Crimes on Latimer: From the Early Cases of Marco Fontana

by DeMarco, Joseph R. G.

  “You might be helping Mikey,” Luke said.

  “You gonna fire my ass. I know it.” Ramon’s voice quavered. “I’m in between one’a them rocky hard places, you know.” Ramon shrugged.

  “No, but you’re gonna tell us, right?” Luke said, his nice-guy veneer wearing thin.

  “It’s not my fault. You told us never to do things like this. But I couldn’t help it. He wanted me to do it. How was I gonna say no? You tell me.”

  “Who wanted you to do what?” Luke asked.

  “Did someone force you to help him steal that sketch?”

  “No!” Ramon’s eyes widened, making him look like a goldfish flopping around on the couch. “No, nothin’ like that. I would never steal nothin’ from nobody.”

  “Then what?” Luke didn’t disguise the annoyance in his voice.

  “It was that guy. It was his fault. He made me do this,” Ramon said. “I told him it was against the rules. But he told me it was all right. He said his rules were more important.”

  “Who are we talking about here, Ramon?” I said.

  “One’a the guys that lives in the apartment. The young one.”

  “Seamus?” I asked. That had to be who Ramon meant. Only Haldane, Seamus, and Megan actually lived in the apartment. But Ramon could’ve meant Tom. “What’s this guy look like?”

  “He’s young. Got blue eyes, like the sky. Dark hair. Not as dark as mine but dark. And tall. He’s tall.” Ramon closed his eyes as he spoke. Forgetting himself, he smiled and moved his shoulders as if getting comfortable against someone.

  “Has to be Seamus,” I said to Luke. Then I turned to Ramon, “What exactly did he want you to do?”

  Ramon opened his eyes and the panic was back. He edged backward as if trying to melt into the couch and disappear. “Y-you gonna fire my ass, I know it.”

  “Ramon, I promise I won’t fire you. Okay? Unless you committed a crime, I’m not gonna kick you out. Tell us what Seamus wanted.”

  “What they all want,” Ramon snapped. “They want it and then they never call you again after they get it. That’s what he wanted. Sex.”

  “And you…” I led.

  “I went with him in that room. The one with the stolen picture. The pen.”

  “The den,” Luke corrected.

  “Then he tells me to look around at all the art on the walls. Lotta old pictures. I don’t like them much but he says they all worth a fortune.”

  “That’s when he asked you to help him steal one?”

  “No, that’s when he says he’s gonna sell some and then he’s gonna be rich enough to take me away to some place nice. Forever. Just him and me.” Ramon grunted. “Yeah. Someplace nice. The only place nice he went was to my ass.”

  “So he didn’t ask you to steal—”

  “Pendejo! All he wants is my ass. He’s never gonna sell that art. It don’t even belong to him.” Ramon folded his arms across his chest. “And I’m tellin’ you, my ass don’t belong to him neither.”

  “But just that once, you and Seamus…” I hesitated, trying to lead him back to the point.

  “We did it, yeah. Okay, so I’m guilty.”

  “You and Seamus – uh, you did it? In the den?”

  “At least I didn’t steal no picture.”

  “So, you’re afraid that we might see you and Seamus on that security video, am I right?” I asked. “Is that why you panicked?”

  “I knew you was gonna think I stole that picture. If you see me on that video, you’re not gonna think Seamus stole it. You’re gonna think the Puerto Rican kid has fingers that stick.”

  “I know you didn’t take it, Ramon. I want to know what else you may have seen or heard. Something that might help Mikey?”

  “I gotta think. Now I’m all flushed. I can’t think.”

  “Try, Ramon,” I said. “Your cousin Luis said something about Mikey actin’ all strange. At least that’s what he remembers you saying.”

  “Mikey? Actin’ strange?” Ramon closed his eyes again, placed both hands against his head as if he were trying to keep it from splitting apart. “Yeah. Now, I’m rememberin’ things. You got me all combusted. I can’t think straight no more. But, yeah, Mikey was working with us like usual. When he saw Seamus talkin’ to me, he got kinda weird, you know? Like he was afraid or I don’t know.”

