Dark Alleys

by Rick Polad

  “Okay. If one did, we would be intercepted by one of my group before we walked five steps. But it has never happened.”

  “Okay. But there’s one more thing.” Spencer had saved his best ammo for last. “Do you remember walking through the alley and going past dumpsters on your left?”

  “Sure. So?”

  “So, the last girl killed was found by a dumpster. The papers didn’t tell the whole story. What happened to her body was not pretty. I’ll spare you the details.”

  “Thank you. But what does that have to do with me?”

  “As you walked through that alley, there was a bum lying by the dumpsters both times. Who knows who he was or what he was waiting for.”

  “In this case, I do. Look to your left.”

  Spencer had already noticed the thin man standing under a window. “So?”

  “So? Cleans up pretty nicely doesn’t he?”

  Spencer felt like a boxer who had come to within one punch of falling to the mat. But he had one punch left, even though he would admit he was grasping at straws.

  “There was another bum lying in a doorway.”

  “Yes there was. And both of those ‘bums’ had guns in case you did something stupid. The butt of one of those guns gave you that headache. Give up?”

  “Not only do I give up. You should be working for the Secret Service. The president doesn’t have this much protection.” He paused and became serious as he realized that all this protection meant something. “But one doesn’t need all this protection unless there is something bad around the corner. You carry an umbrella if there’s a chance of storms. But sometimes the storms blow apart the umbrella.”

  She nodded. “Point taken. Bottom line is, it’s my problem and my decision. But thank you for your concern.”

  “You’re welcome.” Spencer sat back in the chair and asked, “So, now what?”

  “Good question. I suppose you could go back in the basement.” She had a slight smirk on her face, but Spencer knew that was a possibility.

  “That’s not my first choice. Not even on my list,” Spencer said.

  “No, I imagine not. You, of course, would like to go. But something you said is bothering me.”

  Spencer waited.

  Laura played absently with a pencil on the desktop and looked up at Spencer. “You said you would spare me the details of what happened to the girl in the alley. How do you know those details?”

  Spencer felt trapped and he could feel his heart beating faster. He thought about what to say and decided to tell her the truth. “I have connections in the police department.”

  She didn’t look surprised. “Connections that share information about a serious crime?”

  He nodded.

  “Care to explain?”

  “Not much to explain,” he said with a shrug. “My father was a police captain till he was killed not too long ago. I have friends on the force.”

  There was not a bit of friendliness in Laura’s look. “That complicates things a bit.”

  “Why? You’re not doing anything illegal. Though they would frown on this, playing a prostitute is different from actually being one.”

  “That’s not my concern.”

  “Then what is?”

  She shook her head. “Not your business. Remember?”

  “Yeah. But maybe I could help.”

  “I have all the help I need.”

  Spencer looked around the room. The three men were staring at him, not moving a muscle. But he knew if they had to, they would move pretty fast. At the moment he was a problem. He needed to change that if he wanted to stay out of the basement. He had only one thought.

  “Okay. If I can’t help you, then how about if you help me.”

  Laura leaned forward slightly. “I’m listening.”

  Chapter 53

  Ben listened to the dead line for a few seconds and then hung up the phone and stared at it, wondering what had just happened. He picked it up again and dialed Spencer’s home number. No answer. Next, he paged Spencer and waited fifteen minutes, trying not to worry as the time went by.

  At 11:40, Ben called Lieutenant Powolski.

  “Lieutenant, this is Benjamin Tucker. Sorry to bother you at home.”

  “No bother, Ben. What’s up?”

  “I just got a very strange phone call.” After explaining the call to Stosh, Ben asked what to do.

  “Sit tight. Let me know if you hear anything else.”

  “Okay. Call me if you find something.”

  “Sure.”

  * * *

  Stosh hung up. “Crap.” What the hell had Spencer gotten himself into now?

  Chapter 54

  Can we talk in private?” Spencer asked tentatively.

  “This is as private as it gets.”

  There was a knock at the door. It opened and a new man stuck his head in. “Lunch,” the man said. Everything here was very businesslike. No wasted words. Very controlled. It was obvious that Laura was very much in charge. She had said she was paying them very well, and that certainly had a lot to do with the obedience, but Spencer knew it also had a lot to do with Laura. She was quite capable of being the boss and commanding respect.

  Laura nodded. The man disappeared and was back in twenty seconds with a cardboard box full of hot dogs. The four men in the room pulled a chair up to the table and unfolded the wrappers.

  “One for you, Spencer. Actually, two. You’re probably hungry. Join us.”

  Spencer looked at her tentatively and hesitated, even though he was starving.

  “Come on,” she said with a smile. “We’re not as bad as you think. Please, eat. It’s on the house.”

  Spencer pulled up his chair and squeezed in next to the gorilla at a corner.

  “They’re all the same. Jumbo dog with everything. Scrape off what you don’t want,” said Laura in a voice muffled with hot dog. “Grab some fries.”

  Spencer unwrapped his dog and picked off the peppers.

  Laura nodded and wiped mustard from the corner of her mouth. “Great hot dogs.” The napkin she used had a yellow LW in the corner.

