by Vicki Vass
“According to the real study, building a retention pond in the woods would cause damage to the ecosystem and wildlife as well as increased flooding on the east side of Woodland View,” Sherman stopped. “There’s a ten percent grade from the forest preserve down to Central Avenue. All those houses on the east side of town would be negatively impacted by the retention pond.”
“Was there anything about the contaminated water?”
“What contaminated water?”
I forgot that Sherman didn’t know about the frogs and the sewage. I explained it to him.
“There’s nothing in the report about contaminated water. I can speak with the Army Corps,” he said.
“I think the people you need to speak with are Chicago Premium Construction. They are the ones that put the new sewer pipes in a few years ago on Linden Avenue, and I think the ones who sent the message to Sabatini’s family. His family has a long relationship with Chicago Premium Construction. The Benetti family and the Sabatini family have mutual business interests.” There was nothing left to hold back anymore. In for a penny, in for a pound. I’d have to trust Agent Peabody if I was going to save my neighborhood. I don’t give my trust easily. It has to be won but Sherman won it.
Chapter Thirty-One
I watched James zest a lemon. He was making his three-layer lemon cake with the cream cheese frosting. I was helping by reading him the directions from the Martha Stewart cookbook. He was very precise and felt it necessary to follow every step exactly. I usually add everything based on sight. We took a break for coffee and scones. Not my favorite but James made them fresh. They were good slathered with butter.
“So, I heard the police don’t have any leads on Alderman Sabatini’s murder,” James said, sipping his French press coffee which was almost as strong as my Jewel Eight O’Clock Extra Bold. “You don’t believe that, do you, Jan? You know something, don’t you? I think it’s time you come clean.”
“I’m not sure what you mean, James.”
“I’ve seen you talking to that cute FBI agent, and I know you well enough to know that you want to protect our block. I feel the same way, so much tragedy on our little street. Linden Avenue has become my home, and I want to do whatever I can to help.”
“James, last year when the survey engineer came out to draw up the plans for the new retention pond I was speaking to him and found out his last name is Benetti,” I said. “He’s related to a family from my old neighborhood in Chicago on Taylor Street. They have their hand in everything in Chicago – construction, nightclubs, and restaurants. They do everything the Chicago way – bribes, payoffs, and a lot of people looking the other way. It’s an understanding.” I paused. “I found out that Alderman Sabatini’s family works with the Benettis. They have a concrete company. When I confronted the Alderman after the meeting about it, he told me Chicago Premium Construction, the Benetti’s company, submitted the lowest bid. As you know, it’s a closed bid process. The bids are supposed to be secret to ensure all the companies give their lowest price for the work. I can’t prove it but I think Alderman Sabatini gave Chicago Premium Construction the sealed bids.”
“How can you prove that Alderman Sabatini was involved?” James asked, checking the timer on the stove.
“I found out through Agent Peabody that the environmental impact study that Alderman Sabatini filed was a fake. The real study states that the retention pond would be hazardous not just to the wildlife but would cause more flooding in our neighborhood.”
“That’s horrible. How could he do that to his neighbors? His house backs up to the woods next to mine. They’ve had flooding. Why would he do that?”
“They were moving out of Woodland View,” I told him. “The day of the garage sale I went over to talk to Alice to see if she wanted to sell anything. She was very nervous when she came to the door. I could see moving boxes in the hallway behind her. The next day I overheard her and the Alderman fighting. She took off in a cab. She didn’t come back until the funeral.”
James stood up, walked to the oven to check the cake and then leaned back against the oven door, facing me.
“Alice said she begged him to go with her. She knew the flooding was going to get worse, and I think she knew that they were in danger. Alderman Sabatini was going to leave town, and the people that killed him couldn’t let him do that,” I said.
He stared at me. “You can’t be serious. Do you think the killer thought he was going into witness protection? That he was going to talk?”
“Where I come from either of those is a death sentence.”
