Crimes on Latimer: From the Early Cases of Marco Fontana

by DeMarco, Joseph R. G.

  “Still interested in doing some work on the case?”

  “How can I help?” Luke asked.

  “Think you can do a little background research on Haldane, his sons, his daughter and her fiancé Tom Brooks? Anything you can get that tells me more than the basics.”

  “Piece of cake. I’ll give you the results when you come in to interview my guys.”

  After giving him the details on the family, including Tom, I told Luke I’d call him in the morning.

  Finding someone to help run through and possibly restore the contents of the security recorder was a high priority item on my list. Several calls later, I’d found someone to deal with the system’s contents and arranged for him to pick up the recorder’s hard drive. According to the tech, the job might take longer than Haldane was willing to wait, so I hoped other things would pan out first. Like somebody, knowing the security video was sitting in my office, a glittering gem waiting to be plucked, coming in to pluck it. Maybe somebody would take the bait.

  I stood and stretched then poured some coffee. Though the aroma was perfect, I’d never learned the secret to making coffee that tasted halfway good. The sludge I swirled in my cup would have to do until I found someone who could do better.

  At first I wasn’t sure if it was the caffeine tweaking my senses or if I’d really heard the stairs creaking with the weight of someone trudging up to the third floor. Just in case, I sat back down behind my desk and faced the door to my office. My gun was in the top drawer and easily accessible. Unannounced visitors sometimes came with lucrative cases, sometimes with more trouble than I needed.

  The complaining squeaks from the stairs got louder as whoever it was reached the third floor. The door to the reception area was closed and all I could see through the frosted glass was a blurry figure moving in the hall.

  I expected the knock at the door, but when it came I still felt a tingle at the back of my neck. A second later, whoever it was knocked again.

  “C’mon in. Door’s unlocked.” Just in case, I slid open the drawer and placed my hand on the gun.

  The door opened slowly and when I saw him, I realized I’d been holding my breath.

  “Cullen.” I breathed his name and all the memories of my high school years came galloping back. All the feelings of that adolescent crush I’d had on this man gripped me again, and I knew I hadn’t gotten over it. Might never get over it.

  Cullen stood in the doorway staring at me. Tall, blond, and wearing the same fresh-faced look I remembered so well from our St. T days. He hadn’t changed at all, at least not to my eyes. He was as beautiful as I remembered him.

  “Marco? It’s really you! Dad said you’d been to his place but I didn’t believe him. I thought it had to be someone with the same name.” He moved into the room, like a boat on smooth water. Not a hair out of place, not a blemish on his skin, not a thing wrong. The smile spreading across his face was at first uncertain, as if unsure of the reception he’d get. “But it is you. It’s really you. It’s been too long, Marco.”

  “You can say that again.” I stood and moved from behind my desk to greet him. We grasped each other’s hands with the force of shared memories. I knew I was smiling like a kid, but I didn’t care. I was glad to see him and more than glad.

  “You’re a private eye. I can’t say I’m surprised. I knew you’d get into something like this.” He looked around the office, and I knew he was appraising everything. Not that money meant much to Cullen. He had plenty of it and never acted as if he did, but when you’re used to finer things, you look at everything with a certain critical discernment.

  I didn’t feel as if he were judging me, but I knew that my shabby office was not what he expected.

  “I’m good at it and, even better, I’m happy,” I said, holding onto his hand, soaking up the warmth and the memories he’d brought back to life. “What about you, Cullen?”

  “A long story which I’m sure you don’t want to hear,” he said with an almost shy tone in his deep voice.

  “The hell I don’t.” I let go his hand and gestured for him to sit. “I want to hear everything. Like you said, it’s been too long.”

  “Once you put this case away, I promise, we’ll have drinks and catch up.” Cullen made it sound sincere, but I could tell he was here for other reasons. A reunion wasn’t on his schedule.

  “So, what can I tell you?”

