Where There's a Will ....There's Murder

by Julie Ramson

  There were several old newspaper articles on him, listing him as part of the mob. He had been arrested for several petty thefts, but not much else. One article stated that he had worked for a small time gangster in Cicero, Lefty Three Fingers. Lefty had run the prostitution rings in Cicero and had one son, Vito. Vito was about 20 years younger than Herbert and had taken over his father's position upon Lefty's death.

  Odd. Typically, the mob did not hire outside their family. Interesting that Herbert worked for them. What was his role with the prostitution rings?

  Just out of curiosity, I then checked Louie Bacci on the internet and was surprised when I got over fifty hits. This was the man murdered the day after Lily – and with the same gun.

  I started reading. He was the nephew of Lefty Three Fingers. He had a long string of articles about him. Some were small and just listed minor arrests for running the prostitution ring with Lefty but some were longer. Two articles addressed the two times he had been charged with murder, once for the suspected murder of a prostitute and once for the alleged murder of a rival gang member, who, the article implied, had tried to muscle in on Lefty’s territory. There was one picture of Louie as a young man coming out of a restaurant. It was a close up, probably with some kind of zoom lens. He was a beefy looking man, paunchy even in his younger years. He had a cigar in his mouth and his hand was lifted, lighting it. He wore a big gold ring with some kind of gold symbol on it. I looked closer. It looked like it might be a ring with a serpent.

  Just like the ring found in the wooden box. I knew the skeleton wasn’t Louie because he had just died. No wonder Sean thought the skeleton and crate from last summer had mob ties.

  The most bizarre news article involved an arrest for assault - but the arrest of Vito, not Louie. Vito had attacked Louie with a knife. Shades of his father! No reason for the assault was known. The charges were later dropped. Vito and Louie were reported as “possible members of the mob, known to be associated with Herbert Hastings and Tony Corelli. Who was Tony Corelli? At the end of his life, Louie appeared down on his luck, broke and living in a slum boarding house. He was murdered by unknown person or persons. I made a note to google Tony Corelli later.

  I eyed the police files on the table. Pouring more coffee, I turned to them. I found Louie Bacci's. It was thick. The police reports were concise and done in cop shorthand. He’d been found murdered on December 3. One gunshot to the head. No witnesses, no fingerprints, no clues. Louie was a small time hoodlum, nephew of Lefty Three Fingers. He had numerous arrests for assault, battery and running prostitution rings. Reading between the lines, it sounded like he ran the money for Lefty. He was 68 years old, about four years younger than Herbert Hastings would be, had he lived. There were two arrests for attempted murder but both cases had been dropped when the witnesses somehow disappeared. The report noted had also worked with other small time hoodlums, including Herbert Hastings.

  Now that was interesting.

  I continued reading the file. Just like Sean, others thought there was a connection with Louie to the wooden box and skeleton found last summer in a forest preserve on the west side. The box had been found by two brothers, Stevie and Bobby Harris. They were 10 and 12 and had been playing near a ravine. It was thought the box had been buried and surfaced during a storm. Police determined that the skeleton had been in there about 25 -30 years.

  Louie's autopsy report stated that he was well on his way to death without the bullet. His liver was shot, filled with fatty and fibrous tissue - and cancer. His heart was enlarged and all his arteries were clogged well over 90%. Louie may have been murdered but it didn’t shorten his life by much.

  There were numerous pictures of his dead body in the file along with pictures of the crime scene. I studied them and gasped. I picked up the file and took it to the window. I got a magnifying glass. There was one picture of Louie lying on the floor in a pool of blood. In the background was a small table with a photo on it. I couldn’t tell for sure, but it looked like the same picture of three men that I had seen at Lily Hastings’ house. I needed to see that picture again.

  So, now what? Do I call Sean and Digs? Drive out to Cicero alone? If I did that, the chances were slim that I could get in to Louie’s room at the boarding house anyway. I decided to have a cookie while I thought. Killer looked up hopefully when I got up. “No way, Pal. These cookies aren’t going to last forever, you know.” But I did relent and get him a couple of dog biscuits. He snarfed them right down but gave me a reproachful look anyway.