James came back to the table, sat down. I sipped my coffee. When the timer went off, he pulled the cake out of the oven. He frosted it, decorated it with fresh lemon slices and lemon drops. He placed it on a glass cake platter. “Remember, I want the platter back,” he said. “You sure you don’t want me to bring it next door with you?”
“No, I need to speak to Alice alone.” I picked up the cake platter. “James, it’s a masterpiece.”
“Thank you. Glad to be of service.” James walked me to the door. I carried the cake plate. I left his house and stepped across the front lawn to the Sabatini’s front door. I knocked. There was no answer. I knocked again. After a few minutes, I heard footsteps down the stairs and then the door slowly opened. Alice was a mess. There were no other words to describe her. Her hair was matted and unwashed. She was wearing black except for Alderman Sabatini’s blue velour robe. She looked like she needed a shower. Not her usual polished self. My heart went out to her. I bore the same pain after Gino died. She didn’t speak.
I held up the cake platter. “I thought you might need something sweet,” I said.
She paused, opened the screen door and took the cake platter. “Thanks,” she said.
“Can I come in?” I asked.
“I’m not up for company,” Alice said, reaching to close the door.
“Wait,” I said, holding my hand up to the door. “We should talk.”
She waved me in. I stepped into the large foyer and stood under the gleaming crystal chandelier. Alderman Sabatini flew it in from Italy along with the marble tile floor. All to make his bride happy. Now the marble floor was covered with brown moving boxes, all taped up and labeled for shipping. Alice saw me looking at the boxes and said, “I’m moving to Arizona. I’m staying with my son and daughter-in-law until my house is ready.”
“Your house?”
“I bought. . . we bought a townhouse outside of Phoenix. Originally we were just going to go over the winter months but I decided I wanted to live there all year,” Alice said, still awkwardly holding the cake platter.
I took it back from her. “Let’s take this into the kitchen,” I said. She led the way into her custom kitchen. It was spotless, stainless steel, cherry cabinets, granite counters. I knew she didn’t cook here. Like most Italian homes, there were always two kitchens; one for show and the other in the basement for cooking. This one was just for show. “Sit down,” I said. I searched through the cabinets but they were empty. I couldn’t find any tea, cups or plates. Alice had packed the kitchen already. “How did Angelo feel about moving to Arizona?” I asked.
She started crying and buried her hand in her face. I walked over next to her and put my arm around her. “Now, dear.”
“The last words Angelo ever heard come out of my mouth were I’m leaving with or without you.”
“Alice, don’t blame yourself. Angelo knew you loved him. You really must have been upset to want to leave.”
Alice stood up and left the room. I didn’t know if I should follow her or stay. I sat in my chair. A few minutes later I heard her shuffling steps and she came back into the kitchen holding a manila envelope. She handed it to me and sat back down.
I opened it up and pulled out a sheaf of bound papers. It was an environmental impact report addressed to Alderman Sabatini.
“I told Angelo that he couldn’t do this to the neighborhood,” she said through her tears. “I’m just as g
uilty. I wanted the big house. I wanted the nice clothes. I wanted the new car every year. He did this for me. For our family. And then he got in too deep. They wouldn’t let him go.”
“Who wouldn’t let him go?”
“Angelo never talked about his work, and I tried to hide my head in the sand. I knew it wasn’t right. You have to go now,” Alice said, standing up.
Holding the manila envelope, I followed her to the door. “Good luck,” I told her. “You’ll be okay.” I hugged her and stepped out onto the porch. She closed the door behind me and I heard the distinct click of the deadbolt.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Sipping my morning coffee, I read through the three hundred-page report. The only paragraph I understood was the one that stated increased flooding, wildlife at risk. According to the report, the construction of a retention pond would increase flooding on the east side of Woodland View. Our peninsula, Linden Avenue, received all the rainwater from the surrounding woods then drained out into the forest and made its way back to Central Avenue almost six blocks away. A retention pond would make matters worse.
