Streeter Box Set

by Michael Stone

  Streeter rolled his eyes. “A burglary? Doesn’t that seem a little ironic to you? Carol’s just been in the middle of a mess that left bodies all over town, and suddenly, a couple of days later, her house gets burglarized and she’s executed. This is one hell of a coincidence, Haney.”

  “So what are you saying? Swallow came back from the grave to kill her?” His voice rose in anger. “Give me a break. It’s a burglary, that much is clear. Plus, like I said, it matches the MO of those other home invasions. As far as an execution, that’s bullshit. Looks like the perp didn’t even mean to kill her. In fact, she may have done that herself.”

  “You’re calling this a burglary-suicide? That’s a stretch, even for you.”

  Haney frowned and shook his head like he was in pain. “No. That’s not what I’m saying. But one of the coroner’s guys told me it looked like she died accidentally. She was bound to the chair with her ankles tied to the legs, her hands tied behind her, and a rope around her stomach and the chair. The perp put masking tape over her mouth. It looks like what happened is that during all the excitement she couldn’t breathe right so she started thrashing around. She fell backward, smacking her head on the brick fireplace mantel. Nasty gash in her head back there. We’re not sure if she suffocated from the gag or if cracking her skull did it. Either way, it don’t look like that’s what the prowler had in mind. Like I said, with those other burglaries, none of the victims were killed.”

  Streeter stared at the door for a moment, then turned back to Haney. “If I can’t go inside, am I done here? I’d like to head out.”

  The sergeant nodded. “I know how to get in touch if I need to.”

  Terry Nathan was waiting behind the wheel of the Bronco when Streeter got there. He had come out shortly after the police took his statement.

  “You mind going over to Rodney’s?” Streeter asked as he got in. “Frank went there for dinner, and he usually likes to hang out and work the room when he’s done. You know him and a crowded bar.”

  Terry nodded and started the engine. “Fine with me. What’d they say in there?”

  “They think it was a burglary and that Carol died unintentionally. It’s a long story, but they wouldn’t let me go inside to look around.”

  “Be kind of ironic, wouldn’t it, Street? Her dying like that in a burglary right after all she went through with Swallow.”

  Streeter shot him a glance. “What’s with that word all of a sudden? I don’t hear anyone say ‘ironic’ for years and suddenly tonight everything’s so incredibly ironic.”

  Terry frowned. “Chill out a little. I only meant that it’s weird, you know, the way it all went down.”

  “Weird or not, that burglary crap seems too convenient. That’s what I want to talk to Frank about.”

  They took Speer southeast a couple of miles to the trendy Cherry Creek area. Rodney’s is a landmark watering hole for aging professionals who like meat specials, dim lighting, and martinis with an attitude. Though smoking isn’t actually mandatory, it’s certainly not discouraged. As he walked in, Streeter was tempted to buy a pack of Marlboros, but he didn’t. He spotted Frank talking to his accountant and having coffee and a brandy in a tall booth to the left of the front door.

  “Hey, Street, Terry,” he yelled, waving them over. The bondsman smiled and slid closer to the wall to let them sit down. As he did, his accountant stood up.

  “You don’t have to leave because of us,” Streeter said.

  “We’re all finished up, anyhow,” Frank responded. “He was just heading out, weren’t you, Arthur?”

  The accountant merely nodded and then left without a word. Frank rolled his eyes as the two men sat down. “Artie’s got all the personality of a broken toaster, but he’s a magician with numbers. So how’s things with little Carol Irwin? You manage to beat a confession out of her?”

  Terry and Streeter glanced at each other, and then the PI spoke. “You don’t want to be joking about that, Frank. We went over to her place tonight and found her dead.”

  The booth fell silent, and the buzz of conversation from the crowded bar took over. Frank’s lower jaw dropped and his eyes narrowed. “What the hell’s going on?” His voice trailed off.

  “Your pal Haney said it looks like a burglary that got out of hand,” Streeter explained. “She was tied up and gagged, and she may have died accidentally.”

  Just then the waitress appeared. Terry and Streeter each ordered a Beck’s.

