Vanished: A Luca Mystery - Book 2

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Vanished: A Luca Mystery - Book 2 Page 4

by Dan Petrosini


  “He ain’t no buddy of mine, just a guy I know.”

  “Well, this guy you know, he said to check with you on what happened to Phil Gabelli.”

  “What do you mean, what happened? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Said you didn’t like Gabelli, and, who knows, you’ve been known to assault people. Who knows, maybe you threw him a beating.”

  He took the tiniest step forward, and I leaned toward him as a warning.

  “I don’t know what bullshit you’re chasing down, mister. But I don’t know what you’re talking about. This Gabelli dude, he had a smart mouth, he thought who the hell he was.”

  “You had to put him in his place?”

  “I never laid a finger on him. Would’ve loved to knock him off his high horse, but I’m practicing restraint these days. Even been meditating.”

  Meditating. I’d pay to see this hood humming, cross-legged on the floor.

  “Guess you have to find a new chant. Weren’t you picked up in a brawl at Rusty’s about ten days ago?”

  “Look, that wasn’t my fault. That punk was egging me on. Kept moving the cue ball. I told him to cut it out, but he didn’t listen. I had to do something; everybody was watching. I got a reputation, you know, I gotta keep it intact.”

  Wow, he wasn’t looking to be the Dalai Lama after all.

  “Did Gabelli egg you on?”

  “You got it all wrong, man.”

  “Do I?”

  “Let me tell you, he was a wiseass, no doubt, but he didn’t threaten me or screw me around like that asshole in Rusty’s. Closest he came was when he kept pestering me, wanting to bet me he could pick up this woman at a blackjack table.”

  Woman and Phil Gabelli, perfect together. “Did you bet him?”

  “I told you I don’t gamble. Besides, I hate to say it, but he did have a way with women.”

  “So, I hear.”

  Turnberry was a dead end, I was beginning to realize. I’d poke around a bit more, but the question circling around my head was why Stewart fingered him as someone to talk to.

  “You get along with Stewart?”

  “Look, I didn’t touch either one of those guys.”

  “I’m not saying you did. Just trying to understand what I’m doing here talking to you.”

  “You’ll have to ask Stewart.”

  Finally, a piece of advice I could use.

  Chapter 9

  Stewart

  “Success each day should be judged by the seeds sown, not the harvest reaped.” - John C. Maxwell

  I said, “Hello, Detective Luca?”

  “Yes, sir. Who’s this?”

  “Dom Stewart, you know, Robin and, uh, Phil’s friend.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  Not even a freaking hello?

  “Well, I got to thinking about Phil and his wandering eye and I remembered that there was this girl from the islands he was tied up with.”

  “Islands?”

  “Yeah, I think it was Martinique, or maybe St. Maarten, one of those French islands in the Caribbean.”

  “Go on.”

  “You know, I’m ninety-nine percent sure it was Martinique. Well, Phil was into her for a while, I mean he was really into her, big time. He’d see her a lot and they’d disappear for days at a time.”

  “When was this?”

  “About three years ago.”

  “He’d go down to Martinique to see her?”

  “Sometimes, but she’d come up a lot. She worked for an airline. I think it was American.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Not certain, her first name was Nicole, though. Last name was something like Paster, Passor . . .”

  “This was three years ago, you say?”

  “Maybe a bit longer.”

  “And then it ended after how long?”

  “I don’t know exactly, but I’d say the better part of a year.”

  “And do you know if they picked up again?”

  I had to admit that was a good question I hadn’t thought of.

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Okay, we’ll look into it, but it sounds like a long shot.”

  “No, you gotta check it out, Detective.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “He and her had a kid together.”

  “A kid?”

  “Yeah, a little boy.”

  “Does Robin know about this?”

  Again, calling her Robin. “No, Robin would’ve killed him. Robin wanted kids like crazy, but Phil didn’t, said it’d cramp his lifestyle. I even think, but I’m not one hundred percent, that he made her have an abortion.”

  “Robin?”

  “Yeah, it’s really sad. She just wants to be a mother. Every woman should be able to.”

  “Do you think Robin found out somehow and killed Phil in a rage?”

  “I donno. I don’t think so, but I guess you never know, do you?”

  “I don’t understand something, Mr. Stewart.”

  Mr. Stewart? “What’s that, Detective?”

  “You just remembered this relationship?”

  “Yeah, Philly had a lot of horses in his stable.”

  “Any of them had kids with him?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Any of them from an island?”

  “No.”

  “Seems like most people would remember those things, Mr. Stewart.”

  Shit, I shouldn’t have laid it on so thick. I wanted to hang up.

  “I guess I just didn’t think he’d go back to her.”

  “I see. By the way, I went to see Turnberry, and he said he had no idea why you gave his name to me. Said he hardly knew you guys.”

  “That’s a bunch of bull. We knew him from school.”

  “But you and Phil didn’t see him much these days, right?”

  “Here and there. He’s been arrested a bunch of times, went to jail. I thought it was someone you should check out, that’s all. I’m just trying to help.”

