirement with no pension. Best case, he caves and serves time. I never liked that prick in the first place, so that part of your news is music to my ears.”

  “He’s certainly not lovable,” Maggie agreed.

  “Would you swear to this under oath?” Rigby asked.

  “If I have to, I will, but I hate to rat out anyone in the Bureau, even Albertson.”

  “You do this, and I’ll see what I can do for you up in Washington.”

  “That’s not why I told you, Leo.”

  “I know it’s not. If I thought otherwise, I wouldn’t even think of going to bat for you.”

  41

  It was standing room only at the bar of the Crown Hotel. A definite change had taken place since Nick Grant had become owner and managing director. His happy-hour policy of half-priced drinks and appetizers resonated with the young lawyers and financial executives from the surrounding office buildings.

  Grant, Angela Ferraro, and Clancy Howell were crowded into a booth at the back of the lounge, away from the cacophony on this Friday night.

  “I already told you,” Howell said in a hushed voice. “Best we can do is one hundred thousand.”

  “That’s not going to cut it,” Nick Grant said. “We need more than that.”

  “Doesn’t appear so, judging from the business you’re doing,” Howell said, glancing over at the long onyx-colored bar.

  “Don’t let the crowd fool you. We have a ton of expenses,” Grant said. “Obviously, you politicos know nothing about business. Probably never held a real job.”

  “Wow! Easy does it,” Howell said. “How do you think the state functions? Not with greedy people who just care about money.”

  “Look, Clancy,” Angela interjected. “Trust me. This isn’t only about the money. This is payback for the misery you caused both of us. We will get what we can from you, even if we have a party and watch it all go up in smoke.”

  “I didn’t do anything except what I thought was right for the state.”

  “Right for the state, or right for you and the AG?” Nick Grant said. “Let’s be clear. You were more interested in your own political agenda than what was right for the people of Ohio.”

  “That’s not true,” Howell retorted.

  “Guess this meeting is probably a waste of time,” Nick Grant said. “Because aside from your money, we want an apology for raking us over the coals.”

  “How about we keep it at a hundred thousand and an apology?” Howell offered, knowing that Rudy Pagliano had told him in no uncertain terms that one hundred thousand was the maximum he would “contribute.”

  “An apology from you and the AG?” Grant said.


  “I can speak for the AG,” Howell replied.

  “We’re listening,” Angela said, leaning back against the banquette.

  Clancy Howell cleared his throat. “Look, it wasn’t supposed to be this way. Things just got a bit out of hand and, well, this case was going to cause the AG some issues with her reelection.”

  “So you put us through hell so she could get reelected. And you obviously knew what you did was wrong and illegal.”

  Howell glanced around the room. “Yes, I guess it was wrong. I don’t know about illegal. A court would have to decide that, and hopefully our deal will make that a moot point.”

  “But you obstructed justice, knowingly putting an undercover cop up for murder against her will,” Nick Grant said. “And putting her life at risk.”

  “What more can I say? Yes, we did, and honestly, Angela, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to turn out this way.”

  “Okay, I can accept that,” Nick Grant said. “Are you good with it, Angela?”

  “Where’s the money?” Angela asked, looking over at Howell.

  “Do we have a deal that will bring this saga to an end?” Howell asked.

  “Once you hand over the money,” Nick Grant said.

  Clancy Howell reached down for the briefcase resting on his lap, put it on the table, and slid it over between Angela and Nick. “One hundred thousand even, in new hundred-dollar bills. The lock code is two-four-six. No need to count it here,” he said.

  “I’m sure there is no need,” Nick Grant said. “If it’s not all there… Well, you know what will happen.”

  42

  “What’s this all about?” Bob Albertson said. “My secretary said you had to see me today.”

  “Not even a ‘How was your trip down from Columbus?’” Leo Rigby said.

  “Leo, I don’t like my schedule being interrupted. So this better be good.”

  “Unfortunately, it may not be good for you,” Rigby said.

  “What can’t be good for me? I’ve got only three months left here; then it’s off to Sarasota for a life of fishing and golf,” Albertson said. “Speaking of the wonderful afterlife of an FBI alumnus, you must be excited to finally get out. I got an invite to your retirement party at the Hyatt up in Columbus. I’m going to try my best to get there. With everything winding down, it might be tough.”

  “Not a big deal, if you can’t make it.”

  “So, what was so important?” Albertson said.

  “Bob, this is not easy for me. I…”

  “Come on. Spit it out.”

  “Maggie Parks came down a few months ago when I was on vacation.”

  “Tough cookie, that one is. I don’t think she smiled once the whole day.”

  “She is no-nonsense and pigheaded, that’s for sure,” Rigby said. “Bob, Maggie said you knew about Levin’s attempt on Lawrence Grant’s life before it happened.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Albertson said, his face flushing.

  “You don’t remember telling her you had a tape and destroyed it?”

  “She must have been confused or heard it wrong. I told her I figured it was plausible that Levin may have been there to do something. After all, he was in the basement when he died.”

  “Bob, you’re making this very difficult for me. After all, you’re my boss.”

  “Then let’s just say it was an error in judgment on your part. We can go downstairs for a quick lunch, and you can get back to Columbus before rush hour.”

  “It’s not as easy as that, Bob.”

  “What’s not easy?”

  “Maggie is known to wear a wire so she can remember things that are said in meetings with her informants. I didn’t think she does it with internal meetings. But it appears she did when she came down to meet with you and the other agents.”