  That’s your first mistake, thought Spencer. He knew he was close to Last Wiener.

  Chapter 55

  Charles had little recollection of what happened Friday night. He knew he started out at his local bar, but what happened after that was lost in an alcohol fog, brought on by far more than his normal drinking. With money in his pocket, he had bought round after round, reveling in choruses of For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.

  Sarah spent Saturday afternoons shopping with her sisters, and Charles looked forward to the time alone to relax and watch sports and recover from Friday night. He got out of bed and stretched. It was almost noon and he was hungry. And he was already looking forward to Saturday night.

  Chapter 56

  Everyone ate. No one said a word until Laura asked, “So, what do you have on your mind?” Spencer knew she was talking to him because it was obvious she didn’t care what was on anyone else’s mind.

  Spencer finished the last bite of hot dog, wiped his hands on a red LW napkin, and told Laura about the first three murders and the tie-in of the names to Jack the Ripper. Everyone finished eating. Laura at least looked at him while he talked, so he knew she was listening. The others seemed to not have any interest in what he was saying.

  “The fourth victim was Katherine Edows and the fifth was Elizabeth Stride.”

  Spencer had been carefully watching Laura as he talked. When he mentioned Katherine, she flinched and her eyes widened. But she quickly regained her composure.

  “So, what does that have to do with me?”

  “Nothing, directly. But if he sticks to the pattern, the next victim will be named some form of Katherine or Elizabeth.”

  Laura stood up, pulling her sweatshirt down over her hips. “And your plan is?”

  Spencer explained his idea of setting up a trap using a Katherine or Elizabeth as bait.

  Laura paced back
and forth while Spencer talked. The three men sat quietly. When he finished, she stared at him for a few seconds, then sat back down and screeched the wooden chair back from the desk.

  “What about the police?”

  “Not interested. Lack of manpower, expense, and the fact that it’s kind of a shot in the dark.”

  “To say the least. And why do you think I would want to help?”

  Spencer didn’t tell her he knew about her sister.

  “From what I’ve seen, with your protection, you have the perfect setup to give it a try. But it is dangerous. It’s not really something anyone should be doing.”

  “I agree. Remember I told you I don’t have a death wish.” She started to pace again. And she didn’t ask anyone in the room for their thoughts. “Let’s assume your theory is correct. First he’d have to find girls with the same names. How do you figure he did that?”

  Spencer was impressed with the way she thought. That was the first question to ask. “I’m not sure. A number of ways, I guess. Follow them home and look at mailboxes. Ask them on the street.”

  Laura nodded.

  Spencer took a deep breath. “So, are you thinking of doing this?”

  Stretch and the gorilla were watching Laura. Spencer had their interest. The other man was picking at his nails and looking indifferent. If he was working for her, he probably wasn’t indifferent. He could probably pull out a knife in an instant.

  “Thinking. But thinking and doing are two different things. And the odds of your plan working are slim. Michael, please get Mr. Manning’s things.”

  Spencer was baffled. The conversation didn’t seem over. Michael returned with Spencer’s change, watch, keys, and pager, and laid all but the pager on the table in front of Spencer. He picked them up.

  “So?” he asked.

  “So, you can go. You will be delivered to your car. I hope you take no offense at being blindfolded.”

  “Is my other choice being knocked on the head again?”

  She nodded.

  “In that case I take no offense.”

  “Good. Michael will return your pager when you reach your car.”

  “What about the murders?”

  “I’ll give it some more thought. I have your card.”

  “And what if I don’t hear from you?”

  She looked puzzled. “Then I’m not interested and we won’t see each other again. Right?”

  Spencer didn’t answer.

  “Mr. Manning, your other option is back in the basement.”

  That didn’t take much thought. “Right.”

  “Good. Michael will see you back to your car.”

  The gorilla placed a blindfold over Spencer’s eyes, led him to a car, and helped him in. He heard a garage door rise and the car windows close. The car pulled out and Spencer swayed to the right as the car turned left. His legs straddled the hump in the back seat and he felt a person on either side of him.

  Spencer tried to pick up street sounds, but the car was almost soundproof. He started to keep track of the turns. If they started from the area of Last Wiener, he should be able to trace the path back to the apartment. But, six turns later, Spencer lost track of the path and they were driving much longer than the time it should have taken to get back. They were obviously driving out of the way and then doubling back. He lost track of both the path and time. Once in a while he heard a faint horn or other traffic sounds, but they were of no help. Considering that he didn’t want to end up back in the basement, he finally decided it didn’t matter where Laura was—he would have to be satisfied with letting her find him.

  * * *

  Stretch had heard everything Spencer had to say. It sounded dangerous. But it wasn’t his life on the line and he was making much more money than he could ever hope for anywhere else. He didn’t know how long that would last, but while it was here he was going to take advantage of it. And he wasn’t going to do anything to screw it up. Laura had bought his loyalty, and he was willing to give her all his effort. He had some thoughts about what was going on, but she had made it clear that she wanted a job done with no questions, so he had stopped asking. As time went by, he had gained more and more respect for her, and it was not all about the money. She knew what she was doing, and he was happy to work for her. He would do everything in his power to keep her safe.

