Book Read Free

Joey Mancuso Mysteries Box Set

Page 112

by Owen Parr


  “Thank you, Al,” I said. I sat back and put my phone away.

  Octavio approached me with a bag. I’d forgotten he was still here.

  “Tapas for your trip. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

  The bag had some delicious, distinct aromas. “Not now, but I’m sure I’ll be. Thank you.”

  “Were you able to get anything from Mrs. Sofia?”

  “Nada, nada. Hopefully, both her and her sister are thinking about it. They’re cool operators. Maybe their need to survive might trigger a call.” Just as I said that, a lightbulb went on in my head.

  “Excuse me, Octavio, I need to make this call.” I punched Agnes on my favorite’s list.

  “Joey, how are you? We just left the hospital. Marcy is driving Father Dom back, and Patrick is following.”

  “That’s good news, Agnes. Listen, I need your computer expertise. Are you home yet?”

  “I’ll be there in about ten minutes. What is it you need?”

  “As soon as you get home, do your thing and get into Maestro’s cell account. Can you do that? You have his number, right?”

  “Affirmative on both. What am I looking for?”

  “Go back and check the calls he made before Dom got shot. I want to know who he spoke to the day of and before.”

  “You think he shot at Father Dom?”

  “He happens to drive the same kind of car the witness might have seen. I’m sure that Susana told him about Dom’s meeting with her.”

  “Oh my god. You think he wanted to kill him?”

  “No, no, relax. I think they wanted to send a message, not kill anyone.”

  “So, what am I looking for?”

  “I’m about to board my flight. Don’t know if I’ll have service. Check to see if Maestro made any calls to Barcelona or Daufuskie Island.”

  42

  The flight was long and tedious. Lousy weather kept tossing the plane around. Now I know how my socks felt inside the washing machine, and maybe the reason why they always escaped. Needless to say, I was anxious, and the inability to email, text, or call home made it even worse. At least I knew Dom was recovering and resting at our house. This had been a new and unwanted experience for him, and one he would not forget—or let me forget.

  I arrived at the madhouse that was La Guardia a little after one in the afternoon. Jet-lagged and tired, I looked for Marcy in the arrival area outside the parking lot. Finally spotting her, I threw my bag in the backseat and proceeded to slide in the passenger side.

  “How’s Dom?”

  “He’s doing good. Stitched up, but nothing serious. Patrick is with him. How did it go with Mrs. Stevens?”

  I thought for a minute and decided to not take any credit for passing on the seduction part of the meeting. Had I mentioned that, she would have retorted, ‘Why would she even think you would have gone to bed with her?’ And that was a no-win conversation. Instead, I replied, “Like Dom’s conversation with Susana, my conversation with Sofia went nowhere. She didn’t drop a dime on the partners or Maestro. I thought for sure I could appeal to their sense of survival and greed.”

  “They still might go for it.”

  “Yeah. Or, they might pack it in and skip town. I don’t think I was convincing enough to make Sofia think I’d ignore their role in whatever they’re involved in now.”

  “By the way, you didn’t tell me about the visit you had at the pub. What was that all about?”

  “Who told you? Dom?”

  “Patrick and Agnes. They were pretty freaked out about it. We had time in the waiting room. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I was freaked out myself. It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you, I just had too many things going on.”

  “So, who was it?” she asked, turning to look at me.

  “It was a rep from Ancestry.com, updating me on my family tree,” I replied, smiling back at her.

  “You’re so full of shit. Was it a member of an organized crime family?”

  “The gentlemen never gave me his name. And, for the record, they don’t call themselves an organized crime family. They’re business people.”

  “Of course, they are. So, what did he want?”

  “Look, I didn’t tell the others, but it seems I have an great uncle named Michael Mancuso.”

  Marcy was weaving in and out of traffic, and she almost stopped the car in the middle of the road. “As in Michael ‘The Nose’ Mancuso, the boss of the Bonanno family?” she asked in amazement.