  “How can that be?” Frank stroked absently at his chin with his linen napkin. “I mean, come on. She just puts you through all that with her old boyfriend and then she turns up dead. Very strange, not to mention very unlikely.”

  “That’s just what I was thinking. And thanks for not calling it very ironic.” Streeter paused. “Burglary, my ass. I’ll tell you this, I’m not going to leave it up to a second-rate moron like Haney to figure out.”

  “What are you driving at?” Terry asked.

  “Carol’s dead, and I don’t give a damn if the perp meant to kill her or not. If he hadn’t tied her up she’d still be alive. That’s murder one, last time I checked. Now, I don’t feel any loyalty to her, given what I think she and Swallow had in mind for me. But this is just a continuation of that mess on Monday and those attacks on Gagliano and Watts and Cullen. And I’d bet my Buick that whoever did it was involved with Irwin and Swallow somehow. Had to be. After talking to Haney, it’s clear the cops won’t be working along those lines. They see it as just a string of burglaries.” The waitress came back with their beers, put them on the table, and left. Streeter waited a moment and then added, “I’m going after this guy myself. The one who did Carol.”

  Terry winced and leaned forward. “Come on. What do you give a damn about all that for? The woman wanted you dead. Why work yourself up for her?”

  Streeter shook his head. “I’m not doing it for her. Look, I’m into this thing way too deep to drop out now. Besides, if I’m right about this burglar being connected to her and Swallow, he might just decide to come after me.”

  “Why would he?” Nathan asked and took a sip from his beer.

  “How do I know? But that’s what I intend to find out. This whole thing hasn’t made any sense right from the beginning. It’s about time we figure it out. About time it all ended, too.”

  “I wouldn’t try to talk him out of it,” Frank said to Nathan. “He gets a hold of an idea like this, he don’t let up.”

  The bounty hunter spoke again. “I know you got your hands full, Terry, running the business until Brian gets back. I don’t expect you to keep going with me.”

  “I just won’t have the time, Street.”

  Frank spoke to his partner. “So where do you look?”

  “Right where it all began,” Streeter said. “There’s no reason to believe that Irwin and Swallow knew each other before his arrest, so that looks like the starting point. I’ll read all there is about the bombing. Newspaper clips, court files, everything.”

  “What’ll that tell you?” Frank asked.

  “I won’t know until I do it. There’s got to be a common denominator, someone they both knew. Maybe Gagliano or Brian can remember someone hanging out at the trial. And I’ll want to talk to what’s-her-name. That bimbo Kevin was living with.”

  “Gina Gallo,” Dazzler said. “I’m sure that Phi Beta Kappa’ll be a lot of help.”

  “She might at that. Hell, she’s my only connection to Swallow. When you get into something like this, all you can do is grab as much information as you can and see where it leads you.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  Normally, Streeter would rather have taken polka lessons than study court records. But doing it without knowing what he was looking for was beyond agony. There must have been a foot and a half of transcripts, motions, and rulings. Still, he stuck with it for nearly two days. It wasn’t until Friday afternoon that he finally left the courthouse, with a stiff back and a more complete appreciation of what a lousy trial lawyer Carol was.
Neither of which helped. He couldn’t face another piece of paper, so he headed over to St. Joseph’s Hospital to talk to Brian Cullen.

  “I tell you what, podner,” Brian said over the food tray on his stomach. “I’m not all that inclined to want to see the guy that whacked Carol Irwin get caught. Hell, he should get a medal. Seems to me you’d be feeling pretty much the same way.”

  Streeter gave a quick shrug and waited.

  Cullen looked off to the side. “I’ll have to give it some thought, but offhand I can’t think of anyone from the trial who was close to those two.” He turned back. “Tell you one thing, Irwin and that little hunk of manure Swallow didn’t seem to even like each other back then. If they were carrying on, they did a good job of hiding it. I was there every day for both trials, too. If I can think of anyone, I’ll let you know.” Then his face brightened. “And, Streeter, thanks for taking care of business last Monday. Made me feel a might better to see Swallow go down like that.”

  When he got back to the church, Streeter called Steve Gagliano and got pretty much the same response.