  I wandered around the kitchen, munching and thinking. Since I probably couldn’t get into the crime scene in Cicero, I could at least try to get the photo of the three men from Lily’s.

  Problem: Risking another breaking and entering of Lily’s house would strain Sean and Jimmy’s and Digs’ patience .....probably past the breaking point. Forget what stealing a photo from a crime scene would do to them. Rationalization: I wanted that photo. Not a very good rationalization. I tried again. Rationalization: If the photos matched it would confirm the connection between Lily’s and Louie’s murder. It would help solve the cases - maybe. That was better. I would go with that one.

  I got my jacket and Killer padded to the door behind me. I started to say no, but then decided that he would be a good companion if I got caught. Who would think someone with a large, goofy dog in the car was on a breaking, entering and stealing mission? Not that I was on that mission, of course. I was helping the police. Besides, I would be in and out of the house in seconds. I knew where the photo was and that’s all I would look for. It was broad daylight!

  It was broad daylight the other day when you were attacked too, a small voice in my head said. Yeah, but it was a dark, grainy, sleety day. This was a brighter day. Therefore, safer.

  I stopped on the way for a vente Starbucks and a pecan roll. I needed fortification. I got Killer an egg thing. He didn’t need sticky nuts. I drove to Lily’s slowly, carefully checking to be sure no one was following me. This time I parked around the corner and put Killer on his leash. Just a girl walking her dog. Killer and I paused in front of Castelletti’s house. What a mess! Charred remains, some still giving up wisps of smoke, filled the small lot. The stench of smoke was everywhere. A couple of walls of the house were still standing. Sort of. They didn’t look very sturdy, however. I walked around the mess, as if casually inspecting it. It was cordoned off with yellow crime tape and the footprints all around it were fresh. Clearly the police had been here checking the house too. At the moment, however, they were gone.

  Lily’s lot was littered with debris and charred pieces of wood and ash. The back porch beckoned and I couldn’t resist. I walked over and up onto the porch. The window next to the door had been boarded up again. Damn. I stood there a minute, trying to decide if I could re-break in and re-enter. I really wanted to. I wanted that photo. I peered through the small window in the back door and saw movement inside. What was that? Yow! I was out of there! I started backing my way off the porch. Before I had a chance to move very far, the door flew open and Emily stood there.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Emily! I've been looking for you!” I cried. I was shocked.

  “Hush, get in here!” She grabbed my arm and pulled me into the house. She had on jeans and a soft blue sweater, no makeup. She looked about eighteen. “Wow! What happened to your face?”

  “Oh, long story. I’ll tell you later. What are you doing in this house?” I looked around. Everything was just as I had left it. A mess.

  “I got a phone call Monday night at my apartment.” Emily was still clutching my arm. She was clearly very upset. “It was a man - I think. The voice was low and kind of raspy.” Monday was the day she had retained me, I thought. “He didn’t give a name but he told me that he was going to make me sorry if I didn’t give ‘it’ to him. I tried to tell him I had no idea what he was talking about, but he wouldn’t listen. He said he knew where I lived and he would get ‘it’ one way or the other. Then he asked if I was afrai
d of knives.” Her voice was rising and she was shaking. “I was too afraid to stay in my apartment and I don't have the money for a hotel so I thought Aunt Lily’s house would be safer - you know - since it’s surrounded by police tape and all. So I came over and I haven’t left!” I thought for a moment, then decided to tell her.

  “Emily, I came over here Monday. That's how I got my black eyes. Someone hit me on the back of my head.”

  She gasped. “Oh, Maggie!”

  “And, there was a fire next door last night. What if this house had caught fire?” The thought chilled me.

  “I know! I saw the fire. I kept peeking out from the second floor at the firemen and police. What happened? Mr. Castelletti lived there for just a few months. How did the fire start?”