  “Maybe.”

  “Shit, Joey, I may have to update my disclosures at the Bureau if that’s true. You didn’t know this?”

  “Of course, I didn’t know. I knew about Michael Mancuso, but I had no idea he was my grandfather Vittorio’s brother. We never spoke about that at home.”

  “And for a good reason, probably. How old is this guy?”

  “I have no idea. He must be a much younger brother. There’s more to the story.”

  “Oh, like what?”

  “The money my mother received as a life insurance policy settlement when Dad died, well, that was like a gift from them?”

  “Shit, that’s too much information.”

  “Yeah? Plus, the pension she gets monthly.”

  “Don’t tell me it’s also from them.”

  “Okay. I won’t tell you.”

  “Does your mother know?”

  “I don’t think so, but this man told me to say hello to her.”

  “You can ask her tomorrow. She’s coming to help out with Father Dom.”

  “Hell no. I’m not talking to her about this. Where are we going to put her up?”

  “Dom says he has a room for her at the rectory. They can stay there.”

  “I don’t want Dom to be without some kind of protection. Not until we know what’s going on.”

  “Maybe you can work your two detectives and Patrick into some kind of rotation. How long could it be?”

  “I hope not more than a handful of days. I want to close this case.”

  “You think these people put out a hit on Dom?”

  “I think they were trying to scare us off the case. And, since I was out of town, they chose Dom to do it with.”

  “He’s not going to let you forget this.”

  “I know. I think Susana drove Maestro to do this. The lady witness might help with that. If so, Maestro made a mistake in doing it himself. His car might be the key.”

  “You think Maestro is the shooter?”

  “It happened so fast after Dom spoke to Susana, they probably got desperate, and Maestro did it himself.”

  “But, you have nothing to go on. Just your gut feeling.”

  “Speaking of feeling, how are you feeling these days?

  “You keep asking that. I’m fine.”

  “Didn’t you say on the phone that you wanted to share something with me?”

  “No big deal. It can wait.”

  We were crossing the Queens Midtown Tunnel to get on FDR Drive when my phone rang. “This is Mancuso.”

  “Mancuso, this is Detective Oliva.”

  “Hey Al, I’m back in town. Any good news?”

  “Yes and no. Maestro’s car fits the description. In fact, the car she saw did have the tint peeling off the back window. The witness said it could definitely be the car. That’s the good news.”

  “We got him.”

  “Not so fast. The bad news is that we picked up Maestro for questioning, and he alibied out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He was with a client at the same time the shooting took place. We checked out his alibi, and it’s correct.”

  “He was with a client? I bet I know who the client is.”

  “If you know that, then I’ll know why they call you The Great Mancuso.”

  “Hah. I bet you cannolis to dollars that the client is Susana Wetherly.”

  “Shit! I owe you a box of cannolis. How the hell did you know that?”

  “I cheated. Susan Wetherly is ano
ther person of interest we’re looking at for our case.”

  “Well, in that case, we’re screwed. All we have is the peeling window on a black Mercedes CLS. By the way, he doesn’t own any firearms.”

  “Did Maestro have an attorney present?”

  “No, no. He was very cool about the whole thing. Didn’t even get upset or anything.”

  “Of course not. He had a bogus alibi, but an alibi nonetheless.”

  “Yeah. That puts us back to square one. Sorry, buddy.”

  “Did you show this lady the six-pack?”

  “She didn’t even blink at Maestro’s photo. She didn’t see the face.”

  “So, I take it a warrant to search his place is out of the question.”

  “There’s no probable cause. Plus, if it was him, that gun is at the bottom of the Hudson.”

  “Any cameras in the area of the church?”

  “Nada.”

  “Can you put a tail on Maestro?”

  “Joey, the department is not going to approve that overtime. Budgets are tight these days. Besides, I have nothing to justify that move.”

  “I understand. I’ll take care of it from my end.”

  “Keep me posted, Al. I’ll let you know if we come up with something.”

