Carat Capers

by Dan Kelly

  It so happens that this fence, Arnie Serefino, has a cousin who is a financial advisor for a very wealthy vintner in France and this cousin recently saw a gift being somewhat surreptitiously given to his client’s wife at a party being held to celebrate her 40th birthday. One minute she was dazzling her guests with her witty personality and after receiving the gift and disappearing into a small ante room for a few moments reappeared to dazzle them with an exquisitely cut deep green emerald the size of a golf ball. The gift giver apparently didn’t want anyone to know where the gift came from save the lady of the mansion, but the cousin knew immediately who he was from occasional bits appearing in the society pages of several Parisian newspapers.

  Arnie wouldn’t give up the name until a price for the information was agreed upon. Mickey was already offering a thousand dollars for useful information and was reluctant to pay any more, but his curiosity was definitely aroused so he asked how much more he wanted. When Arnie said another thousand, Chuck pointed to the door and told him to have a nice day. The man quickly recovered with, “Okay, okay, you can’t blame a guy for trying. $500 clams and that’s my final offer.”

  $250 and you get it along with the original $1,000 when I verify you aren’t handing me a bunch of nothing.”

  “Geez, Chuck, you’re sure being a hard ass about this.”

  “Take it or leave it.”

  “Okay, I’ll take it. The man’s name is Pierre Lavelle. The man is of royal ancestry and there are rumors floating about in certain circles that he occasionally dabbles in shady transactions.”

  “It’ll take me a day or so to check it out. If the info is on the level, you’ll have $1250 bucks in your hands under the table within 48 hours. You know my word is good. It’s been nice doing business with you, Arnie. Have a nice day.”

  When Arnie left, Chuck wanted to go home and take a shower. Arnie is a real sleaze ball and every time Chuck has to deal with him he comes away feeling he has just been in a mud wrestling match and he’s lost.

  Now armed with a name, he immediately calls Jacques Prevot. “Jacques, I’ve come up with a name and I want to run it by you. Does the name Pierre Lavelle mean anything to you?”

  “It sure does. He’s well known in the upper crust circles over here. He’s got royal blood in his veins and his ancestry gives him access to the elite of European society and he mingles with them frequently. He lives a very opulent life style apparently financed by an enormous amount of inherited wealth. I don’t believe he’s done a lick of honest work in his life, but the occasional rumor floats around that he’s got his fingers in some illegal enterprises. Nothing has ever turned up that could be used to prosecute him. He’s a likable guy and even the gendarmes seem to like him and are inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. Why the interest?”

  Chuck told him about Arnie’s cousin’s observation and his caution about taking anything Arnie says at face value. “That’s very interesting, Chuck. I wouldn’t think someone with his apparent wealth would be inclined to pilfer baubles he can afford to buy. Although the very rich do have a history of doing crazy things just because they’re bored to death. Maybe he’s involved for the thrill of getting away with something. Then again, maybe he’s not involved at all. His name has never come up in my circles, but I’ll make some discrete inquiries and see what they bring to light.”

  “Watch your back, Jacques. Be very careful. These guys play rough and don’t hesitate to kill anyone they think is a threat to them.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “I’m going to have my Paris office put a 24/7 tail on him. It could lead to something we can use to identify the players involved. If it does, I may be over to share that meal and wine with you sooner than I thought.”

  “You be careful too, Chuck. It sounds like you’re doing your best to stir up a real hornet’s nest.”

  “You got that right, my friend. We Americans have a saying, ‘No pain, no gain.’”

  “Pain’s one thing, dead is not something I’m ready for yet.”

  As soon as they hung up, Vicki Valance’s name came to mind. “I wonder if Vicki has ever heard of Pierre or had dealings with him. It’s probably a long shot, but who knows. Long shots do come in occasionally.” As he punches in her number he chuckles to himself and mumbles, “Besides, it’s a good reason to be calling her again. Man, Ferguson, listen to yourself. A few dates with this woman and you’ll have maxed out all of your credit cards. On the ship of life, she’s travelling in luxury and your ass is in steerage. Wake up and smell the coffee.”

  The call goes to her voice mail, so he leaves a message for her to call him the first chance she gets and then heads for the American Museum of Natural History to talk with their head of security. Although Lieutenant Morretti has already covered this ground, Chuck knows that sometimes people see and interpret things differently and sometimes a fresh pair of eyes uncovers something new. His next stop after the museum will be Tiffany’s to see what he can shake loose there.

