Casey's Slip

by Richard L. Wren

  “There was a long pause, during which he stared at me. Then,”

  “I’m going to assume you’re correct and that insignificant piece of paper’s never been used for blackmail purposes, so it’s just a scrap of paper. In that case, I’d say you could destroy the hell out of that piece of paper.”

  “He got the message,” Smitty said with a satisfied wink.

  Smitty continued, “I followed with, ‘Chief, can I cut to the chase? if we promise that we can get rid of Carpenter once and for all – if we can get him off my back and everybody else’s and bemostly legal doing it, could you help us?’

  But he wasn’t sold yet. He hadn’t seen any papers, he pointed out, just a lot of talk. I felt it was time to show him a copy of the original papers Carpenter had on him.

  “He recognized it, a page from an accounting book. He’d used some money from the wrong source. It was an insignificant amount and he’d later made it right. But it could be blown up and made to look bad.”

  He said, “I don’t know.”

  I said, “First, the evidence we found about you is peanuts. We can make it go away real easy. Then I took a chance and told him how we’d gotten the evidence.”

  He blanched and said, “I can’t be a party to that.”

  “I reminded him that we’d done that long before I came in to meet with him. I also pointed out the obvious, that Carpenter wasn’t gonna say anything to anyone. The last thing he wanted was police attention. I told him we had evidence that Carpenter was growing pot in his basement.”

  “The Chief wasn’t sure. He told me that if he had probable cause to search the house and there was pot growing in his basement, he could nail him on that alone but basing the raid on our evidence alone, he thought it violated all police protocol.”

  “I told him we’d thought about that too. How about if you appoint a couple of us to your Grand Jury, don’t they make investigations and stuff?”

  “He shot that down in a hurry. It turns out you have to be an El Cerrito resident to be on the Grand Jury.

  However he did say ‘But maybe if I took my suspicions to the Grand Jury, they couldhire you. I’ll need to think about that.’

  When I told him about our prisoners, he balked again. I told him that I was sure these guys were all ex-cons, judging by their tattoos and the way they talked. I told him we’d made a citizens’ arrest on them and we were holding them for him.

  “The chief’s a real guy. I like him and he’s smart. He’s down to earth and practical. I usually don’t have much respect for cops, but this guy’s different. I think you guys’d like him. More than that, I think we can work with him.”

  He continued. “Okay, I told the chief, let’s see if I’m right about these guys being ex-cons and I gave him the three names.

  He glanced at the names, called in his desk clerk and said, ‘run ‘em’.

  In a short time he was back, and my suspicions were confirmed.

  All three guys from Carpenter’s house had records. All three of them can be arrested on sight as parole violators. Then when I added that one of them had a gun on him, he was sold. I asked him if there was some way we could get our prisoners into his cells. He said he’d need some reason to pick them up; He couldn’t do it just on my word. I asked him if a local business owner said he’d been threatened by one of the three, would that do?”

  Smitty was on his feet now, warming up to the retelling.

  “So the chief says, ‘Is that true?’ Sure, I tell him and explained how our garbage truck driver had been threatened by the guy, with a gun. We’ll handle the driver and his boss if you’ll handle the rest, I told him. I also said that we could deliver the three of them any time he wants them.

  I’ll need a formal complaint replied the chief.

  A couple of the guys spoke up, all with variations on the same question, the one that kept surfacing like a hungry goldfish.

  “Do you really think we can trust a police chief?”

  Smitty’s answer was, “Absolutely. First I think I’m a pretty good judge of character. I spent most of last night with him to the wee hours and I mean it when I say I like him. Yeah, I trust him. Secondly – and more importantly, he needs us. He wants out from under Carpenter. He told me he feels so bad about Carpenter he’s even considered quitting his job. Yeah, we can trust him.”

  He turned to Josie and me and told us to get busy. “Write down every idea we’ve talked about, and dream up some new ones. I’m seeing him again this afternoon, so we need to get going. Get back to me by ten.”