  Chapter 57

  The car finally stopped and backed into a parking space. Spencer felt someone lift the blindfold from his face. As his eyes adjusted, he saw the gorilla holding out his pager. Spencer took it and the gorilla got out of the car and held the door for him. No one said a word.

  The vehicle was a silver BMW and was parked across the street and a few cars down from Spencer’s Mustang. He got the license plate but knew that would get him nothing. The BMW pulled out and sped down the street.

  Spencer turned on his pager and hung it on his belt. As he was walking back to his car, the beeper vibrated.

  Pages from Stosh and Ben. He found a phone and called Stosh first.

  Stosh breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you alright?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good.” Then the anger came out. “Jesus Christ, where the hell have you been?”

  “Well, if you want an accurate answer to that, I don’t know.”

  “And what the hell does that mean?”

  “It means I was detained, but I’m not sure where. How do you know I had been somewhere?”

  “Because I got a call from Benjamin Tucker who’d received a strange phone call and then couldn’t get ahold of you. That was two hours ago.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh?” Stosh said with a raised voice. “That’s all you’ve got to say? You’ve had two friends worried about what hole you’d fallen into and all you say is oh? What the hell is going on?”

  Hating to admit what had happened, Spencer filled Stosh in on the events since Friday night.

  “Jesus, Spencer. Maybe you should think about another line of work. Or maybe you should hire Miss Justine, or whatever she’s calling herself these days. She’s better at what you do than you are.”

  That hurt, but Stosh was right. Spencer realized his mistake was in underestimating Laura and letting his guard down—twice.

  “She is good.”

  “What’s going on there?”

  “Only thing I can figure is the sister angle.”

  “Anything illegal?”

  “Don’t think so, but who knows. Even the people working for her have no clue. She’s a very shrewd woman. Whatever it is, she knows exactly what she’s doing.”

  “Anything you need me for?”

  “No. Everything’s fine.”

  “And is everything over?”

  “Over?”

  “Yeah, over. Is this the last time she’s going to lead you into an alley?”

  “Yes, sir. Whatever she’s doing isn’t my concern.”

  “That is correct. But that doesn’t mean you won’t be concerned.”

  “No, I guess it doesn’t. But I’m pretty sure. Anything happen last night?”

  “Nope, Friday stayed home. Do me a favor. Call Ben and let him know you’re okay.”

  The phone went dead. Spencer drove home, called Ben, and, after filling him in, made plans to meet for breakfast at Sunnyside Up on Sunday.

  Chapter 58

  Spencer was already at a table sipping coffee when Ben walked in.

  “So, done in by a woman. Tsk tsk tsk.”

  “Yeah, funny. Wait till you get my bill.”

  Ben laughed. “You think you’ll hear from her?”

  “No clue.”

  Ben ordered coffee. “Any idea what she’s doing?”

  Spencer told Ben about his chat with Tim and the sister possibility.

  “Makes sense,” said Ben. “But how likely is it?”

  “Just a possibility. But it’s the best I’ve heard so far. The police came up empty.”

  They ate and Ben picked up the bill.

  Chapte
r 59

  Detectives Lonnigan and Steele turned onto Glenlake and stopped behind the three squad cars and a fire department ambulance at the end of the street. Nice way to start the week. Two officers were stringing yellow tape from tree to tree. A small crowd of curious onlookers had already formed across the street.

  “Nice view,” mumbled Ronny Steele around the fat, unlit cigar that was stuck in his mouth. He nodded toward the beach.

  “Yeah, great,” returned Rosie. She walked to the sand at the end of the street and looked out onto the beach. Ronny breathed as much as he could of the cigar through his mouth and longed for the days when he could smoke in the car without complaints.

  Rosie Lonnigan rejoined her partner in the driveway and waited for Officer Chambers to reach them with the yellow tape.

  “Morning, Chambers,” she said with a friendliness she didn’t waste on her partner.

  “Morning, Detectives.”

  Steele grunted.

  “Mike, when you finish the front here, would you tape the beach too? Up to the end of the rocks at the north and down to that breakwall to the south. One of you watch the beach and make sure no one gets out there.”

  “Sure thing, Detective.” He glared at Steele.

  The police had received a call at 7:25 Monday morning from a hysterical lady with a Spanish accent. She claimed a lady was dead. Two squad cars responded at 7:30 and verified that the lady of the house was indeed dead. Lonnigan and Steele were early for the day shift, but were the only detectives in the station and agreed to take the call. They arrived on the scene at 7:50. A third squad arrived just after them.

  “What’ve we got, Mike?” asked Rosie.

  Letting the tape droop, he answered, “One dead female up in the study. Amanda Brock, owner of the house. The housekeeper, Margaret Rivera, found her shortly after she got to work this morning.”

  “Any sign of what happened?” Rosie glanced at Steele, wishing he would show interest in something besides rolling his cigar between fat fingers.