I finished my raspberry sweet roll from Kean’s Bakery and thought about my next step. Alderman Sabatini was dirty like I knew he was. He was taking bribes from Chicago Premium Construction. Gary must have found out and was blackmailing Sabatini. I knew Sabatini wasn’t a killer. At this point, all roads were leading back to Taylor Street and Chicago Premium Construction.
After putting a pork roast in the crockpot and leaving a note for Valerie, I loaded up my 2006 Saturn with supplies. I checked my list: Louisville Slugger, check; thermos full of Jewel Eight O’Clock Extra Bold, check; Stella D’Oro cookies, check; binoculars, check; flashlight, check; pad of paper and Gino’s fountain pen, check. It was nearly 3 p.m. before I headed down the Eisenhower on my way to the headquarters of Chicago Premium Construction on Harlem Avenue.
Located on almost a full block, Chicago Premium Construction’s lot was surrounded by a ten-foot high chain link fence. There were several bulldozers, bobcats, dump trucks, and semis with trailers. The only office I could make out was a doublewide trailer with a sticker on the side that read Chicago Premium Construction. After driving around, I parked a safe distance so as not to be seen. I took out my binoculars. The window in the trailer blinds were up. I could see inside. There were two men walking around back and forth in front of the window. I couldn’t make out who they were. 7:30 p.m. The sun was going down. Lights went on inside the office trailer. I could see sitting behind the desk a face I recognized. It was Christopher Benetti, the engineer I spoke with. His uncle, Joe, was the head of the family and all the Benetti Companies. And, is godfather to Alderman Sabatini’s aunt. Taylor Street is a small neighborhood but its reach is far. I made notes in my pad and opened my thermos. I drank another cup of coffee and ate a couple cookies.
Nine p.m. I saw a white panel van pull up in front of the gate. Two men came out from the guard shack and unlocked it. I didn’t see them at first but then the motion lights turned on by the front gate. I took a closer look through my binoculars and recognized them. One was small with a cast on his arm, a black eye and bloody lip. The big man was limping, his face cut up and bruised. They let the white panel van in, relocked the gate and returned to the guard shack hidden behind a bulldozer. I watched the white panel van drive up to the office trailer. Then I watched Koji Hiro exit the van and walk into the office. He shook hands with Chris Benetti.
A tap on my window startled me. I nearly dropped my hot coffee on my lap. I turned my head and saw Agent Peabody looking through my driver window. He did not look happy. He motioned to roll my window down, which I did. “Jan, what are you doing here?” He asked.
“Sherman, get in the car. They’re going to see you,” I said.
He came around and sat in the passenger seat.
“Sherman, what are you doing here?” I asked Agent Peabody.
“I’ve been trailing Koji Hiro.”
“Why?”
“He was a person of interest from the postman’s murder. He was spotted near the crime scene that morning. He lives next door to where the murder was committed. And he has a history.”
“What history?”
Agent Peabody was silent.
“Look, Sherman, we’re too far into this to stop now,” I told him. “I can’t help you unless I know all the facts.”
“Ten years ago Koji Hiro was working as a consultant on the levee project in New Orleans. There were several unsolved murders in the area at that time. The victims were all bludgeoned to death.” Sherman hesitated. “Like Gary the postman. That was the only clue that connected the victims. And then ten years later Koji Hiro shows up in Woodland View, a town that has never had a murder. Now there are two murders within three houses of Koji Hiro’s.” He turned to me.
“Why would Mr. Hiro want to murder Gary or Alderman Sabatini?” I asked.
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” he said and then asked me. “What are you doing here?”
I handed him the Army Corps impact study. “Alice Sabatini gave this to me,” I said. “Gary was blackmailing Alderman Sabatini, and Sabatini was working for Chicago Premium Construction.”
“Chicago Premium Construction was the consulting company that Koji Hiro worked for in New Orleans and now in Woodland View,” Agent Peabody said. “There was an investigation after Katrina into the construction of the levees. There was evidence of bid tampering and criminal negligence.”