  “Dad’s more upset about this theft than he lets on,” Cullen said as he got comfortable in the chair, crossed one leg over the other, and kept both arms on the armrests.

  “Believe it or not, I could tell. I like your father, Cullen. I want to help him on this. But I also believe him when he says he doesn’t want to see an injustice done.”

  “Neither do I. You know me, Marco.” His startlingly blue eyes held a depth and a passion that I remembered well. I’d often thought that he could have anything or anyone he wanted, with just one look.

  “I do, and I know you wouldn’t want an innocent kid to get put away for this,” I said. “Besides, if the police go after the wrong person, then whoever really stole that sketch will have even more time to unload it. Your father might never see it again.”

  “It’s not the sketch so much as it is my mother. His memories of her are partly wrapped up in that piece. He may not show it, but he’s broken hearted about it being gone. I’ve come into his place and found him in the den staring at the wall where the sketch had been.” Cullen’s voice choked and he looked away.

  “I understand.”

  “Dad tells me you’ve taken the security video. You really think you’ll find anything on that?” His voice had taken on a different tone. Curiosity? Or was it something else?

  “I can’t say. But I have somebody who’s gonna work on it, and then maybe we’ll have some different information.”

  “You actually suspect someone in the apartment took the sketch?” Cullen stared at me.

  “Truthfully, I don’t know what to think.” I shifted uncomfortably. I had to ask questions the implications of which he might not like. I didn’t want to chance aborting this reunion before it even got started. But I had an obligation to my client and to Mikey to see this thing through. If it meant I’d miss an opportunity to reconnect with Cullen, then that’s what it would mean.

  “Who’d have a motive? Everyone in that house or who comes through has money and plenty of it.”

  “No one ever has enough. At least that’s the way I see things,” I said. “I’ve gotta ask you something, Cullen.”

  “Shoot.” He seemed to relax into an old familiar mode. He looked more and more like the boy I’d known in high school.

  “Well, the thing is, I don’t wanna ask but…” I paused and thought about what I wanted to say. “In the interests of being complete. Purely so that I can say no stone went unturned—”

  “You wanna know if I had anything to do with this?”

  I nodded. “Were you in the den around the time of the theft? Did you have any—”

  “You bastard!” Cullen smiled as he said this then broke into laughter. “You haven’t changed a bit. You’d suspect your own mother if you had to. You never trusted anyone at St. T’s. ”

  “True. Things haven’t changed all that much. So, you gonna tell me? Were you in the den around the time of the theft?”

  “I get to dad’s condo just about every day. I like looking in on him and since that whole mess with…” he stopped and swiped a hand over his face. “Let’s just say that things haven’t been going well in other parts of my life and I spend lots more time at dad’s. Probably lots more than is healthy for my social life.” He laughed, embarrassed.

  “You haven’t changed much either. When we were at St. T’s, you could never answer a question straight out. Still can’t, I guess.”

  “Point is, I don’t remember if I was in the den or not. I might’ve been. I’m always at the apartment. It’s impossible to remember if I was in the den, much less when.”

  “
Think about it and get back to me. You might’ve seen something that can help.” I wanted to believe Cullen, but something about his evasive answers warned me not to allow an old crush to keep me from seeing the truth.

  “How long is your guy gonna take to look at that security video?” Cullen’s gaze swept the room as if he were looking for something.

  “He didn’t say. But I told him I needed results quick. I know you father needs this as soon as possible. He’s willing to wait, but I’m not willing to make him wait long.”

  “You always were a nice guy,” Cullen said, pinning me to my chair with his ice-blue eyes. “I have access to a tech lab that could crank this out in a few hours. I could take the box and have it back tomorrow.”

  “Cullen, I’m surprised.”

  “Why? Didn’t I always watch out for you in high school? When you were a runt of a freshman, I was there. Just because you’re big and built now doesn’t mean I can’t still help.”

  “I’m surprised because I thought you went to law school.”

  “You’re right. Yale. What’re you getting at?”

