Bone Crack

by JJ Lamb

  In Blitz’ case, you’d be dead wrong.

  Christina had phoned ahead because Blitz was pretty ugly when anyone just dropped by. She climbed the concrete steps to an enclosed entryway, gave the bell the required dot-dot-dot-dash signal, and Blitz answered the door within seconds.

  He was wearing torn jeans and a t-shirt with a faded logo from an eight-year-old telecon. After a quick exchange of cheek kisses, they went straight to his workshop, which had been created by knocking out the wall between two bedrooms. There was barely room for the two of them to ease through the jungle of equipment, loaded shelving, and stacks of books and magazines.

  There was one small loveseat near his main desk, half of it filled with paperback novels, all thrillers.

  “Want something to drink, sweetheart?” he asked.

  “No, I don’t want a drink and you know how I hate that sweetheart shit.” She walked over to the sofa and plopped down.

  He gave her a wide smile. “Whadda ya gonna do? Ah loves it.”

  “And stop sounding like an idiot. A Harvard pee-aitch-dee doesn’t talk that way.”

  “You’re no fun, sweetheart.” He sat opposite her on a rolling stool. “So what’s the deal?”

  “I was hoping you’d take time out and help this neat couple uncover a murderer.”

  “Murderer. Oh, oh, right. Okay, feed me the data.”

  She handed him a thumb drive. “It’s in here, including his most recent password.”

  * * *

  “You’re sure this Gina and Harry combo is the real thing/” Blitz said after scanning everything on the drive. “I don’t need any undercover snitches sending me off to the slammer.”

  “No, they’re good people. They’re only looking to out this creep of a doctor.”

  “Okay, let’s get started.”

  Blitz pivoted around to face the arc of seven monitors. Just how many different computers they were linked to, Christina had no idea. Whatever the setup, lines of code scrolled across the screens in what seemed to be a never-ending stream of data.

  “Okay, Leo baby, let’s see what we can do here.” Leo was his main computer, named after a beloved lion. A photo of the big cat sat atop almost every piece of equipment.

  * * *

  Gina and Harry offered to meet Christina at a semi-posh restaurant to go over her findings.

  “Rather do it at your place,” she said. “Never really know who the wait-staff are, or who’s in the booth next to you. What say I bring over a little something and we can nosh while we talk?”

  “Sounds nice, but the idea was that we would be treating you,” Gina said.

  “Six of one, half a dozen of the other.”

  “Around six, is that okay?”

  It would have to be okay, but it meant changing plans they’d made with Helen and Vinnie to discuss more details for their joint wedding.

  Gina picked up the phone.

  “We’ll have to cancel our dinner plans for tonight. A friend of Harry and Paul’s is in town for just the day and they wanted to see her.”

  “No problem, sis. Tomorrow okay?”

  “I think so,” Gina said. “I’ll let you know.”

  “So what’s really going on, liar?”

  “What do you mean? It’s just what I told you.” Gina could feel the heat crawling up the back of her neck. Telling a lie did that to her.

  “Gina, you could probably get away with that phony excuse with almost anyone else, but not me. I know you. Something’s up.”

  “Look, we’ll talk tomorrow. Besides, why are you always so suspicious of me?”

  Vinnie let out a loud laugh. “Are you kidding me?” And then he was gone.

  “Sounds like Vinnie didn’t buy your little white lie,” Harry said while putting out some wine glasses. “Knew I should have called.”

  The bell rang, Gina opened the door.

  “Oh, the parking around here is a bitch!” Christina stood in the doorway with a large take-out bag in her arms.

  The aromas broadcast a bag filled with Chinese food. “Come in! Come in!” She took the food from Christina and carried it into the kitchen and sat in on the counter. Christina followed her.

  “This is very sweet of you,” Gina said.

  “I agree,” Harry said. “We would have been glad to make dinner.”

  “Two nurses?” Christina said. “Are you kidding? I knew it would be something like salad and fish or something healthy and boring. No way! Let’s eat some real fun food.” She looked around the small kitchen. “I assume you have chopsticks, right?”

