ELEVEN
With the traffic, it took me about thirty minutes to get down to Medford, or as the indigenous big-haired green-mascara Camaro-driving tribe referred to it, Meffa.
Chief Fontini wasn’t around and his cute young secretary said he wouldn’t be back until later in the day. I flashed my best million-dollar smile and tried to coerce her into telling me where he was but she didn’t fall for it. I almost left a message but decided against it.
I cruised back up Route 93 and over to 128, or as they were trying to call it now, Route 95. Most of the high tech corporation offices are located along the Route 128 belt and that’s where I’d find my wayward Chief Executive Officers.
When you want to talk to the CEO of a large corporation without an appointment, it’s exceptionally hard to get in. They employ thick-necked security types who guard the front door to stop guys like me from getting in. How fortuitous that I had the secret password for immediate access, “Misty from AAA Escorts.” By amazing coincidence it worked both times I used it. What are the odds that two unconnected companies shared the same password to see the CEO?
What I found wasn’t all that surprising. Both men were married, in their fifties and had a picture of their doting wife and spoiled children on their desks. I learned they only saw Karen once or twice a month. Both had the distinct idea that she was very busy since they wanted to see her more but claimed she couldn’t fit them into her schedule. One of them had been seeing her for about fifteen months and other close to a year. Each man paid an average of a thousand a night to the escort agency, then another thousand directly to Karen for “additional services.”
That seemed about right. Escort services are by and large legal businesses. The illegality comes in when the client pays the escort an additional fee on the side for sexual favors. Karen most likely received very little money from AAA Diamond itself, earning the rest on her “tips.”
I waited for the “do you know who I am” threats from each man but they never came. Both men were aware of Karen’s death from the local news and one almost cried right at his desk. I could tell they were only crocodile tears, designed to make me feel pity in the vain hope I wouldn’t expose his dirty little secret to his wife. I left it open, never committing to not telling the cops what I knew. I wasn’t prone to blackmail, but I might need something from one of them in the near future and I still hadn’t ruled either man out as a suspect.
I killed about four hours running the two CEOs down and I headed for the doctor’s office in Stoneham. It was getting late in the day and I wanted to get back to Medford so I didn’t bother to use the password. I walked right past the nurse and into his office. When I said her name, without another word he stood up and closed the door to give us some privacy.
A single tear dripped down his face when I told him she had been murdered. He hadn’t seen the news and I believed his emotions to be sincere. Like the CEOs, he couldn’t offer any useful information. I thanked him and went on my way after snatching a grape lollipop from the checkout counter. My gut said these three had nothing to do with her death and currently, I had nothing to disprove that feeling. I headed back to Medford and as luck would have it, found Chief Fontini on his way out of the station. Other than some extra pounds and a few additional lines on his face, he looked much the same as he had fifteen years ago. He had about five inches on me and I guessed at least fifty pounds.
“Chief Fontini.”
He turned and looked at me for a brief moment, finally recognizing my face.
“You were my son’s roommate in college.”
“Yes, sir, Ronan Marino.”
We shook hands. He had a strong firm grip.
“Yes, Ronan. That’s right. I remembered you had an unusual name. I think my son told me you were still in the Air Force, right?”
‘Not anymore.”
“Oh? What are you doing now?”
As reasonable as it was I was getting tired of that question. I was thinking about printing up little cards with the answer to save time.
“Not all that much. Do you have a few minutes?”
“I’m late for an appointment.”
“This is important.”
“Come on back tomorrow, I’ll put you on my calendar.”
He was walking fast, somewhat ignoring me. He got to his gleaming black Ford Crown Victoria and opened the door.
“We need to talk about Karen Pommer,” I said.
“Don’t know her.”
“You knew her as Misty.”
He turned and glared at me like I had just cursed his mother.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“You don’t know Misty from AAA Escort Services?”
He nervously looked around.
“Keep your voice down. How do you know about her?”
“She was murdered.”
“Murdered? I read she died up in Lowell. They found her floating in the river. I recognized her picture in the paper but it said her death was probably an accident.”
“That’s what the papers say. I’m looking into this and I came across your name from the escort agency.”
“They gave it to you?”
“No, I took it.”
He let out a long sigh. “Get in the car.”
I walked around the other side and he opened the door remotely. I waited for him to get in and followed. He slammed his door and looked straight ahead.
“That information was supposed to be private.”
“I understand that, but I don’t believe her death to be an accident. Someone killed her and when I found out she was working as an escort, I figured it could have been one of her clients.”
“I didn’t fucking kill anyone.”
“I didn’t say you did, Chief. All I want to know is if she ever said anything to you that might provide some clues as to who might have wanted her dead.”
“Not that I can remember.”
“Nothing?”
“Jesus Christ, I said nothing. Okay?”
Men in his position aren’t used to being questioned and he was growing frustrated with me. Good. If he was involved with her death, perhaps he’d try something stupid with me.
