There Was a Crooked Man

by K. J. Larsen

  “I can imagine.”

  “And then it’s like the old man figures it out. He knows where the son hid the stash. He walks over to this old grandfather clock, opens the glass door and there’s some kinda false bottom in there. He sticks a hand inside and comes out with this gold neck piece. It’s a lion and a bunch of jewels. You never seen so much bling.”

  “Is that all he found?”

  “I figure it was all there in the clock. The diamonds that was delivered that morning, all the pieces we was supposed to have nicked. It’s like the old man didn’t care about anything else. But he was over the moon nuts about the gold lion piece. I guess he thought it was gone for good.”

  “It was a gift from his grandfather.”

  “The old man says, ‘Tell me what my son owes you. I’ll pay it.’ Just like that. He wanted to make things right, then and there. And then Clive says, ‘Forget the money, we’ll take that gold medallion instead and call it even.’ Clive could be a jerk like that. I can see how he would look scary to a guy like Mr. Baumgarten. I would’ve talked Clive down. I wouldn’t have let him take it. But the old guy panicked. He takes the medallion and runs. We chase after him but…”

  Pops closed his eyes and shuddered. “There was a lot of blood. I had nightmares for weeks.”

  “Was Clive your brother-in-law?”

  “How do you get this stuff?” he said incredulously.

  “I’m a hotshot P.I.”

  I was showing off a little.

  “That’s a sleazy profession,” Saleen said as if hers wasn’t.

  “How did Clive die?” I asked.

  “The cops said he OD’d, but that was bullshit. Clive didn’t do drugs. He didn’t have a track mark on him.”

  “I’d like to look into it. What’s Clive’s last name?”

  “James.”

  “Is there anything you can tell me about the accident? The guy driving the van?”

  “For a hotshot detective, you don’t know so much. Here’s what I’ll tell you. Your captain and his good-for-nothing partner…”

  “That’s her dad,” Saleen blurted.

  His eyes narrowed. “So your coward pops sent you here to spy on us.”

  “Trust me. If Papa knew about you, he’d be here himself. And you wouldn’t be looking so good. Here’s where we are. Two partners were murdered. I’m investigating Danny’s death and my brakes are cut. Your life could be in danger too.”

  “No.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because I didn’t meet Clive’s contact.”

  “But Marco did?”

  “Once. I had a family. I didn’t want to know.”

  “Smart decision.”

  “Clive’s contact hooked us up with a dozen or more jobs. Our last job was the night he died. It was our biggest score ever. We were given an address and the combination to a safe. The safe had stacks of cash and jewels and some gold coins. Our take was three bundles of C’s and a sweet bag of rocks. The diamonds alone would set us up for a few years. Marco and I took our cash home and Clive held onto the diamonds. He knew a guy who could move them. We never saw him again. When the cops found his body, the diamonds were gone.”

  “Saleen, when I asked you who could’ve killed Marcus, who did you think of?”

  “Baumgarten. He’s gotta be Clive’s contact. I can feel it in my bones.”

  Pop rubbed the bridge of his nose. “After Clive died, Marco was scared. He didn’t think his contact killed Clive but he would’ve known who did.” Pop dashed an eye with the back of his hand. “They didn’t have to kill Marco. He wouldn’t rat anyone out. That’s how he was. But in the end, he knew too damn much.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  I called my brother from the car.

  “I need a favor, Bro.”

  “Sorry, Sis. I’m all out.”

  Rocco was a little pissy because I asked him to check out his new BFF, Cam Stewart.

  “I need the name of the cop who investigated an OD, September ’99. I have a few questions.”

  “What’s the druggie’s name?”

  “Clive James. Here’s the thing. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t a druggie. Somebody got away with murder.”

  “Won’t be the first time. Clive James. Got it. Who is he?”

  “One of the three guys in the bogus Baumgarten heist.”

  “So two of the three are dead.”

