Corridor Man Volumes 1, 2, 3,4 5

by Nick James

  The street had been blocked off. A large black trailer labeled BCA Crime Scene was parked at the curb in a No Parking Zone. Some guy with glasses and curly hair wearing a hazmat suit had the side door open on the van and was talking to someone inside. Bobby quickly headed in the opposite direction, made his way down the sidewalk and around the first corner.

  If they hadn’t already recognized him they undoubtedly would learn very shortly that he lived there. That was all Woodley would need to narrow his investigation down to one individual, namely Bobby. Carrick would jump on that coincidence and be only too happy to join in the pursuit.

  He walked the mile and a half to his office. As he stepped off the elevator, he noticed there was no sign of the vase of roses nor the violated remembrance book for Noah Denton. Marci handed him a pink message slip as he walked past. Mercifully she was on the phone and couldn’t give him the third degree, although she still found a spare moment to flash her shark smile.

  The message was from Bennett Hinz asking him to stop in first thing. It wasn’t even nine o’clock, and Bennett wouldn’t be in for at least another hour. He hurried to his office and phoned Luis.

  “Si,” Luis answered on the first ring.

  “Luis, Bobby, just in my office now.”

  “What can you tell me, my friend?”

  “I’m not sure. By that I mean I’m not sure what happened. I can tell you that my car exploded. I’m guessing most likely a bomb. In fact, I don’t know what else it could have been. I suspect a woman who was in my unit took my car keys in the middle of the night, left with the idea of stealing my car, and when she turned on the ignition the bomb that was left for me went off.”

  “Did you know this woman?” The question had a number of implications.

  “Yes, she was Noah Denton’s daughter.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line before Luis said anything. “Noah Denton’s daughter?”

  “Yes, but it’s not what it sounds like. She rang my buzzer sometime after midnight. I didn’t want to let her in, I had a guest. But, she sounded intoxicated, she was apparently on foot, and so I let her in thinking she could sleep on the couch or something. I guess sometime in the middle of the night she snuck out, stole my keys on the way, and, well, in a strange way saved my life.”

  “What about Miguel and Jesús? Where were they during all this?”

  “They alerted me that she was ringing the buzzer. Against their advice, I let her in and made the two of them move to the guest room.”

  “The two of them? Why not put the woman in there?”

  “Like I said, I had a guest. I didn’t want her near us and well, I thought Miguel and Jesús deserved a decent night’s sleep. The Denton woman I didn’t care about.” After a very long pause, he asked, “Are you still there?”

  “I would guess it was fortunate she stole your keys, yes?”

  “Yes, it was. The police talked to me this morning, they…”

  “The police?”

  “Yeah. They won’t be a problem. They were basically knocking on doors, informing folks that their cars were destroyed. I’m guessing I was one of a half-dozen people they were talking to.”

  “Did they see Miguel or…?”

  “No, they’d left before the police knocked on the door. But, here’s the problem. The BCA was beginning to investigate the scene. They had the area taped off, collecting samples, wearing hazmat suits and that sort of stuff. In short order if they haven’t discovered human remains, they certainly will. I expect to hear from the police fairly soon, certainly this morning.”

  “They’ll know it was a bomb and wonder why it was placed in your car.”

  “Yeah, and when I saw the BCA guys I also spotted two detectives I’ve dealt with in the past. I think it’s fair to say they’d love to nail me for something, anything.”

  But, you haven’t done anything here. I mean, will they think you planted a bomb in your car? Of course not.”

  “Yeah, but Luis, at the very least they’ll be curious. I think we should be very careful about contacting one another.”

  “You’re right, of course. But don’t lose sight of the fact that you are the victim here, my friend. At the end of the day, that bomb was meant for you and only by the grace of God well, and the stupidity of that woman, were you spared.”

  “Yeah, that may be, Luis, but I still expect to hear from them in person before the morning is over.”

  “Let me make a suggestion. When you have finished talking with them, walk out of your office and take the elevator to the second floor. You’ll be on your skyway system. Head toward the bank building, you know, where you make your phone calls.”

  “Okay,” Bobby said, wondering how Luis knew he phoned from pay phones in the skyway system.

  “Someone will meet you, if it’s safe.”

  “Safe?”

  “Yes, if the police aren’t following you. Goodbye, Bobby, we’ll chat later.”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Bobby didn’t have to wait very long. Just before ten Marci phoned him and said, “Mr. Custer, I have Detective Woodley and Detective Carrick here to see you. They said it’s important.” She sounded more than a little flustered.

  Bobby faked a chuckle and said, “Those two, come to see about the golf game this weekend. Please send them back.”

  He stepped away from his desk and looked out of the window next to his office door. Woodley and Carrick were making their way toward his old office. Even from a distance Woodley looked high energy. Carrick shuffled behind him in a wrinkled sport coat. Based on his memory, Bobby thought Carrick may have dyed his hair, now a brownish color not found in nature. He didn’t think it would have been possible, but it made the man’s comb-over look all the more ridiculous. The part in his hair was just about level with the top of his ear. He waited until they were almost ready to knock on the wrong door, then opened his and called across the open area to them. “Gentlemen, over here.”