“You need to let this go. Do you know who she ultimately worked for?” He asked.
“Yeah, Duffy Fitzpatrick. You think I give a fuck?”
He turned and looked at me, a surprised look on his face. Evidently Duffy’s businesses were supposed to be a state secret. Someone needed to tell him his security sucked.
“That’s right and if I were you, I would give a fuck,” Fontini said.
“I’m not you. I don’t have as much at stake here as you do.”
“You’re wrong. He’ll kill you or anyone else that messes with him, son. You’re smart enough to know that.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“You always were a cocky little shit; even back in college.”
“Some would say I’m even worse now. Look, I just want some help here. I didn’t come here to argue with you.”
“Have you talked to my son?”
“No, this is between us.”
He looked down, his mind evaluating the situation.
“You’re emotionally connected.”
“Yes.”
“You doing her?”
“I wasn’t a paying customer.”
“I see. You know I could just shoot you to shut you up. Just say you attacked me out here. It’d be my word against a dead man.”
“You’d be dead before you cleared leather, Chief.”
I moved my jacket over and showed him the .45. He was very right about one thing; I was a cocky son of a bitch when I wanted to be.
“Okay, I’ll tell you what you want to know, but we’ll not talk about this again. Understand?”
“Deal.”
He leaned back in his seat, choosing his words carefully.
“I met Misty at a party downtown about a year ago. A wonderful girl, bright,
gorgeous, articulate and fun to be around.”
“And very expensive, especially for a police chief.”
“I never paid.”
“Which means you’re on the hook to Duffy.”
He gritted his teeth. He didn’t like hearing the words, no matter how true.
“You don’t understand how things work.”
“I understand perfectly. Ever hear of Sal Marino?”
I rarely name drop, but this was an appropriate time.
“Italian crime boss…yes, Marino. It never occurred to me when I met you up at school. Family?”
“He’s my uncle, so I do understand how things work.”
Again, he sighed. He sighed way too much for my tastes.
“Duffy can’t know I talked with you.”
“He and I don’t hang out much anymore.”
“I only saw her about twice a month. I wanted more but she was always busy with other things. I had to schedule her weeks in advance so I figure she must have been very popular.”
“She only had four other clients.”
“I don’t know what else she did. She didn’t tell me much about her life and I really didn’t want to know.”
“Ever know her to do drugs?”
“Not that I could tell. She liked expensive champagne though.”
“Most women do. Anything else?”
“Not really.”
“You fucking any of Duffy’s other girls yet?”
“I never went looking for it, Ronan. It just happened.”
That didn’t deserve a response. I simply frowned and he started to squirm. “What are you going to do if you find out it was Duffy who had her killed?”
“Why would he do that?”
“I can think of plenty of reasons why he might kill an escort.”
“Do you think he did it?’
“What if he did? Do you have what it takes to kill him, son?”
“If need be.”
He laughed out loud. “That’s amusing.”
“I’m glad I could entertain you but I’ve killed when I’ve had to.”
“I see. Maybe I’ll poke around and see what I can find out. If you don’t hear from me, it means I’ve got nothing for you and I don’t ever want to see your face around here again. Give me your number.”
He handed me a scrap of paper and I wrote down my cell number for him.
“One thing before I go, Chief. I’m not your fucking son so don’t ever talk down to me and call me that again. Got it?”
He nodded his head slow and unconvincingly. I climbed out of the car and he drove away, never looking back. I’d probably never hear from him again. The only thing he’d be poking around was his dick in another one of Duffy’s girls.
He was definitely concerned though. A guilty conscience is hard to live with and Chief Fontini was worried he’d eventually be exposed. Guilt eats away at your soul and makes you less of a man. I read that once in a Spiderman graphic novel.
I got in my Jeep and jumped back up onto Route 93 north toward Lawrence. It was three-thirty and I hoped Santa was still holding court. It would be nice to run down all five clients in one day. Fate however was against me.
There are three constants in Massachusetts; politicians are corrupt, taxes are high and traffic will always be backed up when you need to be somewhere. Everything else was secondary.
I hit constant number three when traffic slowed to a stop in Woburn. The radio said there was an accident a few miles ahead and traffic was at a crawl; so much for seeing the jolly old elf today. I sat back, turned up the radio and listened to local talker Howie Carr bitch about the constants.
TWELVE
I didn’t sleep well that night and had dreams that kept waking me, yet I couldn’t remember them. In my current state of mind it was probably better that way. I’m sure the dreams had nothing to do with a beautiful intelligent woman with conservative views in a black lace teddy drinking champagne in front of a roaring fire.
I headed down to the gym to try and shake the cobwebs. I hadn’t been able to lift weights because of my bruised ribs but they were feeling good enough today to give it a shot. I hated when I couldn’t exercise because my body started to feel flabby. I realized it was merely psychological but that provided little solace.
