Ralph and Howard chatted. After the “How have you been?” bullshit was out the way Howard quickly got to the point. Ralph, a smart man who made it up the corporate ladder, was now in charge of foreign exchange for a major investment firm, but he had one downfall. He lived above his means, regardless of income. Houses, fancy cars, a demanding girlfriend he couldn’t say no to, alimony for an ex-wife, and child support for two kids. He always looked for the next big deal, and Howard just laid out the perfect crime. It was far from legal, but the reward was worth the risk. Ralph promised he’d have the information that Howard needed within two hours.
Howard strolled passed Mario and motioned for him to follow. They went over all the details on the drive downtown. Sitting at a traffic light, Howard’s personal cell phone rang. He looked at the screen. It was a phone number he didn’t recognize.
He never answered, other than by saying hello. Snitches and other low-lifes had the number, and none knew he was a cop. “Hello.”
“Mr. Kuzma?”
Howard got Mario’s attention with a wave. “Yuri? Everything okay?”
Yuri didn’t go into detail but said he thought his brother might be dead, and he had to get out of town. Yuri confirmed what the police suspected. Egor had help killing the utility workers and stealing the bucket truck for him to gain access to the fire escape at the condo.
Howard offered Yuri help. Telling him the New Orleans airport, train station, and bus depot was covered with police. His best shot was for him to send a friend with a limousine to drive him to the Baton Rouge Metropolitan Airport. That was the safest way out of the area. Yuri thanked Howard repeatedly. They made arrangements to meet.
Howard called two guys he could trust, Zack Nelson and Dave Thorton. Arrangements were made for them to pick up the limousine at the barn. Zack was pumped; he said it reminded him of the old days on a stakeout. His instructions were to park outside Pinky’s Bar on Tulane Avenue. Yuri would find them. Then Zack could take him for a ride down River Road until Howard called.
Zack never took chances and grabbed his duffel bag with two handguns, a sawed-off shotgun, mace, and handcuffs.
There was no plan for Yuri to reach Baton Rouge.
Chapter 28
The halls of police headquarters were bare. The morning shift change was completed. Patrol officers were briefed and back in their cars on the street. Staff employees were not due for another hour. Howard waited by a bench outside the chief’s private entrance for Mario.
A loudness came from the conference room. Mayor O’Keefe’s loud voice bounced off the high ceilings and marble floors. Not entirely clear enough to make out what he was saying, but it left no doubt he was pissed.
When Mario arrived, the first question Howard asked was confirmation they were still in agreement to move forward if Ralph Givens came through with the information needed. Mario spoke no words, but the nod of his head and the fire in his eyes said he was ready.
“What about Olivia?” Mario asked, fiddling with his hands.
“Done,” Howard said. “Olivia was relieved not to be involved and wrote down in detail the process and bank codes of the Panama bank.”
Mario stretched his legs out from the bench. “All we need is Ralph to deliver.”
“He will, within the hour,” Howard said the words, but wasn’t 100 percent sure.
The chief opened the door and rolled her eyes, an indication they were walking into a shit show. Around the conference table sat Mayor O’Keefe, District Attorney Gilbert James, FBI Agent Max Toups, and SWAT Commander Bill Johnson.
The chief, at the head of the table, opened with, “Mr. District Attorney.”
Gilbert got to the point and read from a pad that Lorenzo was charged with the death of Jerry Ginn, Alton Simmons, and Brandon Asher. And he was responsible for the Crescent City armored car robbery.
FBI agent Toups chimed in that Gaspar Ricci would testify and for his cooperation would be placed in the Federal Witness Protection Program.
Chief Parks asked SWAT Commander Johnson if he was ready. He assured her that Lorenzo, his crew, and assets would go down at 1600 hours.
“What about Billy Jean Ravis?” Mario asked. An acknowledgment came slowly, like no one wanted to answer.
“Billy Jean goes free,” Gilbert James finally said, looking at the mayor.
“Yeah, at the tune of eighty thousand dollars,” the mayor replied with piercing eyes focused toward Gilbert.
