by S F Bose
After quickly assessing Dietz, I decided the best option in any fight with him would be to deliver a hard, snap kick to his groin. I wasn’t sure a bullet would stop him.
“Mr. Dietz?” Sam replied and walked up to the man. Sam stuck his hand out. For a second, I thought Dietz wouldn’t shake it but then he did. “I’m Sam Nolan and this is my colleague, Liz Bean.”
I smiled and raised my hand in a half-hearted wave. Dietz’s eyes flicked to me and then back to Sam. He exhaled. “Jimmy Dietz. What can I do for you?”
Sam fished a business card from his wallet and handed it to Dietz. He also showed him his PI license. “We’d like to ask you a few questions about Justin Church. We’re working on a case that involves him and hope you can help us.”
Dietz looked at the card and then back at Sam. “Is Justin in some sort of trouble?”
“Could we speak in your office, Mr. Dietz?” I asked. His eyes went back and forth between us and then he shrugged. He turned and walked back toward the doorway. I briefly saw the print of a handgun on his right hip. For a big guy, he walked with grace and control. Sam and I followed. As we walked, I started the voice recorder on my phone.
Dietz led us through the Gaming Room doorway, left down a short hall, and stopped at the first door on the right. He stood in the doorway as we passed him and entered his office. I smelled a spicy, citrus scent and a low buzz sounded in my head.
The office was impressive. Plush carpeting, dark walnut burl desk, brown leather executive chair with diamond tufted back, brown leather visitors’ chairs, bookshelves, and wooden filing cabinets. Whoever designed and decorated Paulie’s loved expensive wood. Every room in the place reeked of money. I saw a printer but no laptop or desktop computer. It was a macho office.
“That’s a wonderful scent you’re wearing, Mr. Dietz. Citrusy and spicy. May I ask what it is?” I asked with a smile. He shut the door, and went around his desk. He stood facing us.
“No idea. It was a gift from a friend. Please be seated.”
We sat down. I put my phone on the edge of the desk. It was behind an in-out box, so he couldn’t see it. I took a small notebook and pen from my pocket. Sam tossed his Irish cap on his side of the desk.
“How did you get my name?” Dietz asked.
“Justin’s parents gave us the names of all of his friends,” I replied.
He frowned. “Why are you asking questions about Justin?”
“Mr. Dietz…has anyone told you that Justin Church is dead?” I asked.
His face and eyes didn’t change. “What?” he asked in a flat tone.
Sam said, “He was killed last Monday at the Emporium in Mystic Creek, where he worked.”
Dietz shifted his body in the chair. His eyebrows had darted down and then back to normal.
“That can’t be. You’re telling me that somebody killed Justin Church?” He used the same flat tone.
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” I replied. His eyes locked on mine.
“How was he killed?” Goose bumps rose up on my arms. Dietz’s lack of emotion made my skin crawl. He almost seemed medicated. I noted that his hands were in view, folded on the desk.
“He was beaten and shot to death,” Sam said.
Dietz absorbed that information and looked at a spot beyond his desk. Then he looked at Sam.
“I’m sorry. This news comes as a complete surprise. It’s the first I’ve heard of it. It’s going to be hard to tell Mr. B.”
“Justin was a friend of yours?” asked Sam.
“Yes he was.”
“When did you see him last?” I asked.
His eyes shifted to me. “About three weeks ago at a poker game.”
I followed up. “Where was the game?”
Dietz inhaled and his chest expanded. “It was at the home of Eddie Klein, a mutual friend. Strictly a friendly game.”
I nodded. “Where does Mr. Klein live?” I knew where Eddie lived, but didn’t want Jimmy to know that.
“In Fitchburg. When did this happen again?”
Sam said, “Last Monday between 2:00 p.m. and 5:00 p.m.”
Dietz’s face remained impassive. “And you said Justin was both beaten and shot?”
Sam and I both nodded.
