The Last Straw, page 6
“Do you recognize any of the girls from Cassie’s apartment?” Kate asked, craning to see out of the driver’s side just as I was doing on the passenger’s side.
“No, I don’t,” I said. “But I probably wouldn’t recognize any of them. Becky was the only one I got a really good look at, and I doubt she’d be out on the street today.”
“If she is, that means Dan Morelli is a real son of a bitch.”
One of the girls did look remotely familiar, but I couldn’t be sure. I certainly didn’t see Becky Morgan.
We continued on for several blocks. It seemed that particular stretch was lined with vagrants and people up to no good.
Finally, at the next corner, I saw someone I certainly hadn’t expected: Durag Eddie!
I pointed at Eddie and Kate saw him, too. She slowed to pull over. Eddie had his back to us. He didn’t notice us. He was looking around the corner, talking to someone we couldn’t see from where we were. But I could tell he wasn’t happy. In fact, he looked scared out of his brains.
I was about to crack the window in order to hear what they were saying when a pair of hands appeared and shoved Eddie… hard.
Eddie, being a tall black kid with a rap sheet way too long for a kid his age, looked like the type that could handle himself in a fight. But looks can be deceiving. He almost fell over backward. He staggered back, let out a screech and turned like he was going to run.
I figured running away must be Durag Eddie’s signature move.
Anyway, before he was able to run, a big guy wearing a pair of dark sunglasses stepped quickly forward around the corner and grabbed the back of Eddie’s T-shirt and yanked him back.
That the guy was up to no good was easily apparent: what kind of an idiot wears sunglasses that late in the evening? The sun was literally below the horizon.
Sunglasses was wearing a dark shirt tucked into a pair of black or navy pants. He was wearing a good-looking pair of black Nikes. In short, he looked like a plain-clothed cop. Which, no doubt, explained why Eddie had run from us.
A second thug, similarly dressed, complete with shades, stepped around the corner, said something to Eddie, and punched him hard in the gut. And that did it for me.
The car door was open and I was out on the sidewalk in less than a second.
“Harry, wait!” Kate called. But she was too late.
I broke into a run.
Sure, Eddie had been a suspect earlier this afternoon, but we’d cleared him already. Now he was a mourning boyfriend and was being harassed by a couple of goons. Someone was beating him up no more than two hours after we’d talked to him. You think I was going to sit by and watch two heavies beat the kid to a pulp? That wasn’t happening!
11
You know the worst part about wearing sunglasses after dark? You can’t see anyone coming.
The thug with a fistful of Eddie’s shirt had just enough of his back to me that I had the element of surprise, and I had him in a headlock before he had a chance to tense up.
“Police! Let the kid go!” I said.
Sunglasses let go of Eddie’s collar. The kid dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, cradling his stomach with both hands.
Thug number two must have been hard of hearing. Either that or he didn’t give a damn, because he stepped around Eddie and took a swing at me. A really slow swing.
I dodged the punch easily enough, just by moving my head and shoulders a little to one side. But that maneuver caused me to take my attention off of Sunglasses, and he stomped on my foot. Hard.
I yelled out in surprise and pain, just as Sunglasses elbowed me in the ribs. The hit wasn’t all that hard, but my mind was still on my foot. My second-to-smallest toe was screaming at me.
Thug number two took another swing at me. This time, he got me right in the eye. I was thrown to one side, right into the brick wall.
Now, that punch wasn’t a friendly gesture, but it did help. Like a bucket of cold water in the face, it took my mind off my foot long enough for me to take stock of my situation.
Eddie was still on the sidewalk, curled up in the fetal position. Really, kid? Keep it together! And I saw an opportunity.
I feigned being in more pain than I actually was. Sunglasses just stood there, grinning at me. I pushed off the brick wall, throwing myself toward him.
He raised his arms like a boxer, protecting his face—or maybe it was his sunglasses. But I had no intention of punching him. Instead, I grabbed his forearms and shoved with everything I had.