  * * *

  They were sitting in the living room, Gina and Harry on the sofa, the hacker on a chair opposite them. Christina spread sheets of paper across the coffee table. She started explaining what Blitz and she found when they hacked into Tallent’s computer.

  “The man keeps two sets of books for his practice: One of them is for his consults and surgeries—they add up to close to a cool half-million a month. Most of the surgeries are listed as Cath Lab procedures. There’s a number of triple bypasses, valve replacements, and blah, blah, blah.”

  “Blah, blah, blah is a new cardio surgical procedure?” Harry said with a laugh.

  “I’m sure you’ll be much more interested in some of the other stuff we found.” Christina pointed to the spreadsheet on the table.”

  “He’s just teasing you,” Gina said.

  Christina gave them the hint of a smile and continued. “The second set of books shows the same income/expense records as the first, plus entries for other financial activities, like double-billing Medicare and the insurance companies, plus blah, blah, blah. I’m not all that savvy with all this medical stuff, but it’s sort of like ghost-chasing. It’s probably what his accountant stumbled on.”

  “You mean the charges look phony?” Gina asked.

  “Yep. Definitely cooking the books.”

  Christina scooted to the edge of her seat. “There was a separate password for an account named Vlad.”

  “Vlad?” Both Gina and Harry said at the same time.

  “Now, that’s really interesting. There are three fifty-thousand dollar entries in it, one from almost two years, another couple of weeks ago, and the third from only yesterday. Also, there’s a twenty-five thousand dollar entry right after the second fifty.” Christina’s eyes were intense.

  Gina did some mental calculations and said, “The dates sort of line up with the death of Tallent’s wife, the deaths of Maria and her mother, and the twenty five is around time Lolly decided to pull up stakes and go back to New York. But the third fifty thousand entry?”

  “Maybe he’s hired Vlad to kill someone else that you don’t know about,” Christina said.

  Gina and Harry looked at each other. He reached for her hand and squeezed it hard.

  * * *

  After Christina left, they looked at each other for a long time before walking back into the living room. They fell onto the sofa like twin puppets.

  “Do you think Vlad’s been hired to kill me? I mean, first it was Tallent’s wife, then the bookkeeper and her mother, and now...”

  “I know it looks bad,” Harry said, but—”

  “—Harry! He had me cornered in the locker room at Ridgewood. If you could have seen his face—it was a mask of pure malice. I could have some doubts that the man is a murderer if that hadn’t happened.”

  Harry reached out and took her into his arms. “Let’s think about it. God, I wish we could go to Mulzini about this.”

  “We can’t do that.” Gina squeezed him tighter. “He’s scared about his own problems right now. We can’t go to him.”

  “Calm down and think about it logically.” Gina pulled away, looked at him, and nodded. “Why did he let Lolly live?” Harry said. “That doesn’t make sense. I mean, he certainly wasn’t bargain shopping at that stage of things.”

  “True. He could have thought it was way too soon for another murder, afraid he might interest the police.”

 
; “So Lolly just may have lucked out,” Harry said.

  “I wouldn’t call what Lolly described as lucky. She ran away, maimed, and terrified.”

  “At least she’s alive.”

  “All this for greed?” Gina asked. “You saw his financial run down.”

  “Maybe” Harry said, “but it looks as though once he took his wife out, it was like a domino effect.”

  “Yeah. And I’m the next domino set to fall!”

  Chapter 49

  Mulzini knew he was losing it. He’d been feeling crazy all day.

  In all the years he’d lived and loved Marcia, he’d rarely made her cry. No credit to him. It was her. That woman really got him.

  Pure luck that he’d found her.

  Yet, twenty minutes ago she stormed out of the house, and as the door slammed shut, he heard, “You’d better get it together, Mulzini, or I’m never coming back—surgery or no surgery.”

  He pulled a chair up to the living room window and watched the rain come down in torrents. Marcia always said it was his dark side that drew him to the damp and rainy weather—made him feel better.