My gym is located over in neighboring Tewksbury across from a nearly empty strip mall. It had the latest aerobic torture machines and a huge free weight area. Mirrors surrounded the workout room so the narcissistic types could gaze at their sweaty buffed bods. I liked them because you could sneak peeks at the ladies without the appearance that you were leering at them.
It was mid-morning when I got there so the heavy pre-work crowd was gone. I enjoyed coming at this time because the primary group exercising were MILFs or to the uninitiated, “Mothers I’d Like to Fuck.” Most wore skimpy little workout clothes and since I’m one of the few men there at this time of day, they often asked questions about different exercises or machines.
Tony would have had a field day there. I however maintained my gentlemanly behavior and only stared when I thought I could get away with it. Most were married anyway and that was the last hassle I needed. Married women were a place I definitely had to draw the line especially after being the victim of an unfaithful spouse.
I managed to get in a fairly decent workout with minimal pain. The ribs barely held me up at all. I hung out in the steam room for a while, showered and went to get some late breakfast; I did Dunkin’s instead of the Raven for fear of giving in to Jesse’s feminine wiles. I was also picking up donuts for Shea and his boys so I killed two birds with one stone.
I found Shea sitting in his cluttered office reading the Sun.
“Slow day for crime in the city?”
“Hey, Ronan, how goes it?”
He stood and shook my hand.
“We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
He looked pleased. “Let me get Morley and Garcia.”
“You might want to hear this first. Besides, don’t you want first crack at the good donuts?”
“Is this close-the-door bad?”
I nodded and closed it for him.
Twenty minutes later I had spilled all I knew, right down to Karen’s job with AAA Diamond, Chief Fontini’s involvement with her, the rogue cops and Duffy Fitzgerald.
“Duffy is a tough character. You sure you want to tangle with him?”
“I have to.”
“I know. I just wanted to be sure that after you get whacked I’d have a clear conscience for warning you.”
“Forever practicing CYA.”
“I’d be a meter maid if I didn’t.”
He finished off his second donut and wiped the crumbs off his hands into the garbage can.
“I think we should call in the state police. Maybe even the feebs. They could maybe help with Duffy,” he offered.
“Fontini’s kid is a trooper and we both know you can’t necessarily trust the feds especially after the whole Whitey Bulger case.”
“You were a federal agent.”
“Well sort of, but it’s always a crapshoot who you’ll get assigned.”
“That’s always a risk especially in the times we live in.”
He was eyeing another donut, all the while considering how to handle this situation.
“You know Lowell is part of Duffy’s territory,” he said.
“Which means he probably has a few people in local government on his payroll.”
“Probably even some on this department; though I can’t prove it,” he lamented.
“What’s he own here?”
“A couple of bars and restaurants; at least that I know of. All of them legitimate businesses so there’s not all that much I can do about it.”
He chose another donut, a chocolate cruller and took a bite.
“If I don’t make a call, and I’m not saying I won’t, what’s your plan?” He asked.
“I don’t know yet. Can you give me a few days?”
“Reluctantly.”
I got up and opened the door. “I’ll keep you posted.”
“You better.”
He stood and put his hand on my shoulder.
“Ronan, Duffy won’t hesitate to put a hit out on you.”
“We can only hope.”
“You better take this a bit more seriously. You’re playing with fire. I know you were involved in some heavy fighting overseas, but this is different.”
“Absolutely,” I responded. “It’s not like there are hundreds of religious fanatics out to kill me.”
“You also don’t have a gunship circling to bail your ass out either.”
“Good point and in spite of the jokes, I’m definitely concerned.”
I wasn’t kidding. At least when I was in the Air Force I could always rely on someone to watch my back and come to the rescue if things got too hot. We also had some fairly heavy planning sessions to plot out our every move. In this environment, there was no operations order and I was making things up as I went. I knew I had Tony, Shea and my brother if I needed them, but I was generally working on my own and one wrong move and Duffy’s crew would be feeding my body through a wood chipper. I was determined to avoid that fate but just as determined to find Karen’s killer. It made for an odd little internal struggle.
I’d just pulled onto Route 495 toward Lawrence when Marc called.
“I just got a call about running that black car,” he said.
“And?”
He liked to hold me in suspense whenever he had the chance. “A Lieutenant Francis from Medford PD wanted to know why we were running the plate. It’s one of their special purpose vehicles.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“You know him?” he asked.
“Frances no, but his chief was on Karen’s client list.”
There was a momentary silence on the line. He didn’t like what I just told him.
“I know Chief Fontini. He’s on the Mass Chief of Police Association board; struck me as being pretty sharp. You sure you have the right guy?”
“Talked to him yesterday.”
“Did he admit it?”
“Yes and it gets worse. It looks like he may be in Duffy Fitzpatrick’s back pocket.”
Lloyd Corricelli - Ronan Marino 01 - Two Redheads & a Dead Blonde Page 15