  “Okay, Mr. Stewart. We’ll look into what you’ve told us.”

  Chapter 10

  Luca

  The more I talked with Stewart the more uneasy I became. Something was off with him. I couldn’t put my finger on it and had chalked it up to him being a kinda oddball, but now he comes to me about some long-term relationship with an island girl Phil had a kid with? And after the goose chase with Turnberry?

  He should’ve spilled the beans on day one. This was important. Another sharp pain hit my abdomen, almost taking my breath away. This was going on too long. I needed to have a doctor check it out. As it subsided I started to think maybe Stewart was just protecting his buddy and didn’t want Robin to know. Stewart was certainly protective of her, a little too much, if you asked me.

  Man, what an embarrassment it would be if all this time Phil was sitting on a beach with his island family while Robin was organizing search parties. It’d be the top news story for weeks.

  I missed not being able to kick this case around with my old partner, J. J. Cremora. We’d bounce more things off each other than a racquetball court. He was a good cop and kept me from being anal, most of the time. I still couldn’t believe he was gone. Losing him was the toughest thing I’ve gone through. The divorce was nothing compared to him dying. Only consolation was his passing got me down to Naples.

  We’d been through so much together, I swear if it wasn’t for him I’d never have bounced back from the Barrow case. A picture of the kid hanging from the pipes in his cell rushed back into my head.

  I stood up. The sun was shining through the windows, but the room was closing in on me. I headed to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. No matter how many times I told my reflection to shake the blue feeling, it didn’t work. I needed a dose of Southwest Florida’s elixir, and since it was almost lunch time, I headed straight for the Turtle Club to get it.

  It wa
sn’t quite noon, but the restaurant’s beach deck was nearly full. I snagged a table and was mesmerized by the placid gulf until a woman in a cover-up was shown to the table next to me. She was a knockout, and I said, “Beautiful day.”

  She smiled. “It’s been nice the whole week.”

  “I know what you mean. We don’t even need a weather channel down here.”

  “You live here?”

  “Yep, I’m stuck in paradise.”

  “It must be nice.”

  I nodded. “Where you from?”

  Her name was Kayla and she was in from Chicago to attend a marketing workshop. As far as I was concerned she didn’t need any help selling; I’d buy anything she was hawking. The workshop had ended and this gem was enjoying a few days of vacation she’d tacked onto the trip.

  She said, “This is my first time at the Turtle Club. I tried to come yesterday but it was packed.”

  “What do you say we help them out? I can move over to your table and open up a table for some lucky souls.”

  She agreed and I smiled at the thought that my buddy JJ had come through for me again.

  ***

  Back from lunch, I logged onto the international portal and filled out two requests with Interpol, one for each of this island girl’s possible last names. It usually took three to four days for a response to come in from the Europeans, but who knew how long or even if they followed things up in the Caribbean?

  Calling American Airlines headquarters in Fort Worth, I was greeted by a voice-mail maze. By the third menu I was lost and had to call back.

  The woman in human resources was nice enough but said that the airline considered employee files to be confidential. I explained it was a police matter and only wanted to know if a certain person worked for them and how to contact her.

  She put me on hold for a minute before telling me I had to put the request in writing. Asking how long it would take after they received my request, I got some corporate mumbo jumbo about clearing it through their legal and human resources departments.

  I pumped out the request and started thinking about the date I’d made with Kayla when my phone rang, delivering an unexpected nugget that complicated the Phil Gabelli case.

  Chapter 11

  Stewart

  “The gem cannot be polished without friction nor man without trials.” - Confucius

  Three days after I had told Luca about Phil’s old Caribbean cutie, the detective called and asked me to come to his office. I was sure he’d found someone that would fit my island girl and picked out a nice pair of white slacks for the occasion. Excited but dreading the drive through traffic to get to the municipal complex, I ran the electric shaver over my face and changed my shirt before hopping in the car.

  I pulled off Tamiami Trail and into a space in the garage. It wasn’t hot, and the humidity was low, but my shirt was darkening as I emptied my pockets for the security check.

  Luca came out before I could read a page of Men’s Health. He wasn’t friendly, and my guard was even higher as he showed me into his cramped office. Luca’s desk and credenza were piled with files, but there wasn’t a picture of any family or friends.

  “Have a seat. You want something to drink?”

  That was better.

  “Nah, I’m okay, thanks. What did you want to see me about? You have a lead on Phil?”

  “No, but when we do it’ll be Robin who’ll be informed.”

  Robin. Like they were old friends. I had a feeling from the get-go this slickster would try to make a move on her. I wondered what she thought of him. Of all the detectives in the world I had to get the one who looked like George Clooney. No doubt, he was frigging handsome. I’d just have to confront Robin and ask her what she thought of him.

  Luca leaned forward and said, “How come you never told me you and Mrs. Gabelli had an affair?”

  Whoa. Who the hell told him that? Couldn’t have been Robin? No way. My chest was tightening when I said, “It’s got nothing to do with anything.”

  “In my book, it certainly does.”

  “How’d you find out?”