  “You take that box and it suddenly becomes contaminated evidence. You’re not exactly a disinterested bystander. Who’d trust the results of work done by friends of yours?”

  “I’m not a thief, either. I resent your implication, Marco. You’ve become a real hard-ass since we were in school.”

  “You understand my position, right?” I’d probably just ruined any chance I might’ve had to renew our friendship. Maybe that was for the best. I couldn’t go through life pining after a straight man. “I know you’re smart, Cullen, and I hope you don’t think I’m stupid or naïve.”

  “I never thought you were stupid, Marco. Just the opposite. In fact, I’ve always admired you.”

  “Nice to know, Cullen.” I smiled, even though I knew he only half meant what he’d said. We’d been good friends at St. T’s, but that all ended when we graduated. There was no fight or big blow up. We just went our separate ways, and since Cullen belongs to a wealthier tribe than I’m from, the ways we went were different enough to keep us from even bumping into one another on occasion.

  “Yeah, I know that didn’t sound sincere, but I meant it. And I really was just trying to help.”

  “I know, Cullen,” I said. “It’s been a long day. I want to do the right thing by your father and for Mikey, too. The kid’s had a rough life and I don’t want to slip up and make it worse for him.”

  Before he could say anything, the phone rang. Without a secretary to run interference, I had to answer. I shrugged and held up a finger indicating Cullen should wait a moment.

  “Fontana,” I said into the phone.

  “Marco. Marco, I think I may need your help,” Luke said, not sounding at all like his usual balanced self.

  “What’s happening? What do you need, Luke?” I glanced at Cullen.

  “It’s Ramon. He came into the office for something and when I told him you needed to interview him, he threw a fit. He ran around the office shouting incomprehensibly. Then he locked himself in the bathroom. He won’t come out.”

  “You think I can talk him out?”

  “I don’t know, but he won’t even speak to me now.”

  “Does he have, I mean, will you be safe until I get there?”

  “He’s not dangerous. At least I don’t think so. But I’ll lock the door and wait outside the office just in case.”

  I hung up and turned to Cullen.

  “Gotta go, Cullen.”

  “Need some help?”

  “I think I’ve got this. But when the case is closed, I’ll be expecting a call so we can catch up.”

  “You’ve got a deal. Unless you put me behind bars.” Cullen winked. “I’ll let you get to work.”

  He stood and gave me a look which was a blend of sad and happy. I didn’t understand, and it tugged at me. I had this feeling that he wanted to say more. I felt I needed to keep him close and talk with him, but I didn’t know what to say or how to say it. Instead, I was rushing out the door, leaving behind the best chance I had of getting close to Cullen again.

  “Be seein’ you, Cullen. Behind bars or not.” I laughed, but he didn’t.

  Instead he, gave me a small, almost shy, wave of the hand and left.

  ***

  For the second time that day I found myself in an elevator in Luke’s office building. There were a fair number of people in the halls after normal business hours.

  Luke stood leaning back against the door of his office, arms folded across his chest, a stern expression on his face. The light from his office filtered through the frosted glass of the door to combine with the soft, warm incandescent light bouncing off the marble walls of the hall.

  When he saw me, his face lit up.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “Sorry I had to bother you, but I thought you might be able to calm Ramon down. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure, since it was your name that made him panic.”

  “Let me see what I can do. I know Ramon’s cousin Luis. I can always call him in, if necessary.”

  Luke unlocked the office door and swung it open. Once in, he pointed to the bathroom door.

  Even though Luke had said Ramon wasn’t dangerous, I approached cautiously and from the side. Being a target in a doorway wasn’t what I had in mind for the evening.

  Standing next to the door, I took a moment to think.

  “Ramon,” I said keeping my voice low and calm.

  No answer.

  “Ramon, it’s Marco Fontana. What’s goin’ on, Ramon? Luke says you don’t wanna talk to me. Is that right?” I paused and waited to see if he’d respond. “Ramon? Everything all right in there? Can you hear me?” I looked over at Luke and he shrugged.

