Soft Case (Book 1 of the John Keegan Mystery Series)

by John Misak

on down there is so screwed up, but I have a good idea. And I have enough evidence to clear my name, but that’s not what is important right now.”

  “What is important?” Geiger asked.

  “What’s important is that you know things might even get a bit worse. Well, a lot worse. I am going to lift the lid on the dumpster of shit someone wheeled in there.”

  “Really.” He sounded cool to me, almost as if I didn’t know him, and he didn’t know me.

  “Really,” I said.

  “And why did you decide to tell me this?”

  “Because I feel I owe it to you, and if you are involved in anything, you might want to prepare yourself.”

  “Are you accusing me of something, Keegan?”

  “Not at all. Let me put it to you this way. I know how department politics and all that go. I understand that honest men are put into compromising situations. If that’s the case with you, you better make sure your ass is clear of the fallout. I’d like to spare you if I can,” I said. I meant that.”

  There was a brief period of silence. I had put it in his lap. He knew I was aware of something, and if he was involved, he knew what to do. I really didn’t care either way.

  “John, you’ve known me for years. You know how I operate. If you have something that will offer an explanation as to what happened to you, I’d like to know about it.”

  “Keep your eyes glued to the news. You’ll find out soon enough. I’m counting on your trust.” Of course I wasn’t, but there was no need to let him know that.

  “Okay,” Geiger said. “I’d tell you to stop, but I know I have no control over you right now. I just hope you know what you are doing.”

  “So do I, Boss, so do I.”

  “Be careful, John. You’re already in enough trouble. I’d hate to see that get any worse. You know how things can go down.”

  “I will. And thank you.”

  I hung up the phone, still having no idea where Geiger fit in to this whole thing. I didn’t give him enough to know what I was doing, but I had given him a warning. If he was in with Agnelli, then he would know what I was talking about, but wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

  I didn’t want to be in his shoes, if that was the case.

  I spent the next couple of hours running things through my mind. Steve Eckert would be waiting for me at Kasey’s, and if things went as I suspected they would, he’d finger Mullins’ killer, either by accident, or on purpose. I thought about the possibility of him lying to me, thus throwing my investigation, if that’s what you want to call it, completely off. I knew things about people, though, and I didn’t expect Steve to do that. Whatever he would tell me would be the truth.

  Jacob met me an hour early, across the street, as planned. He had a slew of gadgets, including the microphone, a recorder, and several other pieces of small audio equipment. He came prepared. He looked nervous, and I felt the way he looked.

  “Let’s get you ready,” he said, after we said our hellos.

  “Let’s.”

  He attached the microphone underneath the collar of my shirt, and when he was done, you couldn’t see a thing.

  “I assume you have a pack of cigarettes on you.”

  “I do.”

  “Okay,” he said, taking one of the small objects. It wasn’t even as big as a book of matches. “You’ll keep this inside your pack of cigarettes. Of course, you don’t want him to see it.”

  “I doubt he smokes.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t let him see the inside of your pack.”

  “What does that thing do?”

  “It’s a long distance transmitter. The microphone only transmits over a distance of fifteen feet. This,” he said, holding the object in his hand, “can transmit over 100 yards. I’ll have a receiver hooked up to the recorder.”

  “Where are you going to be?”

  He pointed to a white van parked a store away from Kasey’s. “In there.”

  “It’ll go through the building?”

  “Without a problem.”

  “Okay, if you say so.”

  He fumbled with the recorder for a second. “We’re going to have to test this out.”

  “That might be a good idea.”

  He handed me the object. It was heavier than I expected. It felt and looked like solid copper. “You see that small white switch on the side?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Flip it up when you are ready. You’ve got a battery life of almost an hour, so try and make your conversation as quick as possible.”

  “Got it.”

  “I can give you another one, but you’ll have to notify me somehow, and then go into the bathroom or something. That could get risky.”

  “Maybe you should give me it anyway. I don’t know how long it will take to get anything out of him.”

  Jacob shrugged. “If you think so.” He handed me another one, which I slipped into the breast pocket of my shirt. “Okay, go outside, flip the switch, and start talking.”