  Not today. The only sunny side in my life just stomped out the door.

  Dirk came and stood by Mulzini’s chair—wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

  “You know, Mulzini, I’ve been wanting to ask you a question for a long time. I just didn’t know how you’d take it. Maybe this isn’t the best time.”

  “Hey, kid. You can ask me anything—anytime, anywhere.”

  “Would you mind if I call you Dad instead of Mulzini?” Dirk smiled down at him.

  It caught Mulzini off guard. He swallowed hard. “I was wondering if you’d ever come around to it.” He stood, leaned over and buried his head in the kid’s chest. Before he could stop himself, he started bawling.

  “Hey, hey, if you don’t want me to, don’t worry about it. I know you already have kids and ... and ... really, I’ll understand.”

  Mulzini stood and looked deep into Dirk’s eyes. “Damn! I’d be honored, son. So would Marcia. You know how much we’ve come to love you.”

  “Thanks ... Dad!”

  Mulzini smiled at him.

  “Good! Now that we’ve got that out of the way ... and I already knew you’d say yes ... tell me, what the hell is going on?”

  “Smart-ass kid.” Mulzini walked across the room and plopped down on the sofa. Dirk followed and sat down beside him.

  “It’s this damn surgery. I don’t mind admitting that I’m really scared.”

  Dirk took his hand. “Well, sure. Who wouldn’t be?”

  “But it’s tomorrow; it’s actually tomorrow.”

  “I know. But now isn’t the time to push us away. You need Mom and me.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t like needing people—no matter how much I actually do. You get it?” Mulzini gave a humorless laugh.

  Dirk nodded.

  “I’m used to hoofing it alone, with my head up.”

  “It doesn’t make you less of a person because you need people.”

  “And I believe that—for others. Not me.” Mulzini smiled weakly and looked away.

  “Dad, you’re going to get through this with flying colors. Have I ever lied to you?”

  “Well, yeah, I can think of a few occasions.”

  “Those don’t count.”

  Then they were both laughing as Marcia came back through the front door.

  She stared at Mulzini, defiance bouncing off every inch of her. “What’s so damn funny, if I may ask?”

  “I’m sorry, babe,” he said. “Really sorry. And I need you to forgive me.” He put an arm around Dirk’s shoulder. “This one just asked if he could call me Dad.” He turned to Dirk. “But no Da-Da. Got it?”

  Marcia’s scowl slowly morphed into a smile. “So you finally did it?”

  Dirk nodded.

  She leveled her eyes at Mulzini. “Just to let you know, he‘s been calling me Mom for the past month.”

  “How come I never picked up on that?” Mulzini slapped Dirk’s thigh.

  Marcia carefully removed her wet jacket, threw it on the floor, and jumped into his lap. “Because you’re a lousy detective, Mulzini!”

  * * *

  Vinnie, Helen, Gina, and Harry stood outside the Mulzinis’ front door, waiting for someone to respond to the doorbell.

  Vinnie said, “Are you sure he won’t mind our popping over like this on the night before surgery?”

  “I don’t care whether he minds or not,” Gina said. “I know he’s scared to death and I’m sure Marcia could use a little backup.”

  “And having us here is going to help distract him.” Harry held up the huge box of pizza they’d brought with them.

  “Need some help with that,” Helen said. “Not that I’m offering—I’m just saying, the bottom is probably damn hot.”

  Dirk opened the door and Gina knew it was a good thing they’d come when he gave them a big smile.

  “Hey, come on in. Dad’s going to love this. Mom planned a nice intelligent dinner, but pizza? Dad’s going to go wild.”

  Dirk stepped aside and they all marched into the living room. Mulzini and Marcia were holding hands and smiling.

  Everyone started laughing at the look of surprise on Mulzini’s face.

  * * *

  Gina and Mulzini found a corner in the living while the others were still eating around the kitchen table.

  “You guys are something else.” Mulzini held up a wedge of pizza “Thanks for this. I really do appreciate it.”