“There is here, too. The sewer system that Chicago Premium Construction built in Woodland View last year is supposed to be separate from the rainwater drainage system. But it’s not. There’s raw sewage mixing with the rainwater. I brought Alderman Sabatini proof. I showed him the contaminated water coming out of the storm drain in the woods.”
“You told this to Sabatini?”
“Yes, that was a day before I was attacked.”
“What attack?”
“Those two.” I pointed at the two men who opened the gate for Koji. “They attacked me on Linden Avenue but Koji and I took care of them.”
“Koji? If he is working for these men, why would he help you?”
“I think Koji is dirty but he’s not a murderer,” I said.
“Even if he didn’t kill the postman or Sabatini, he’s still involved with Chicago Premium Construction. They brought him here for a reason and I need to know what that reason is. As far as I’m concerned he’s still under suspicion.”
I disagreed with Agent Peabody. I believed that Koji wasn’t a murderer but my gut feeling wasn’t enough for Agent Peabody. “They’re starting construction on the retention pond tomorrow. We can’t let that happen,” I said.
“I can’t get a stay order without giving away our investigation, and we don’t have enough evidence to arrest Hiro or Benetti. There are a lot of loose ends to tie up. For now I have to keep watch.”
“This is happening in my neighborhood. I’m the neighborhood watch,” I said.
We watched Koji leave the office and get into his van.
Sherman reached for the door handle. “Head home, Mrs. Kustodia. We’re handling this.” Sherman got out of the car and closed the door.
I started the car and headed toward home. I reflected on what he said. I didn’t trust the FBI to handle neighborhood business. It was up to me to stop the retention pond and protect Linden Avenue.
It was late by the time I turned onto Linden. The street was dark. I slammed on my brakes to avoid what I thought was a deer crossing the road. I shone my brights and I saw Amaya wearing the white kimono with the purple lotus blossom. She was holding a candle inside a small wooden ship. I threw the car in park and jumped out. “Amaya, are you okay? I didn’t see you.”
She backed away toward her house and went through the side yard toward the back yard. I was worried she was in shock after nearly being run over. I followed her. I watched as she knelt down by the koi pond. She raised her head to the sky. It was a full moon, a clear n
ight as she sang in Japanese. I watched in silence.
“Jan,” I heard a voice from behind me. I jumped out of my skin and turned around. It was Koji. He held his finger up to his lips, motioning for me to be silent. We watched as Amaya placed the boat with the lit candle in the koi pond. She placed it gently into the water. It floated across the pond. “Tonight is the anniversary of Amaya’s twin sister’s death,” Koji whispered. “Her spirit wanders the earth, hungry, tired and scared. When she and Amaya were young, they were raker apprentices at the Kyoto gardens. Amaya admired her sister’s skill. She wanted to be as talented an artist as her sister. Amaya made her sister stay late so she could practice. They did not see the man until he stepped onto the sand. He beat them until they were nearly dead. Then he turned to Amaya’s sister and assaulted her while Amaya managed to crawl away and hide. She watched as her sister’s blood, her spirit, poured onto the sand. Her light was extinguished. Each year on the anniversary of her death, she releases the ceremonial candle. The candle represents her sister’s spirit. Once the candle is extinguished, her sister’s spirit is released to go to the next world.”
“Koji, I’m so sorry. It’s such a horrible story.”
He walked away from me, knelt down next to Amaya, whispered softly to her and picked her up. Her skin was translucent in the moonlight, her black hair shone. His eyes were transfixed on hers. He looked at her like Gino had looked at me. I stood for a moment, watching the boat until the candle blew out. Koji carried her into the house. I felt a cool chill down my back. The woods cool off at night but this felt different. This wasn’t a chill from the woods. It was something much deeper.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Beep, Beep, Beep.” My alarm clock. I reached over to the nightstand and felt around. Then I remembered I don’t have an alarm clock. I jumped out of my bed, stepped into my small living room. Out my front window I could see the yellow of the trucks through the trees in the forest.