“This looks a little more like it, at least like DC or Baltimore,” Wire noted as she took in West Broadway with the iron bars on the businesses, the occasional boarded up building and the dilapidated nature of the residential dwellings. While many of Minneapolis’s trouble spots had been the subject of revitalization in recent years, the north side remained largely ignored.
“The foreclosure crisis hit the north side especially hard,” Mac said. “It’s too bad, really. There are some really great old neighborhoods and classic houses in this part of town that could thrive again with a little TLC.”
Mac took a right on Penn Avenue and headed north five blocks and did a U-turn in the intersection with Lowry Avenue and pulled up in front of Charlie’s building. Two very large and very intimidating black men were waiting out front for Mac. Omar and Vincent were not to be trifled with. Both well over six feet, arms the size of most men’s thighs and menacing looks. Standing with their arms crossed, they conveyed one message: STAY AWAY.
The two were always in front of Charlie’s place when the great man was present. You’d have to be a fool to mess with these two. Vincent smiled and fist bumped Mac when he walked around the front of his Yukon with the extra coffees and the bag of bear claws for the two men. Meanwhile, Omar opened the passenger door for Wire and gave Mac the usual greeting in his Barry White voice, “Mac, we’ll watch your riiiide while you’re insiiiide.”
Fat Charlie’s building was an old, non-descript, red-brick, one-story rectangular office building that sat on the corner of Lowry and Penn. At one time, a small law practice occupied the south half of the building. Now, the entire main level was the Penn-Lowry Hardware Store, of course owned by Charlie. The law offices, which were operated by two of his sons, were now in the basement which led to the amusing sign on the end of the building: Attorney’s Entrance in the Rear.
That entrance was also how you were admitted to Charlie’s office. Mac led Wire around the back of the building and down the narrow cement steps where the door was being held open by one of Charlie’s sons. Having been in Charlie’s subterranean basement office a half dozen times now, Mac knew the way and found the big man in his expansive office that contained a conference table with six chairs, a large seating area with couches, arm chairs and a large flat screen and then the bar area. The floor was black and white tile with paneling halfway up the walls and a light red shag around the top. It was the office of a gangster and Charlie was, and to a certain degree always would be, one. Charlie himself was a big man, although not as hefty as he once was when he truly was Fat Charlie, before he had gastric bypass surgery. However, even with the surgery he still tipped the scales at two hundred fifty pounds. As Mac expected, Boone was nattily attired in a dark purple pin stripe suit but with his salmon colored dress shirt open at the collar. Charlie was an early riser, but 5:00 a.m. was even a little early for him, so there was no tie or cigar, as of yet.
“Mac, my friend, how are you?” Boone greeted enthusiastically.
“I’m okay, Charlie,” Mac answered as they shook hands. “It’s been a loooong night.”
“So I’ve seen on the flat screen. I’ve been monitoring events so I’m pleased to see you still in one piece. How is your partner?”
“Dick Lick will be okay. Took one to his left shoulder, a through and through. He’ll have some rehab time in front of him, but he should be okay.”
“Good, good. Glad to hear that. And I thought all the excitement happened on our side of the mighty Mississippi,” he added with a deep laugh. Then Charlie got his first extended look at Wire. “Mac, who is this lovely lady?”
“Charlie, meet Dara Wire and you mess with her at your own risk,” she extended her hand and Charlie took it and bent down to kiss it. “It is very nice to make your acquaintance, Mizzz Wire.”
“Mac’s told me all about you, Mr. Boone,” Wire replied with a smile and Charlie’s mood playfully darkened.
“Mac’s full of shit, but you are so very lovely.”
“Thank you.”
“Mac, I assume, as usual, we need to cut to the chase.”
“Yeah, Charlie, we do.”
“Well let us sit down then.” Charlie led them to the seating area of a black leather couch and two black leather chairs situated around an expansive mahogany coffee table. A pot of coffee and four black ceramic coffee cups sat on the table along with several newspapers awaiting Charlie’s review.
