Crescent City Detective

by Vito Zuppardo

  Howard walked out with Landon by his arm and pushed him against a police car.

  With Dante and Landon locked in the back seat of a patrol car, Mario explained to the officers to bring them to Central Lockup and throw them in a holding cell until he could question them.

  “And who is this guy?” one officer asked, pointing to Howard. “New partner?”

  “No, just a friend,” Mario said. “He’s not to be in the report.”

  “I never saw him,” the officer said.

  The bank clock on the corner sounded—it was four p.m. Mario should have been at Kate’s house. He jumped into his police cruiser, ran a few traffic lights, and was heading up Saint Charles Avenue in no time.

  Ray, the family driver, had just pulled the SUV around when Mario arrived. The Fontenots were joining Kate in Paris for a week until she got settled. Ray pulled two large suitcases from the house and placed them in the back of the SUV. Kate had shipped boxes of personal items and summer and winter clothes a few days earlier by FedEx. An assistant waiting in Paris would have the apartment ready when Kate arrived.

  It was hard for Mario to understand. He went to college with all his items in two boxes—clothes on top of a coffee pot, toaster, and dishes. Then he unpacked the stuff himself. He didn’t understand the rich. They did nothing for themselves. Kate hadn’t even seen her apartment in Paris. A family assistant had secured it for her and prepared it for her arrival.

  The Fontenots came out the house and walked directly to the open door Ray held for them. Neither acknowledged Mario—not eye contact, a smile, or a whisper of hello. The Fontenots were living up to what Mario thought of them—they may be rich, but money couldn’t buy you a personality. They couldn’t even fake being nice and got in the back seat. Kate became visible in the doorway, giving Amelia a hug then walking towards Ray, who was holding the car door for her.

  Mario met her midway, and they said their goodbyes, mostly with their eyes. Very few words were said. Kate held herself together, giving Mario a kiss on the cheek and slipping her hand into his. They walked hand in hand to the SUV. Mario helped her in the back seat and stared at him as Ray closed the door.

  There was no need for Mario to look in his hand—it didn’t take a detective to know Kate had slipped her engagement ring in his hand as she gave him a kiss. Mario watched Kate as the SUV pulled away—tears ran down her face, and a feeling of emptiness came over him. Kate was gone and that quickly his feeling of emptiness turned to revenge towards all the people that had harmed her—and destroyed his life.

  CHAPTER 44

  Mario sat in the waiting room after being told Chief Parks and the mayor were meeting with some community members. He looked at his watch, and it was thirty minutes past his appointment time. So much for the emergency phone message he’d received early that morning. “The chief wants to see you at ten a.m. sharp,” the voice message said.

  The door opened, and two pastors, one black and another white, walked out the office. He recognized them from the ninth ward town meeting. Mario organized meetings with the pastors during his time with Gang Enforcement. The gathering was immediately after services on Wednesday nights, disguising the meeting as services running long. For a while, it worked and protected the assembly from the gangs retaliating against them for participating. Mario would talk a short time, maybe fifteen minutes, saying they had to stay united and report problems to him and be willing to go to court and testify—it was the only way to break the gangs and make their neighborhoods safe again. It worked for a while until the church started losing members due to intimidation by the ruthless street criminals. The pastors backed out of the meeting from the pressure of their members. In the end, the gangs won, and today the thugs controlled the area.

  Mario nodded his head. “Good morning, Pastor Monet.” They both greeted him with a smile and walked away. It was way too early in the morning for Pastor Monet to be downtown expressing his gratitude to the mayor and chief for outstanding community work. At eight in the morning, Pastor Monet was working hard on donations in the back of the church disguised by a breakfast he gave each morning for the homeless. An uneasiness came over Mario. An early morning session with the chief and mayor—that was a recipe for an ass-kicking, and he wasn’t prepared.

  The receptionist received a call and was told to send Mario to the office. He stood hesitantly for a second, hoping the mayor would exit before he walked in. No such luck.