The man was bigger and stronger than me—and I’m six-two and weigh two-fifteen. But he was also top-heavy and not too smart.
He shuffled backward from my push, tripped over Eddie’s legs and toppled over backwards.
By then, Thug number two was closing in for another attack, but this time I was ready for him. I faced him, fists up.
We were squared off, like two boxers in a ring.
“Come on, Buddy,” I said. I pointed at my quickly swelling eye. “Go for it. I owe you one.”
The thug smiled, ready for the fight. But a new voice made him think twice.
“Freeze!” Kate yelled.
We both turned and saw her in a classic, wide footed stance, her Glock trained on Number Two.
I grinned. It wasn’t going his way.
“What took you so long?” I asked.
Kate motioned with her chin over her shoulder. Another thug, a black guy with a black Polo shirt and slacks, was sitting on the sidewalk cradling his arm, a revolver on the floor beside him.
“You missed one,” Kate said. “He was about to get the drop on you.”
“Thanks, Partner.” I hadn’t noticed the third guy. Had he been behind the car the whole time?
Anyway, it didn’t matter, because all three thugs simultaneously decided to retreat. Sunglasses and Number Two turned and ran. A black van pulled up out of nowhere. The side door slid open. The goons jumped in and the van sped away, its tires squealing.
Kate and I turned just in time to see the third guy, the one Kate had dropped, pick up his gun and jump into a black Chevy Suburban, and it too burned rubber as it hauled ass after the van. They were out of sight in seconds.
“Geez,” I said. “Who the hell are those guys?”
Kate holstered her weapon. “I don’t know, Harry. But they aren’t Dan Morelli’s boys, that’s for sure.”
I had to agree. These guys were pros. Not that they were especially good at what they did; they weren’t. Sunglasses in particular looked and acted like a total idiot, but they were the kind of thugs you could hire to do your bidding without asking questions. And those black vehicles? They alone told me we were dealing with no petty criminals; these people, whoever they were, were well organized. Not the kind of operation Dan Morelli was running.
Eddie struggled to get up. I helped him to his feet, and we walked back to the cruiser. He was so dazed he didn’t even notice what was happening until we were all in the car: Eddie in the back and Kate and me in the front.
Suddenly, his eyes widened. “Wait! Please don’t take me in. I didn’t do nothin’, I swear!”
“Relax, kid,” I said. “You’re not under arrest. We just want to talk. You’re welcome, by the way.”
Kate had started the engine and crawled her way up the street. She looked at Eddie in the mirror. “Are those the same guys that were threatening you before?” she asked.
Eddie nodded. “I didn’t recognize them, but I think they were with the same group.”
The same group? Geez, how many of them are there?
I was half turned around in my seat as I looked Eddie up and down. Poor kid; he was in way over his head. Whatever it was.
“Look, Eddie,” I said. “You’ve got to help us out here. Are you sure you don’t know who those guys are or what they want?”
“No,” Eddie said, his voice squeaky. “They just told me to keep my mouth shut. I think they must have found out I was at the police department today and think I snitched, or something.”
I looked at him hard. “You have something to snitch about, Eddie?”
He shook his head desperately. “No, I swear to God, man! I don’t know nothin’!”
“What were you doing around here anyway?” Kate asked.
“I live a few blocks over. I was just going for a walk when they found me.”
I faced forward in my seat and thought about it. Eddie was bad luck, for sure. But why would someone be harassing him so much if he really didn’t know anything? What did they think he knew?
“Okay, Eddie,” I said. “We’ll take you home. But for Pete’s sake, I know you’ve had a hell of a day, but you’ve got to stay out of trouble this time.”
“You got that right,” Eddie said, his voice small. “Cassie’s gone. These guys keep coming around, and Becky won’t answer my messages. She probably thinks I’m responsible for all this.”
Eddie told us his address, and we dropped him off at a two-story townhouse that had seen better days ten years ago. We watched him safely inside, and then Kate pulled the cruiser out onto the street, heading slowly west.