  I clicked off with Oliva. This wasn’t going very well. All our efforts were for naught so far. I knew these people were involved. A thought popped into my mind, so I dialed back. After two rings, he answered, and I asked, “Oliva, Joey here. Can you check if Susana Wetherly owns any guns?”

  “Good thought. Sure. I’ll let you know,” he said, clicking off.

  “What are you going to do?” Marcy asked.

  “Maybe I should question Maestro myself.”

  “And what? Beat it out of him?”

  I turned to face Marcy. “No, I guess I can’t do that, but you gave me an idea,” I said, reaching for my wallet and pulling out a crumpled napkin I had put away for safekeeping. “Drop me off at the pub. I’ve got to make a call.”

  43

  “Joey, you look tired,” Agnes offered as I walked into the office. “How did it go with Mrs. Stevens?

  “I am tired. I haven’t slept since I left here. I tried on the plane, but the ride was very rough. Barcelona was a bust, especially since I left the moment I heard about Dom.”

  “That was scary. Poor Father. That’s the last thing anyone expected in this case.”

  “I should have realized that there was a lot at stake here.”

  “What now?”

  “I need to make a call. Then, I’m going home to relieve Patrick and get some sleep. Do me a favor. I want a tail on Maestro any time he’s out of his home. Call Larry and Harry and put them on that.”

  “For how long?”

  “Until further notice. I don’t want this guy taking another shot at us.”

  “So, you think it’s him?”

  “Everything points to it, but he has an alibi. Susana is his alibi.”

  “That’s convenient.”

  “However, that also tells me she was in on the shooting.”

  I walked back to the pub side. Our manager, Riley, had just opened for business. The early hours of the afternoon attracted a few patrons for a beer or two. Usually, tourists walked in at that time. Of course, we had a couple of our regulars that enjoyed a serious drink in the afternoon. I took advantage of the few people, sat at the Woody Allen booth, and made a call I really didn’t want to make.

  A few minutes later, I tapped on the Uber app and was on my way home. Midway across the Brooklyn Bridge, Oliva called. “Yes, Al.”

  “She owns a twenty-two, Joey, and has a concealed permit.”

  “Bingo! How did she get a permit? It’s not easy.”

  “Her application says she occasionally carries stock certificates and bonds. You know, for her clients.”

  “What kind of twenty-two?”

  “A Smith and Wesson M&P compact.”

  “But again, no probable cause for a warrant to search her place.”

  “Unless we can find something else that ties her to the shooting.”

  “Yeah well, with my luck right now, the gun is probably at the bottom of the Hudson, like you said.”

  I clicked off Detective Oliva and sat in the car thinking. Something had to go our way. If Susana was in on the shooting, then she was not about to reveal that the partners or Maestro had anything to do with my dad’s murder. No, as a matter of fact, she was part of the whole thing from the start. Had Sofia known what Susana and Maestro had planned while she was with me? Were all six of my suspects involved?

  Just as I stepped out of the car in front of my building, Agnes called.

  “Joey, I’ve got something.”

  “Anything is good. What you got?”

  “Remember you asked me to check Maestro’s cell calls?”

  “What about them?”

  “Maestro called Barcelona the night before the shooting.”

  “Did he call Sofia’s cell or the home’s landline in Barcelona?”

  “He called both Barcelona numbers, and he spoke for about ten minutes on each call. No record of any calls to Daufuskie Island.”

  I remained quiet for a few seconds, taking this all in.

  “Joey, are you there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. This is good, Agnes. Thank you.”

  I walked into my apartment and found Dom and Patrick sitting in the living room. “Hey guys, good to see you. How are you feeling, brother?”

  “I think I feel better than how you look.”

  “I know. I need some sleep.”

  “Joey, our dear mother is coming to visit, and I’ll have her stay with me at the rectory. There’s an empty room there that she can have. We can’t all stay here.”