  “You know, every time I look at Dirk I remember that night after being dumped in the park and buried, he found me and really saved my life. I was so scared.”

  “You’ve always said it was cosmic.” Mulzini had a toothpick trying to work out a piece of tomato caught in his eye tooth. “

  Gina nodded. “He’s a great kid.”

  Gina watched Mulzini’s eyes fill with tears. She reached for his hand. “I know you’re afraid. But look at it this way—you’re having surgery in my department and I’ll be in the thick of things, looking to save your ass.”

  “Does that mean you’ll also have your hand inside my chest?

  “Cool it! They are not opening your chest. They’re going in to try to stop your atrial fib by buzzing some cells.” Gina squeezed his hand. “Aren’t you tired of that rapid heartbeat sending you to the ER?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Of course I am. But that doesn’t mean I want someone electrocuting me.”

  “They’ll find the area in your heart where those bad cells are sending out the wrong signals. Then they’ll shut them up.”

  “Now you’re at least talking like a mench instead of some medical wizard.”

  “I love it when Italians speak Yiddish.” She leaned over and looked into his eyes. “I’ll be there for you, Mulzini. Just the way you’ve always been there for me.”

  “You’re a good kid, Mazzio.” He squeezed her hand. “But you’re definitely a pain in the ass.”

  “I know. It’s one of my more endearing qualities.”

  Chapter 50

  Mulzini was on a gurney, on his way to the Cath Lab. He was wide awake, telling Gina over and over that he really didn’t want to do this. He’d refused any pre-op meds, and kept insisting he wanted to get up and go home.

  “You can’t go home until you have your procedure.” Gina pulled scissors from her jeans and waved them in front of his face. “Don’t worry, Mulzini, I’ll cut away all the bad parts, put them in a jar of formaldehyde.”

  “Hah! Very funny.”

  “Look, you’re going to be fine.”

  “You’re a liar.” Mulzini tried to scoot off the gurney but the nurses held him down. “I know damn well that doctor is going to murder me.”

  * * *

  Gina jerked up in bed, drenched in sweat. She could barely breathe.

  Harry turned over, nudged her, and mumbled, “Go back to sleep, doll.”

  She was chilled when she lay back dow
n. She scooted under the covers, cuddled up to Harry’s back. She closed her eyes, and tried to relax.

  A dream. Only a dream.

  But she was afraid, worried it was a warning that Dr. Morton Tallent might end up killing Mulzini.

  * * *

  Tallent spent a restless night, turning from side-to-side, barely getting any sleep. Having Vlad in his house, in the next room, made him edgy. The guy was like a fuse, lit and ready to blow.

  He finally turned on the light; the first thing he saw was his bedside picture of Annie. She’d had the softest eyes he’d ever seen. Even when she was angry there was always room in her heart for forgiveness.

  He held the picture to his chest, tears blinded him.

  I’m such a fool.

  In the year before she left him, she did all the crying in bed at night, just as he was doing now. He would take her into his arms, try to soothe her. But even while he held her close, his head was filled with numbers: projected income, investment growth, the S&P, the Dow.

  Money. Money.

  At the crack of dawn, he crawled out of bed, padded down the hall, and went into his study. He looked around the room, his gaze moving from one item to another. He was searching for something, not knowing exactly what. Then he saw Vlad’s name scratched across the surface of his surfboard.

  That piece of shit knows he owns me. Owns my soul.

  Tallent collapsed into his desk chair, stopped to look back and forth between the damaged board and another picture of Annie on his desk.

  Everything he treasured had been stolen away while he was trapped in a snarl of numbers that he’d created.

  It had all started when he heard of that dirty little secret where other doctors were overbilling Medicare with phantom charges. That first small step away from basic medical ethics had brought in huge profits, with no outlay of capital. He never once had to chase down Uncle Sam to pay its bills. The government coughed up the money like a super-efficient ATM.

  It was so easy, it felt like magic.

  Then he stepped away from the more risky surgeries and nailed every possible Cath Lab procedure, needed or not, and more and more money poured in.