  Chapter 12

  It’s a gloomy, rainy day in Manhattan which suits Mickey’s mood just fine. He’s facing another day of phone calls and internet surfing to try to dig up anything that will point in a direction with promise. He’s thinking of starting out by contacting the human resources departments of the companies that were robbed to check into any recent hires that might turn into ‘persons of interest’.

  Before he can punch in the first number, his phone rings. It’s his sister, Cheryl. “Mickey, I just came across something that might help you with your investigation into the recent gem robberies. I’m putting together a case against a low life druggie caught trying to break into a pharmacy. He’s claiming to have some information about the recent gem robberies and wants to make a deal to stay out of jail.”

  “What his story?”

  “He claims to know something about the museum robbery, but won’t open up until he can make a deal.”

  “How do you feel about that?”

  “I’ve no problem with it. He’s a two time loser, hell, he’s been a loser most of his life. If we give him a get out of jail free card this time around, it won’t be long before he screws up again and he’ll wind up where he belongs anyway.”

  “Where’s he being held and when can I talk with him?”

  “Upper east side, 19th Precinct. Pick a time.”

  “I’ll be there in an hour.”

  “Bring donuts. I missed breakfast.”

  An hour later, Mickey, Cheryl and the loser whose name is Salvador Jimenez are all sitting around a long beat up table in one of the 19th Precinct’s interrogation rooms. After introductions are made Mickey says, “Okay, Sal, what do you have to offer?”

  “Nothin’ until you tell me we’ve got a deal.”

  “Can’t make a deal, Sal, if you won’t lay your cards on the table. I don’t buy pigs in a poke.”

  “Pigs in a what?”

  “I’ve got to know what you have to trade if you want to have a chance of making a deal.”

  “How do I know you won’t stiff me after you hear what I have to say?”

  “You don’t, but we frequently make deals with people who find themselves in unfortunate situations because they can’t resist the temptation to take something that doesn’t belong to them and because of their lack of foresight as to the consequences of their actions. If we didn’t keep our word, the street would know in a heartbeat and we’d never be able to trade favors with otherwise stalwart citizens like you.”

  The sarcasm was obviously lost on Sal, but he was thinking hard about what to do. After a minute of shaking his head, he finally spills the beans.

  “I know one of the janitors that works at the American Museum of Natural History. A couple of weeks after the robbery he came into a bar I hang out in sometimes and he was flashing a lot of green around. I asked him if he won the lottery or something and he said he got it for taking pictures. At first he wouldn’t tell me what kind of pictures, but after a few beers he loosene
d up and said pictures of the Silverman precious gem collection and the location where it was going to be displayed. He was told that the pictures were needed for a magazine article that the publisher wanted to get out on the streets before his competitors could come up with something. He was told that the people in charge of the display wouldn’t give anyone an advantage with respect to reporting on the display because they didn’t want any adverse publicity by showing any favoritism to anyone. He figured there would be no serious harm done, no one who would find out that it was him who took the pictures and he’d make some nice extra money tax free.

  “Now, what can you do for me?”

  Mickey asked, “What’s the janitor’s name. That’s a big place and there’s more than one I’m sure.”

  “I only know his first name, Ralph. He’s a big guy, has a lot of bushy dark brown hair and he speaks with an accent of some kind, but I don’t know what it is.

  “So, how about it? Can you make the mess I’m in go away?”

  Mickey looked at Cheryl and said, “What he’s given us is worth something. What can you do to make things go easier for him?”

  “Well, he never actually got into the pharmacy although he did do damage to the window he was trying to jimmy. Sal, if you are willing to pay for the repair of the window I’ll talk with the owners about dropping the charges. If they agree and you come up with the repair money, I’ll turn you loose.”

  “Okay, whatever the cost is to repair the window I’ll have to borrow it from someone and work it off. I’ve done that before and should be able to do it again if I can use one of the phones around here to make some phone calls.”

  Cheryl said, “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

  After Sal was taken back to his cell, Cheryl said, “Where are the donuts?”

  Smiling like only brothers can do when they’re pushing their sisters’ buttons he said, “At the bakery where they always are and that’s where they should stay. I decided to protect you from the evils of sugar and the challenge of finding clothes to fit a 300 pound body and instead to offer to take you to dinner tonight at Luigi’s. His calories are a lot better for you than Dunkin’ Donuts’. Besides, you’ll be able to flirt with Giuseppe at Luigi’s.”

  “I don’t flirt. That’s for high school girls.”

