No one said a word and Hap finally exploded. “I saw that slippery hunker slider right there” Hap pleaded, pointing to the floor in front of the cabinets. “I’m telling you, that redheaded punk was no more than five feet from me stuffing little packages into a duffel bag.”
Meacham signaled for Hap to be quiet. He was pacing the room and rubbing his chin when he stopped abruptly. “Harold, I don’t doubt Hap for a second. What concerns me is that something is going on which made these guys change their plans. It’s as if they’re preparing to clear out, close down their operation here. Which means that we are very rapidly running out of time.”
“I’ll have all of the pictures by morning, Billy. Then, we can go straight to Judge Rozelle and lay it all out, just like you did for me this morning” said Grimsley.
“It’s clear now that we need to find Reisman and Gantz as quickly as possible. I just hope tomorrow is not too late” Meacham said, a concerned look on his face.
Both men looked back at Hap standing by the cabinets, leaning on his axe with a quizzical look on his face. Grimsley said, “Hey, Hap, you’re a regular Paul Bunyan but did you have to completely destroy the doors to smash open the locks?” Hap grinned and said, “No, but it sure felt damn good. As we Scots like to say, yaldi bawdeep!”
When Hap got excited, he started talking like his father, spouting old Scottish expressions – mainly insults – out of nowhere. Meacham and Grimsley walked away, smiling and shaking their heads. They got the gist of what Hap was saying and decided not to ask for translations.
***
Rudy couldn’t believe the dramatic change in Reisman’s attitude since their recent blow-up. They were all sitting in Rudy’s apartment in Port Ryan and Reisman apologized in front of the Clintocks for his harsh criticism of a few days ago. He went on to emphasize Rudy’s important role in their partnership. Moreover, Reisman had re-considered Rudy’s suggestion that they set up an operation in Parlor City and, to show his support, already had two more suitcases ready to move down there, more than enough to get business humming.
Rudy offered to immediately drive down to Parlor City with the suitcases but Reisman suggested that he should stay behind so that they could review some important financial details. It was agreed that the Clintocks would move this second cache of drugs down to Parlor City that night and Rudy would follow in a few days. After Rudy left town, it would be Reisman’s job to stay behind to close down the operation in Parlor Harbor.
Rudy was feeling good again. His relationship with Reisman was once again on a mutually-respecting level and he had saved face with the Clintocks. Soon, he would be running a profitable enterprise in his hometown while Reisman scouted out their next opportunity in Florida.
While Meacham and Grimsley were on Hap MacQuarrie’s boat staring at empty cabinets, the Clintocks were already on the road to Parlor City.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The Rapid Unraveling
Before the sun came up, the telephone range at Pritchard Cottage and Billy Meacham bolted out of bed.
It was Lt. Fogarty calling from Parlor City and when he said “Billy”, it sounded like a death knell. “What is it, Fogie? Talk to me” Meacham said earnestly, a pit forming in his stomach.
“We’ve got a bloodbath on our hands down here, Chief. It’s the Clintocks. Neighbors heard gunshots around midnight. It was like the St. Valentine’s Day massacre when we got inside. The parents were bound and gagged in a back room with their throats slashed. The Clintock boys must have been ambushed when they walked in. They each got it execution style in the back of the head. Looks like hollow points were used to incapacitate them quickly. They must have fallen like giant oak trees.
“The place was ransacked and those suitcases that Sweeney saw the boys bring home last week – nowhere to be found. These guys were professionals, Billy.” Fogarty stopped to let everything sink in. Even the hard-nosed, experienced Lieutenant was shaken by what he had seen and had to relive.
“Janey Mac” Meacham exclaimed. He paused to gather his thoughts and then asked, “Any sign of Gantz? We have an APB out on his car up here but maybe he headed down there to ……” Fogarty interrupted to say “We’ll start looking now. What else?”
