Justin wrinkled his brow, I sensed he didn’t like the question, but he answered, “I wasn’t here. Barbie, as you call her, asked me to help her move some furniture around in her new apartment last night.” His eyes sparkled for the briefest second, “She just dropped me back off a few minutes ago. Seeing your car, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened. After I talked to Moe I gave my guys a call and told them it wouldn’t be necessary to come around today. Don’t think Bracchi will make his presence known again for at least a few days.”
I muttered, “Too bad, you missed all the excitement.”
As he walked away Justin scoffed, “Jack, I’ve seen all of the vehicles blown up that I need to in this lifetime.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
By 9:00 a.m., several investigators were digging through what remained of my still smoldering car. I had taken a look out the back door a couple of times but made no effort to interact with them. If asked why I wasn’t more curious I would say that my experience as a prosecutor told me that my presence would only be a distraction to the investigators doing their jobs. The truth was, that I was in no hurry to start answering questions.
I could see PJ huddled over the hood of a car with a couple of the people who had arrived. She had several file folders spread out on the hood, so I guessed she was briefing them on the situation I was having with Bracchi.
Marge arrived around 9:30 a.m. She was visibly upset when she came through the back door, “Jack, what happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I was upstairs, sound asleep. Someone blew up my car.”
Marge looked ashen, “My God Jack, first they beat you up then they blow up your car. That animal! What are we going to do?”
“Marge, everything’s going to be fine. As you can see by all of the activity outside, the police are taking this whole situation very seriously. PJ’s here, she’ll make certain everyone knows what’s been going on. Let’s go back into the office for a few minutes. I’d like to talk to you about something.”
It had occurred to me that Marge hadn’t worked this past weekend, so she hadn’t seen Justin or his people here, but she did know of our plans from the meeting we had Friday night. I needed to finesse her into not mentioning our strategy to PJ, or anyone else.
We sat down in the office, Marge behind the desk and me on the couch. I started slowly, “Remember the idea we discussed Friday about Justin getting some people he knows to hang around in case Bracchi or his thugs showed up?”
She looked irritated, “Of course I remember Jack, it was only two days ago. You think I’m getting senile or something?”
I chuckled, although it sounded a bit forced, “No, nothing like that. Well anyway, a couple of Justin’s friends were here Saturday when two of Bracchi’s thugs came in. Moe and I asked the two thugs to leave and when they refused, Justin’s friends assisted us. It wasn’t any big deal. Most people here at the time probably didn’t even know anything was going on. Moe and I didn’t even get the names of Justin’s friends.”
Marge interrupted, “So. Justin must know their names. They’re his friends.”
“Well, that’s the thing. Justin and his friends don’t want to get involved. I don’t know why they are so hesitant to get involved, but I want to respect their wishes if possible.” I had a pretty good idea why Justin and his friends don’t like contact with the police, but didn’t intend to share that with Marge. “Moe and I are going to tell the police about the incident and that two guys, whose names we don’t know, helped us out, but we’re not going to mention why the two guys were here. Nor are we going to mention anything about Justin. It really wouldn’t contribute anything to the police investigation, so there’s no need to mention our little meeting Friday night.”
Marge cocked her head to the side, “Are you asking me to lie to the police Jack?’
“No, no, of course not. What I’m saying is that there is no need to offer the information about our meeting Friday, nor Justin’s suggestion that he could provide some people to help us out. If you were asked a direct question about it I would want you to tell the truth. I’m just suggesting that there is no need to volunteer information that really isn’t important, but might distract the police. Even if they located these two guys, they couldn’t tell them anything Moe and I can’t.”
Her eyes narrowed, “Do you think the police will question me?”
“I really doubt it, but you may well have casual conversation with PJ while she’s around. I just don’t think we should mention Justin or his help.”
Curiosity crossed her face, “Is there some reason Justin doesn’t want to talk to the police?”
“I don’t really know. If there is, I doubt it’s anything sinister, but lots of people don’t want to talk to the police. He can’t really contribute anything. I just think we should respect his wishes.”
“Okay Jack, I understand. I won’t lie, but I won’t volunteer anything either. I can tell you this, there is more to Justin than meets the eye and I think you know that too. Moe told me that Justin helped you when you were protecting Sissy, so he’s okay in my book. I just hope there isn’t anything undesirable about him that you’re not seeing.”
I wasn’t about to tell Marge what Justin had done to protect Sissy. Given the nature of what I did know about Justin’s capabilities I didn’t really want to know any more myself. I stood and said, “Thanks Marge, I knew you’d understand. Now I better get back out there, I’m sure PJ will want to talk to me.”
I knew Marge would never hold up if questioned, but I really didn’t see any reason she would be formally interviewed. I just wanted to guide her from making off hand comments to PJ that would become problematic.
As I got back out to the bar area, Moe was following PJ in the back door. PJ waved to me in greeting and turned back to say something I couldn’t hear to Moe. I heard him reply, “No problem Detective. If you need anything more from me I’ll be around all day.” With that, he headed across the bar toward the kitchen.