  The two cops looked at one another then hurried around a half-dozen paralegal cubicles toward Bobby. “Thanks for coming down,” he said loud enough for anyone listening to hear. “Please, come on in.”

  He closed the door behind them, indicating the couch and stuffed chairs rather than the two chairs opposite his desk.

  “It seems you’ve come up in the world,” Carrick said taking in the expansive office.

  Bobby nodded and flashed a quick smile. “So, what’s the news? What the hell happened to my car? Some careless idiot smoker?”

  Woodley cleared his throat in a manner that suggested Bobby had stolen the initial thunder. “We don’t have a lot of information yet. We can tell you this, it was a bomb.” He let that just hang out there for a moment as both of them seemed to gauge Bobby’s reaction.

  “A bomb? Are you sure? What is this, some sort of terrorist thing? A bomb? Really?”

  Woodley nodded. “We’ve got a number of questions. The first would be who was in the car?”

  “In the car, how in the hell would I… Oh, God no, no!” The two cops sat stone-faced, not giving a reaction. Bobby continued with his rehearsed lines. “Someone rang my buzzer late last night, sometime after midnight. It turned out to be Addison Denton, and she…”

  “Addison Denton?” Woodley asked.

  “Yeah, her father was a senior partner here. Noah Denton. Founding member of the firm, actually. Highly regarded. He just passed away. In fact, his funeral was yesterday. Anyway, she rang my buzzer, sounded like she had been drinking, wanted to come up.”

  “You had a relationship with her?”

  “Oh, God no. I don’t need that sort of trouble. No, I’d say it’s a fair guess she has a lot of issues. She’d been drinking, needed a place to stay. I let her sleep on the couch. She apparently got up sometime in the middle of the night. Took my car keys and…you said a bomb?”

  Woodley nodded.

  “Well, that would explain it. I haven’t driven the car in two or three days. With the wake and the fu
neral, I had a ride. Oh God, her mother doesn’t need this. A bomb, you’re sure? Maybe I should call her mother just to see if she’s there. I mean she could have just as easily called a cab in the middle of the night and gone home.”

  “Yeah, might be a good idea, check with her mother.”

  Bobby hurried over to his desk and picked up the office phone, punched in his home number then waited while it rang and rang. “Oh Christ, come on answer, damn it, answer,” he groaned hoping he sounded believable. “God, I hope it’s not her. It’s been an incredibly tough few months. Oh Christ, no answer,” he said walking back to the two detectives and sat down. “How much can one person take?”

  He lowered his head and tried to think of something sad, forcing some tears to well up. Then he stood up, walked over to his credenza, pulled out some Kleenex and blew his nose. He knew just tears weren’t convincing, he’d needed to show the dripping sinus, too. The detectives seemed unmoved.

  “So this woman just happened to show up after midnight and you made her sleep on your couch?”

  “Yeah, that’s about right,” Bobby said trying to look distracted, pretending to not quite follow where they were going.

  “Were you in a relationship with her? Was she more than just an acquaintance?”

  Bobby looked up and pretended to suddenly grasp the inference. “What? A relationship? With Addison Denton? Noah Denton’s daughter? If this whole scenario wasn’t so absolutely tragic that would really be funny. Just for starters, let me count the ways that would not be a good idea. She’s the daughter of the firms senior founding partner. Bad career move. She’s, how could I put it, a loose cannon. She was intoxicated to the point of not being able to make her way home. To tell you the truth, I don’t know if she drove or was on foot. I do know that her mother had thrown her out of the house within the past few months. I don’t know for sure, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she has a drug and alcohol problem.” He directed that last line toward Woodley.

  He continued on, reminding himself to phrase things in the present tense. “I would guess it’s a pretty safe bet she may be carrying one or more sexually transmittable diseases. She is at best immature, possibly suffering from some form of mental illness. She certainly seems to suffer from depression. Her mother has become somewhat of a friend. I don’t think the kid has ever worked. I suppose you can describe her as a failed artist, but to my knowledge she doesn’t really work at her art. I could go on, but I hope you’re getting the picture.”

  “And she lives with her parents?” Woodley asked.

  “Like I said, she did up until maybe a month or so back. In fact, I had given her mother a ride home from the airport after Addison failed to pick her up. When I dropped her off, Cori, that’s Addison’s mother, went nuts. The house was trashed, party mess all over and at that point she just snapped and kicked her daughter out of the house, right then and there.”

  Both detectives remained stone-faced.

  “The kid is hard work. I don’t know her all that well. I’ve only interacted with her when her mother asked me to. But, she’s a disaster just waiting to happen.”

  “Which brings us to this morning,” Woodley said. “Now what I’m wondering is just who would want to place a bomb in your car?” He made it sound like the list would be rather long and he might be on it.

  “I have no idea,” Bobby said. “I can’t think of anyone who would even consider it let alone know how to actually do that.”