“None of this makes any sense,” I said, more than a little frustrated.
“I hear you,” Kate replied. “What kind of trouble has he gotten himself into?”
“Huh! And he has no idea, apparently,” I added. “Although I still get the feeling he’s holding out on us. Not lying, exactly. But not telling us the whole story either.”
We drove in silence for a while. It was after seven and Kate was heading to my condo. Boy, do I need that. I could eat a dead dog right now!
She glanced over at me. “You’re going to have quite the shiner.” There was something about her smile that I recognized.
“Oh yeah,” I said, “and does it make me look like a tough guy?” I waggled my eyebrows up and down.
Kate laughed. “No, it makes you look like a guy that forgot to block a punch.”
“Very funny. I’ll take some pain pills at the condo and I’ll be fine. Finkle will have a fit when he sees it, but screw him… I’ll look funny for a day or two, so what? It won’t be the first time. I just hope I don’t walk with a limp, too. That guy really did a number on my foot. He must have weighed two-fifty. If I weren’t wearing my boots, I’d be in real trouble right now.”
Kate moaned. “I guess we’ll both be popping pills. My tooth is killing me. The dentist says he’ll let me know when he can get me in.”
Kate dropped me off at my condo, and I promised I’d pick her up in the morning in my Maxima.
I went inside, took four ibuprofen, showered and went to bed. I swear I was asleep the second my head hit the pillow.
It had been one hell of a busy day, especially for a Monday. But it was nothing compared to the craziness the next day would bring.
12
It was around eight-fifteen the next morning when I picked Kate up as promised.
Yes, even back then, I chose to drive a Maxima. Sure, I had the money to drive whatever I wanted. As you probably know, my mother came from old Chattanooga money. I was just a teenager when she died, but she left me a hefty inheritance. How much money, you might be wondering? Well, I don’t like to brag about the numbers, but let’s just say I wouldn’t have to be working as a cop unless I really wanted to; in fact, I could live in luxury and wouldn’t have to work another day for the rest of my life. And I could drive any car imaginable, but I’ve always preferred to keep a low profile and stick to a plain, old Maxima.
And what can I say? They’re great vehicles. Especially mine, since I’d made some, shall we say, very special after-market upgrades under the hood.
Anyway, Kate had some good news to tell me: the dentist would be able to check out her tooth that afternoon.
“That’s great,” I told her. “In the meantime, you probably know what I’d like to do.”
“Go talk to Dan Morelli, of course.”
I smiled, hit the gas and said, “You got it, assuming he’s not hanging around the apartments like yesterday. I’d also like to talk to Cassie’s sister again, and her roommates. They may have more of a clue about what’s going on than Eddie does.”
So it was settled: we’d stop by the apartments. Either we’d get to talk to the girls, which would be good, or we’d get to corner Dan Morelli and his gangster-wannabe nephew for some answers, which would be even better.
The orange and forest green Jeep was nowhere to be seen when we pulled into the parking lot of the rundown apartment building, so I figured it would be option number one: we’d be talking to the girls.
I knocked on the door to apartment number nine and waited, keeping a sharp eye out over my shoulder.
“Didn’t Morelli say he owned this whole apartment building?” I asked.
“Yeah, I think so… why?”
“Well, run down as it is, it’s still a substantial investment. So what’s he doing pimping out young girls when he owns all this real estate?”
She shrugged, “Who knows? Maybe it’s a power thing, but more likely he likes to sample his own product,” Kate said, frowning.
I had to knock two more times before the tall girl with curly hair finally opened the door.
“Hello,” I said, smiling. “It’s me again, Detective Harry Starke. And you remember Kate Gazzara, don’t you? Can we come in and talk for a minute?”
She opened the door and stepped aside to let us in.
I looked at Kate, stepped aside, and she shrugged and walked past me into the apartment. So far, so good!
Yesterday, the girls were all scared to even talk to us. Now, Curly was treating us like we were old friends. What’s different? I wondered.
