“Manny, I’m gonna bet Hoyt has a place here in Westport. If that’s true, we’ve hit pay dirt. I don’t think he’s spotted either of us. We’ll just follow from behind until he reaches wherever he’s going.”
“When he does,” Manny said, “you drive by him and I’ll stop before I reach him. I’ll let you know where he is.”
Looking back in my rearview mirror I saw Hoyt make a right turn onto a side street. I pulled over to the side of the road. I didn’t see Manny coming up from behind me so I guessed he saw Hoyt make the turn.
Manny called a minute later. “He has parked his car, Charlie Floyd. I’m going to drive by and I’ll let you know in what direction he walks.
Another minute passed and Manny’s name lit up on my phone.
“Yeah.”
“I have got him. He parked, walked a few blocks, then went into a small apartment building.”
“Bingo. Stay right there, Manny. I’m right behind you.”
Francis Hoyt
“Vito, this is Francis.”
“Yeah.”
“I need another favor.”
“What makes you think you got one coming?”
“Two years in the joint is a long time. How about one favor per year. And now that I’m active again I can see they’re accruing some benefit to you.”
“Yeah? Like what would that be? I already bit one of the hands that feeds me.”
“This won’t even be a blip on your screen. But I don’t think we should talk about it over the phone. The walls have ears, if you know what I mean.”
“Then how do you propose we conduct this business? And let me tell you, last time it was a freebie, this time it’s gonna cost you.”
“Don’t worry, I always pay my debts. What say we meet tomorrow, same time, same place.”
“I’ll be there. Just don’t push your luck, pal.”
“I only push it as far as I need to. The rest is pure talent.”
Charlie Floyd
My cell rang just as Manny and I were about to cross the street, heading into the apartment building where we thought Hoyt might be living.
“You swore you’d protect me. You swore.”
I recognized her voice, even if it was distorted from fear.
“Melinda, calm down. What’s the problem?”
I motioned to Manny to follow me, as I headed toward the corner. I made a slight turn so if Hoyt happened to be looking out of a window onto the street he wouldn’t see us. Meanwhile, Manny positioned himself so he could see the entrance of the building, if Hoyt decided to leave before we crashed his party.
“The problem? You know the problem. It’s Francis. You said you’d protect me from him.”
“And I will. He’s nowhere near you.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I just spotted him and he’s a state away from where you are.”
“How do you know he hasn’t sent someone after me?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because I went out to do some shopping and when I came back there was a guy loitering around the building.”
“Melinda, you live in New York City. There are guys loitering on every corner.”
“This wasn’t just any guy. He looked like he was one of those guys you see in the movies, you know, the guys who whack people.”
I wondered how much of this was real and how much was imagination run wild. Would Hoyt hire a hit man to go after her? I didn’t think so. More likely if he hired anyone at all it would be someone to send her a message, or maybe even get her out of town. Anything more than that, I didn’t think so.
“Where are you now?”
“I’m in Trader Joe’s. Downstairs. Near the produce.”
“Did the guy spot you going in?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Good. Don’t go back home. Is there someplace you can stay tonight?”
“I…I…”
“Forget it. This is what I want you to do. Go down to Grand Central and hop on a train to Westport. When you’re on the train, text me what time it arrives. I’ll pick you up and you’ll stay at my place, with me and Manny. If we can’t protect you, no one can.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I keep my promises, Melinda. And try to keep an eye out to see if you’re being followed. Okay?”
She started to cry. “Yes…” she managed, between sobs. I didn’t want to hang up on her but I didn’t want to risk the chance of losing Hoyt.
“Don’t take the subway. I want you to grab a cab.”
“All right,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Melinda…will you be okay?”
“Yes,” she said. She’d stopped crying now but I could hear her breathing hard. “I…I don’t have anything. Clothes. Makeup…”
“Don’t worry about that stuff. We’ve got stores up here. We’ll get you whatever you need. But you have to go now.”
“I…”
“Do it now, Melinda.”
“All right.”
“And be careful.”
I didn’t like the sound of what I’d just heard. She was scared stiff. Would Hoyt really do something to harm her or was he just trying to scare her? Or was she imagining the whole thing?
It didn’t matter. I’d put her in danger and she was my responsibility now. I’d figure out what to do with her later. Right now, Manny and I were going to head straight into the lion’s den.
Francis Hoyt
Ever get that funny feeling in the pit of your stomach? You know, the one that gnaws at you and you can’t quite figure out why you’re feeling it. Usually, it means there’s trouble ahead, only you can’t be sure what kind of trouble it is.