“Can I at least offer you coffee?”
“I’ll take a regular coffee, but not a Boone Special,” Mac answered and then to Wire he said with a wry smile, “A Boone Special has a little Crown Royal in it.”
“Ah,” and then to Boone she said, “just black.”
Boone feigned disappointment, “As you wish,” and he poured coffee.
As they each took a sip of their coffee, Boone asked. “So what can I do for you?”
Mac gave Charlie a quick rundown of the night’s events, even dropping in some of the political components. He gave Boone just enough so that he appreciated the stakes and Mac could tell that Charlie understood. “He has for sure two and likely three bodies on him. Ms. Wire put three in his upper left chest. His friends tried to kill Ms. Wire, yours truly, Lich, Sally and Judge Dixon in front of my family’s bar. If this guy is still alive, Charlie, I want him. If he is still alive, it’s because someone provided some serious surgical intervention. We’ve gone around to the usual off-the-books doctors and nobody has seen our guy, but we’re getting wind there’s a new guy in town that might have the ability to handle this. I was thinking you might know who this guy is.”
Charlie sat back in his chair, crossed his right leg over his left and stroked his beard with his right hand. “I think I know of whom you speak, Detective. Excuse me for a moment while I make an inquiry.”
Boone pushed himself out of his chair and left his office walking down the hall and they heard a door shut.
Wire leaned over and whispered, “He is a character.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Mac replied quietly. “And he is smart, and not only street-smart but business smart. He is a very wealthy man for a reason.”
They heard the door open and footsteps coming back down the tile-floored hallway and then Charlie strolled back into the room.
“Mac, the man you want is Dr. Michael Lupo.” Boone handed Mac a note with an address in Edina along with a phone number.
“What’s his story, Charlie?” Mac asked.
“One of my people mentioned him to me a few weeks ago. He was a doctor in New York City who offered his services to those engaging in nefarious activities, of course, and then he did some of that concierge doctoring like you see on that TV show.” Charlie walked over behind his bar and poured some Crown into his coffee. It was time to start the day. “Anyway, Lupo made a lot of money out east but was starting to feel the heat from your brethren in the NYPD. So about a year ago he skedaddled west and quietly settled in Edina.”
“Where is Edina?” Wire asked.
“Wealthy inner-ring suburb just southwest of Minneapolis,” Mac answered.
Boone nodded. “That’s right. I suspect once he got the lay of the land around here he started putting out feelers. He’s doing the concierge thing again for the beautiful people out in Cake Town, but word is he also is doing some surgical work if the price is right. Apparently for work like that you have to have six figures wired to an offshore bank account to get in his door.”
Lupo sounded like their guy.
Mac took one last sip of his coffee and pushed himself out of the chair. “Charlie, if this is good, I will definitely owe you one.”
Charlie Boone shook his head and gave a dismissive wave, “Mac, given the night’s events, this one is free of charge.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“We have a plane waiting.”
Sometimes in an investigation you need a little luck and, even better, you need the other side to be unlucky, and when the two converge together, well, so much
the better.
Mac called in Lupo’s name to the Edina Police Department who put an unmarked car on his house near Interlachen Country Club while Mac organized a party from St. Paul to come over and look things over. When the Edina detective arrived at Lupo’s a little after 5:00 a.m., the house was awake, lights on in several rooms. Ten minutes later the garage door opened and Lupo backed his Jaguar out of his garage and was on his way in a hurry. The detective carefully tailed him five miles west across Edina to Highway 169. Lupo traveled south on 169 to Valley View Road and then made his way west to the back end of a past-its-prime cinder block industrial park in Eden Prairie. Lupo went in the front door of an unmarked one-story building. The shades over the singular front window were drawn. The Edina detective found a good location a block back on the second level of a parking garage to keep an eye on Lupo’s car. That was at 5:25 a.m.