One of the other girls was lying on the ratty old couch in the living room, earbuds in her ears. The music she was listening to was so loud I could hear it from across the room. No wonder she didn’t bother to get up and answer the door.
The girl looked up and paused her music.
A third girl wearing flannel pajamas and owl-like glasses came in from the back hallway, so now we had quite a little audience. She grabbed Earbuds’ feet, swept them off the couch and sat down beside her. Curly dropped into a ratty, overstuffed leather easy chair, leaving us standing and staring at them.
I cleared my throat and said, “Uh, girls, we’d like to ask y’all a couple of questions, if that’s okay.”
A fourth young lady wearing nothing but her underwear poked her head out of what I assumed was a bedroom door down the hallway, ducked back in, only to come out again a second later wearing a fluffy bathrobe. She too sat down on the couch. I smiled. They all had their hands clasped together in their laps: Eeny, Meeny and Miny, I thought; Curly being Moe.
“Where’s Becky Morgan?” I asked, looking the four girls over.
“She left yesterday,” Earbuds said. “Probably won’t be back.”
“Her family lives in Arkansas,” Curly added. “She called them and they asked her to come home. Guess they’ll all be back to, I don’t know, set up a funeral or whatever. But she ain’t coming back here.”
I supposed “here” meant the apartment.
I took out my notebook, flipped it open and started jotting down details.
“How long had Cassie and Becky been, you know, working here?” Kate asked.
“About a year,” the girl with the glasses said. “I don’t know, maybe a little longer than that.”
“Uh-huh,” I muttered, making a note. “And is that when Cassie started working on the streets, too?”
The girls all looked at one another. They knew what I was asking. I wanted to know how young Cassie was when Dan started pimping her out.
“No,” Curly said. “She just started a couple of months ago. At first, she was just here because of Becky. Becky didn’t want her working at all, but Cassie insisted. Said she needed the money.”
“Okay,” I said, still looking down at my notebook. “And how long had Cassie been doing drugs?” I asked casually, as if it was no big deal.
Silence. I looked up from my notebook expectantly.
All four girls just stared at me.
“Oh, come on, girls,” I said. “We found traces of cocaine in Cassie’s purse. Don’t tell me she was clean and bought the purse at Goodwill the day before.”
The girl in the bathrobe—she also had a nose ring—said, angrily, “No way did Cassie do drugs. None of us do. Dan won’t allow it.”
“But,” Glasses added, “sometimes, the… guys we’re with get into it. We just play along, but we don’t use… ev-er.”
I looked at them, establishing eye contact with each one in turn, putting on as much pressure as possible.
The girls looked right back at me, all of them. They didn’t even blink, not one of them. Okay, so maybe they were clean. I shook my head. I didn’t get it. If what they were telling us was true… and I had to believe it was, then these four kids, and Cassie and her sister, were smart… So what the hell were they doing playing hooker for Sad Sack Dan Morelli?
Kate spoke up, interrupting my thoughts, “Okay, so why don’t you tell us about Dan Morelli. Is he a good… uh, landlord?”
The girls frowned.
“What do you mean?” Curly Hair said. “Like is he nice?” She shrugged. “I guess he’s nice enough.”
“Does he ever hit any of you girls? How about Tony, his nephew?”
“No,” Glasses said.
“I mean, like he yells a lot,” Nose Ring added. “He threatens us sometimes, but he’s never hurt any of us.”
“What about the other people that work for Dan?” I asked.
Glasses frowned. “You mean like the building manager?”
I shook my head. “No, not the apartment staff. What about other guys, the guys he uses for muscle. What about them?”
There was a moment of silence. The girls looked at each other, frowning, completely confused.
Finally, Nose Ring said, “You’re kidding, right? There’s only Tony. At least that’s all I’ve ever seen.”
“Now wait a minute,” I said. “You’re telling me Dan Morelli owns this building and manages you girls, and all he has for muscle is Tony?”
