It caught my forehead with a glancing blow, opening up a gash. Almost immediately blood started to run down my forehead into my eyes. I took a second to wipe it with my sleeve and before I was finished, the attacker was on me again with the crowbar over his head. This time I jumped back and rolled over the hood of a newer Chevy.
As the attacker swung down with his crowbar, I slid off the hood, and the curved part of the crowbar punctured the metal, locking the attacker’s weapon in place. I knew this was my one chance so I kicked hard, catching the ski-masked man on his left side and knocking him to the ground.
It was a good, solid kick and the only thing that protected him was his padded jacket. I rushed forward, trying to take advantage of my good luck.
The man was able to fend me off and send me slipping back onto the icy asphalt. Then he turned and started to run across the street and out of sight.
I sat there for a minute, catching my breath and assessing my injury. As I stood up, holding my forehead, I noticed a Newburgh police cruiser pulling into the parking lot.
They were a little late, but I was still happy to see them.
CHAPTER 17
THE DRIVER OF the patrol car was a huge, bald black man, and his partner was a scrawny white guy with an odd-looking mustache that tilted at an angle to the right side of his face. They kept their distance as they asked a few questions and the white guy handed me some gauze to put on my forehead.
The black officer said, “We had a complaint about a disturbance in the area. You fit the description of the assailant pretty well.”
“Assailant! I’m the victim. Can’t you see this blood?”
“There’s no law that says a victim can’t kick an assailant’s ass once in a while. Why don’t you come with us and we’ll straighten this out?”
“Come where?”
“To our station. There’s someone there who wants to talk to you.”
“But I …”
The big cop grabbed me by the arm and spun me. I could have resisted. He was strong, but I was fast and better trained. No way I wanted to hurt a cop. Especially one who was just doing his job. I felt handcuffs across my wrist almost instantly.
He said, “You have the right to remain silent and I hope you have the ability to remain silent for your own good.”
Ten minutes later, I found myself in a holding cell in the same area where my brother had been the night before. I understood what the big black cop had meant when he told me to keep quiet. There’s a time to be a smart-ass and a time to shut your trap and listen. So far I hadn’t heard anything of value, but I hadn’t antagonized anyone, either. That was sort of new for me. I was starting to think these two cops were working outside their job description.
When they dumped me in the cell and took the cuffs off, the cop said, “Someone will be here in a few minutes to talk to you. I suggest you listen up.”
Then I found myself alone on a hard bench, confused about what the hell had just happened.
I sprang upright on my bench when I heard the lock on my cell turn about fifteen minutes later. I wondered if these cops were bold enough to give me a beating right here in the cell. My whole body tensed at the idea.
At least the gash in my head had stopped bleeding; one of the cops had given me a Band-Aid for it. A big Band-Aid. I considered rushing whoever came in the door and trying to escape. But I knew no one would ever buy the idea that I was arrested on bullshit charges. Come to think of it, I hadn’t actually been arrested. I guess you’d call it taken into custody. That started me thinking about why I’d really been picked out like this. Could there be a rat in the police?
I felt myself lift off the seat slightly, getting ready to charge. But when the door opened my whole body relaxed back onto the bench. Standing in the doorway was my mom’s friend, Sergeant Bill Jeffries.
The sergeant gave me a smile and shook his head. “You Mitchum boys have stirred up a lot of shit in the last couple of days here in Newburgh.”
“Are you the man I’m supposed to talk to?”
Sergeant Jeffries shook his head and motioned me to follow him. There were no handcuffs or searches involved as we hustled down the hallway. He led me through a door, which took us outside. He pointed to a cruiser and said, “Jump in the passenger seat.”
I didn’t ask any questions but could tell he was headed back toward the Budstop, where my car was parked.
Sergeant Jeffries said, “I don’t exactly know what’s going on here. You weren’t officially booked. I’m not asking any questions about it, but you’ve made some enemies in the Newburgh police department. You need to get out of Newburgh and stay away from this case. Let your brother’s lawyer do what she’s good at.”
“Come on, Bill. You know my mom. You think she’d let me drop this case?”
The sergeant chuckled and said, “Then you better start watching your ass more closely. There are a lot of bad people in this town.”
CHAPTER 18
BEFORE SERGEANT JEFFRIES even dropped me off at my car at the Budstop, my phone rang. I was surprised to hear Katie Stahl asking me to meet her. I raced through Newburgh, or, at least, drove as quickly as I could in my beat-up station wagon, to where Katie had told me she was waiting: Lise Mendez’s office.
As I stepped through the front door, Lise called from her office, telling me to come in.
As soon as she saw me, Lise said, “Is everything all right? What happened to your head?”
My hand rose to the giant Band-Aid on my forehead and reminded me I still had a slight headache. “Just clumsy.”
Katie smiled and patted the chair next to her. “We need your signature on a couple of forms for Natty.”
“What kind of forms?”
“I’m moving the retainer Pete had with Miss Mendez over to cover some of the expenses for Natty,” Katie said. “She wanted to make sure there was no question if anyone asked where the money came from. I’m also trying to get a fix on my cash situation in case Natty gets a bond hearing so I can help him out.”