  “Oh come on, sis. The last time we ate there you were flashing that come hither look at him all night. I thought you were going to jump his bones right there in the kitchen.”

  “You better get out of here while your bones are still in one piece, but I’ll take you up on your invitation and be prepared. I’m going to order the most expensive Chianti on the menu.”

  Laughing, Mickey headed for the door and said over his shoulder, “I’ll pick you up at seven and wear that low cut burgundy number. That’ll set Giuseppe’s blood to boiling in a hurry.”

  He just managed to close the door when he heard her note pad hit the other side of the door and then shortly after his sister’s giggle.

  Walking back to his car Mickey’s thinking, “Ralph, you are about to have a visitor. Janitors are supposed to be cleaning up messes, not helping to create them. Maybe you can help me to take out some serious trash, the murderous scum behind all of these robberies. Maybe, just maybe I’m about to get something I can sink my teeth into.”

  Chapter 13

  When Chuck gets to the museum he asks one of the guards where the security office is located and who the head honcho is. Aldo Palosa was found in an office on the second floor of the museum chewing on a pencil between gulps of coffee. He is a big man, at least 6’4”tall, 240 pounds, most of it muscle, bald as an egg and he looked like he hadn’t had much sleep for days.

  “Mr. Palosa, my name is Chuck Ferguson and I’m working with the police on their investigation into the precious gem collection robbery here at the museum. You can check me out with Lieutenant Morretti if you have any reservations about talking with me.”

  “I’ve already talked with the lieutenant numerous times since the robbery. What the hell can you ask me that he hasn’t?”

  “Probably nothing, but sometimes a new perspective, a fresh pair of eyes and ears if you will, can pick up on something overlooked previously. Do you have any ideas about how the robbers got into the building, how they disabled the security system, how they knew the assigned rounds of the guards, found out where the gems were being kept overnight and how they managed to get the combination to the safe involved?”

  “As I told the Lieutenant numerous times, I think the creeps had inside help, but I haven’t a clue as to who that might be. There were no signs of locks being picked or force being used to open any doors or to open the safe. The only assumption from that scenario that makes any sense is that these people had keys, key cards and combinations and they had to have inside help to get them. If not, we’re dealing with something really off the wall and way beyond my ability to imagine.”

  Chuck has a sudden thought. “You know surveillance equipment can also be used by thieves with the wherewithal. How long do you keep your security camera pictures?”

  “Normally, 60 days and then we erase and reuse. Why?”

  Chuck didn’t answer. He’s on a roll. “Do the police still have the tapes from the day of the robbery and how many days back do they go?”

  “The police still have the tapes, but I have the log. The tapes are numbered and the log will tell me the days and times on each tape. What are you looking for?”

  “Humor me. I’ll answer your questions after we have a look in your log.”

  Palosa pulls out the log from a file cabinet and after riffling through some pages finds the tapes he’s looking for. “Here we go. They were fresh tapes 34 days before the robbery took place.”

  “We’ve got to take a gander at those tapes. They might hold some answers for us.”

  “What do you hope to find?”

  “What if your light fingered visitors bugged the museum before the robbery to get the info they needed to get what they were after. There is miniature surveillance equipment on the market today, cameras and microphones, that is very hard to see with the naked eye if you aren’t looking for it. I’d like for us to view those tapes to see if we can spot anything unusual.”

  “Brilliant minds think alike.”

  They had both been so engrossed in evaluating Chuck’s idea that they didn’t see or hear Mickey come into the office. “I had the same idea a while ago, but haven’t had the time to pursue it. I’ve come up with something else though that might lead to something. Mr. Palosa, do you have a janitor working here by the name of Ralph. I don’t have a last name.”

  “The name doesn’t ring a bell with me. Let me check with our human resources department.”

  A couple minutes later he has the answer. “We have a Ralph Reid who works in the janitorial department. He’s been with the museum for almost four years. What’s your interest in him?”

  Mickey tells them about Sal and Sal’s encounter with Ralph in the bar. Chuck says, “Well, I believe this calls for a little chat with Mr. Reid. Mr. Palosa, is this guy working today?”

  “Let me make another phone call.”

  It turns out that Ralph is working today, but he’s on the graveyard shift, eleven to seven in the morning. Mickey says to Aldo, “Get his home address and let’s pay him a visit, all three of us. Sometimes, a little intimidation goes a long way.”

  Five minutes later they’re headed for Hoboken, NJ.