“What killed him? The beating or being shot?” asked Dietz. I felt a chill. Was this just morbid curiosity? Glancing at Sam, I saw he was frowning. Dietz noticed our unspoken reaction. “I just need to know exactly how he died. He was my friend.”
Sam tilted his head. His eyes were locked on Dietz. “The beating likely took place earlier in the day. It was the gunshot wounds that killed Justin.”
I watched Dietz exhale and saw the ends of his mouth curve up briefly in a smile before returning to a straight line. He dropped his head for a moment.
“What’s going on, Mr. Dietz?” I asked.
When he looked up, his face was pale. “Sorry. It’s just a shock. And call me Jimmy.”
Sam nodded. “Okay Jimmy, do you know anything at all about the death of Justin Church?”
For the first time, Jimmy Dietz smiled, but it was a sad smile. “I don’t know anything about Justin’s murder. All I know is he was a good guy.”
Sam cleared his throat. “What was Justin’s mood three weeks ago at the card game at Eddie Klein’s?”
Jimmy’s eyebrows knitted into a frown as he thought back. He shook his head. “Justin was in a good mood. Happy. He talked about some business deal that he was working on. He thought it would help him and his parents financially.”
“Did he say what kind of deal?” I asked.
“No. We tried to get him to tell us, but he wouldn’t. Sometimes, Justin got amped up about things that fell apart later. So I took a lot of the things he said with a grain of salt.”
I nodded. Jimmy had definitely relaxed. I decided to lie. “Jimmy, we know that Justin placed bets using Mr. B’s online system. We found a document on his computer, kind of a journal. Justin wrote down everything about Mr. B’s gambling system. We also know that Justin owed Mr. B thirty thousand dollars. What can you tell us about that?”
I swore I could feel Jimmy freeze in place. The air seemed to chill. He didn’t move and his eyes drilled into mine. Finally, instead of denying it, he said in the same flat voice, “All I know is Justin paid Mr. B back everything he owed.”
Sam clicked his teeth and made a face. “How? Justin didn’t have thirty thousand dollars. I don’t think he had thirty dollars. And his parents had money problems too.”
Jimmy shrugged. “I don’t know how or where he got the money.”
Sam leaned forward in his chair and spoke softly. “Look Jimmy, we’ve got a client we need to clear in this murder. All we want is information that helps us find out who the real murderer is. We don’t want to drag Mr. B into this if we can avoid it.”
Jimmy’s eyes widened. His face looked pale and rigid. He suddenly stood up and balled his big fists. I sat back in the chair and slid my right hand into the pocket of my parka. I wrapped my fingers around the grip of my Kahr CM9. If I had to, I’d pull it out and shoot right through the pocket holster.
“You cannot bring Mr. B into this,” Jimmy said. His voice was low and tight. “I want that document. The journal? I want it.”
Sam spread his hands out palms up. “Jimmy, the cops took the computer as evidence. The Chief let us look at it because he knows our client. We’re all old friends.”
Jimmy’s face dropped. “The cops have it?”
“It’s probably locked up in Madison by now. But they don’t know what they have,” Sam said quietly. “Frankly, I don’t trust them to find the killer, so we didn’t tell them about Justin’s journal. We want to get the evidence to clear our client, first.”
Jimmy looked stricken and sat down again. I took my hand out of my pocket.
“You didn’t tell them?” Jimmy repeated.
“No, we didn’t,” Sam replied. “It’s information that gives us an edge. Here’s another thing to consider, Jimmy. If
we catch the killer and solve the case quickly, we won’t ever tell the police about the journal. That means they’ll never talk to Mr. B about his gambling system.”
Jimmy thought about that and nodded. “Mr. B will never know.”
“Jimmy did you or Mr. B kill Justin?” I asked softly.
His eyes cut to me. “No!”
“Then you have nothing to hide and nothing to worry about,” I said firmly. “Help us out and we’ll forget we ever met you.”
Sam followed up quickly, “Liz is right. If you didn’t kill Justin, you’re not the guy we want.”
Jimmy sat back in his chair. Then he rubbed his face with both hands.
“If I help you, Mr. B can never know,” he said.