  “Neither one of them seemed to have any friends. Period.” Steve was adamant. “I don’t think anyone visited Swallow the whole time, and Irwin never talked to people socially. Not that I didn’t try. That lady was one edible commodity. But, then, you know all about that. You were banging her pretty good back then, weren’t you?”

  Streeter glanced at the receiver. “So, tell me, Steve, how’s your crotch doing?” The phone at the other end slammed down hard.

  The next morning, Streeter decided to interview Gina Gallo. He called the jail and was told that she had bonded out two days earlier. She’d been charged with conspiracy, aiding and abetting, and several lesser counts. But because of her clean record and ties to the community, and because Officer Barrows had testified at her bond hearing that she’d tried to warn him, her bail was manageable. Gino put up his house as collateral, and his sister temporarily moved in with him. When Streeter called, Gino sounded glad to hear from him.

  “Gina told me how you pulled her bacon out of the fire there, Mr. Streeter,” Gino said. “You want to talk to her, just come on out anytime. She’s taking a shower now, so give her an hour or so.”

  The bounty hunter arrived shortly before noon. Gino, still moving stiffly under the same cheap toupee, invited him in and then yelled toward the rear of the house, “Gina, he’s here!” He turned back to his guest. “Let’s go talk in the kitchen. I’ve got coffee on and there’s more chairs in there. These trains take up a lot of space.” He nodded toward the elaborate setup.

  They walked to the kitchen, which was as orderly as the rest of the place. Gino had a set of fifties-looking vinyl and Formica table and chairs, all in faded salmon. Streeter sat down as Gina walked into the room. With no makeup and wearing khakis and a white blouse, she was barely recognizable. Subdued, but she seemed content.

  “Oh, Mr. Streeter,” she said, extending her hand to be shaken. “I want to tell you how truly grateful I am for you helping me, sir. If you didn’t push me and Jeff away, we both woulda died for sure.” She paused. “Gino said you wanted to ask me about Kev. I don’t know if I should talk about him, seeing as how we were so close. I don’t want to show any disrespect for the dead, you know.”

  Streeter noticed how round and plain her face looked without cosmetics. This was a major transformation in both body and spirit. “Have you heard about Carol Irwin?” he asked her. “About her being killed on Wednesday?”

  “Read it in the paper yesterday,” Gino interrupted. “Makes you stop and think about how frail life is. Here her place gets broken into and she’s killed just like that.”

  “Life’s pretty frail, all right,” Streeter responded. “Pretty bizarre, too.” He looked back at Gina. “Did you know that she had your phone number in her address book last week?”

  She frowned severely. “Get on out of here! How did she ever know about me?”

  “My hunch is that she and Kevin were in on the killings together right from the start. Probably from way back at his trial. No offense intended here, Gina, but I think he just dragged you into it because he needed help and a place to stay.” He hesitated. “Plus, good old Kev had that charge rigged short enough to kill you. That’s why I’d like you to tell me all about your time together with him. He doesn’t deserve your respect.”

  “Why are you interested?” Gina pulled back. “I don’t want to get into any more trouble. You know, my lawyer says I shouldn’t talk about the case.”

  “I think that whoever broke into Carol’s was connected with her and Swallow. Gina, whatever you tell me won’t go beyond this room. But if I’m going to find out who killed Carol, I need to know everything about Kevin. I need to know if he was mixed up with anyone else.”

  She looked at her brother, her eyes wide in confusion. Gino reached up and carefully adjusted his rug before speaking. “This man did save your life, Gina,” he told her. “If he says he’ll keep it under his hat, I think you should trust him.”

  Slowly she nodded and turned back to Streeter. “Well, sir, I don’t know that there’s much to tell. Kev never did have any visitors the whole time. It was just him and me. We were so very much in love. He did all the planning and gave the orders.” She then walked him through a jumbled recap of how they’d met and set up the attacks.

  “Everything was going okeydokey right up to Monday morning.” Gina glanced off for a second. “He told me that I’d be safe with all that dynamite, and then look at what happened. I coulda been killed. Jeff, too. Kevin said he loved me and then he turned out to be such a liar.” Her face was pinched in anger when she finished.