I met PJ in the middle of the floor and said, “Looked like lots of activity out there. Figured the best thing I could do is stay in here, out of the way.”
Her cop face was at its sternest, “I thought you and I had an understanding. You were to call me when you had encounters with Bracchi or his thugs.”
I held my hands up in surrender, “I was going to call you. I just didn’t want to ruin your weekend.”
Now she was angry, “Bullshit Jack. I told you that’s why you have my cell phone number. So you can call me anytime. What the hell’s going on around here anyway?”
I could see that I better get this under control quickly before PJ started asking questions I didn’t want to answer. I looked down at the floor and lowered my voice to a conspiratorial tone, “You’re right PJ. I know I should have called you, but you also know I think of you as a person, as a friend, and I really didn’t want to interfere with your weekend with Angela. You don’t get that much time off. There wasn’t anything I could’ve told you Saturday that I can’t tell you today. I’m sorry. I was only trying to be considerate.”
Her face and tone softened considerably, “Okay Jack, I hear what you’re saying. You just need to know that the friend thing works both ways. If we are truly friends you should know that I wouldn’t consider it interfering with my weekend for you to call.”
Damn, I put myself in a corner again. I looked at her with a sheepish grin, “Okay. How about you forgive me this time and I do better next time.”
PJ shook her head, “Jack Nolan, why is it I think you’ve delivered that line many times in the past, in many situations?”
I shrugged my shoulders, “Just cop intuition I guess.” I gestured toward the nearest table, “Shall we sit? I can tell you about Saturday.”
PJ sat down and placed the stack of file folders she had been carrying on the table. Looking at the open notepad on the top of the stack she said, “Moe gave me his recollection of things out in the parking lot.
I doubt yours will differ much, but let’s go through it.”
Our story was simple and Moe and I must have been pretty consistent because PJ didn’t ask many questions. After a few minutes, she changed topics and began asking about my car bombing. Had I heard anything, seen anything, those types of general questions. Then she asked, “Have you looked at the security camera video from outside yet?”
I not only hadn’t looked at it, I hadn’t even thought to look at it. Damn Jack, that’s pretty elementary. Attempting to conceal my stupidity I said, “I thought you would want to look at it first. Didn’t want to take a chance on messing it up somehow.”
She nodded, “Okay, well there’s no time like the present.”
PJ and I went back to the office. Marge said hi to PJ, but excused herself saying she needed to talk to Moe about a couple of things. I was relieved that they weren’t going to be directly interacting.
I was really glad that I had the entire camera system repaired and upgraded last week after my thumping. We now have two cameras on the side of the building where my car was parked. One shooting back to front and the other front to back. Between them they cover the side of the building and the parking area on that side. It didn’t take long to fast forward through the nighttime hours because there was no movement in the area.
At 2:47 a.m. a figure could be seen walking along the side of the building from the front. It was tough to judge size, but it looked to be an average sized male. I only guessed male by the way he moved. Could have been a woman, but I didn’t think so. He was dressed totally in black including a hoodie that concealed most of his face. My guess was that he knew there were cameras that couldn’t be avoided.
When he reached the point along the side of the building directly in line with my car he walked swiftly from the shadows of the building to the driver’s side of the car. He kneeled on one knee and place a small object about the size of a cigar box under the car. It was hard to tell for certain, but it looked like he pushed the object up against the underside of the car directly under the driver’s seat area. He stood, turned, and retraced his route until he disappeared at the front corner of the building. The time stamp showed he was in view of the cameras for less than one minute.
PJ leaned back in her seat on the couch, “A real pro. Nothing sloppy about that. Very efficient. We better hope the lab boys find something meaningful.”
The cold efficiency, almost military precision, sent a chill through me. Before I could say anything PJ asked, “Can you cue up the footage from the camera in front of the building? So we can see which direction he came from.”
Having a time frame to work from it didn’t take long to find the shadowy figure entering the view of the front camera in his journey toward the corner of the building. He came into view walking purposefully up the sidewalk from the south and cut directly across the front parking area into the shadow of the building. A minute later he reemerged from the front corner of the building and retraced his route exiting the camera view on the sidewalk headed south.
PJ said, “We’ll have some officers canvas the area south. Maybe we can get lucky and figure out where he parked or where he was dropped off and picked up. We have a good time frame now. Maybe we can find another camera that caught a vehicle or a better look at him.”
I made copies of the footage from the cameras on the side and front. She asked for the time period from midnight until after the fire department departed explaining that she would watch the front camera footage to see if any vehicles passed more than once during the time before the figure appeared. Maybe doing a drive by to make certain no one was around.
She also told me she was going to get the camera footage from the marina to see if anyone in the small crowd that had gathered to watch the fire looked suspicious. That froze me for a second, hopefully she would only look at the footage up until the time the fire department left and not see me go down to the marina or Justin and I talking.