  Actually, the minute Smitty had mentioned last night that he was meeting with the chief, Josie and I had started thinking about just that. I didn’t tell Smitty, but the only ideas we had were ones we’d come up with ourselves. No one else had volunteered any thing at all.

  One idea we had was to let the El Cerrito building inspector know about the obvious code violations we’d seen when we were there. Now that the police chief was on our side, maybe that could be done. Another idea we had was to get the blackmailing information into the hands of a friendly reporter. Maybe these ideas plus a couple more we were still working on might distract Carpenter from us, or make him move out of his headquarters for a while.

  At ten we reported back to Smitty. He liked the inspector and the reporter ideas and said he’d take them to the chief in the afternoon.

  Out of the blue Smitty said, “Casey, you look like hell. How long have you been wearing those clothes?”

  “Well,” I allowed, “it’s been several days now. I’ve been able to wash my shorts and socks in the sink and I’ve been putting my pants under the mattress at night to press them a little. Why?”

  “Yeah? Well, it ain’t working so well. You need to get some fresh things. And speaking of fresh, don’t think I haven’t noticed you nosing around my Josie either! Volunteering to help with dishes after each meal is pretty obvious, don’t you think?”

  I was flabbergasted, to say the least. Did this guy have eyes in the back of his head?

  I happen to know for a fact that when I volunteered to dry the dishes, he was down in the garage. Some of the other times he wasn’t even in the house.

  Then he said something that took the sting out of his previous remark. Turning to Josie he asked her if she thought she could handle one of the big bikes in the garage.

  “If you can, take Casey by his place and let him pick up some more clothes.”

  She said, “Sure. Maybe I’ll swing by my place and pick up some things for me, too.”

  “I may need your car,” Smitty said. “That’s why I want you to take a bike. Use mine. There’s a pair of big saddle bags on the wall, take them too.”

  Sounded like fun to me. I immediately remembered how I’d had to wrap my arms around Smitty and Red, and was more than looking forward to the same experience with Josie. He told her to make sure I was helmeted and had a good jacket for safety.

  “Dad, for heavens sake, don’t you think I knowanything?” Josie said in the voice of a sassy sixteen-year-old. “I’ll take care of it!”

  CHAPTER 34

  Josie looked awfully small on her dad’s bike. She told me that his bike was called the “big Mama,” ‘cause of the big comfortable rear seat.

  We had trouble finding a jacket to fit me. Most were too big. The smallest one we found was still large, but would have to do. I wondered what my landlady would think when she saw me for the first time in several days, wearing a leather jacket featuring a bright yellow hog with a black top hat, sporting a red pitchfork clutched in its hooves. Maybe she wouldn’t be home.

  Josie wheeled the bike out to the driveway and told me to mount up behind her. I climbed on and wrapped my arms around her waist. She told me to hold her tight. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Smitty keeping his eyes on us. Trying to not look too eager, I did as she directed but somewhat delicately to satisfy her dad.

  It was immediately obvious that even with all the padding, Josie was wonderful to hug. I wa
sn’t sure what to do with my head. She told me to kind of hook my chin on her shoulder so we could talk on the way.

  Once out of the driveway and away from her dad’s watchful eyes, my imagination began to kick in. The position we were in, me tucked in close behind her, made me think of being spooned together in bed with her. Very erotic. I tried to put that thought out of my mind and concentrate on our trip.

  Yanking my attention back to the present, I had to admire how proficient she was. We weren’t breaking any speed laws, but we were definitely traveling at a fast clip. Weaving in and out of traffic, she seldom had to slow down. She never missed a signal light, somehow speeding up just enough to slide through.

  I gradually realized one of the reasons she was so successful was that she didn’t consider herself limited by lanes. We slid between, around and beside cars. I thought she was gonna scrape my knees off on some we barely squeezed by.