Mario and Howard grinned; it was clear what all the shouting was about. The mayor must have wanted the DA’s office to take some of the hit for prosecuting the wrong person. Wrongful imprisonment falls under the responsibility of the city. The city only agreed to the payoff to avoid a lawsuit for a more significant amount.
“She accepted?” Mario asked.
The mayor nodded his head.
Mario smiled, “You got off cheap. A good attorney would have gotten a couple of million dollars.”
The chief jumped in quickly, before Mario started a pissing contest. “So we’re set?”
The SWAT commander shook his head up and down. “We have two teams ready. His yacht is docked at the West End marina.”
“The arrest warrant is for Lorenzo and Little Pete. Gustavo Martino, Tony Nazario’s attorney, will go down too. I think we can flip him,” Gilbert said.
“Don’t forget Julie Wong,” Agent Toups pointed out.
Mario didn’t want to move or even glance at Howard. This was so unexpected. He had no clue that Julie was on the FBI’s radar. Both detectives let it pass and watched the eyes of everyone else in the room; they were sure none were focused on them.
The meeting broke, and chairs were loud against the wood floors, as they pushed away from the table. “My detectives will be on the boat. Remember this is a two-year undercover operation they lead,” the chief said. “Make sure they get some press time.”
“Let’s bring Lorenzo in alive,” Agent Toups said.
Mario slowly lifted his head and gave a side glance at the chief. Her head nod indicated she didn’t care if Lorenzo came in dead or alive. He nodded back.
Once in the car, Mario drove, and Howard called Julie. He caught her in the air about an hour from landing at the New Orleans airport.
She thanked him for the heads-up and once again said, “I owe you big time, Howard.” Her plane diverted back to Colombia.
The next call went to Zack, driving Yuri aimlessly, waiting for further directions.
“Everything okay?” Howard asked.
“Yep. I even have Dave riding shotgun,” he said, locking eyes with Dave sitting with the sawed-off shotgun across his lap. “No joke.”
“I understand,” Howard said.
Zack was to arrive at the West End marina in one hour and park by Lorenzo’s yacht. He pulled into the entrance of an oil company and made a turn back on River Road, heading back to the city. He watched Yuri’s eyes through the mirror. His head turning from one side to the other, getting a glimpse out of the windows.
Then it happened. Yuri pulled his gun and pointed at the glass partition separating the two cabin areas.
“Stop the car,” Yuri shouted. “Now!”
“Just calm down,” Zack tried to defuse the situation.
Dave turned the shotgun toward the back seat.
“Bullshit, we passed this refinery three times,” Yuri said, lifting his gun. Then he fired one shot into the windshield. “Pull over!”
Zack had no choice but to stop on the shoulder of the road. River Road would be deserted for at least another hour until the chemical plants changed shifts. For now, Zack had to rely on Dave, an untrained civilian.
Yuri slipped out the back door with his gun pointed at Zack in the front seat, demanding him to get out of the car. Zack looked down the barrel of a firearm and stood by the front fender. Dave was told to open the passenger door slowly and follow.
“Dave, he’ll kill us both,” Zack said, hoping Dave understood what he meant.
�
�Shut up,” Yuri shouted. “I’ll put one in your head, now.”
Dave opened the door, the shotgun tightly held against his right leg.
“Both hands in the air,” Yuri shouted. “Quickly, let’s go.”
Dave stood with his left hand in the air. His right side swung the shotgun onto the hood to steady his aim and fired. One blast sprayed, knocking Yuri back off the road. When Yuri gained his balance, Zack pulled the gun from Dave and blasted him twice more. Yuri lay dead several feet down from the shoulder of the road, deep in a swampy area that would disappear with high tide.
They marked the area with the sleeve of Yuri’s shirt attached to a tree. Zack picked up the three shotgun casings, and they drove off before the next car passed. Once they got into the city, Zack called Mario and filled him in on the attack. Happy they were safe, he instructed them to return the limo to the barn and have the interior detailed. They were to return home and not to lose any sleep over the death of Yuri. If they hadn’t killed him, Mario would have found a way to do it on the boat before the police raid.