  Opening the door, he greeted the chief and mayor and was told to take a seat. He was a little taken aback to see Nicole Morris walk out of the chief’s private bathroom and sit. They made eye contact, and Mario stood, extending his hand. He knew something was up with her limp handshake—if Mario hadn’t reached, she would not have acknowledged him at all.

  The chief didn’t warm the meeting up, no small talk, and hit quickly with him overstepping his authority yesterday and causing problems for the community.

  Mario had no clue where the chief was coming from with such a statement

  “You destroyed a restaurant and threw a customer through the front window.”

  “A customer! That is Dante Cruz I tangled with, and I had no choice.”

  “No choice?” the chief said, standing. “There are witnesses—you instigated the fight.”

  “The guy busted in the restaurant and took a seat.”

  “You’re not the restaurant police,” Chief Parks said.

  “I might add I broke open your problem in the French Quarter. A serious cyber shakedown. Something your task force couldn’t handle,” Mario said, turning to Nicole.

  The mayor, a short round guy, neatly dressed, with thinning hair slicked back, stood and rested his arms on the chief’s desk. Two community leaders had just cut him to the knees—their neighborhoods were in chaos. Dante and his bodyguard Landon were suing the city, and they had several witnesses that were willing to testify on their behalf. What a spin the preachers put on this incident, making Dante a victim.

  Mario stood towering over the mayor. He wasn’t taking blame without a fight. If the mayor wanted to get pissed off about something, it should be the affluent Saint Charles Avenue family that had been terrorized by these same people. The city tax dollars came from the wealthy people uptown, not the low-life gang members.

  Nicole jumped in. “Mario, what was the last thing I told you when you called me from the restaurant?”

  “I’m not sure.” Mario not wanting to give her the satisfaction of being correct.

  “I said ‘wait for backup.’”

  “Things got out of hand, and I had to secure the place.”

  An echo of all three of them shouting at the same time blasted the room. “Secure the place?! You threw him through a glass window!”

  The mayor walked behind Chief Parks chair and stood by her side, showing his support on the matter. “Detective Mario, we are putting you on leave for two weeks. At which time we will have determined if you’re ready to return to the detective division,” Chief Parks said. “One week with pay and one without pay. Please put your weapon and badge on my desk.”

  “Are you joking? Why?”

  The mayor took center stage, showing his authority. The great demanding pastors of the city felt he was too aggressive. The mayor was flapping his arms as he walked around the room like one of his preacher friends in the middle of an electrifying speech during Wednesday night church services. He claimed Mario was rebellious and fought police protocol, resulting in tossing a citizen in the street by way of a window.

  “Citizens! You mean thugs,” Mario shouted.

  “Not only the citizens but the merchants,” Chief Parks said. “Businesses suffered because of the violence in their restaurant. We have worked hard to keep order and rehabilitate the troubled neighborhoods.”

  “And how is that working for you, Chief?” Mario moved to the front of the desk. “Major crimes are up over the last three years—the city is out of control.”

  Mario shuddered to think the gangster
s had the upper hand and so much power over city officials, like their neighborhood wasn't in chaos before he strong-armed Dante. He took his gun, holster, and badge and placed them on the edge of the chief’s desk. He looked at the mayor, the chief, and Nicole, who took her shot at him when a chance came available—and in all probability was the ringleader of this circus. “It’s all about you keeping your votes in the inter-city, correct, Mayor? Keep the preachers happy, and he influences the votes your way,” Mario said.

  The mayor, red-faced, said, “Be careful, Detective. You’re out of line.”

  “You’re pushing for two weeks with no pay, Detective,” the chief said.

  Mario was not threatened by his superiors. He felt she could keep his two weeks’ pay. A part of his inner cop just didn’t care anymore. The city had become too policial. Catching bad guys wasn’t a priority. He looked at Nicole. “Commander Morris, a simple thank you would have been in order. After all, I solved your cybercrime your corrupt Gang Enforcement couldn’t do—or maybe they’re involved and just looked the other way.” Mario opened the door and walked out and didn’t bother to close the door behind him.