  She must have been told where I lived. Never asked me for directions, just wheeled up to my digs and said, “What now?” I asked her if she wanted to come up for a sec.

  “Why not?”

  I gathered up a few personal things. A couple of pairs of pants, a few shirts and some underwear together with a toothbrush and I was all set. Actually I threw in some deodorant was an afterthought. You know, a pretty girl? I wrapped the deodorant in a pair of sox so Josie wouldn’t notice. It only took a few seconds; I had everything and was ready to leave when my landlady knocked on the door.

  “Casey, do you have a girl in there?”

  I may not have mentioned that my landlady was quite elderly, and generally not too nosy. Real good qualities for a landlady to have. However, she was very old-fashioned about morals. I think she would have insisted I entertain any girlfriends I had in her parlor. Ideally with her sitting in the corner in her rocking chair, knitting. I wasn’t surprised by her question.

  Josie looked at me and giggled.

  “Oh, hi, Mrs. Perkins. We were just coming down to see you. My employer’s daughter gave me a ride over to pick up some clothes.”

  She invited us in for tea and I had to disappoint her again.

  We picked up my clothes from the cleaners and headed for Josie’s place. My place was right near Lake Merritt. Hers wasn’t.

  “Wow, is this yours? How big is it? What – three, four bedrooms?”

  “Slow down, one question at a time!” Josie laughed. “Yeah it’s mine, lock stock and barrel. Thanks to my ex. I had a good lawyer, and Dad helped. You’re right – three bedrooms. Two baths. Plus it has a two-car garage and a rumpus room. You want to see it?”

  Her place was neat as a pin. It looked very comfortable, downright pleasant. A place that’d been lived in by someone who knew how to make a house a home. Smelled good too. I asked her if she took care of the place all by herself. She said she did.

  “I’m going up to grab some things,” she told me as she headed for the stairs. “Get yourself a Coke or something. I’ll be down in a minute.” I wandered through the kitchen and breakfast room to what must have been a guest bedroom. It reminded me of my parents’ house, up near the Oregon border, spacious and comfy. Once again my imagination soared. A pretty girl, huggable, owns her own home, good cook – what more could a guy ask?

  I grabbed a Coke from the kitchen and relaxed on the living room sofa. Josie proved what I’ve always suspected, that a woman’s minute is much longer than a man’s. She finally came down about fifteen minutes later. She looked great. I suspect she may have taken time to do make-up or something.

  “I guess we better get going,” I said. “Your dad’s waiting.”

  “Oh, pooh! He’s always in a rush. I don’t let him have his way all the time. Sit back and relax,” Josie said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

  “Sometimes I deliberately dawdle just to annoy him. I’m going to have a Coke and maybe even some cookies before we head back. Besides, I want to know about your family. How come you quit college? You going back? How close are you to your parents? Do you see them often?”

  “Whoa,” I responded, “that’s enough. How’d you put it? One question at a time? Not in order but here goes. My parents live near the Oregon border. They’re both retired. I see them every couple of months or so. As for college, I ran out of money. My plan was to earn enough to go back, but it hasn’t worked out so far.”

  “How come sailing? Did you grow up near the ocean, or was your dad a sailor?”

  “No and no. I grew up in Kansas. My dad was an accountant for a huge company and got moved around a lot. The company transferred him to California when I was about thirteen. Based on my experience, you’re more likely to be in love with the sea if you grew up in the Midwest than if you grew up on the coast. At least that’s the way it worked for me and most of the people I know. I hung around all the yacht harbors during my teens. The rest is history.”

  We finished our sodas and Josie decided we should head back; she just had to put her leathers back on over the tight jeans she’d changed into. I counted my visual blessings.

  In a short time we had the house locked up and were headed back towards what I was actually coming to think of and refer to as “home.”

  CHAPTER 35

  “It’s about time you got here,” was Smitty’s greeting as we coasted into the garage. “I had a great meeting with the chief this afternoon and do we got plans! But first I want to set out the rules for everyone, including you two. Everybody grab a seat.”