  “That’s preposterous. And might I add, against Bureau rules.”

  “But it is what it is, Bob. She has a tape that she claims has you dead to rights on this thing. And she is going to take it straight to Washington, bypassing me because I report to you.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I’m just telling you what she told me. She said she was going to head up to the Hoover Building early next week if…”

  “If what?”

  “If you don’t own up to it.”

  “How can I own up to something I didn’t do?”

  “I’m only the messenger,” Rigby said.

  “That little bitch. That little scumbag bitch,” Albertson fumed.

  “What are you going to do, Bob?”

  43

  It was 8:00 P.M. Three TVs were perched on the end of the boardroom table, each one blaring the local political news. CBS affiliate WBNS-10 was the first to announce the results. NBC’s WCHM Channel 4 and ABC’s WSYX Channel 6 were not far behind. Millie Landry was the projected winner over her opponent, Clyde Payson, for attorney general.

  Clancy Howell had briefed Millie on his dealings with Grant and the girl. Rudy Pagliano, the benefactor of the hundred grand, was already breathing down Millie’s neck for the contract for the overpasses on I-71.

  “Pagliano is a real swine,” Millie said. “It’s only been two weeks since you sewed up the deal with Grant and Ferraro.”

  “We knew what he was like going in,” Howell said. “But he was the only live one to get us out of this mess.”

  Millie and Howell were seated at the far end of the boardroom table, opposite the TVs, a bottle of Chivas and two half-full glasses in front of them.

  “A toast to another term as AG,” Howell said as he reached for his scotch.

  Millie nodded as she took a gulp from her glass. “I’m glad we put that to bed,” Millie said. “Should be clear sailing from here on.”

  “Yeah, those two could have caused you a real problem,” Howell said.

  “Make that ‘us,’” Millie replied. “Everything you did was for both of us, not for me alone.”

  “Whoa, I just took orders from you,” Howell said.

  “Testy, testy, Clancy. I just told you to do whatever you had to in order to ensure my victory. I never asked you to break the law.”

  “No one will ever know anything, unless the girl or Grant go against us. My guess is they’ll just take their cash and be quiet. After all, they have now been bribed,” Howell said with a smile. “I don’t think they’re in any position to do anything without taking a fall with us.”

  Hank Morton lumbered through the open door, followed by several men in dark suits.

  “Captain, what are you doing here?” Millie asked.

  “It gives me no pleasure, but unfortunately, we are here to arrest both of you.”

  “What are you talking about?” Howell said.

  “Angela Ferraro and Nick Grant met you at the bar at the Crown, right?”

  “Maybe. So what if they did? That’s no crime,” Howell said.

  “Nope, but obstruction of justice and bribery are.” Morton pulled a small recording device from his overcoat. “Do I have to play it?” he asked.

  As the officers cuffed the attorney general and Howell, Morton began, “You have the right to remain silent.…”

  44

  “I feel bad that I put you in such an awkward position with Albertson and the bigwigs in Washington,” Maggie Parks said.

  “I really don’t care about that. I’m out of here in less than a week,” Leo Rigby replied. “The fact that you reported Albertson’s not trying to prevent a possible homicide, and a situation that resulted in an even worse tragedy, should have saved you.”

  “It could have been a lot worse,” Maggie said. “They could have put me through the ringer, even sent me up for what I did to Lawrence Grant. I don’t have to tell you the law.”

  “But unlike Albertson, you did it to help the Bureau,” Rigby said.

  “Let’s be honest. I did it because I was on a mission to nail the bad guys, even at the expense of breaking the Bureau rules and maybe the law. I think as
much as I don’t like Albertson, he did it for the same reasons,” Maggie said. “He just didn’t care about the carnage that would result.”

  “No, Maggie, the difference is he knew beforehand and you didn’t. That’s why he got what he got.”

  “How hard was it to get him to fess up without hearing the tape?” Maggie asked.

  “He must have figured you really did record him, because it only took one day for him to get back to me and ask for my help with Washington.”

  “Did you do anything for him?”

  “Well, if you call counseling him to tell the truth and plead for mercy…”

  “That’s it?”

  “I told him to admit to it, without mentioning he knew you had taped him. I advised him to say he had lived with this for so long and wanted to clear his conscience before he retired. That gave him a bit of a way out, and saved you from telling your story without any tape.”

  “I suppose it did save me from a messy situation, but it didn’t help him much.”

  “Leaving the Bureau just short of retirement with no pension is better than going to prison. But my guess is that without his pension, his days in the sunny south won’t be happening,” Rigby said. “I figure they would have liked to have put him away, but didn’t want to bring up shit that would tarnish the Bureau’s reputation.”

  “Is that why they’re going to let me retire with full pension? Or did you have something to do with it?”

  “I have a meeting to get to.” Rigby smiled. “See you at my party?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for anything, Leo.”

  45

  Nick Grant and Angela Lussardi sat in a booth at the back of the Madison Bar in the Crown Hotel, watching the large flat-screen TV hanging above the shelves of liquor and wine. The local news was regurgitating the events of the past weeks and the arrests that followed. Angela didn’t say a word when her picture came up on the screen with a banner beneath it saying, Angela Lussardi, the unsung hero.

  “I guess even you are going to have to get used to ‘Lussardi,’” Nick said.

  “You’d have a few confusing moments too, if you had been living in another world with a phony name for so long,” she said. “Sometimes it seems so surreal, like Angela Ferraro was another person entirely. And frankly, one I’m not sure I liked.”