“He won’t,” Sam said.
Jimmy gave Sam a hard look. Then he cleared his throat and took a sip of something from a coffee mug. He rested his hands on top of the desk, which is where I wanted them.
“This is confidential and off the record?”
“It is,” Sam said.
“Okay. What exactly do you want to know?”
“Let’s start with how you meet Justin?” asked Sam.
“I’ve been playing poker once a month with Justin, Eddie Klein, and Einstein for years. I met Justin at the game.”
“Who invited you to the game?” asked Sam.
“Eddie did. We first met at a gym I worked at and became friends. One day he asked if I played poker. When I said I did, he invited me to the game. I met Justin, Einstein, and two other guys. They were all married, except for me.”
“What happened to the two other players?” I asked.
Jimmy shrugged. “They stopped playing. It came down to the four of us.”
“How long ago did you meet Eddie?” I asked.
Jimmy groaned. “I don’t know for sure. It’s been years. It was before I got this job.”
“How long have you had this job,” I asked.
“Over four years,” Jimmy replied.
“How’d you get the job?” Sam asked.
Jimmy smiled. “A buddy was bartender here and was leaving. He recommended me. I met Mr. B, we hit it off, and he hired me. I worked as a bartender for one month and was the worst bartender ever. Then one day Mr. B called me into his office. I thought he was going to can me. Instead, he said he thought I’d make a good manager.”
“So you’ve been a manager here for four years?” Sam asked.
“Yes, just about. Right after he got the idea, Mr. B promoted me.”
I studied Jimmy. He was almost smiling and seemed nostalgic. “You like Mr. B.”
His eyes flashed. “Damn straight I do. He’s been a mentor, friend, and second father to me. Nobody else ever saw my potential or supported me like he has.”
I nodded. “Tell us about the gambling part of your job.”
Jimmy groaned and moved his chair closer to the desk. “For new members, I check on who’s vouching for them. Then if it looks good, I talk to the person and explain the process. After that, I schedule a face to face with Mr. B. If they get through that, I set them up on the online betting system. I also monitor reports from the system and give Mr. B a weekly summary of how much money is going to customers and how much is going to the house.”
“Does Mr. B own the betting system, set the odds and lines?” Sam asked.
Jimmy shook his head. “No. He pays a fee to a company to use their betting services. They handle everything including payment processing.”
“If a gambler is underwater on the loans he got from Mr. B, do you play a role there?” Sam asked.
Jimmy’s face turned red. “If Mr. B has extended credit to a player and they’re behind in their repayments, he lets me know. He also tells me what he wants. For some players, he wants full repayments within thirty days. With others, he offers a payment plan. So I contact the person and give them their repayment options. I also freeze their ability to access the online system and make wagers.”
“What if the person misses a repayment?” I asked.
Jimmy glanced at me and away. “Then I go and have a chat with him.”
“Do you strong arm them?” asked Sam.
Jimmy took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I stress the seriousness of the situation. I try to avoid anything physical. We need the person to be healthy so they can repay us.”
Sam watched Jimmy and then nodded. “That makes sense. So did Eddie, Justin and Einstein all bet through Mr. B’s system?”
“Eddie and Justin did. Einstein had no interest.”
“When did they start betting?” Sam asked.
“It was a year ago December. They both started at the same time. I remember because I told them it was their Christmas present. They brought that up from time to time.”
“Jimmy, I’m confused,” I said. “You’ve been a manager here for four years, including the gambling operations. You have buddies you play poker with every month, but two of them only started betting here a year ago? Why not sooner?”
Jimmy spread his hands out. “The poker they play is for fun. Low stakes, burgers and beers with buddies. They have a good time and nobody ever loses big. Sports gambling is different. I didn’t think they’d be good at it.”
“What changed your mind?” I asked.
“I slipped up. We had a player with a huge win and I mentioned it at the poker game. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted it.”
“They wanted to play?” I asked.
Jimmy’s big jaw jutted out. “Eddie and Justin begged to play. They called or texted me every freaking day.”