That’s what I was feeling as soon as I got back to my little Westport apartment. I’m not saying I’m psychic or anything, but I do believe we have mind powers that haven’t been scientifically explained yet. Some call it intuition, or gut feelings. I think maybe they come from way back in evolution. You know, when to survive man had to listen to those signals. Maybe they thought they came from God. You know, the whole voices thing. Me, I just think it’s a sense we were given only it’s been dulled over the years. The more electronically we get plugged in, the further we get from that instinct. That’s what it is. An instinct. An instinct that tells you when danger is near.
I always listen to that instinct, only I don’t always know what to do. But something told me I shouldn’t be hanging around that apartment for long. I don’t know why, but I thought I had to get out of there.
Manny Perez
Charlie Floyd wanted me to take the lead.
“This is your play, Manny. I’m just here to back you up.”
“But this is your jurisdiction, Charlie Floyd. You’re the one who has to make the arrest.”
“I’m happy to take care of that part of it if it comes to that. But remember, we don’t have a warrant so we have to have probable cause to take him in. That would come if we can find him with any contraband, but it would have to be out in the open. All we can do is try to rattle him enough so that he does something I can arrest him for.”
I nodded. Charlie Floyd was right. We could confront Francis Hoyt but unless there was an opening there would be little more we could do to him. What we really needed to do was either catch him in the act or catch him with stolen property.
Of course, Francis Hoyt’s name was not on the nameplates and looking at them we did not recognize any familiar names that he was known to use as an alias. But something caught Charlie Floyd’s eye.
“This is it, Manny. Three-B. See, no nameplate. Let’s go.”
Francis Hoyt
“What the fuck?”
“Trick or treat, Francis?”
“Are you surprised to see us, Francis Hoyt?”
I tried to close the fucking door on them but the little spic was too quick for me, jamming his foot in so I couldn’t close it.
“Aren’t you going to invite us in?” Floyd said.
“No.”
“Got something to hide?”
I decided to let them in. After all, what could they find? It’s not like I had a closetful of stolen silver.
“My life’s an open book, so come on in, gentlemen.”
How the fuck did they find me? My mind raced through all the possibilities. Who knew I was here? No one. So how the fuck did they track me down?
“As you can see, I’m not exactly set up for visitors, which means you won’t be staying long. How the hell did you find me?”
“You can run but you can’t hide. You should know that.”
“That don’t answer my question.”
“You really think we’re going to answer that?”
The little spic started to walk around the room, looking at my stuff, invading my fucking privacy.
“Hey, you!”
He looked up.
“You wanna stay over here, where I can see you?”
I looked back at the big one. “I know you haven’t got a warrant or you would have waved it in my face, and I know you don’t have probable cause, so what the hell are you wasting my time for?”
“Just being neighborly, Francis. We figured you dropped in on us we ought to return the favor. So, have anything planned for the rest of the day?”
“Yeah. I thought I’d have some dinner and then maybe hit a couple houses tonight. Wanna join me?”
The little spic kept wandering around the apartment, sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. He got to my closet and was just about to open it when I stepped over and grabbed his hand.
“You open that door and I’m going to fucking sue your ass off.”
“Something to hide?” said Floyd.
“Nope. Okay, Perez, here.” I opened the door. Perez peered in to find absolutely nothing but a few things hanging, and my empty backpack on the floor.
“You think I’d be stupid enough to keep anything incriminating around here?”
“I didn’t think so. But it seems you forgot one thing.”
Charlie Floyd
I couldn’t believe my eyes. There it was. Practically in plain sight. Sticking out from under a couple magazines on the night table. It was like a gift from God. If I actually believed in God, that is. But who knows, maybe this will change things.
I didn’t say anything to Manny. I just pulled the cuffs out of my back pocket and before Hoyt knew what hit him I’d slapped them on his wrist. Almost as a reflex action he started to struggle. Manny quickly saw what was happening and grabbed Hoyt from behind. He was a strong little fucker, but the two of us managed to subdue him.
“What the fuck is going on?” he shouted. “You got nothing on me. You can’t arrest me.”
“That’s funny, because that appears to be just what I’m doing.”
I walked over to the night table beside his bed. There, peeking out from underneath a copy of Architectural Digest, was a very familiar item: the silver ashtray my mother had given me.
Hoyt looked stunned.
“You just had to take something, didn’t you, Francis?”
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“Sure, you do,” I said, holding up our trophy. “This little ashtray is going to send you away for a long time. A couple years ago I had this appraised and it’s worth at least a couple thousand bucks. You know as well as I do that this graduates you to grand larceny. That’s a good start, don’t you think? And I’ll bet Manny here can find some other charges against you, once we get folks to turn over on you.”
He laughed.
“You think it’s funny?”
“I think it’s fucking hilarious if you think this charge is going to stick. I’ll just say you planted it on me.”
I shook my head. “That might have worked except that I reported it stolen after you left my house. And I don’t think it was that smart leaving that message for us in the house down the block. I’m sure a prosecuting attorney can use that to build the state’s case.”
“I want a fucking lawyer.”