  “Would that last statement include Morris Montcreff and the Morales family?” Carrick asked.

  “That’s just crazy. Whatever you may think about Morris Montcreff, I’m probably the guy with more information on his,” he chose his words carefully, “investments. Hell, I may even know at least as much about them as Mr. Montcreff. As to the Morales family, your term, not mine. The only individual I’ve had dealings with was Camila Morales and I have not spoken nor seen her ever since the unfortunate set of circumstances that caused the house fire, and I might add, left me holding the bag on an insurance loss. Plus, I got a hell of a bill from the city running into the thousands of dollars to tear down whatever remained of the structure and clean up the lot.”

  “While all that may be, Mr. Custer, I hope you can see things from our point of view. Two groups in our city with, shall we say, varied interests, and you turn out to be a common denominator. Now about this morning’s incident, don’t you find that strange?”

  “It is strange. Strange that you, or anyone else,” Bobby shot a quick glance at Woodley, then returned to Carrick, “would look at the situation from such an elementary level. After paying my debt to society, I applied for a position at a number of firms, including this one. I started out chauffeuring people to and from depositions and the occasional court appearance. I was thankful to get the job. I can’t practice law, at the moment, but that does not exclude me from offering my years of hard won experience to a variety of individuals, some of whom, I believe, include your family, Detective Woodley. When the highly regarded senior partner, Noah Denton became ill I was able to step in and at least monitor things for his clients, one of whom was Morris Montcreff. From out of nowhere, Camila Morales wished to rent a property I had. At no time did I seek her out. As a matter of fact, she had a child with her, a little girl, and I did my best to talk her out of renting the property due to the location. If any of this is grounds for placing a bomb in my vehicle, then I would suggest you are going to have your hands full because this city is about to go up in smoke.”

  Woodley and Carrick exchanged glances then Woodley stood and smiled. “Can’t thank you enough for your time, Mr. Custer. I’m sure we’ll be in touch.” The two of them turned and walked out of the office not bothering to close the door behind them.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Bobby waited fifteen minutes after they left before he hurried out of the office. He worried about sneaking past Bennett’s office, but fortunately Bennett hadn’t made it in yet. He told Marci he’d be back in twenty minutes, then stepped onto the elevator and pressed the button for the second floor.

  For fifteen years between 1967 and 1982, the city of St. Paul built a series of skyways that connected most of the downtown buildings by second floor walkways spanning the streets below. Called skyways, they eliminated the need to step outside, particularly during the six-month period between November and April. Bobby got off the elevator and using the skyway system, made his way toward the pay phones in the First National Bank building. It took the better part of a ten-minute walk to get there. He was almost within sight of the escalator that would carry him down to where the phones were located when a soft voice called to him from behind.

  “Bobby?”

  He turned to see an attractive, dark-haired woman hurrying toward him. She was wearing a somewhat conservative skirt and blouse looking like most of the other women walking the skyway who were stepping out for a quick coffee or to latch back onto a moment of sanity after being in an office for the better part of the morning. “Great to see you, Bobby. How have you been?” she said catching up to him.

  “Fine, thanks. Great to see you, it’s been a while. How are things?” he asked without having a clue as to who she was.

  “Good, thanks,” she smiled. “Come on, let’s walk,” she said then linked arms with him and turned to head back the way he’d just come.

  “Actually, as much as I’d like to, I really can’t. I’m afraid I’ve got to meet someone.”

  She smiled and said, “Yes, you do and I’m the person who’s going to take you to him.”

  “Huh?”

  “Luis, you were going to see him, weren’t you?”

  “Yes, yes. I’m sorry you just caught me a little off guard and…”

  “That’s the idea,” she said then led him through another skyway to a door labeled exit. They walked down three flights of stairs and through a metal door and suddenly they were in an underground parking area. Their footsteps echoed off the grey concrete walls. He could hear a vehi
cle coming from somewhere, although with the sound bouncing off the concrete walls, it was difficult to determine exactly from where. A moment later, a black SUV pulled around the line of cars and stopped in front of them. The tinted windows were too dark to see inside and Bobby gave a quick glance left and right for a possible escape. There really wasn’t one.

  “Here we go,” she said, then turned and headed back to the stairs they’d just come down. He watched her for a brief moment, heard a car door slam and turned back to see a man approaching.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to do a quick search.” he said, sounding like he wasn’t at all sorry. He held out a device that looked like it had been stolen from the TSA out at the airport and he waved it over Bobby’s arms and legs. “All right, good to go. Hop in,” he said then stepped back and held open the side door.

  “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Lucky,” Luis called as Bobby climbed into the SUV. “I don’t know, the way things are going today maybe you should think about buying a lottery ticket.”

  “Hi, Luis. The way things are going? Someone tried to kill me this morning,” Bobby said as the SUV pulled up the exit ramp and out onto the sunny street.

  “Actually, if you want to get technical about it, they tried to kill you three days ago. That’s how long that device sat wired to your car, waiting for you to climb in and just turn the key.”