  “Did you ask him about it?”

  “Did –? No, I didn’t have no time to ask. The guy, he takes me in the den, and by the time we get out, nobody’s around.”

  “Did you see Mikey again?”

  “Yeah. On the second floor with the crew. He was still actin’ funny. Like he didn’t wanna be there or like he hadda do something but wasn’t happy about it.” Ramon paused to take a breath. “Don’t ask me what. ‘Cause I don’t know.”

  ***

  We pulled as much as we could from Ramon, which wasn’t much at all. Seems he had sex with Seamus and felt guilty and angry about it. Guilty because he’d broken the rules and angry because Seamus hadn’t called him for a rerun. Turns out Ramon hadn’t seen Mikey enter the den. The only people he saw in the condo were the cleaning crew, Seamus, Mr. Haldane, and Tom, who arrived just before the cleaning crew had finished for the day. No mention of Cullen or Megan. Not at the time the cleaning crew was present.

  Luke agreed to get the rest of the cleaning crew to speak with me the next day. By the time we’d finished with Ramon, it was past dinner time.

  The office building was quieter when I left. A security guard on the front desk was the only sign of life in the lobby. My footsteps echoed off the marble walls as I walked to the revolving doors.

  I decided to take Market street back toward my office. There wasn’t much foot traffic and I felt like a dot on the pavement as I moved down the street between the rows of tall buildings.

  City Hall was up ahead, looking gray and surrounded with scaffolding for the restoration project, which looked like it might take a century to finish. I was anxious to see what it would look like once they unwrapped it.

  When I reached Fifteenth Street, I stopped to take a look at the giant clothespin sculpture sticking out of the ground, as high as a three story building. It was a whimsical touch in a city overloaded with grim reality and politicians who only knew how to line their own pockets. As I stared at the clothespin, my cell phone began to ring. I flipped it open without looking at who was calling.

  “Fontana.”

  “Mr. F-Fontana?” Mikey sounded frightened.

  “Mikey? What’s wrong?”

  “I gottta talk to you. Somethin’ happened.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Not on the phone. Can we meet someplace? The Westbury, maybe?”

  “Be there in ten.” I knew I could be there in three minutes. Being able to get to a location first was sometimes the difference between living to tell the story and not. I’d found out the hard way when I started. The P.I. business came with a steep learning curve no matter what other experience I’d had.

  He’d named the meeting place almost too quickly. There could be a lot of reasons for that, one of which was that this was some kind of set-up. Though I couldn’t dismiss that entirely, I didn’t think Mikey would try anything with me. I was practically the only chance he had at staying out of jail. I had to trust my instincts. Another thing I’d learned about the business.

  The Westbury on Thirteenth and Spruce was almost six blocks away. I started walking over as the last of the late afternoon sun swept over the city. Stragglers from office buildings headed into parking lots or down subway entrances. Restaurants were filling up. Bars waited patiently for their late night crowds. Philly’s Center City was on the upswing. It wasn’t exactly boom time, but things were humming along nicely and the city was looking good.

  On the way to the Westbury, I felt adrift and isolated. Something was missing and I wasn’t sure what. The events of the past couple of years had turned my life inside out. I was in a rebuilding phase but lacked the materials for the job.<
br />
  Galen always said the right things come along when you need them. He was a lot more in tune with that kind of thinking than I had ever been. He’d mentored me and I’d learned a lot from him. When he disappeared without a trace, it proved to be the first of a mind boggling series of events which led me down some dark and dangerous paths. I wanted to think the worst was over and that I’d figure things out eventually.

  Having to meet at the Westbury was what caused these thoughts to bubble up. The bar had been one of Galen’s favorite haunts. He liked the low key nature of the place and the fact that he could sit undisturbed for as long as he liked. I laughed when I remembered the look Galen’s face took on when he didn’t want to be disturbed. Truthfully, he could probably sit in any bar and not be bothered if he didn’t want the attention. That’s just how fierce he could appear to be. But I knew better.