  There was the crash of pool balls in the background.

  Crap.

  “Who are you talking to?”

  My stomach churned. I knew that voice.

  “It’s Cat,” Rocco said. “She says hi.”

  “Liar,” I said.

  “You’re with Cam.”

  “And Jackson. We’re shooting pool and drinking a few beers. I’d invite you but there’s a reason they call it a man cave.” Rocco roared as if he’d said something hilarious. He’d had more than a few beers.

  “Forget it,” I said. “I’ll ask Bob.”

  “The captain?” Rocco roared again. “Good luck with that. I’ll call you with a name later.”

  “Yeah. Thanks”

  I hung up and an icy chill pierced through me. I couldn’t shake the eerie sensation that Cam’s dark eyes looked through me. It was time to steal my Glock away from all my Victoria Secrets.

  ***

  I found Papa in the backyard firing up the barbecue to burn more chicken.

  “Hi, Papa. How are you doing?”

  “A little better now that Sammy’s home. I’ve hardly slept since this bullshit started.”

  “It’s going to be all right.”

  “Bob said the man who kidnapped Sammy was murdered at the Dreamscape.”

  “I heard that.”

  “I didn’t do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “I didn’t kill the asshole. I wanted you to know.”

  “Good to know. What happened between you and Bob is your own business. Rocco and I will make sure it stays that way.”

  “Bob’s a good man, Caterina. He was my partner.”

  “I know.”

  “I’d do anything for him.”

  “Something tells me you already have.”

  He slapped some chicken breasts on the grill and smeared them with barbeque sauce. “Staying for supper?”

  “Sorry. I have plans. Do you remember a detective named Cameron Stewart?”

  Papa looked thoughtful. “I know who he is, that’s all. He wasn’t one to hang out or grab a beer at Mickey’s.”

  “Were there any complaints filed against him?”

  “Lots of cops get complaints. Cam could’ve had more than most. He wasn’t one to play by the rules.”

  “I heard he hurt his back. Draws a disability pension.”

  Papa shrugged. “Maybe he hurt his back. Maybe he didn’t.”

  “Tell me. My lips are sealed.”

  “Bob said Cam was under investigation by IA. When he wracked up his back and took the disability, they dropped their inquiry.”

  “So he dodged a bullet.”

  “There were serious conduct and procedural issues that would’ve opened his previous cases for scrutiny. It was a Chicago PD and public relations nightmare.”

  “He may have put away innocent people.”

  “It’s not right, I know. But it’s how the system works.”

  I kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Papa. Enjoy your supper.”

  “Mama will be home in a few minutes. She’s buying a dress for that boat cruise.” He shook his head. “Those women are cooking something up. Maybe you can get it out of her. I can’t.”

  I kissed his cheek. “I know exactly what they’re up to. That’s why I’m leaving.”

  ***

  Inga and I walked in the
park and shared a sleeve of crackers and cheese. We had an early night planned that involved a good book, a new squeaky toy, and my two favorite guys. That’s when I remembered I had dashed Ben & Jerry down the sink. As if nothing is sacred.

  I lay on the grass and thought about the missing lion medallion with emerald eyes. It was clenched in Danny’s hands when he bolted from the store. The first witness to reach Danny told Max she couldn’t recall a medallion. Max believed her.

  It seemed likely the medallion had been ripped from Danny’s hand when the van struck him. Someone could have pocketed it. And yet it was curious, after all these years, that such an extraordinary piece hadn’t found its way to auction.

  The sun warmed my face and my eyes were heavy. I listened to children play and the intervention of parents preventing bloodshed. As I drifted off, a warm, smothering tongue lurched me back. Four happy feet pranced on my chest. I opened my eyes and caught Sam I Am in my arms.

  Ellie Maxfield flopped beside me on the grass. She hugged Inga.