  I had no idea what this was about and, looking around, I don’t think anyone else did either.

  “We got a new partner. A police chief. Means we have to really toe the line. When I said no violence before I mean it even more now, in spades!”

  He looked around the room again, this time looking hard at each of us before moving on to the next. Some of the guys squirmed a bit. Only when he was satisfied that he’d made his point did he continue.

  “Okay. Repeating rule number one. There will be no violence started by us.”

  “Wait one fuckin’ minute, Smitty,” someone said from the back of the room. You might not tell it from his choice of words, but he did deliver this interruption with respect. “You made that rule before they shot Red. We gonna letthatgo by?”

  “No, Hap, we don’t let that go by. What we’re going to do is, with the chief’s help, let thelaw take care of him.” This was met with silence, then a smatter of rumblings.

  “Look, think about it, guys,” Smitty said quietly. “Most of you are married. For some years now, we’ve been trying to tone down our image for the good of our families. We’ve volunteered for the police athletic league, helped in searches – a whole bunch of things. Because of that, our wives have been active in all kinds of social stuff and our kids are better off for it too. We don’t want to mess with that, do we? Don’t worry – we’ll get even, all right. Justnot with violence.”

  “As for Carpenter and his gang and the violencethey’ve pulled so far or what he might do next, I’m not saying we’re gonna be shrinking violets. We’ll take care of them, but we won’t start any violence. With all the street smarts we’ve accumulated over the years, I’m betting we can out-smart him.”

  “Rule number two’s one you’ll find real easy. I’m the boss.” Laughter and boos. “I mean it. I’m taking charge of the whole thing. Nobody does nothin’ without telling me about it! Anybody have a problem with that?”

  He paused, waiting for any dissent. There was none.

  “Okay then. Tomorrow I’m meeting with the chief again. You’ll go through the papers once more. Work with Casey and Josie. The chief agrees there must be someone above Carpenter. See if there’s any reference to anyone else above Carpenter. Someone who provides him with the information he’s using.”

  That immediately rang a bell with me. I flashed on some of the really bad stuff that Josie and I had seen. Most of it contained a common thread –Sacramento politicians and that senator. We’d have to find those files again.

  Josie and
I headed back to our files, planning as we went. Josie came up with a great idea. She had several of the guys and me start going through all the papers looking for anything with a name or title on it. She and Gus then gave those a good scrutiny to see if they recognized any of the names.

  She told us, “Don’t get wrapped up in the stories, all we want are names and titles like senator or mayor or whatever.”

  They immediately start running into more of the stuff we’d spotted before, Carpenter acting like a crooked lobbyist. Lots of names, most with a dollar amount written beside it. Contractors, building inspectors, politicians, even some cities and counties. Gus agreed with my previous ideas what he was doing. He’d blackmail someone to get a project done and then get a kickback. He claimed the kickbacks as lobbying fees. But we couldn’t seem to find a smoking gun from him to anyone else. No records of money transactions other than those lobbying receipts.

  Late in the morning Josie found something. “This is it!” Josie cried. “Boy is this ever it. Look at this!”

  Crawling over to me, she shoved a really fat file in my face. Inside, at the back, were a few handwritten letters paper-clipped together.

  “This is it?”

  “Yep. Read the letters!”

  The letters were old and hard to read. Three of them. Each only a page long, signed, dated and notarized. They weren’t long but they were damning. The first one was a handwritten document from a woman saying that she was a secretary in this particular politician’s office. She gave dates and places where she’d had multiple liaisons with him – a married senator – over a period of about two years. She wrote that the senator had promised to divorce his wife and marry her numerous times. In her own words: “I decided to come forth with this information of my own free will after accidentally discovering that he’d been having affairs with at least two other women over the same period of time. I also discovered that he’d promised marriage to each of them.”

  “Double wow! That’s devastating!”

  “There’s more! Read the other two letters.”