  “Do I have to direct my voice toward my collar?”

  He laughed. “That wouldn’t be too obvious, would it? It’ll pick up on the closest voices it senses.”

  “Kasey’s can get pretty loud.”

  “I’ll handle that. Don’t worry.”

  I walked outside, flipped the switch on the device, and placed it into my pack of cigarettes, which I held in my left hand.

  “You want me to say something specific?” I asked, then looked toward him through the window. He shrugged. I didn’t know if that meant he couldn’t hear me or I could say whatever I wanted. The street outside was fairly noisy, so I figured this would be a good test.

  “You know, I read somewhere that men who listen to a lot of classical music have small balls.”

  I could see Jacob laugh.

  “The study also said that such men are prone to high estrogen levels, making them act like bitches at certain times of the month.” He laughed harder.

  “So you know, I have very large genitals.”

  He started to laugh uncontrollably, and because I didn’t want to attract too much attention, I walked back inside.

  “Nice,” he said, still chuckling.

  “What I said is true.”

  “Of course. Just ask your girlfriend how I am built.”

  Good one, Jacob. I didn’t think he was capable of humor.

  “It worked?”

  “Perfectly. I really didn’t hear much in the way of ambient sounds while you were talking.”

  “What if there’s music playing in the bar?”

  “You should be fine.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Let’s just hope you hear what it is you want.”

  “Amen to that.”

  It was crunch time. Jacob and I had gone through the motions one more time, and we had set up a series of codes, in case I got into trouble, or if the battery died on the transmitter. Now, all I had to do was go across the street and make the whole thing happen.

  I walked across the street to Kasey’s and opened the door. Luckily, there were only three guys at the bar and, from what I could tell, two tables on the left side taken. It was quiet, something else I was thankful for, and the bartender, John again, was staring at the TV screen. When I walked in, he looked at me and nodded. “How are you?” I asked.

  “Could be better. My stocks are taking a beating, as usual.” If that wasn’t a sign of the times, a bartender with a stock portfolio, then I don’t know what is.

  “I have no luck in Vegas or Atlantic City, so I don’t mess with those things.”

  “It’s easy.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  “Meeting someone?” he asked.

  “Yes, I am.” I checked my watch. “Should be here in about ten minutes. You never know how it goes.”

  “Need a drink?”

  “Yeah. Get me a Dewars and Coke.” I made a mental note to watch the drinks. The last thing I needed was to be plastered while I was trying to get information
from Steve.

  John got up, and poured my drink. He brought it over to me. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Everything okay?”

  “Fine. Just been busy.”

  He nodded. He really didn’t care, and that didn’t bother me. He was courteous, poured a nice drink, and brought me back when he was supposed to. What more could I expect from a bartender?

  “I’m gonna take a seat over there,” I said, pointing at the second booth on the left. “If someone asks for me, send them over.”

  “No problem.”

  I walked over to the booth, sat down facing the door, and took a sip of my drink. I took a gulp after that, hoping the small dose of alcohol would calm my nerves, which were jumping. I wasn’t sure what I was afraid of. It really wasn’t Steve, only because I wasn’t banking everything on him. It was the tape. I had doubts about giving it to the guy at NBC, only because I couldn’t be sure what was going to happen if it was aired.

  I finished the drink quickly, but decided against having another. Too late. John was already preparing one for me, and he handed it to a waitress, who had come out of the back to give it to me. She walked over. She was another twenty-something blonde, just like most of the other waitresses there, and she had deep green eyes. Yeah, even at that point, when I was nervous as hell and had a lot to think about, I thought about sex. I wondered, if had Destiny shined upon me at that moment, could I run into the bathroom with her and take care of business in a short enough period of time?

  The answer came quickly. No.

  “Here,” she said, in a very high-pitched voice. “John said you look like you need this, and it’s on him.”

  I’d have preferred it to be on her.

  “Thank you.” I fished into my pocket and handed her a dollar.

  “Thanks,” she said, taking the dollar and smiling at me.

  I told myself to take the next drink slowly, but before I