  I pushed open the Westbury’s door and found myself in the cool dark space I remembered well. It was too early for the bar to be even a quarter filled, especially on a week night. I didn’t recognize the bartender, an older man who obviously kept himself fit and wore a t-shirt like a second skin. His grizzled beard was dark and streaked with silver like his hair.

  He smiled and placed a napkin in front of me as I sat on the barstool.

  “What’ll it be?”

  “Molson’s.”

  I’d taken a seat at the other side of the bar, so I could face the door and keep an eye on the rest of the place. My uncle always said I should never sit with my back to a door, and with the connections he’d had when he was alive, he should know. I believed almost everything he ever told me. Once or twice, his advice had even saved my ass.

  The bartender brought my beer. I lifted the bottle and took a long swallow. A heady rush overtook me for a moment, and I felt the day’s events fade. It was nice to forget for a while, even if it was only temporary. It was always easy enough to reconnect with trouble.

  I heard the door open and looked up. It wasn’t Mikey. But the man looked familiar. When he smiled and nodded, I remembered he was one of the attendants at my gym. We’d never actually spoken more than a few words. Never pegged him for a Westbury guy.

  Five minutes later, Mikey walked in. Shy and unassuming, he looked around and spotted me. A ghost of a smile passed across his face so quickly, you’d miss it if you blinked. Taking the seat next to mine, he leaned one arm on the bar and turned to face me.

  Before he could say anything, the bartender asked for his order.

  “Beer. Whatever’s on tap is fine,” Mikey said sounding anything but sure of himself.

  “Let’s see some ID first,” the bartender said without a smile.

  Mikey took a wallet out of his back pocket and plucked out his driver’s license.

  The bartender scrutinized it, then smiled and winked before turning around to get Mikey’s beer.

  “What’s goin’ on, Mikey?”

  “I’m, uh, I need your help. Please.” He sounded down and frightened and lost.

  “What’s happened? Tell me.”

  “I didn’t do anything, Mr. Fontana. That’s the truth. These people, they think they can say anything. They think — You gotta know I was bein’ honest with you.”

  “Who’re we talkin’ about, Mikey? And what’s got you so scared?”

  “Rick and C-Cass. They been callin’ and botherin’ me. They want—” he stopped as the bartender returned with his beer.

  “I thought you ditched them? Why’re they bothering you now?”

  “They think I stole that painting.”

  “How’d they even know about it?” Word gets around. If Luis knew about the theft, I shouldn’t have been surprised that people who actually dealt in stolen art would know. “Don’t answer. It doesn’t matter.”

  “What am I gonna do? They threatened me. They said they know I have the painting and if I don’t give it to them, they’ll make me regret it. And they will. They’ll hurt me.”

  “Shit.” These buffoons weren’t likely to believe Mikey no matter what. I’d have to get involved. “Can you set up a meeting?”

  “Do I have to? I don’t wanna see these guys anymore.” The pleading tone in his voice told me plenty. He was desperate to leave his old life behind.

  “You won’t have to see them. I’ll meet with them myself. Tell them you hooked up with somebody new, and that I’m handling things now. Tell them they’ll have to deal with me.” I didn’t exactly have a plan, but I’d come up with something before the meet.

  “When? They expect me to deliver the piece tonight. I don’t have it, Mr. Fontana. I can’t deliver it.”

  I thought quickly about the best place to meet, somewhere that’d give me an advantage. Then it came to me. The empty office on the first floor of my building could work. It was seedy enough to be believable. There was a back exit, which might come in handy, and room enough for me to maneuver if they tried anything. I’d just need a little time to get things ready.

  “Set up a meeting with them for midnight tonight.” I gave Mikey the address and told him to stay away, which he was only too happy to do. Then I asked him to tell me everything about Rick and Cass. I especially wanted to know their soft spots.

  ***

  As I left the Westbury my stomach growled, the beer had worked up an appetite. I headed to the Venture Inn knowing I could have a quiet dinner while I thought about how to handle Rick and Cass.