“We’re getting real close here, Fogie, most importantly to clearing Woody. But what these college kids stumbled upon might be bigger than just Gantz and Reisman. The Clintock parents and Drebek all with their throats slit. It just doesn’t seem to be Reisman’s MO and is certainly not Rudy’s. If he’s not down there shaking in his boots, Gantz is probably hiding out somewhere in Parlor Harbor either on his own or with Reisman. If you need me, call Sheriff Grimsley. It’s a long story but we’re working together now. I’ll fill you in later.”
“Oh, one more thing, Chief. Neighbors heard gunshots around midnight. One of them said, and I quote, ‘we spotted a bean wagon and saw some wetbacks hanging around earlier in the day.’ When the neighbor asked what they wanted, one of them spoke broken English and said they were supposed to see a man about picking corn. He told them they were six weeks early and to move on. And that reminds me, Billy. Benny Mars called me yesterday to inform me that a few Spics – that was his word - came by looking for work at his bar. He thought it was a joke and shooed them away. He looked like he might soil his pants the last time I stopped by the Devil’s Corner so I figured the only reason Mars even called me was to appear cooperative. Now I’m wondering if there’s a connection.” “Me, too, Fogie” said Meacham.
Both men hung up without saying good-bye. At the moment, niceties didn’t seem appropriate or even necessary.
***
Meacham was back at Grimsley’s house the second straight morning and was greeted warmly by Lyla at the front door. “He’s on the phone. Come on back and have some coffee while I finish making breakfast. Harold seems raring to go. I have a feeling you guys will need your energy today.” She didn’t pick up on Meacham’s somber expression.
Grimsley hung up the phone as Meacham walked into the kitchen. “The pictures are ready, Billy, and __ “. Grimsley stopped short when he saw the look on Meacham’s face and motioned for him to go into the next room.
In a muted voice, Meacham said, “Gantz’ muscle, the Clintock boys, and their parents were murdered last night in Parlor City. Definitely a professional job. No sign of the redhead. Could be a double cross by Reisman or maybe we have some new players more ruthless than our boys. It’s just a hunch, Harold, but I’m thinking it’s just possible that either some local competition in Parlor City or Reisman’s old Mexican connection has caught up with him.”
Meacham told the sheriff about the two incidents involving the Mexicans showing up in Parlor City within a day of each other. Grimsley’s face darkened as he shook his head in disgust. At the direction of the mayor, his office had tolerated recreational drug use and small time dealing, especially among the spendthrift summer crowd. But this was something else. “The pictures are being dropped off at my office now. Let’s take a look at them and then call Judge Rozelle.” The men walked back into the kitchen and when Lyla saw the looks on their faces, she turned off the burner on the stove. She heard the word “sorry” but when she looked around to say she understood, the front door was already closing.
***
Nellie Birdsong was sitting at her desk typing away when Sheriff Grimsley walked in the door followed by Billy Meacham. She stopped in mid-sentence when Grimsley motioned for her to follow them.
Inside his office, Nellie stood nervously by the door trying to comprehend what was happening when Grimsley said, “Billy, it’s about time you met your anonymous tipster. Until this very moment, she didn’t know that I knew. Figured it out after we met yesterday. She’s a talented and, I would add, a brave young lady. She’s home from college for the summer and has been filling in for my regular secretary who is recovering from surgery. Nellie Birdsong, meet the Police Chief of Parlor City.”
Meacham’s mouth flew open and quickly turned into a wide
smile. He reached out and shook Nellie’s outstretched hand and held it as he said, “We’re getting close to solving this thing, young lady, thanks to you. Woody and Jerry mentioned your encounter that first night at Pappy’s. I can assure you, they will be very pleasantly surprised to learn that you turned out to be our guardian angel. Jerry took a ride on the Happy Scotsman and shot the roll of film that I left for you in the door. We are all very sorry about your cousin and the anguish your family has been put through. I guess our agony pales by comparison.”
“I feel badly for Ralph’s parents but knew I had to do the right thing. I’m sorry about the incident with my father. He’s really a good guy. Ralph was my cousin but I hardly knew him. I had the film developed and was going to put it in the door tonight. Tell Jerry he needs to work on his photography” Nellie said, smiling demurely. Meacham described Rudy Gantz but she had never seen him around town or with her cousin.