At 5:45 a.m., Mac and Wire met up with Rockford, Riley, Double Frank and Paddy McRyan in the parking lot of Braemar Ice Arena a mile to the east. A contingent from Eden Prairie and Edina arrived five minutes later. The lead officer, Detective Younkers from Eden Prairie, impressed Mac, arriving with a search warrant.
“How’d you get a search warrant on what we have?” Wire asked. She and Mac had discussed a search warrant on the way down and agreed that on what they had, the chances of getting the warrant would be, at best, one-in-five and more likely one-in-ten.
“Hennepin County Judge Kale is a former prosecutor,” Younkers replied, then with a devious smile added, “He’s our go-to guy and loves the late night stuff. He’d sign a search warrant on his mother. So how do you want to handle this?”
“We need to go in strong,” Mac said. “If our guy is in there, he could have some friends hanging around or even inside and they’ll be strapped. So a show of force, vested up, coming in heavy is the way to go.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Younkers replied and he pulled out a map and spread it across the trunk of his Crown Victoria. “Lupo’s space is in the middle of this building,” he said, pointing to a building sitting at the bottom of a U-shaped office park. There was a two-lane street, small grass and sidewalk median and then parking lot in the front of the building with a narrow service driveway that wrapped its way around the back of the building. Younkers then pulled out another sheet that had the building’s interior layout. Lupo was in the middle of the three spaces for the building. The doctor’s office space was thirty feet wide by sixty feet deep. There was a front door and one on the back side. The internal layout that Younkers had was for the space’s previous tenant, which was a small machine shop. The front thirty feet of space was occupied by a small reception area and two interior offices, one on each side of the hallway leading to the back which was an open space, presumably what had been the machining area. “My guess, Detective McRyan, is that if he’s doing surgery in there, it’s in the back, as the front offices look a little small for what he’d likely need.”
Mac nodded as he soaked in the interior map.
“We have twelve people here,” Younkers said. “I’d say we go in with six in the front and six in the back.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“You ready then?”
“Lead the way,” Mac answered.
Everyone geared up, pulling on their vests and making a quick check of their weapons. Mac let Younkers take the lead in an unmarked with another detective. Mac and Wire followed in his Yukon and the others fell in behind and the motorcade made its way over to Lupo’s office.
While Mac and Wire were driving down from Boone’s to the rendezvous point at the ice arena, the background on Lupo arrived on Mac’s phone. Wire read out the background as Mac drove. Lupo was a surgeon until he was fired for violating hospital policy in New York City to save a patient. That was six years ago. From that point forward, he maintained his medical license but was not part of a medical practice with a clinic or surgical facility.
“He didn’t even retain privileges anywhere?” Mac asked.
“Doesn’t look like it.”
It appeared from his history that it was after his firing that he discovered off-the-books doctoring and the concierge practice. Mac suspected that if they started digging into his financials they’d find the concierge work was reported for tax purposes and served as a cover for the off-the-books work, which may have well been more lucrative, especially if he was now charging six figures for surgical services. Presumably that kind of money would keep the gangbangers and dope dealers away and you’d only be dealing with discreet people with serious cash and no desire to be discovered.
Riley and Rockford were with the group going around the back and Younkers let them go on ahead into the industrial office park and work their way behind Lupo’s building. Once in position, Younkers did as planned and gunned it for the front door, pulling his Crown Vic right to the front door. Mac came in on Younkers’s left and Double Frank and Paddy to his right. The Eden Prairie detective walked right to the front door and started pounding. The door was tinted black. It was impossible to see inside and there was no interior light visible. After ten seconds there was no answer, then Younkers pounded on the door again and this time yelled, “Michael Lupo! This is the Eden Prairie Police Department, we have a search warrant!” Younkers knocked again and Mac shared a look with Wire. They’re inside getting ready for us. Mac pulled his Sig Sauer out of his holster.
Then the front door opened and Riley stuck his head out, “What’s new, guys?”
“What’s going on in there?” Younkers asked.
“The good doctor tried to evade you out the back where he fell into our loving arms,” Riles reported with a smile. “Rock has him in cuffs in back. So come on in.”