  “Two weeks no pay, Mario,” the chief shouted.

  Mario never turned around, but from the middle of the room, he shouted, “Don’t care.”

  CHAPTER 45

  Still feeling stung by the powers of the political machine running the city, Mario walked to the police parking garage. In addition to his two-week vacation without salary and no badge and gun, he was left without a car. Anything that was police property got stripped from him. He knew no connection to the job for two weeks would be hard. Popping the trunk open, he unlocked the steel box that bolted to the floor, keeping police weapons safe, and pulled out a 9mm military-grade handgun.

  The gun was taken from a thug in a shootout with a rival gang and lost. Mario, first on the scene, found him dead. In the man’s hand was a gun used for returned fire and a 9mm tucked in his waistband. Mario helped himself to the 9mm gun. It wasn’t unusual for a cop to have an extra piece with the serial numbers filed off, making it not traceable. He stuffed it into his coat pocket along with three clips for the semi-auto.

  Mario’s mind was a million miles away as he walked through the parking garage waving at a few officers. His suspension was too soon for them to know. Truman would work alone for the two weeks, and if needed, a rookie detective would assist. Mario planned to call Truman later and fill him in on his ambush by the chief and mayor. The only call he made prior to leaving was to his trusted friend, Howard, for a ride.

  Walking out of the dark underground garage, the sun blinded him. His eyes adjusted to the bright sun, as he stood on the corner of Broad and Tulane waiting for his limousine ride. What an ugly part of town. He’d driven past it so many times but never really witnessed it from ground level—it was nasty. The walkway was dirty, there was trash on the street, and homeless were living in the alleyway of an adjoining building to the police garage. You would think the mayor might put some effort into cleaning the city up and not worry about re-election, set for two years from now. In the political arena, the day you got in office, you worked on getting re-elected.

  The limousine pulled up. Mario got in the back seat.

  “Where to, sir?” Howard said.

  “How about lunch?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Howard said, pulling into traffic.

  “Someplace quiet. I have a story to tell you.”

  “I hope a funny story?” Howard said, looking in the rearview mirror.

  “Yeah, it’s hysterical—just left a meeting with the chief and mayor.”

  They drove to Café GG’s on the lake at Westend overlooking the marina. There was a long pier maybe two hundred feet over water to get to the front entrance of the Café. It gave you a panoramic view of the lake and boats.

  The man dressed in a white shirt and a skinny black tie seated them in a corner booth with a perfect view.

  “Is this quiet enough for you?” Howard asked.

  “Just what I need, other than a cocktail.”

  Howard looked at him strangely. It wasn’t like Mario to have a drink at lunch—in fact, never that he had ever seen.

  Mario ordered a Bloody Mary with a double shot of Grey Goose Vodka, not a usual drink for him in the middle of the day, but today was far from an ordinary day. Howard ordered hot tea along with lunch.

  Howard gave a smile. “So whats the funny story?”

  “You’re going to love this—”

  Fifteen minutes later and one drink down, Mario finished his story.

  “That is bloody crazy, Mario.”

  The waiter delivered the daily lunch specials and asked, “Another double, sir?”

  Mario agreed to another drink. After all, he had a designated driver and no place to go for two weeks.

  Mario looked out at the glass-enclosed room. The movement of boats when a yacht went through the channel caused smaller crafts to move from side to side. It was a tranquil surrounding and just what he needed at that time. Then he spotted across the way some bad memories.

  He could see the backside of Boathouse 72 where Darrell made the phone call with Felipe’s recorded message.

  “Your drink, sir,” the waiter said, putting Mario’s glass in front of him. Mario took a sip of the Bloody Mary and savored the taste of the Grey Goose. “Perfect—this makes for a good day,” Mario said, taking another sip.