Lise said, “There are a couple of businessmen in town that will help with Natty’s bond as well. He’s very well respected here in Newburgh.”
“By businessmen, do you mean drug dealers?”
“Does it matter?”
I thought about it and shrugged. I couldn’t believe how lucky my brother was to have two people like these women in his life. An attorney who was going above and beyond the call of duty and a young woman who trusted him enough to post a bond on a homicide charge. Whatever choices my brother made, he was doing all right in at least one department.
I filled out the paperwork and chatted with the women for a few minutes. Katie stood, slipped on a cute leather jacket, and got ready to leave.
The manners my mother had beaten into my brother and me demanded that I stand as well.
She gave me a quick hug. “Thank you for everything you’re doing.”
“I really haven’t accomplished anything yet. But I’m not giving up.” I didn’t tell her that now I was prepared to take drastic measures to help my brother and find my friend’s killer. You can only put up with bullshit for so long, and I was at my limit.
Once Katie had left, Lise looked at me and said, “I thought I said I didn’t need any help on your brother’s case.”
“I’m not doing it for you.”
She shook her head and looked down. “I hope to make some progress at the evidentiary hearing scheduled for next week. If the gun gets thrown out for any reason, your brother will be free to go.”
I leaned in and said, “I heard you represent all the drug dealers in town.”
“Why does that matter?”
“Because you represent my brother, Pete, and Alton Beatty.”
“Alton has me on retainer. But that’s really all I can say. Why? Is there something I need to know?”
“Did Pete or Alton ever tell you about some kind of big score they made in the city?”
“As I said, ethically, I can’t t
ell you anything a client has discussed with me. That being said, typically, my clients don’t call me unless there is some kind of problem. I don’t hear about the successful business transactions.”
I thought about how she could discuss this so casually and blurted out, “Does what you do for a living ever bother you?”
“You mean upholding people’s rights?”
“I mean figure out ways for felons to get back out on the streets.”
Lise said, “Like your brother?”
She hit the target on that last comment. I had no real retort other than to bow my head and say, “Touché.”
There was an awkward silence that one of us needed to break.
Lise said, “Natty told me you were in school to be a Navy SEAL. He said it was all you ever wanted to be. How does a SEAL recruit become a paperboy and PI?”
“I had all the skills. I could run. Was great with weapons. I took karate since I was eight so I knew how to move. There was just one thing I underestimated.”
“What’s that?”
“Swimming. I could swim, but not the way I needed to. Upstate New York is not the best environment to become a great swimmer.”
“You didn’t know that going in?”
“I thought I’d get better going through the school in San Diego. Turns out, with everything we had to do, I couldn’t keep up. The instructors cut me slack because I could do everything else. That’s how I made it until the end of the course. Ultimately, I had to give up that dream and make a new one. I wanted to help people. Contribute to society. That sort of nonsense.” I gave her a smile. “That’s why I became a PI. Paid or not.”
Lise said, “Not that I’m interested, but what’s your next move looking into Pete’s death?”
“I didn’t see Alton Beatty’s car at the Budstop on my way over here, so I think I’m going to go get some rest and track him down early tomorrow afternoon. Maybe scare a few answers out of him.”
“He’s not the simple redneck he pretends to be.”
“Neither am I.”
Lise said, “Be careful out there. Newburgh is a dangerous place.”
“You’re the second person today who’s told me that.”
CHAPTER 19
WHEN I START to concentrate on a case like this, I often lose track of time. The only thing I remember to do is my paper route early in the morning. I got up before dawn, like I do every single day, and delivered my papers. I do it not only because I get a regular paycheck, but because I know that I’m the lifeline to a number of elderly residents around Marlboro. It makes me get up every morning. I like to say hello and chat for a few seconds if one of my customers happens to be outside. I needed a regular, uneventful morning like this.
By midday, I was back in Newburgh and looking for Alton Beatty. The condescending little turd needed to have some answers for me or this would be an unpleasant day. It didn’t take long to track down his Cadillac in the parking lot of the Budstop.
By now I had switched modes completely. I wasn’t only a private investigator, I was the brother of a guy falsely accused of murder. My mom was depending on me. That meant something. At least to me.
I stepped through the side door of the bar. I didn’t see the big bodyguard, but Blade’s head snapped up as soon as I came into view. Alton was sitting in a booth reading a New York Times. He hopped to his feet as soon as he saw me.
He said, “Don’t you know that it isn’t polite to drop by without calling first? You Yankees sure don’t have the manners of us folks from the Midwest. Why are you bothering me again? I told you everything I knew yesterday.”
I glanced around the room quickly and noted that Blade stepped around the bar, ready to take action. “Where’s your big bodyguard?”
“At the doctor having his fractured jaw fixed. I ought to bill you for the damage.”
“Or invest in a better bodyguard.”
“You’re wasting my time, Mitchum. I got things to do. What do you want?”
“Let’s say I believe you didn’t kill Pete Stahl. You’ve gotta have an idea who did.”