The interior was the same as the diagram. There was a small waiting area and a hallway led to the back between two offices. In the back was a sterile area behind vinyl curtains where there was a hospital bed/surgical table with a body laying on it. Wire opened the zipper of the vinyl curtains and went inside and took one look at the man. “That’s him.”
“No question?” McRyan asked.
“No question, Mac. No question at all.”
Mac walked over to Lupo who was standing against the back wall, his hands cuffed behind his back. “Unhook him,” he said to Rock who did so. Lupo rubbed his wrists. “Sit down.” The doctor did as instructed. Mac pulled up a chair in front of Lupo, turned it backwards and sat down and handed him the search warrant. “That covers everything in here and your home.”
Lupo read through it and then looked up and Mac flashed his shield. “I’m Detective McRyan with the St. Paul Police Department. Right now, you want to start thinking about how you can help yourself because, Doc, you are in a world of hurt. And I’m pretty sure we’ll call our good friends with the NYPD. I imagine they’d like to catch up with you as well. Of course, if you help us, then we can forget that New York is looking for you and we’ll deal with your issues here in the friendly confines of Minnesota.”
“Okay, okay, okay,” Lupo cowered, putting his hands up. “I’ll help. I’ll help. What do you need?” Lupo asked.
“The man you’ve operated on killed two people tonight and we think perhaps a third two days ago. So for starters, I need to know this man’s name.”
The doctor rubbed his face and shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t know his name, Detective,” Lupo replied. “I was contacted about my services around 10:40 p.m. and that the patient needed immediate surgery for gunshot wounds. I quoted my price and the money was in my account within five minutes. Two men dropped him off here at the back door around 11:30 p.m. and I went to work. Obviously I don’t operate like a normal clinic. I don’t have medical records for this kind of work.”
“Did he have a wallet?”
“Not that I found when I went through his clothes.”
Wire had slipped on rubber gloves and was going through the killer’s clothing, which consisted of blue jeans, a bloody black mock turtleneck, and a black leather coat.
But as was the case when Wire shot him, he didn’t have a wallet or anything to identify him.
“What’s his medical status?” Mac asked.
Lupo looked over at his patient, “To state it simply, he’s in critical condition. He was shot three times in the chest. It’s touch and go right now as he’s been out of surgery for only a few hours.”
“What are you supposed to do with him?” Riley asked.
“I’m supposed to get a phone call soon to provide an update on his condition. All they wanted me to do was patch him up good enough so he could travel but he’s not close to ready for that yet. We have to get him out of the woods first and he’s nowhere near there.”
“Travel to where?” Wire asked.
Lupo shook his head, “Hell if I know. The two guys who dropped him off were scary as hell, kind of like you two,” he pointed to Rock and Riley. “So I didn’t ask where they were going to. I don’t know and I didn’t care. I minded my business and got my two hundred grand.”
“Well, you’re going to need every last dollar of it to get yourself out of this jam,” Mac said as he walked away and nodded towards Wire, Riley and Rock to follow him to the front reception area.
“So what do you guys think?”
Riles and Rock shrugged their shoulders. “We’ll go through this place to see if there is any record of who this guy is but I got the feeling he was telling the truth.”
“Yeah, the Hippocratic Oath doesn’t seem to matter much to him but I get the vibe that he’s telling the truth about the guy,” Wire said. “He doesn’t know who he is. Lupo got his money, patched him up as best he could and was going to be happy to send him on his way when he was good to be moved. That’s how these doctors roll.” Wire’s phone started vibrating. “It’s the Judge. I should take this,” she said as she moved into one of the offices to talk.
Mac nodded to Rockford, who was holding a camera. “Bobby, let’s get photos of this guy’s face, check his arm for tats or anything else that could be identifying and let’s get this guy’s picture over to Duffy and put it in his queue to see if he can tell us who he is.”
Electing To Murder: A compelling crime thriller (McRyan Mystery Thriller Series Book) (McRyan Mystery Series Book 4) Page 19