There Was a Crooked Man

by K. J. Larsen

  Rocco and I would investigate the hit-and-run. We’d almost certainly uncover their secret and we’d do our best to keep it safe. Rocco was already finding it hard to accept the fact that Papa was shutting him out. In his mind, there’s a clear, bold line that separates the good guys from the bad guys. I hoped what we found wouldn’t diminish Rocco’s respect for our father or tarnish their relationship. And I really, really hoped Papa would never know I filched the file.

  As I walked to the car, I could hear Max and Sophie in the backyard. My sister was still groaning the boot camp blues.

  My bum vibrated as I slid behind the wheel in the car. I dragged my phone from my jeans pocket and checked the name on the screen. Savino.

  “Hey,” I said. “Are you calling to wow me with your fancy FBI facial recognition toy? Did you get an ID on Sammy’s kidnapper?”

  “Sorry, Babe, we got nothin’. The hood and shadow obscured too much of the subject’s face. I put a rush on the hair samples. Maybe we’ll get a match.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I ran a search on Daniel Baumgartner. Did you know his shop took a hit the week before he died? A midday smash and grab.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Three guys with ski masks and semi-automatics smashed display cases with wrenches. It was loud. A neighboring business called it in. Thought it was gunfire.”

  “Were they caught?”

  “They’re still out there. Daniel was out of town and his son was minding the store. I saw the camera shots. He looked scared. I think he peed his pants. The guy only graduated from college a few months earlier.”

  “It’s not something they cover in school. How big was the heist?”

  “Mega. The thieves knew exactly what to take. Daniel’s original pieces. All the high-end jewelry. And a dozen Rolex watches. The biggest loss was a family heirloom. Daniel often wore it under his shirt. A gold lion medallion with emerald eyes and canary yellow diamonds in its mane. It wasn’t part of the store inventory and was insured separately on Daniel’s home policy. Together, the insurance companies paid half a million bucks.”

  “That’s a lot of buckaroos. Thanks, Savino.”

  “What about dinner? How does a papaya salad and lemongrass soup sound?”

  “Like you were raised by pot-smoking hippies.”

  I heard him smile. “I thought I’d try some more of Tino’s love potion.”

  “You’ll have to wrestle Mr. Pickins for it.”

  “You gave Tino’s secret aphrodisiac to your neighborhood snoop’s husband?”

  “Guilty.”

  He laughed. “I’m guessing you did it for Mrs. Pickins.”

  “She’s damn cranky, for sure.”

  “You got that right.”

  “But it’s for Mr. Pickins too. I’ve never seen a smile on that man’s face.”

  “Well, I hope his is as big as mine.”

  “Every woman does.”

  I heard Sophie’s voice calling from the backyard gate. “Cat? Is that you?”

  “Gotta go,” I said tossing the phone.

  “Cat?” Sophie called.

  I fired the engine and hit the gas, pretending not to hear. I could see them both run to the street in my rearview mirror. Sophie stomped her Barbie foot. Max’s lips gaped open. I think he was mouthing Help!

  ***

  My favorite computer geek wore a huge smile. We were having lunch at Pleasant House and he was staring at his hot apple dumpling. It was melting his ice cream.

  “When I’m happy I eat dessert first,” Roger said.

  I stabbed my chocolate cake with a fork. “You’re the happiest guy I know.”

  Roger looked up from the dumpling. “I wasn’t happy when I met you. You saved my life when you introduced me to Ginny.”

  “And I love you for making my cousin happy.” I squeezed his chubby hand. “Let’s see what we can do for Sammy.”

  Roger was true to his word. Sammy’s imploring big brown eyes were up on my laptop before we finished dessert.

  Roger blinked and stuffed a bite of apple in his mouth. “What do these kidnappers want? If it’s money, I’ll pay it.”

  “Unfortunately, they want a rare piece of jewelry that Bob doesn’t have. He’s never even seen the piece. The kidnappers don’t believe him.”

  “Are they insane?”