  The VI still had a loyal following and was more than half full when I entered. The lights were dim and the conversation was low. As I peered around, Bobby, a waiter who knew me from before I’d started the private investigation business, came up to me and asked if I wanted a table. I nodded, and he found me a seat at the back where I could think and make a few calls and not bother anyone who was trying to have a quiet night.

  Without being asked, Bobby brought me a glass of Merlot and gave me some time with the menu. I didn’t mind eating alone, especially when I had a problem to work through or a case to work on. When Bobby returned for my order, he looked down at me mournfully.

  “Alone again, doll?”

  “By choice, Bobby. Got a case to work on.”

  “You always got a case. What you need is a man. You’ve heard’a them, right? They come in nice packaging, but they’re even better unwrapped. You need some help findin’ one?”

  “I think I’ve got it covered, but if you have a suggestion…”

  “Oh, I’ve got suggestions. Boy do I have suggestions,” Bobby said as he walked away.

  Mikey had seemed sincere and I was certain he was telling the truth about not wanting to get involved with Rick and Cass again. Even though I’m pretty good at catching out a liar, sometimes I get thrown off the track. Was Mikey the kind who could lie so convincingly, it’d throw me off my game? If he’d been involved in stealing the art and had already gotten rid of it, that would be a good reason he’d want Rick and Cass off his back. I was a convenient sap to use as cover for him.

  But I didn’t feel that Mikey was using me. I had to go with my instincts. Mikey might have been lying about something, but it wasn’t the DaVinci.

  I made a few calls while I waited for Bobby to bring my food. First to the building super. He happily let me use the mostly empty first floor storefront. It had been abandoned by its last tenant, some fledgling company that claimed to be able to do everything anybody wanted. Of course, that kind of business takes a dive real quick, and that’s what had happened. They’d had to leave everything behind. For tonight, it’d look like the place was mine. Shabby and seedy but all mine. Besides, if Rick and Cass were smart, they wouldn’t be expecting a respectable art dealer in a fancy set of offices. They’d be expecting a guy in a place like that first floor dump.

  Next I called Kevin, a bouncer at a new bar in town called Bubbles. I’d been there a number of times and had gotten to know him. A big bruiser with a baby face, which allowed him to carry on his drag “career” when he wasn’t breaking the necks of troublemakers at Bubbl
es.

  Kevin had helped me out on a few cases, including one in which he got to use his drag identity, and he liked the work. When I told him I needed him to be my muscle and all around sidekick for the evening’s meeting, he agreed immediately. He also agreed to bring along another of the bigger bouncers.

  I ended the call and was about to tap in another number, but Bobby set my plate down on the table and stood back staring at me. The stern expression on his face said he wasn’t happy.

  “Well, you gonna eat that?” he asked, one hand planted firmly on his hip.

  “Yes, mom, I’ll eat all my food, even the vegetables,” I said and peered up at him. “Then can I have dessert?

  “You’re working too hard and you’re skipping meals. I know it,” Bobby said. “When was the last time you were in here for dinner?”

  ***

  The first floor storefront was a dismal piece of real estate. I’d picked up the key from the building super and had started rummaging around. Cracks and holes in the plaster walls, dirty windows, and the only light came from a couple of tired, dull-looking wall sconces. Just enough lighting so Rick and Cass would see me but only just. I was glad the place looked filthy and decrepit. Perfect for an impromptu meeting. Rick and Cass dealt with the underbelly of society every day. They shouldn’t expect fancy offices. All I wanted to do was throw a scare into them, get them to forget about Mikey. Which is why I needed Kevin and his friend, types who looked like they had no conscience and could take care of any dirty work I might have in mind.

  Kevin arrived with a guy, even taller and more bulky than Kevin himself. He was introduced to me as Den and when we shook hands, I felt the power in his grip.

  I explained what I wanted them to do. Essentially they were to stand their ground by my side, stare at Rick and Cass without let up, ball their fists menacingly, and generally look like they chewed nails for snacks and drank battery acid for fun. They nodded enthusiastically and immediately got into character.

  I’d brought my gun along, even though Mikey said his fence friends never carried. I hadn’t known a thug yet who wasn’t armed. Rick and Cass would be no different.