  Ellie is Captain Bob and Peggy’s daughter and one of my besties growing up. She went through a rough patch after high school and did a short stint in drug rehab. She turned her life around. Now she’s a junior partner in a prestigious law firm downtown.

  “How’s work?” I said.

  “Love it. I’ve never been so happy.”

  “You deserve it.”

  We watched a group of teenagers walk by. “I’m sending my parents on an apology cruise this year. I was a horrible teen, Cat. I hate that I put them through so much shit.”

  “You weren’t horrible. You were simply growing up. It’s a precarious process at best.”

  She smiled. “You’re a good friend. You never judged me.”

  “I love you, girl. You’re amazing. Bob and Peggy are enormously proud of you. Never forget that.”

  We clambered to our feet and walked around the park. Elle was silent a long time.

  “Okay, so spill it. Something is stressing you out. I have known you all my life, and you have never been good at hiding your feelings.” I smiled.

  She gave a little sigh. “I dropped by today and Dad is wound tighter than I’ve ever seen. Mom’s been crying. Something’s wrong with my parents and I don’t know what it is. They won’t talk about it.”

  She got that right. I’d been hounding Bob and Papa for days and their lips were sealed.

  Her lip quivered a little. “I think they could be getting a divorce.”

  It was so ludicrous I had to choke down a laugh. “Captain Bob and Peggy? Not a chance, girlfriend. Your parents love each other. They’re solid.”

  “People change, Cat. You should’ve seen them this morning.”

  “They’re dealing with a problem, obviously. But it’s definitely not their marriage. You can trust me on this.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I deal with divorce and betrayal every day. It’s what I do. I know when a couple’s energy is disconnected and damaged. Your parents are planning a future. Bob talks about their retirement plans all the time.”

  Her face scrunched with worry. “What could it be then?”

  I shrugged. “They might need a little time to sort things out. If they’re gloomy in a week or two, call me. We’ll do an intervention.”

  She smiled. “That’s some serious role reversal.”

  I laughed. “Karma’s a bitch.”

  “What should I wear to your moonlight cruise?”

  I winced. “Have you no compassion?”

  Elle laughed. “My mother figured it’s another one of your mama’s ambushes. You and Chance and a priest in the middle of Lake Michigan, and no way to shore.”

  “Trust me. I can swim.”

  “You have an amazing life. You have a successful career. And a serious hunka man-flesh you can boot home when you want. Why’s your mama so obsessed with you getting married?”

  “Revenge. Payback for thirty-four hours of excruciating labor. And then I poured ketchup and syrup all over her album collection when I was four. Maybe deep in her heart, Mama doesn’t want me to be happy.”

  “You’re funny. Or maybe she wants you two to be as happy and she and your papa are. I see how they look at each other.”

  “Right, huh? After decades, they still can’t keep their hands off each other.”

  Ellie made a gross face. “Eeeuw!”

  “I know,” I smiled. “It’s awesome.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  We were almost home when my cell vibrated in my jeans pocket. It was Rocco.

  “Yo!” He said. “I got a name and I didn’t have to turn on my computer.”

  “So you’re psychic now?”

  “Let’s say I have connections. You won’t believe this. The detective who investigated Clive James’ death was Cam.”

  “Imagine that.”

  “That’s a stroke of luck, eh? He overheard us on the phone and he remembered Clive’s name.”

  “I bet he did.”

  “I think Cam likes you.”

  “Really? I think he has a place for me on his mantle.”

  Rocco laughed. “Cam said stop by later or call if you have questions.”

  “Is he home now?”

  “He’s got a golf game. Tee time was six.”

  I checked my watch. It was almost six-thirty.

  “Jackson says he’ll go with you. He’s got a man-crush on Cam’s pool table.”

  I laughed. “Ya think?”

  “Anything else on your mind?”

  “Nah. I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

  “You weren’t gonna tell me about Marion?”

  I winced. “It’s a long story. I trashed Chinatown. I’ll buy you lunch tomorrow.”