  “Maybe, but I don’t think so. More likely they’re misinformed.”

  Roger punched more keys and we heard voices. It sounded like a Law and Order rerun on the motel TV. Detective Joe Fontana was talking. A toilet flushed in the background. There was a zip and a little whimper.

  A man’s voice said, “You gotta piss again? C’mon. I need some smokes anyway.”

  The screen went black and Sam was gone.

  “We have audio at least,” Roger said. “The clown slapped tape over the webcam but he didn’t think to disable the audio.”

  “Can you tell where they are?”

  “I will from my computer but it might take a little time. The guy’s security is like Fort Knox. Smart for a dumb ass.”

  “How about e-mails or social networks?”

  “There’s no history on the computer. It’s clean. Might’ve bought it last week.”

  “The weasel probably stole it.”

  “I’ll know if he gets careless and checks his e-mail. We’ll have him.”

  “Thanks, Roger.”

  “Try to negotiate a price with these clowns. They’re not getting the jewelry. In my experience, money is an equalizer. In the end, it makes everybody happy.”

  I smiled. Imagine that.

  ***

  Schaller’s Pump is Chicago’s oldest running tavern. Since 1881, its walls have been privy to a multitude of delicious secrets and sins. The Pump ran a horse-booking operation for decades. It was a Prohibition speakeasy, a second office for five Chicago mayors who hailed from Bridgeport.

  I called Rocco and asked him to meet me there. We had a few secrets of our own.

  I found a quiet spot in the back and slapped the copies of the file from Captain Bob’s briefcase on the table. We drank a pitcher of beer and Rocco, who never turns down food someone else pays for, gnawed on a butt sandwich. It’s a house favorite.

  The hit-and-run investigation had been thorough. Daniel Baumgarten had been well liked and his death was emotionally charged for the community. Witnesses were interviewed at the scene and some were questioned a second time. While fleeing the scene, the driver sideswiped a parked car. Samples of glass and paint were collected and forensics were able to identify the make and model of the vehicle that ran down the jeweler. The good citizens of Chicago were urged to report a white ninety-six or ninety-seven Chevrolet SUV with recent damage or repair to the right front bumper.

  My brother kicked his chair back. “If there’s a smoking gun here, I’m not seeing it.”

  I nodded. “What I don’t get is why Daniel was in the street. Was there something he was running to? Or from?”

  “Hit-and-runs are usually less sinister. The guy could’ve been preoccupied. Had a lot on his mind.”

  “The witnesses agree the hit was unavoidable. The hit-and-run driver should’ve turned himself in. Maybe get a fine and suspended sentence.” I stole one of my brother’s fries. “I wonder why he didn’t.”

  “Cuz he’s a coward. And maybe he was drunk. Or driving under a suspended license. Could’ve had warrants. No insurance. Or all of the above.”

  “Maybe he had a mistress in the car.”

  Rocco grinned. “You’re such a hootchie stalker.”

  “Savino learned there was a major heist at Baumgarten’s a week before the hit-and-run. It’s surprising the robbery isn’t in the file.”

  “Not if the investigators concluded that the events were unrelated.”

&n
bsp; “How could they know that for sure? Daniel Baumgarten could’ve been depressed after the robbery.”

  “And he ran into the street deliberately? You’re suggesting suicide?”

  “Not suggesting. Just sayin’. It’s odd behavior.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What happened to Daniel’s shop? Was it sold?”

  “It went to Daniel’s son, Robert. He had a business degree from Harvard. He expanded after his father died. He has branches in Glenview and Wheaton. And he operates an online store.”

  “I’m impressed you know this.”

  “Google is my friend. I stayed up late.”

  “Did you learn anything else?”

  “I learned I’m not doing that again. Maria didn’t wait up for me. She wasn’t happy.”

  I laughed. “Do you have time for another short stop before you go home and make it up to her?”

  “Where are we headed?”