  “He must be scared out of his mind.”

  “You sure he’s all right? I mean, he isn’t…” I allowed the thought to float on the air. For all I knew the kid might’ve hurt himself and needed help.

  “Ramon isn’t like that,” Luke said and closed his eyes. “He can be sensitive and high strung, but he’s pretty solid. He wouldn’t hurt himself…. At least, I don’t think so.”

  “Well, if he isn’t hurt, something’s up in that bathroom. Maybe he passed out or hyperventilated?”

  “Could be. He was hysterical. Ranting about breaking rules and not wanting to lose his job. He didn’t threaten to hurt himself.” Luke shot me a worried look. “Although, he did say he’d never leave the bathroom again, if I forced him to talk to you. You don’t think he… did… anything, do you?”

  “Is there another way out of that room?” It was either find another way in or break down the door.

  “No windows and no other way out, or in, that I can think of.”

  “Ramon?” I shouted. I figured I wouldn’t be frightening him any more than he already was. Assuming he was conscious.

  There was no answer.

  I placed an ear to the door and listened for a moment. Other than a sound like flowing air, there was nothing to hear. No whimpering, no sniffling, no nothing.

  “I hate to have to do this, Luke, but I’m gonna have to force my way in. That okay with you?”

  “Sure. He could be hurt or passed out,” Luke said. “Need help?”

  “Lemme give it a try first.”

  I put my shoulder to the door and shoved. The door balked and bounced me backward. I shoved against it again with increasing force. And again with little result. In the event Ramon was splayed out on the floor, I didn’t want the door to whack him when it opened.

  Eventually there was a little give, but the relatively gentle force I’d been applying wasn’t enough. I had to hit harder.

  “Here goes nothing,” I said to Luke. Then I brought my foot up and placed a good kick just below the knob.

  Wood cracked and rattled, but something held the door in place.

  “Ramon! Get your ass out here.” I was through coddling him.

  No response.

  I
positioned myself for another kick and just as I was about to haul off, the door eased open.

  Ramon, short, slender with dark hair and wide brown eyes, stood a moment, framed in the doorway.

  “I didn’t do nothing wrong,” he gurgled, then collapsed in a heap.

  “He fainted,” Luke said. “It’s not the first time. Ramon is a drama queen. Big time.”

  “You think?” I couldn’t suppress a smile.

  Luke and I knelt to help him.

  I patted his cheek and brushed his hair out of his face.

  “Help me get him to the sofa,” Luke said, grabbing Ramon under one arm and waiting for me to mirror his action.

  We maneuvered him to the leather sofa and I made him comfortable.

  “I’ll get some water,” Luke said as he walked into another room.

  “Ramon.” I gave his cheek a gentle pat.

  “No, no. Not now papi,” he murmured. He squirmed a little before becoming still and quiet.

  “Any better?” Luke asked as he returned with a bottle of water and a wet towel. He bent over Ramon and placed the towel on his forehead.

  Ramon’s eyes fluttered open and he brought one hand up to his face. When he saw me, his eyes widened and he tried sitting up. “No, please. I didn’t—”

  “Don’t’ try to sit up, Ramon,” Luke said. “Take it easy for a minute.

  “But… h-he’s here. He’s gonna get me in trouble.”

  “I’m not here to make trouble for you, Ramon,” I said. “I only wanna talk. You want to help Mikey, don’t you”

  “S-sure, but I didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”

  “Nobody claims you did,” Luke said. “We need your help, though. If you know anything, or if you saw anything…” He let the suggestion drift in the air.

  “I didn’t see nothin’ at all.” Ramon, lifted his head again but obviously felt dizzy and lay back down.

  “Luis seems to think you know something.” I said. “So it’s kinda funny that you say you know nothing.”

  “It’s true,” Ramon pleaded. “You gotta believe me.”

  “No, I don’t ‘gotta believe’ you, Ramon. But I do believe Luis. He’s always been straight up with me. He says you know something, you know something.”