  Howard spoke of some good news. Ben Stein gave him a contact name and number for the Savino family. Well, a spokesman for the family. Ben felt Mario had a slim chance of getting a meeting—they were not the easiest people to talk to, must less have a sit-down with.

  Mario cut him off talking when he noticed two ladies following the hostess to a table. His eyes lit up. He’d never seen Olivia in street clothes, and it was a pleasant surprise. At work, her hair was always up and she was dressed in a floppy top. Mario wasn’t sure if it was his two double Vodkas talking, but he never noticed her like this before.

  Howard agreed the ladies were head-turners and wanted to meet Olivia’s friend.

  Making his approach, Mario noticed her transition to a beautiful woman—Olivia had shoulder-length red hair, and she wore tight jeans and a white silk top with a leather vest.

  “Good afternoon, ladies,” Mario said.

  “Detective?” Olivia said, caught off guard.

  “You changed your hair.”

  “Yeah, blondes are supposed to have more fun, but it wasn’t working for me. So I got my hair cut and changed to red—trying a new look.”

  “Well,” Mario said, a little lost for words, “it sure works.”

  “Detective Mario, this is my mother, Jerri Johansson,” Olivia said.

  “Mother? You know you hear people say this, but I really thought you were her sister,” Mario said. It wasn’t like him to be so forward.

  Jerri, a little flustered, smiled.

  “Nice to meet you, Ms. Johansson.”

  “Please call me Jerri.”

  “Jerri, your daughter is the best forensic detective I’ve ever worked with,” Mario said with a slight slur.

  Olivia took Mario’s hand. she started to say she was sorry about Kate and stopped. She wasn’t really all that sad that Kate had moved to Paris. She squeezed his hand. “Mario, look at me. I heard about your meeting this morning.” They locked eyes. “It will work out—just rest up for the next two weeks, and everything will be okay.”

  Mario broke away. “Nice to see you, Olivia, and a pleasure to meet you, Jerri.” He took two steps and turned back to Olivia. “Hey, Tulane—you sure clean up good,” he said, and gave her a wink of his eye. They both blushed and smiled. Mario walked away, trying not to run into chairs back to his seat. The vodka had kicked in.

  “Wow, he’s a cutie,” Jerri said to Olivia.

  “His fiancée broke up with him—it’s a long, sad story,” Olivia said, keeping her eye on Mario as he wandered back to his booth.

  “W
ell, you know what they say?” Jerri said with a big smile.

  “What’s that?”

  “When one door closes, another door opens. I’d open that door. You might just find Mario behind it standing with open arms.”

  Olivia smiled, knowing what her mother meant.

  Mario got back to his table and felt like he was a teenager again. “Man, she is so fine, and the friend is her mother.”

  “Mother?” Howard said. “Perfect, that puts her around my age.”

  Howard’s phone rang, and he took it out of his pocket and answered. He had an airport pickup—code red for Julie Wong. He flipped the top and hung up.

  “New phone?” Mario said.

  “Yeah, it just came out. Ben always wants the latest technology. It’s a cool phone.”

  “The police department will get those phones in a year or so. The bad guys always have better technology than the police.”

  Howard paid for lunch and stood. He invited Mario for his airport pickup, thinking it would get Mario’s mind off his suspension. He’d enjoy meeting this client, a real kick-ass woman.

  Mario agreed. He had nothing better to do. He looked Olivia’s way and gave a wave. The vodka may have had a play in his thoughts, but Olivia put his world into a spin.

  CHAPTER 46

  Howard pulled the limousine into the New Orleans air charter terminal and parked on the side of a building facing the tarmac. His head was spinning from Mario’s conversation about Olivia the entire drive. There was no doubt Mario was knocked off his feet when he saw her in street clothes sporting a new hairdo. Howard got Mario’s mind relaxed long enough for him to explain a code red customer.

  Strapping his gun and shoulder holster to his chest, Howard took two extra ten-round clips and placed them in his coat pocket.