  “Baumgarten’s. We’ve got questions. And if Daniel’s son is as smart as you say, he’ll have some answers.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Robert Baumgarten was trying to close a sale when Rocco and I sailed into Baumgarten Jewelry. A half-dozen sparkling diamonds on a soft black velvet cloth almost danced under special fluorescent bulbs. The romantic background music could’ve had subliminal “buy buy buy” messages behind the saxophone. The bride-to-be sighed happily. She was buying it. The groom, not so much.

  “Here!” she said. “I want this one!”

  Her perfectly manicured finger pointed to the biggest, dazzling diamond on the black velvet cloth. It was a showstopper and it made my eyes pop.

  The jeweler’s lips spread ear to ear.

  The bride swept her long blond hair from her face. She went blink blink at the groom.

  “Okay, Baby?”

  He looked scruffy, as if she’d dragged him away from his job at the car wash to pick out a ring.

  “I told you, Babe. I got your diamond here. We want this guy to make a new ring with it.”

  He waved a diamond ring in her face. Her eyes went cold but she worked her full Botox-infused lips into an adorable pout.

  “I want my own diamond.”

  His face twitched a little. “It’s your diamond now.”

  “That’s your mama’s ring. Or so you say,” she added.

  Rocco and I exchanged glances. It seemed likely the guy found a cheap ring at a pawn shop. Or even cheaper in a burglary.

  The groom’s fist slammed the display case.

  The jeweler winced. “That’s glass.”

  “Take it,” the groom said. “My mother yanked this ring off her finger when dad ran off with the nanny.”

  “I won’t wear it. That ring is cursed. Diamonds absorb negative energy.” She turned to the jeweler. “Isn’t that right?”

  He gave a little nod and shrugged apologetically to the groom. “Good and bad energy, actually.”

  “And your mama’s energy ain’t good,” she said.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said, Your. Mother. Is. A. Witch.”

  Holy crap, I thought.

  His voice became terrifyingly quiet. “Take. It. Back.”

  “Witch! Witch!”

  He lunged at her, seizing her shoulders and shaking her like a rag doll. Rocco dragged him off her and over to a table where contracts are signed. It was the only surface that wasn’t glass. He shoved him on a chair and flashed a badge. The groom’s lip curled and his eyes grew sullen.

  But I saw fear in the bride’s.

  Rocco took a step toward the sulky groom. “Don’t make me arrest you for being stupid. The lady doesn’t want the ring.”

  He growled. “Okay. I got it, already.” He knocked his head toward the door. “We’re outta here, Babe.”

  Rocco stepped aside.

  “Wait. Not so fast,” I said. “Botox here needs to empty her pockets.”

  The jeweler glanced down at the velvet black cloth and gasped. “My diamonds!”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Bonnie here palmed them when Clyde threw her against the case.”

  She hurled hate-darts with her eyes. “Bee-itch!”

  She stuffed a hand in a pocket and tossed the rocks back on the counter. She turned suddenly and made a dash for the door. The jeweler scooped them up and kicked something with his shoe. A loud, metallic sound resonated from the door.

  “We’re locked in,” Robert Baumgarten said. “The cops are on their way.”

  And then he began locking all the glass cages as if cops posed the greatest threat of all.

  “Isn’t this cozy?” Rocco smiled and dragged out the handcuffs.

  My Cousin Frankie was the first responder. He charged into Baumgarten’s with a hand on his holster, ready to shoot somebody. His eyes take on a disturbing glaze when he handles a gun. It’s one reason why the FBI turned down his application. There were many.

  Luckily for Frankie, an eagerness to shoot people wasn’t a problem for the Chicago PD. They gave him a badge and a really big gun.

  Leo and the rookie Tommy arrived next. Everyone loves Leo. He’s older than dirt and his joints have grown stiff. They make a good team. Tommy is young and good natured and does what Leo tells him. He chases down the bad guys. Leo surrendered the squad car keys after an unfortunate incident involving a cat, a dog, and a woman’s prized magnolia tree. Only the magnolia didn’t survive.