“Were they angry you didn’t tell them earlier?” asked Sam.
“A little. But I told them I didn’t know they liked sports betting and that smoothed things over.”
“So you got them in?” Sam asked.
Jimmy nodded. “Long story short, I talked to Mr. B and vouched for both of them. Eddie did pretty well. He had a real knack for over under betting. But Justin was a disaster. He reached the point where his balance was too low and he couldn’t deposit the minimum. So he talked to Mr. B. I don’t know why, but Mr. B took a chance with Justin. He gave him a fifteen hundred dollar extension loan with interest. Justin had to repay Mr. B a certain amount each week. The idea is to make players think before they bet because there’s more on the line. Justin had some winners, but then he’d lose big and be under the minimum again. Mr. B gave him more extensions, until he was down thirty thousand.”
“So Mr. B served as a loan shark to a bad gambler and kept giving him loans while bad bets and growing interest buried him?” Sam asked.
“Well…yeah,” Jimmy nodded and his face reddened. “I don’t know why Mr. B kept giving Justin extensions. Maybe he tried to help him because I had vouched for him. Justin also charmed Mr. B. They both liked each other. Also, Mr. B doesn’t give out a lot of extension loans. He prefers to make his money on the vig, not loans.”
“What was Mr. B’s interest rate?” I asked.
“I can’t tell you that.”
“So how did Justin pay back the thirty thousand?” Sam asked.
Jimmy looked sad. “Justin missed a couple of weekly repayments to Mr. B. We froze his account. Then Mr. B asked me to go talk to him.”
“To hurt him?” Sam asked.
Jimmy slapped a hand on the desk. “No! He just wanted his money back. A dead gambler can’t make things right.”
“Okay, when was this?” Sam asked.
Jimmy gave him a dark look. “I don’t know exactly. Sometime last autumn.”
“What happened?” asked Sam.
“I met with Justin and told him he had to pay Mr. B his money. He swore he was working on a deal where he was selling something to someone for big money. He thought one million dollars was doable. He refused to tell me what it was or who the target was. He said all he needed was a little more time.”
“You believed him?” I asked.
Jimmy nodded. “It bothered me that he wouldn’t at least te
ll me what the item was. But I did believe him. I’ve known Justin for years and could read him. He had some projects in the past that I knew were total BS and would never succeed. However, this time, I felt he was telling the truth and a payoff was very possible. I thought it was some sort of antique that he was selling behind his parents’ backs. So I… gave him the thirty thousand.”
Sam looked startled. “Gave it to him?”
Jimmy corrected himself. “Loaned it to him. He said he wanted to close the deal by December, but hoped it would go through sooner. I never should have done it. It breaks all the rules of how we do business. Mr. B would look at the loan as a sign of weakness. But Justin was a friend and I believed him.”
“The sale of an antique does make sense. What happened next?” I asked.
Jimmy cracked his knuckles. “Justin paid off Mr. B who was happy. Mr. B thought I had scared Justin into paying, so he was happy with me. After that, I called Justin every week for updates. At first, he was upbeat, but then he started putting me off. Then he said the guy wasn’t responding, so he was going to increase the pressure. That’s when I got worried. In December, I started calling him every day. I was getting angrier and feeling stupid.”
Sam leaned forward. “Then what?”
Jimmy looked at Sam, but he seemed to look right through him. “I lied about the last time I saw Justin. I swear I didn’t kill him. However, the same day he was killed, I went to the Emporium in the afternoon. His parents were away and he’d closed the store.”
“What time was this?” I asked.
Jimmy squinted. “Must have been around 12:30 p.m. right after lunch.”
“Okay, what happened?” I asked.
“I asked him if he had the money and he said he didn’t have it yet. I saw red.”
Jimmy paused and rubbed his forehead. “I told him he was my friend but this was business. Justin got nervous. He said he was finally meeting with the guy to make the deal that afternoon. Justin also said the buyer knew that what he had to sell was legitimate and wanted it.”