  “And you say no one came out to the house or called for him?”

  Gina shook her head no, frowning to focus. Suddenly, her face opened wide in recognition. “Wait a minute, sir. There was something else that happened right near the end. It woulda been late last week. Maybe Thursday or Friday. We got a bunch of hang-up calls. Then, last Saturday, we went out for a ride on his Harley and when we came back someone had broke into my house and trashed it real good. Like they were looking for something. Kevin said it was probably just some Mexicans and not to worry about it. But he didn’t seem none too sure, now that I think about it.”

  “Was anything taken?” Streeter asked.

  “Maybe stuff from my drawers.”

  “Did you tell the police?”

  She shook her head again. “It didn’t seem important, given all the other stuff that happened on Monday. Why?”

  “That means two break-ins in five days. Carol’s apartment was burglarized and both places were trashed.”

  “I see what you’re driving at, sir. Maybe the same person, huh?” Gina’s eyes narrowed.

  “Seems possible. You say the hang-up calls were first and then the break-in? Did Kevin ever mention any names?”

  “No sir. But maybe that’s why he was so agreeable about us leaving town on Monday. All along, he acted like we could just take our sweet time doing what we had to do. Then, suddenly, last Saturday night, he was ready to move out fast. There was one other thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Last Saturday, I saw two men in a car out near our place. One black guy and one white guy. It seemed strange to me that they were out there nosing around.”

  Streeter put one of Frank’s business cards on the table and stood up. “If you think of anything else, give me a call at that number. Okay?”

  When he left, he drove downtown to the Rocky Mountain News building. He had a friend who worked weekends in the paper’s clip morgue. Streeter’d arranged to spend the afternoon reading all the stories on Swallow. It being Saturday, there was only a skeleton crew in the newsroom, so he could read undisturbed. As with the court file, there didn’t seem to be anything of value in the clips. Swallow was arrested three days after the car bombing. The police searched his apartment and car. They found dynamite and tools to make a bomb. But no money. Watts speculated to report
ers that he hadn’t yet been paid for the Mallory contract.

  “If he got anything for the job, he sure ain’t telling us where it is,” Cleveland was quoted as saying. In court, Kevin’s demeanor usually was described as “calm, cold, and defiant,” although he “seemed visibly shaken and agitated” at his sentencing.

  Streeter sat in the library for a long time after he’d finished reading. He jotted a few notes to himself and then he thought about Carol. He tried to imagine what she was feeling when she made the murder plans with Swallow. Or when she was with him romantically. And what the hell passed through her mind when she thought of Streeter? Then he got up to find a phone.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  The assistant city editor sent Streeter to a desk near the north wall of windows. He sat down and dialed Linda Parnell’s number. They had talked on Thursday and he’d sketched out his theory regarding Carol’s burglary. She was silent about it. Then he asked her out for Saturday night. She said yes and even proposed an official date. He’d actually drive to her house to pick her up, and they’d go to dinner.

  “Hey, cowboy. I was hoping it was you.” She now sounded genuinely glad to hear from him.

  Streeter smiled. “Your prayers are answered. Listen, I have to go clean up for our big, for-real date. I’m so excited that I’m going to take a shower, even though it’s not the end of the month.”

  “How flattering.”

  “Really. It’s just before five now. Give me a couple of hours. Say sevenish?”

  “Sevenish.” She paused. “Any luck yet with Carol’s murder?”

  “I’m not sure yet.” He tried to picture what she was wearing right then. “I found a couple of things that might help, but it’s hard to tell. We’ll talk about it tonight.”

  Pulling up to her curb at seven-twenty, Streeter felt a shiver of nervousness. He didn’t want to be too prompt and seem eager, so he drove around for fifteen minutes, killing time. Since the week’s excitement had died down, he’d been thinking about Linda more and more. Caring at all about a woman always made him anxious. She lived in a modest brick bungalow a mile or so south of Washington Park. Although it was early October, it was still warm out, and she was waiting on her wooden front-porch swing. As he parked, she got up and moved casually down the sidewalk toward him.