  Leo dreams of retiring to Florida winters and marathon reruns of Hill Street Blues. Papa says he’d be out of here tomorrow if his wife wasn’t home all day.

  Detective Ettie Opsahl brought up the rear. Her lips almost turned up in a smile when she saw Rocco. But not enough to crack her pinched face.

  And then she cast her evil eye in my direction. Ettie has a scathing contempt for private detectives in general and the Pants On Fire Detective Agency in particular. Her pants haven’t seen a spark since Bill Clinton was President.

  “Good work, DeLuca,” she said to Rocco. “These clowns have hit a dozen south side businesses. I’ve been chasing them for months.”

  “Thank Cat,” Rocco said. “She nailed your guys for you.”

  Ettie tried to say something but the words came out in a strangled choke. I thought her face would melt.

  “You’re welcome,” I said.

  Frankie filled out the police report. Everyone was concerned about Rocco’s choking incident except Tommy. And he wasn’t talking.

  “Goddamn scary to see you like that,” Leo said.

  “Goddamn gross,” Cousin Frankie said. “If you croaked like that, I’d always remember you like that. Blowing foamy bubbles. It’s sick, man. I gotta purge my brain.”

  “What brain?” I said.

  “It changes a man when he cheats death like that,” Rocco said. “For a moment there, my life flashed in front of my eyes.”

  “You had an NDE,” Leo said. “A near death experience. I’m glad you made it back.”

  The groom snorted. “If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t be sittin’ here.”

  “You wouldn’t be sitting here if you weren’t a schmuck,” Ettie said.

  “Did you see a tunnel?” Tommy said tongue-in-cheek. “Was there a bright light?”

  “The place was lit up like Christmas,” Rocco said.

  “Was Grandpa DeLuca there?” Frankie asked. “Is he still mad at me?”

  “Choke on your own jerky and ask him,” I said.

  Leo dropped a heavy hand on Rocco’s shoulder. “When you were over there, did they give you a message to bring back?”

  Rocco nodded and the room went still. No one breathed.

  “I should have more sex. And I intend to take it up with Maria.”

  ***

  When the others had gone, Robert Baumgarten turned on his OPEN sign again and
blew a long-suffering sigh.

  “Are you still here?” he said.

  “We have a few questions about the day your father died,” Rocco said. “We will be brief.”

  “Have you found the man who killed my dad?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Rocco said.

  “There’s a suspect? New evidence?”

  “Regrettably, no.”

  “But you’re reopening the case?”

  “Not yet.”

  Robert looked tired. “Please go away. You’re wasting my time.”

  I butted in. “Mr. Baumgarten, we’re taking a fresh look at the incident that killed your father. We’ve been contacted by a man who claims Daniel was in possession of the gold lion medallion when he died.”

  The color drained from Robert’s face. “That’s not possible.”

  “The witness insists he saw the medallion in your father’s possession. Is it possible one of the thieves offered him a deal? Could Daniel have purchased the item back?”

  “Ridiculous.”

  “It happens.”

  “Tell us what happened the day your father died.”

  “It’s a question I ask myself every day. Dad never left the shop unattended. I wish I knew why he went outside or what he doing in the street. Felix got a good look at the van. He was washing windows when it happened. Dad used to give him odd jobs.”

  “Felix?” I said.

  Rocco elbowed me hard in the ribs. He was telling me to keep my mouth shut. When Robert turned away I slugged him back. That was me telling him I’m not an idiot.

  There had been no record of a “Felix” in the police report. No report of a man sweeping the sidewalk and witnessing a van hit his friend. Rocco and I were ten minutes into our first interview and we already smelled a giant cover-up.

  What did this man see that was awful enough to make Papa and Bob omit evidence and falsify their accident report? Who would they risk protecting at the highest cost possible to their careers? It was no wonder Bob was frantic and Papa was chewing his nails again. Even now, if the CPD learned an officer hijacked an investigation, the facts could cost his job and his pension. And possibly criminal charges as well.