“You asking me as the town genius or as someone involved in the industry?”
“I didn’t realize you were a genius.”
“Not everyone does. Usually I call those people idiots. I’m guessing you went to a state school of some kind.”
“I’m asking if you heard anything in your position as a local drug dealer.”
“You trying to insult me? It sounds like you’re talking down to me. Frankly, you’re not smart enough to talk down to me. No one is. I don’t appreciate that sort of attitude in my business.”
That was one sentence too many from this little prick. “Do you appreciate this?” I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him close to me. “My brother is in deep shit for something he didn’t do. I think you have information that can help me clear him. And you’re gonna start talking. Right. Fucking. Now.”
As soon as I released him, Alton took a step away and reached behind his back. Before I had time to act, he was holding a small semiautomatic pistol. Worse, he still had a smirk on his face as if he was absolutely brilliant for walking around with a gun.
I didn’t hesitate. That’s the key in a situation like this. I used my right hand to slap him hard across the face and at the same time grabbed the gun with my left hand. I twisted Alton’s arm, pulling him close to me as I put the gun to his head. We shuffled toward the rear door. I looked at Blade the bartender and said, “Be cool and this will all work out. I don’t think you want to blow your meal ticket just yet.” As soon as we were outside, I pushed him forward into a brick wall that hid the dumpster.
I said, “I’m out of patience with you. You’re gonna start talking or I’m gonna smack you around so hard no one in this town will ever respect you again. They’ll have to take you by the emergency room to get this gun removed from your ass.”
“You think because you’re a big guy and were in the Navy that you know what tough is. Try being the smartest kid in Cincinnati who’s only five foot seven. There’s nothing you can do to me that will make me talk.”
I didn’t understand how a guy was so smart and still didn’t understand the physics of a pistol. I shoved him up hard against the wall with my left hand under his chin, lifting him onto his tiptoes. Then I screwed the nozzle of the gun into his nostril.
He gave me a hard stare like he didn’t think I had the nerve to pull the trigger.
I extended my thumb up and pulled back the hammer of the pistol, so he would hear the cocking sound and see the movement. That did it.
“Okay, okay, hang on one second.”
I didn’t move. I growled, “Talk.”
And he talked quickly.
“Pete and I stumbled onto a new recipe for meth. One of the chemical engineering students from Columbia I used to buy shit from made it. We interrupted his deal with some Canadians and got lucky.”
“How lucky did you get?”
Alton said, “Six hundred and fifty thousand.”
“How much is the recipe worth?”
“We’ve been offered a million bucks for it. The Canadian mob is all over this. The Canucks love prescription pills and meth. And this recipe has them drooling.”
“Why? What’s so special about it?”
“You can make it with ingredients that aren’t too hard to find. Not quite as potent, but it can be made on a big scale.”
“Who has it?” The whole time he’d been talking I had been releasing my grip slightly, at least to the point where his feet were flat on the ground. Now I stepped back with the pistol still pointed at his face.
Alton was out of breath and sweating as he said, “Pete and I stashed the money and the recipe with the help of another partner. We wanted to make it so not one of us could get to the cash without the other two. It’s in a bank up in Poughkeepsie and you need two keys to get into the box, and a code to get into the safety-deposit-box room without any questions.”
; “What do you have?”
Alton stuck his left hand into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a flat metal key with a number 68 on it. He said, “Pete had the other key, but I suspect whoever shot him took it.”
I stared at the key.
Sensing my interest, Alton closed his fist around it and held it by his side.
I said, “You think I won’t take it?”
“You’ll have to kill me first. I earned this.”
I decided to let it go for the moment. I said, “So who has the code?”
“Forget that. What you need to do is find out who has Pete’s key. Whoever has the key probably killed Pete and has the answers to get your brother out of jail.”
“I need some direction. You were my best lead.”
“A cop picked up Pete on some cheap, narco charge. Pete told me—”
But that’s when I heard the first gunshot.
CHAPTER 20
I DUCKED AT the first sound of the gunfire, then rolled to my right when I felt pieces of brick start to fly from the ricochets. I had Alton’s little popgun in my hand and brought it up to fire a couple of times.
Alton was on the ground, so I grabbed him by the back of the shirt to pull him out of the line of fire and to cover. As soon as I grabbed his belt, his whole body went limp. As I brought him closer to me, I saw the bullet wound that went in through his cheek and exited the back of his head. His open eyes were already glassy.
Something shiny on the ground caught my attention. The key! I reached forward, trying to stay behind cover. A bullet pinged off the dumpster next to my extended hand. I lurched back. I stuck Alton’s pistol around the dumpster and fired once to get the shooter’s head down. Then I snatched the key and jammed it in my pocket as I tumbled back behind cover.
I caught a glimpse of someone in a dark coat running between cars in the parking lot. I left Alton where he was and started to give chase. I could tell it was a male who was pretty big and, most important, still had the pistol in his hand. As he came out on the street, he turned to see if anyone was following him, and I dove onto the asphalt parking lot.
The River Murders Page 11