The outer door opened and Grimsley rushed out to greet the visitor, leaving Meacham and Nellie alone to smile awkwardly at each other. He walked back in with an envelope and said, “Let’s look at some pictures, Chief. Nellie, bring in the ones you developed for the Chief, now that we’re all on the same team.”
***
Meacham and Grimsley were leaving with the pictures for an impromptu meeting with Judge Rozelle, hoping to catch him in his chambers between trials, when a call came in that stopped them in their tracks. They walked back into Grimsley’s office and closed the door. Grimsley had the call patched through and put the phone on speaker mode.
The men listened as a polite, well-modulated voice said, “I believe you are looking for a red-headed gentleman by the name of Rudolph Gantz. If so, you will find him at 11 Robbins Lane in Port Ryan, ground floor apartment. Be careful, he’s probably armed.” The phone went dead before any questions could be asked.
Meacham and Grimsley rushed out the door. Judge Rozelle could wait.
***
Rudy had not heard from the Clintocks since they left Parlor Harbor. They were supposed to check in when they arrived home and had always been punctual. Rudy called to castigate them around midnight but there was no answer at the Clintock’ s house. With a large quantity of drugs, perhaps they were driving unusually slow but they still should have been in Parlor City hours ago. Could they have been pulled over by the County Mounties, he wondered?
When he called the Clintocks that morning, someone picked up the phone but said nothing so Rudy quickly hung up. Something was desperately wrong and Rudy had almost convinced himself to defy Reisman and drive to Parlor City.
Reisman had left him with two duffel bags filled with drugs for what was to be the final run on the Happy Scotsman. He would come by to retrieve them later that day. It bothered Rudy that Reisman had never confided in him as to where the major supply was kept. When he asked Reisman where he was holed up in Port Ryan, Rudy’s question was simply ignored. It slowly dawned on Rudy that everything Reisman did since their arrival in Parlor Harbor was cloaked in mystery. It was no way to treat an equal partner but that would all change soon.
The knock at the door startled Rudy. Nobody except Reisman and the Clintocks knew he was here – not even his parole officer. Rudy peaked through the curtains and saw Sheriff Harold Grimsley. He tipped away from the window and nearly panicked when he heard the floorboards creak as he crossed the room. He made it into the bedroom and quickly pulled on his shoes. His captain’s hat was lying on the bed and he pulled it low on his head, thinking that his alter ego would be a perfect disguise as he slipped out the back door.
The rapping on the front door grew louder and more rapid as Rudy crawled on hands and knees into the kitchen. He looked out at his tarp-covered Ford coupe in the alleyway. He took his car keys from the hook and slowly opened the back door. Down in a crouch, he scurried to the back of the car and watched as Billy Meacham came around the end of the building. Meacham slowly pushed open the back door and disappeared into the apartment, gun at his chest pointing up.
Meacham quickly searched the kitchen and living room before opening the front door to let Grimsley in. Using hand signals, he motioned for Grimsley to follow him. In each bedroom, Meacham threw open the closet door. Grimsley stood to the side, his gun now drawn. In the second bedroom closet, they saw two duffel bags on the floor.
“Hard to figure, Billy. If Gantz was here, how did he know we were coming? And why did he leave the drugs behind?” Grimsley and Meacham were now standing in the kitchen. They had unzipped the duffel bags and they were stuffed with small packets of what appeared to be marijuana. Meacham gazed out the kitchen window at the tarp-covered car and a smile creased his face. He put his finger to his lips and motioned for Grimsley to follow him out the back door.
In the alleyway, Meacham said, “Well, sheriff, if Gantz was here, he’s long gone. You probably want to put out an alert but my guess is that he is far away by now. Might even be headed home to Parlor City. I’ll notify our boys down there to be on the lookout.”
As Meacham was talking, he was motioning for Grimsley to lift the tarp off the car. Meacham circled around to the passenger side and, as the tarp came up, he jerked open the door. Lying on the floor in the back in a semi-fetal position was Rudy Gantz, his sailor hat covering the top of his face.