“I don’t blame you. I was in your position that’s exactly what I’d want, too.”
Manny Perez
In my experience criminals catch themselves more than we catch them. Most of them are not very bright or astute. Most of them never finished their schooling. Most of them think they are smarter than everyone else and, in the end, this is what does them in: their own stupidity or arrogance or belief that they are invulnerable. If Francis Hoyt had not given in to his baser instincts and stolen that ashtray from Charlie Floyd’s house we would probably still be working on ways to apprehend him and put him under arrest. But you must never underestimate the self-destructiveness of the criminal element. Most of them are criminals because they cannot exist within the rules of civilized society. They must make their own rules and yet their own rules all too often fail them.
Arresting Francis Hoyt for what was a senseless crime was only the beginning. Both Charlie Floyd and I would now, along with the Connecticut, Florida, New Jersey, Massachusetts, and New York authorities, as well as the FBI, be working to put Francis Hoyt away for the rest of his life. I was certain that in addition to all the burglaries he committed, he was also responsible for some more serious crimes, murder among them, though that would be more difficult to prove.
Once my suspension was lifted, I returned home to Miami. I stayed in constant touch with Charlie Floyd and in the back of my mind I had an idea. It was an idea for the future, but I kept it to myself. There might come a time when I would share it with Esther and the rest of my family, as well as with Charlie Floyd, but right now the goal was to normalize my life and that meant returning to my duties as a detective with the Miami Police Department.
Charlie Floyd
As soon as Manny left town and the furor over Hoyt died down a little—he was now in the hands of the State Police and the FBI—things almost got back to normal.
Melinda Shaw stayed with us for a couple nights, but once she felt safe enough she returned to her apartment in the city. I checked up on her every once in a while, and she had to come back up to Connecticut a few times to be interviewed by the investigator who took my place, John Woycek, and the FBI visited her to get any information they could on Hoyt. They were in the process of trying to track down Evelyn Kerns, but even with Manny’s help they weren’t making much progress. By this time, Manny had been reinstated and was back to work keeping the streets of Miami safe for its citizens.
My job was done and to be honest, I was left feeling a little down. Being back in the game was good for me. It gave me a reason to get up every morning. And working with Manny showed me that I missed the interaction with human beings other than the postman and the checkout girl at Stew Leonard’s.
It was a couple months after the collar when I got a call from Wild Bill.
“Are you sitting down, Charlie?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“I’ve got some bad news for you.”
“Someone making complaints I haven’t cut my lawn lately? Truth is, the mower’s on the fritz and I’m too damn cheap to pay some kid to do it. Besides, what else have I got to do to pass the time?”
“That’s not it. It’s about Francis Hoyt.”
“Oh, jeez.”
“He escaped.”
“You’re fucking kidding.”
“I wish I was.”
“How the hell did that happen?”
“He was brought in to make a court appearance. His lawyer had gotten him this real nice suit—”
“Oh, man, I see what’s coming.”
“Yeah. He asked to go to the bathroom, so they had to uncuff him. They took their eyes off him for only a minute, that’s all it took, just a damn minute, and the next thing they knew he wasn’t there anymore. Their guess is, dressed like that, he just waltzed out of there like any honest citizen. They probably thought he was just another attorney—”
“Only dressed better, I’m sure.”
; “I’m sorry, Charlie. We’ve got a warrant out for him and the FBI is on the case. We’ll find him.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“I’m guessing that reward isn’t paid until he’s actually convicted.”
“I don’t care about the reward, Billy.”
“I didn’t think so. Still, it was probably a nice chunk of change. But it’s not over. Like I said, he’s going to have to find a very big rock to hide under and I can’t imagine he’s going to give up the life.”
“No. That’s not gonna happen. He’ll be back robbing houses within a month. But the question is, where?”
“It’s not your problem.”
“Sure, it is. It’s unfinished business.”
I hung up and thought about calling Manny, but I didn’t have the stomach for it. I was hoping that he was onto something and someone else by now. That he could let go of Hoyt. After all, we’d proved that Hoyt wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. He made a stupid mistake and it got him caught.
Of course, that wouldn’t be the way Hoyt would see it.
Sometimes life just sucks and there’s nothing you can do about it.
I guessed this was one of those times.
Back to TOC
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I owe a debt of gratitude to several writer friends who took the time out of their valuable day to read and give valuable feedback and encouragement on Second Story Man. Reed Farrel Coleman, SJ Rozan, Tim O’Mara, David Swinson, Michael Sears, Joe Clifford, Hank Phillippi Ryan, Rosemary Harris, and Mark Johnson. And special thanks to my oldest friend in the world (we can’t be that old, but we go all the way back to high school, and that’s been a while), Elliot Ravetz, who read this book in manuscript form and also gave me very valuable feedback.
Second Story Man Page 24