PJ and I went outside and chatted with the guys in the white, now dirty, disposable coveralls who were processing the scene of the demise of my poor car. PJ told them what we had seen on the security footage and they said it was consistent with their initial findings. They told me that a flatbed truck would arrive shortly to transport my car to a lab for additional processing and storage as evidence.
Tim arrived while we were talking with the lab guys and he and PJ huddled for a few minutes near his car. He waved to me, but got back in his car and left. It was obvious that this incident was being treated very seriously. Normally that would have been a solace, but for some reason I found it just a bit troubling.
Two hours later my car was gone and the area was swept clean. All that remained was a blackened patch of parking lot, where the asphalt had partially melted, and a dumpster badly in need of repainting. Most of the lunch crowd wouldn’t even notice.
My first order of business Monday afternoon was to contact my insurance agent to report my loss. He commented in passing that this was his first ever loss due to a car bombing. I felt so honored. While still basking in the glory of my honor, I made arrangements to have a rental car dropped off later in the afternoon. Everything was getting back in order, with the exception of my feeling of security, but that no doubt was Bracchi’s intent.
PJ called later in the afternoon and told me investigators had determined that Bracchi caught a flight early Sunday back to Newark. His alibi was rock solid. No surprise there. It certainly wasn’t him we’d seen on the security video anyway.
PJ told me they were putting feelers out to all of their reliable informants in hopes of learning something about who Bracchi might have connected with in South Florida to pull this off in such a short time frame. They were working on the theory that he’d have made the decision to up the ante sometime after our confrontation with his two guys Saturday evening. I hadn’t told her about Justin seeing Bracchi talking to the two thugs, but she was obviously convinced that Bracchi knew about our confrontation and was behind the bombing.
She also said that they hadn’t been able to locate any additional camera coverage showing either the guy who planted the bomb or any suspicious vehicles they felt may be connected.
I asked PJ if the bomb guys could say whether they thought the bomb was rigged to go off when I got into the car, and went off prematurely, or if it had been intended to go off in the middle of the night. In other words, was it intended to kill me or just scare me? She said that the lab analysis of the components they’d recovered wouldn’t be complete for several days.
After talking to PJ, I sat at the end of the bar nursing a Landshark. Beer didn’t even taste good to me this afternoon. I was exhausted, having only had a couple of hours of sleep last night, but didn’t feel like trying to rest. I just keep turning everything over and over in my head. Something just didn’t fit.
It was the timeline that was bothering me. If our confrontation with Bracchi’s thugs Saturday evening had been the catalyst that set in motion the bombing of my car, how in the hell had it been pulled off so quickly? It had only been thirty hours, or so, between the Saturday evening confrontation and my car blowing up. Even if there was an 800 number to call for bombers it would seem difficult to get something set up that fast. It’s tough to get flowers delivered that quickly.
So if it wasn’t Bracchi, who could it be? Don’t go there Jack. Don’t get distracted. You know Bracchi is capable of something like this. How many other enemies do you have that are capable of something like this? No, it has to be Bracchi.
So if, after the Saturday evening confrontation, Bracchi decides to send a stronger, or permanent message, how does he have it accomplished so quickly? Don’t things like a car bomb have to be constructed? You can’t just go to the corner hardware store and buy one. Are there people who have all of the necessary components, including the explosive, in stock, just waiting for someone to call up and order a bomb? Based on the evening news, bomb making must be a cottage industry in some parts of the world. What’s to
say some of those bomb makers haven’t emigrated here. Are the people who plant bombs the same ones who build them? There was only one thing I knew for certain, I was giving myself a roaring headache.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
By Wednesday, my world seemed to have stabilized, although it was undeniably changed. I was running errands again, but in my shiny new rental car. I stopped parking in my designated No Parking spot and began to park at the back of the lot, where the people staying on their boats in the marina park. While the likelihood of Bracchi going the car bomb route again seemed slim, I wasn’t taking any chances.
I’d talked to PJ on the phone several times since Monday, but she hadn’t been in. Sounded like significant effort was being put into the investigation, but nothing concrete had developed. At least nothing she was telling me about. I had also noticed Hollywood police cars driving by Cap’s Place more frequently the last couple of days than I ever had in the past.
Justin had suggested that we bring his guys back on the weekend just in case Bracchi sent any of his thugs in to check on me. I deferred to his judgement. Justin seemed to be popping into Cap’s every couple of hours, staying for a few minutes, and leaving. I felt he was keeping a pretty close eye on things. I also noticed that he and Moe usually exchanged a few words each time Justin was in. My guess was that Moe served as his eyes and ears when Justin wasn’t present.
Marge was uncharacteristally quiet for a couple of days, no doubt uneasy that we weren’t being totally candid with PJ about the Saturday confrontation with Bracchi’s thugs, but by Wednesday she seemed to be back to normal. The fact that the investigation was keeping PJ away from Cap’s gave Marge some time to accept the situation. Her focus now was on worrying about my safety. That was something I could certainly relate to.
Nimble Be Jack: A Jack Nolan Novel (The Cap's Place Series Book 2) Page 17