  “So, I’ve heard,” I didn’t want him worrying, and frankly, I didn’t really think they would try again. Their goal to scare us was successful, but we were not giving up. “I think it will be fine, brother.”

  “Does the police have any clues?” Dom asked.

  “We think it was Maestro trying to scare us off the case. They matched the car, but Susana Wetherly claimed to have been with him at the time.”

  “You think he was trying to kill me?”

  “From the caliber he used and at the distance he shot from, I don’t think that was their intent.”

  “Yeah, well, the son of a bitch could have fooled me. He almost killed my parishioner.”

  “How is he?”

  “Recovering slowly, but he’ll be fine.”

  “Did you see anything?” Any chance you saw the shooter’s face?”

  “No. I did see the same car the lady saw. It was driving slowly, and then it stopped in front of the church.”

  “Joey, I’m going to take off. I’ve agreed to take Father Dom to pick up your mother tomorrow. Then, I’ll drop them off at the church. I’ll stay with them for a while,” said Patrick.

  “Thank you, Mr. Pat, that’ll work just fine.”

  “I assume your trip to Barcelona didn’t produce any clues,” Dom said.

  “It was cut short. But, nothing so far.”

  “Are we out of options?” Patrick asked.

  “I made a call asking for a favor. We’ll see if it works out.”

  “Do I want to know?” Dom inquired.

  “No.”

  I could hardly keep my eyes opened. Between the jet lag and the lack of sleep, I couldn’t even think straight. “Guys, I’m going to take a shower and a nap. Marcy is bringing food for later.”

  Marcy woke me at six, after a two-hour nap. Had she not, I’d probably have slept right through the night.

  “Joey, get ready. I brought ribs, baked potatoes, and coleslaw.”

  “Yes, boss. I’ll be there in a minute.” As I got out of bed, I noticed I had three missed calls, but no voicemails. However, I recognized the number. I went into the bathroom and dialed the number.

  “Joey, I’m glad you called back. I’ve called three times.�
��

  “Yes sir, I saw that. Sorry I missed the calls.”

  “I heard about your brother. Is he all right?”

  “Yes, yes. Thank you for asking.”

  “Okay. I have some information for you. The people you’re looking for are the two older people on your list. You know, the names il Martello gave you. So, he was correct. Also, this person we talked to admitted to being at the church. You know what I mean?”

  “Yes, that’s great. Can he point the finger at the guilty parties?”

  “I’m afraid he’s not going to be available for that. He said he was going to sing like a canary. You’ll have to take it from here.”

  “Oh, I understand. Thank you for the information.”

  “Happy to help. Oh, and Joey, you owe us a favor.” The call went dead.

  Shit. This was like the good, the bad, and the ugly. I came out of the bathroom and sat on the bed a few minutes, thinking. Walking to the dining room to join Dom and Marcy for dinner, I said, “Well, I think we’re going to wrap this up soon. I have a plan, but I’m afraid I have to go to South Carolina and Barcelona again.”

  44

  Arriving at the Hilton Head-Savannah Airport, Captain Williams was waiting for me. I waved my phone at him, gesturing I needed to make a call.

  “Yes, Joey,” Agnes answered after two rings.

  “Do me a favor, cancel the tail on Maestro.”

  “It never started. Larry cannot find Maestro.”

  “Okay. Instead, have them follow Susana. I have a feeling she might be skipping town at any moment.”

  “What if she boards a plane?”

  “Find out where she’s headed and call me immediately. Gotta go, I’m here in Savannah.”

  After a few pleasantries and a discussion about the pending case Williams and I were involved in, we arrived at Harbor Town for the boat ride to Daufuskie Island.

  “Are you sure this is going to work?” the captain asked.

  “Captain, as you may know from experience, people who get away with murder don’t really do. Yes, they may be free and out and about, but internally they’re a mess. Their lives tend to spiral down, maybe in business or in health. That guilt they carry will manifest in various ways in their lives. Unless, of course, they’re cold killers or mentally unbalanced.”

 

‹ Prev