Howard and Mario rushed into the New Orleans Public Library and went directly to a computer. Howard had received his phone call from Ralph Givens as promised only moments earlier. An account had been set up under his name at a bank in Singapore. Armed with access codes and directions from Olivia about how to transfer money from Lorenzo’s Panama account to Howard’s new Singapore account, he waited for the computer to prompt the next move.
The process was ridiculously easy, but that’s also why people kept their fortunes in Panama banks. Easy in and easy access out with just the push of a few buttons.
The screen asked what account and routing number to transfer money. Howard typed the information Ralph gave him, and it quickly prompted the next step.
“Thank you, Ralph,” Mario whispered.
Howard looked at Mario when the screen balance of Lorenzo’s account showed $12,566,880.00.
“All of it?” Howard asked.
“No, leave him one dollar,” Mario said. “That’s more insulting than taking it all.”
With a few strokes of the keyboard, Lorenzo’s account had a balance of one dollar. Howard logged out of the Panama bank and typed in his Singapore bank code. The computer searched for a second, then displayed the balance. All of Lorenzo’s money was parked in Howard’s account.
Howard was almost speechless. “We did it.”
“The only thing better than this—is seeing Lorenzo’s face,” Mario said, “when I tell him we stole his money.”
Chapter 29
Mario met the SWAT team and the FBI agents in an underground building in the Warehouse District. The number of men and women with weapons and armor vests looked like overkill. When the government was ready to take down a career criminal like Lorenzo, it brought firepower as if it was taking over a small country. Nothing was left to chance.
He was briefed on the plan of action, so he wouldn’t be caught in the line of fire if things didn’t go as planned. Two Harbor Police boats were standing by, if Lorenzo tried to hit the open water. He couldn’t go far, with only one way to the Gulf of Mexico using the Rigolets.
Howard arrived at the building in a limousine. He and Mario would head to Olivia’s and then the lakefront marina. It was fitting that Olivia be present when Lorenzo was arrested, after so many unsuccessful attempts to kill her. She too wanted to spit in his eye when the police pushed him into the back seat of a police car.
Olivia walked out of the house when the car pulled up. Mario and Howard had transmitters hidden in their coats, with earpieces and microphones attached to the insides of the coat lapels. On the ride over, Mario hooked Olivia up with an earpiece, so she could be directed if needed. She wore a ladies’ pantsuit, the best outfit to keep her shoulder holster and gun out of sight.
The limousine parked across from the gangplank. The three walked up the ramp. At the entrance, they were stopped. One of Lorenzo’s heavies looked down a list of names. “I’m sorry. You’re not on the guest list today, Mr. DeLuca.”
Mario reached for his gun, ready for the first kill of the day. Howard stepped back, prepared to draw down on the guy as he scanned to see how many others might have to be eliminated.
“Let me check with Mr. Lorenzo,” the thug said. A few seconds later, the okay was given.
All three ordered drinks from the bartender. There was a lot of activity for being so early. The rich were usually fashionably late. A string band played soft music for what would be an enjoyable cruise for some people—others not so much.
“Little Pete and Gustavo Martino,” Mario whispered. “Corner right side.”
Howard nodded his head. “Copy.” The music didn’t interfere with the radio mic.
Mario glanced at his watch. “Show time.” He took a gulp of his drink and walked to the stairway that led to Lorenzo’s office.
Howard walked out, climbed over a railing, and jumped to the bottom floor, avoiding the guards at the exterior stairway. He carefully stood under the only window in Lorenzo’s office.
From the main floor, Mario was stopped by one of the oversize thugs protecting Lorenzo’s office at the top of the stairway. Before the big guy could blink, Mario hit him in the neck with a stun gun. Falling to the bottom floor, Mario tucked him away under the stairwell, then gave him another hit.
Mario surprised Lorenzo at his desk with Issac Garza, a guy he’d only met once through Howard as the money laundryman from Panama.
“My friend, Mario,” Lorenzo said, keeping calm for the unexpected visit. “Mikey!” he called out.