  “Never mind the how. I want to know what that was all about.”

  I dug out my inhaler.

  “It’s none of your business. Shit, you go around probing into people’s private lives? That’s bullshit, you ask me.”

  “Noted. Now, your friend is missing, and you were sleeping with his wife. Sounds pretty coincidental, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “So, what now, I’m a suspect?”

  “We look at everyone, especially those close to him. Your, shall we say, relationship with his wife is an interesting element.”

  “Well, I had nothing to do with what happened to Phil.”

  Luca leaned back. “Just what happened to him?”

  “I don’t know. He went missing, that’s all.”

  Luca grimaced and rubbed his side. “You sure of that?”

  What the hell did he mean by that?

  “Look, I told you, Phil liked going around screwing every tail he could get his hands on. He’s probably getting laid right now.”

  Luca leaned back and put his foot on a corner of his desk.

  “You want to know something else interesting?”

  I didn’t like the sound of that so I just shrugged.

  “Seems you told Robin to leave Phil. Is that true?”

  How the hell did he know that? I mean, Robin, for God’s sake, what are you doing here?

  “Look, like I told you, Phil was always cheating on Robin. It was an abusive relationship. She was being made out to be a damn fool for Chrissake!”

  “You a marriage counselor now?”

  “Hey, me and Robin are good friends.”

  “Friends? I’d say it was a lot more than that.”

  “What are you getting at? You got something on me more than an old affair?”

  Luca cocked his head and smiled. He was one smug bastard.

  I said, “Don’t forget, Mr. Detective, that this was a couple of years ago.”

  Luca suddenly grabbed his stomach and gritted his teeth. Then he doubled over for a second. He didn’t look like he was feeling too good, so I stood.

  “If you don’t have anything else, I’m going.”

  Chapter 12

  Luca

  The pain lasted longer than usual. I shouldn’t have let Stewart leave, but it felt like it was never going to go away. Stewart was a snake. He was screwing his best friend’s wife. How damn low can you go?

  At least he didn’t compound it by lying. Boy, I would have loved to have nailed him on that. Stewart should have said something to us about the affair. For that matter, Robin should have too. People think they can keep these dark secrets between themselves, but if you ask me, the only way two people can keep a secret is when one of them is dead.

  The affair was a potential bombshell. It opened up all kinds of possibilities. Stewart could’ve done away with his buddy to get another chance with Robin, or both of them could be playing star roles in a conspiracy to do in Phil. Even Robin, though I couldn’t see it, could’ve done it alone. Everything was open now that I knew she wasn’t the faithful wife she painted herself to be.

  I made a mental note to check if there were any insurance policies that Robin could benefit from as I headed for the bathroom.

  A touch of red in my urine alarmed me. No more waiting; if I couldn’t get an appointment with my doctor for tomorrow, I’d go to the walk-in place on Vanderbilt. I gave a passing thought to heading over to the urgent care clinic right then, but I didn’t want anything to stand in the way of the date I had with Kayla.

  Though I totally missed my old partner JJ, working alone seemed to suit me most times. But with a case that seemed to grow hair every day, I looked forward to Mary Ann coming back from vacation. She was my first female partner, and though she gave me a hard time every now and then and was into astrology, she was as good as they come. Pl
us, there was something about her I couldn’t put my finger on. Sometimes she just looked sugar sweet and other times as plain as white bread. Either way, I was staying away, or at least hoped I would.

  Tomorrow we’d divvy up the chores. I’d follow up on the affair with Robin and dig deeper into Stewart, maybe even pay a visit to his workplace. Meanwhile, Mary Ann would hunt down the bookie Phil had been indebted to and find out what she could about Robin and Phil’s finances.

  My cell sounded off a reminder I was due in court at two o’clock. Thank God for the reminder. I had forgotten about having to testify in a car theft ring case. An offshoot of the Russian mob had settled in Miami and had profited from a pretty clever scheme. The Russians partnered with a group of Haitian criminals in Collier County who would steal specific high-end cars requested by the Russians.

  Naples had a ton of rich cats with expensive cars they hardly drove. Many of the owners were away for weeks at a time, and the Russians had a ton of intelligence on the who, when, and where. The Haitians would grab the cars and run them over to Miami in trailers marked with the FedEx brand.

  Once they arrived, the Russians would load them into containers and ship them to Eastern Europe. Most of the cars were out of the country before they were reported stolen. It was a perfect scheme until they got greedy and started to grab cars whose owners knew they’d gone missing and reported them stolen.

  The Russians used duplicate vehicle identity numbers to get the hot cars through export control, mirroring the same scheme they used with selling actual social security numbers to illegals. It was such a simple idea in a world so complicated that it flew under the radar for way too long.

  I smiled heading to court, thinking all good things gotta come to an end.

  ***

  Relief spilled over when I saw Kayla waiting at Baleen. She looked as good, no, make that better, than the first time I saw her. I’d upgraded quite a few ladies over the years, always induced by the haze of alcohol, but this gal was the real deal. Kayla was dressed to kill. Boy, was I glad I had showered and changed.

 

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