In seconds, Grimsley had opened the driver side door and was pointing his gun into the car. He looked across at Meacham who said, “Sheriff, I’d like you to meet the fearless Rudy Gantz. Looks like he’s doing some undercover work.”
***
Meacham let Grimsley do the honors of shackling Rudy Gantz and sitting with him in the back of Meacham’s car while they rode back to Parlor Harbor. While Rudy was being booked, Deputy Benjamin was driving to the state crime lab with a sample of the drugs taken from Rudy’s apartment. Meacham placed a call to one of the forensic odontologists recommended by Doc Sauer.
In the meantime, Jakob Reisman and his female companion were driving to Chicago to drop off a heavy load before crossing the border into Canada.
***
With Rudy safely ensconced in a cell, Grimsley called Judge Rozelle and caught him during a recess. He was instructed to drive to the courthouse immediately. Sitting in the judge’s chambers, Meacham allowed the sheriff to lay out the entire story, including the theory about the bite marks on Birdsong’s arm, adding an occasional detail when Grimsley would turn to him on a question posed by the Judge.
When Grimsley finished describing the string of events leading up to Gantz’ capture, he lowered his voice, looked down and then continued. “You both need to know that I met with Patchett the night we picked up the Meacham boy the first time. The D.A. strongly suggested that I might produce another witness or manufacture evidence to aid his case. He was not at all comfortable relying on the testimony of the old man. I let it go when I should have spoken up and then reported the incident. What I failed to do was wrong.”
After listening intently, Rozelle passed over Grimsley’s mea culpa and said, “Let me see the photographs.” The Judge leafed through them quickly but lingered over the ones showing Reisman and Melmotte exchanging valises outside the coffee shop, mumbling “son of a bitch” more than once. Studying the picture of Birdsong’s arm, he just shook his head. When he was finished, Rozelle sat back in his chair and looked down at his hands, tracing the lines in one palm with a finger as if he expected to find an answer in their random web. Finally, he said, “Okay, you can pick up your court orders this afternoon.
“Now, with respect to Patchett, I will handle it, gentlemen. One call to the Governor should suffice to get this incompetent and, most likely, venal boob replaced – starting with his immediate removal from this case. Malfeasance might be too polite a tag to put on his conduct. Everyone in town knows he’s just a puppet and the old lady pulls the strings.” Turning to Meacham, he said with genuine sympathy, “I’d like to immediately quash the indictment of your son based on the crime lab report on the steak knife but would like to have the additiona
l forensic evidence to which you alluded regarding this bum who you now consider the prime suspect. How long will it take?”
“The dental expert can be here tomorrow, your honor. We checked on his availability before coming here, pending your approval. We’ll ask him how long he needs to complete his analysis and let you know” said Meacham.
Rozelle shook his head in amazement and said, “So this Gantz character thinks he’s only going to be charged with drug possession with intent to distribute?” “Yes sir” Grimsley piped in. “From what the Chief has told me about this clown, he’s delusional among his many other shortcomings.”
As they were leaving, Rozelle grabbed Meacham’s arm and said, “Alfred Busbee is a top-notch lawyer with indisputable integrity. You tell him for me that if he is stone-walled in any way by the D.A.’s office, to give me a call. There’s going to be more than one trial in connection with this debacle but none of them will involve your son, I can promise you that. But some of these other jackanapes could use Albert’s services. Our friend Mr. Ozbert Patchett will not be the prosecutor for any of them but let’s keep a lid on this prediction for now since it is the governor’s decision. This is no time to get a bee in our bonnets.”
Outside, Meacham stopped Grimsley in front of the car and said, “That was big of you, what you said to the judge about that night at the Patchetts. He was right to let it go, sheriff.” Grimsley smiled and said, “I’ll stop over this afternoon and pick up the court orders. You should be feeling pretty good right about now, Chief.” Meacham nodded yes and then started to laugh, a full-throated one that he hadn’t experienced for some time. “What’s so funny?” asked Grimsley. Meacham was still laughing but managed to get out “jack a what and bees in a bonnet?”
***
A Murder In Parlor Harbor Page 18