  “I don’t know yet. My brother is working the case for Homicide so maybe I can find out for sure, but it was almost certainly arson.” Emily’s face paled. She looked like she might faint. I led her over to one of the kitchen chairs. “Emily, I have some questions I have to ask you,” I said gently. I took one of her hands. It was like ice.

  She looked at me with a forlorn expression. “What are they?” she asked. “I don’t know anything! Do you think this is connected to Aunt Lily’s murder? What was that man looking for? What is ‘it’?” She sounded more and more upset as we talked.

  I felt sorry for her. I didn’t think she did know anything or even what there was to know. Could be the same man who attacked me. I rubbed her hands between mine.

  “I don’t know, Emily. But I think there might be something in this house - or at least that someone thinks there is something in this house. Did your aunt ever give you any reason to think she had anything that might have been stolen?”

  Emily just stared at me. “No,” she said, almost in a whisper. “No.” She shook her head and frowned. “I can’t think of anything that Aunt Lily ever had that someone else would want! She had some jewelry but that wasn’t stolen the night she was murd- uh, the night she died. I have it now. The police told me to take it when we walked through the house to see if it had been robbed.”

  We both sat there, just thinking for a few minutes. Killer had been sniffing throughout the house and came back into the kitchen. Even he seemed subdued. He put his head on Emily’s lap and nudged her hand with his nose. She looked down and tried to smile. “What a great dog,” she said. She began petting his head.

  “Emily, tell me about your relationship with Lily and Herbert.”

  “Lily was my aunt by marriage. My father, George Hastings, was Herbert’s brother. She and Herbert never had kids and my mother died when I was a teenager. I was always crazy about Aunt Lily. She had such a fun way of looking at things! She never minded if I made a mess and she baked cookies with me, went shopping with me.......When my father worked late I would stay over at Aunt Lily’s.” Emily looked away and blinked hard.

  “What did Herbert do for a living” I asked.

  “I’m not sure. He died in 1990 when I was about sixteen. I always liked him. He was a sweet, gentle man. I know he worked in Cicero for some man but after he died no one ever talked about it. I heard a conversation once that he was a gangster and worked for someone named Lefty something but I don’t know what he did. I know Lefty had a son named Vito who was a lot younger than Uncle Herbert.”

  “How did your uncle die?” Finally, some answers!

  “He was killed in a car accident. After he died, Aunt Lily started working at the chocolate factory. I don’t think she had to though. I think she just wanted something to do. She worked in the office as a secretary. Her company made all kinds of candy and she always had treats here for me when I was a kid. I was the only child in the family, except for John and he wasn't really family. He was the son of some old friend of Aunt Lily’s.

  “Where is John now? What's his last name?” I was curious.

  “Reilly. John Reilly. He lives north of the city, I think, in Evanston. I know he teaches there at Northwestern. I haven't seen him much lately.”

  “Wasn’t he here for Thanksgiving?” I was confused.

  Emily looked at me questioningly. “Yeah, he was. How did you know that?” She sounded surprised.

  “Oh, I heard it from a neighbor. You said you came back here on Tuesday?” I was trying to piece all this together.

  “Yes, I sneaked over here very early Tuesday morning. I saw you come to the house and I was really afraid you were going to come in! I wanted to talk to you but I was scared. I saw your face and I thought.....I was hoping it wasn’t because of me. But it was.”

  “No, it wasn’t. It was because of me. Like I said, I came here Monday, shortly after you retained me. I got into the house and someone hit me on the back of my head and knocked me out.” Just thinking of this made me shudder. “I fell face first which is why I look as....colorful as I do.”

  Emily and I looked at each other. “Low guttural voice?” she asked in a whisper. Her eyes were huge.

  “He never said anything.” I didn’t like this at all. “Emily, we have got to get you out of here. Now!” I looked around the house nervously. We seemed to be alone but frankly, this house spooked me.

  “Where? Where can I go? I can’t go home - I’m too afraid he will find me there!” Emily sounded panicked. I thought fast.