  “Bring a lot of money. I spent an hour trying to calm Jack. He’s cut you off.”

  “God, no!”

  “He says you insulted his brake work. He sent your window back to the dealership. And he won’t fix your car. Ever.”

  I needed a paper bag. I was hyperventilating. “Maybe if I stop by and apologize again…”

  “It’s not safe. You’d have better odds driving Marion with no brakes.”

  “I can bring him a big Tupperware of cannoli. You know how Jack is with Mama’s cannoli. It can drop him to his knees.”

  “Okay. This could work. Remember, set the cannoli by the door and run.”

  “Gotcha.”

  I stuffed the phone in my pocket and raced to my bedroom. I tucked the 9mm in an ankle holster and strapped it under my jeans. I stuffed my lock picks in my pocket and raced across Bridgeport to Cam’s condo.

  I parked the Hummer on the street and walked to the door. I rummaged in my bag. When an older woman opened the door from the inside, a key was ready in my hand. I held the door for her and took the steps, two at a time, to the third floor. I knocked on Cam’s door and waited thirty seconds before letting myself in.

  My eyes swept the room, taking in the pool table, glimmering trophies, and an autographed baseball from Babe Ruth. Cam did very well for a guy on a disability pension.

  I rifled through his desk looking for bank statements or bills but was unsuccessful. Cam left no paper trail. His laptop was either with him or hidden away in a concealed safe. There wasn’t time to find it. I found a ledger in a secret compartment under his bed with columns of figures and words that were in some sort of code. I photographed a dozen pages and tucked the ledger back where I found it.

  I took in an obsessive number of selfies and electronics and sports mania with the growing conviction that Cam Stewart is a narcissist. His walk-in closet could well clothe a half dozen men. The sheer quantity of designer shoes was obsessive if not fetish. He appeared to have no interests outside of self-indulgence. There wasn’t a thought-provoking book on his shelf. The ex-cop a
ppeared to be, quite simply, the shallowest person I’ve ever met.

  And then something tugged at my awareness. It wasn’t a voice. It was more of a knowing. Cam the Ham was home. The sage-colored BMW was, at that moment, pulling into the garage. I’m not psychic and I don’t have super powers. But I didn’t doubt what I knew. To cover my bases, I said a quick prayer to San Malverde. The good saint helps thieves escape.

  The late reddish-yellow rays of the day’s sun streamed through the window and onto the mantle. It wasn’t the gold trophies or the art deco throughout the room that hooked me. It was the light that danced on the battered tin cup that was somehow stunning. Almost calling me to it. Cam had said it contained his ex-wife’s ashes. More accurately, it contained the burned remnants of their marriage certificate, her photos, and her art paintings. And yet it was the most valuable thing he owned.

  I hit the stairwell as the elevator door opened. I held the door a crack and watched Cam lug his golf bag inside. My heart pounded in my chest. I gave a high-five to my angels and shimmied to the Hummer.

  My world was magical that night.

  I stopped by Uncle Joey’s on my way home. He’s the most magical person I know.

  ***

  I slipped into a Minnie Mouse tee and brushed Inga’s teeth and then mine. I had a good book to read and a cup of hot chocolate by my bed. I tossed Inga a new chew toy from the basket in the hall closet. She leapt on the bed and I was half a step behind when the doorbell rang.

  It was too late for Girl Scouts to sell cookies, and friends are considerate enough to call first. It had to be my outrageous, interfering, Italian family.

  “Open up!” The voice belonged to my switched-at-birth sister. “Caterina, I know you’re in there!”

  I tromped to the window and peered through the curtain. No devil children. My Chihuly was safe.

  “I can see you!” Sophie sang. She waved two pints of Ben & Jerry’s.

  I swung the door open and she swept inside with my two favorite guys. I could’ve kissed her.

  That was a first.

  “I’ll get two bowls,” I said. “Whipping cream? Nuts? A cherry on top?”