“Big fat fuck Mikey?” Mario said. “He’s napping under the stairwell.”
Lorenzo’s eyes widened, his nostrils flared, and his complexion got rosy red. Mario turned the computer screen around and saw his Panama account balance of one dollar.
“Having money problems?” Mario chuckled. “Are you missing 12,566,879 dollars?”
Lorenzo became enraged, “How did you know that number?”
“Because I have your money,” Mario smiled. “Not the feds, not the city police, me!” Then a thought came from nowhere. It could be straw that broke the camel’s back and put Lorenzo into a full-blown panic attack. “Well, I didn’t do it alone. Issac Garza was a big help.”
Issac’s eyes all but popped out of his head, “I’ve never seen this guy before.”
“Sure, go with that story,” Mario said.
Lorenzo pulled a gun from the desk drawer. Pointing at Issac, “You waltz in here all concerned that my money is missing. All the while you two teamed up.”
“Lorenzo, listen to yourself,” Issac begged. “This dirty cop is working you.”
Mario saw Howard on the job, viewing everything from the window.
Without warning, Lorenzo shot Issac. Mario pulled his gun. It was a standoff.
“Where is my fucking money!”
“A little payback from Olivia—and me.”
“Well, a little surprise,” Lorenzo said. “Not all the money belongs to me.”
“Who cares? I’ve fucked you over,” Mario said. “That’s all that matters.”
“Put the gun down,” a voice said. Mario felt the cold barrel against the back of his head.
“Shoot him, Mikey,” Lorenzo shouted.
“First, I’m going to fuck him up,” Mikey said. “Hit me with a stun gun, motherfucker.” He dropped Mario to the ground with one forceful blow to his back. From the floor angle, he couldn’t see Howard. Mario tried to roll into view, but Mikey with his massive hands and strength pulled him back. “Goodbye, Mr. Cop,” he said, standing over Mario with his gun pointed at his head.
Olivia had heard everything on the transmitter and slipped down the steps. Slimming her way against the wall, she made it to Lorenzo’s office. Without a word, she fired her gun once, hitting Mikey in the back. It shook him but didn’t kill the big guy. He turned, and Olivia shot again with two in the neck, in case he wore a vest.
Window glass shattered whe
n Howard fired and hit Lorenzo. He fell dead into his desk chair. Olivia made sure and emptied her clip into Lorenzo, walking closer with every shot, screaming, “Payback is a bitch!”
Howard joined Mario and Olivia on the plush sofa with three dead bodies at their feet. They heard footsteps and screams as the invasion commenced by the SWAT, the FBI, and the Harbor Police. The three got their stories on point about why they had to kill Lorenzo and the bodyguard. Issac was easy to explain, because Lorenzo’s gun fired the deadly shot. Mario took charge, laying out that they did nothing wrong.
“We’re three seasoned cops and did what we had to do,” Mario said. “Two fewer bad guys off the street is a plus for the city.” That was the story they would stick to.
Chapter 30
Mayor O’Keefe talked for ten minutes at the press conference with Chief Parks and Mario standing behind him. At the foot of police headquarters, he stood at a podium in front of every local TV and radio station microphone. The mayor took credit for cleaning up the streets of New Orleans. Also he used the platform to announce he was running for re-election.
Gretchen Parks squeezed Mario’s hand. He gave her a wink.
“My grandfather would be proud of you,” she whispered. “I thank you for taking down the Savino family. Their family killed Grandpa Parks thirty years ago; now I can let it go.”
Chief Parks held her own press conference in the office. She introduced Mario DeLuca and Howard Blitz as the two detectives who took down the Savino family, helped by Olivia Johansson, after a two-year undercover investigation. French Quarter properties, five million dollars in street value drugs, and over a million dollars in cash were seized from bank accounts.
The three officers smiled, accepted decorations from the police chief with a firm handshake in front of TV and newspaper cameras. Chief of Detectives Gretchen Parks gave a brief statement.
The meeting broke. Mario made a phone call. “Glenn,” Mario said when he answered. “Why were you not at the press conference?”
Vieux Carré Detective Page 17