  “I’m going to call my brother. He can put you up in a safe house until this is solved. What about your job teaching?” I asked.

  “I’ve taken sick leave. Believe me, it was no stretch to tell them I was sick. I am. I am so scared!”

  I grabbed her arm. “Get everything that you brought here. I’ll call my brother after we are safely in the car.”

  Emily hurried upstairs. I looked around at the mess. Surely no one would miss one little photo, I thought I walked into the dining room and looked around. The photo of the three men was nowhere in sight. I walked around the dining room, trying to remember where I had seen it. I found it off to the side and under the table. I snatched it up and quickly stuffed it into my purse. I then walked into the living room. It was a shambles.

  Emily came down the stairs. “I think I have everything,” she said. She had a small bag with her.

  One last look around the dining room and kitchen and we were out the back door and racing toward my car around the corner. Once moving, we couldn’t get away fast enough.

  It had started to snow a little and the streets were wet. I looked over at Emily and she looked very pale and very tired.

  “How about something to eat, Emily. You hungry? We can stop for some lunch if you’d like.”

  She gave me a wan smile. “I guess so. I haven’t eaten much.” Killer had stuck his head between the front seats and had his big head on her lap. He looked up hopefully at the mention of lunch. For a dog who can’t seem to understand words like “come” or “stay” or “stop that” he had all the words for meals down pat.

  I pulled into a McDonald’s and got all three of us cheeseburgers, fries and milkshakes. I parked while we ate. Killer’s food was gone in under two minutes. Emily and I took a little longer, thinking while we ate.

  “Maggie, I have racked my brain but I can’t remember anything that Aunt Lily ever said to me that makes me think she had something important. Or even something that anyone else would ever want. She didn’t have any money worries that I knew of but she didn’t live lavishly either. She never took trips or bought expensive stuff. I just can’t imagine......” her voice trailed off.

  I sighed. “Maybe she didn’t realize she had something of value. Something that someone else would want?” I looked at Emily. She nodded thoughtfully.

  “Maybe. I just can’t imagine what it is.” She crumpled up her paper wrappers. I took them from her and started the car. I tossed the wrappers in the garbage can when a sudden thought occurred to me.

  “Emily, do you have any old boyfriends that might want to hurt you? Or Lily?” It seemed a stretch but I had to explore everything.

  Emily cocked her head. “I did have one,
” she said. “Ben Freeman. But we broke up early last fall.”

  “Was it amicable?”

  She shrugged. “Not especially. He was very controlling. I just got tired of it.” She turned to me. “He was talking marriage, though.”

  “How did he take the break up?”

  “He was okay with it.” She made a face. “It was probably pretty mutual.”

  “What did he do? Where did he live?”

  Emily frowned. “Why? You don't really think he had anything to do with this, do you?”

  “I don't know. But someone is threatening you.”

  Silence. “He has a garage in Chicago. He's a whiz with cars. Anything mechanical, really.”

  “What's the name of the garage?” I felt like I was pulling teeth.

  “Freeman's Garage.” Emily clearly wasn't happy with this topic. “But I'm sure he has nothing to do with this. I haven't even talked to him since last October.”

  I dropped the subject and headed to the police station where Sean worked. This was going to be ugly. Sean would be furious that I had gone back to Lily’s and I could only hope that Digs was already gone before I got there. Jimmy wasn’t going to be happy either but I wanted to tell them about Emily, the man’s threat to her and also about the photo. I wasn’t sure I was going to tell them I had the photo......that may be news saved for a different time. Long from now. From far away. Preferably by phone.

  We walked into the police station and the same cute cop was sitting at the front desk. “Hi,” I said, smiling. He looked so young! “Detective Flaherty’s sister, again. Can you call him for me?”

  “Hi! Sure.” He smiled back. “Can I get you anything first? A coke? Coffee?”

  “No thanks.” I had to laugh. If he only knew I was carrying stolen goods from a crime scene.......well, borrowed goods from a used to be crime scene, I amended.