[Lady Justice 16] - Lady Justice and the Organ Traders

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[Lady Justice 16] - Lady Justice and the Organ Traders Page 12

by Robert Thornhill


  I looked at Maggie and tears were welling in her eyes, but she nodded.

  “I’d be honored,” I said.

  “Fantastic!” he said, folding the document and putting it back in his pocket. “Enough of the sad stuff. Christmas will be here before we know it and let’s face it, this may be my last one. How are we going to celebrate?”

  Maggie was still struggling, but pulled herself together. “This may sound morbid,” she said, “but I’ve seen funerals that were called ‘celebrations of life’, but unfortunately the object of that celebration was not there to enjoy it. How about we have a celebration of your life while you’re still here to share it with us?”

  He thought for a moment. “I like it!”

  “Then it’s a done deal! December 23rd. I’ll get the ball rolling.”

  It takes a special person to find the silver linings in the clouds of life.

  Everyone was invited: Ox and Judy, Dad and Bernice, Willie, Mary, Jerry, the Professor and Kevin’s old pal, Bugsy.

  Kevin had called and said that he had met a young lady named Veronica and wanted to know if she could come too.

  There was no doubt in my mind that Veronica was one of the names that Willie had supplied a few nights before. I suspected that her attentions were costing Kevin a pretty penny, buy hey, you can’t take it with you.

  When Kevin arrived with the curvy blonde less than half his age on his arm, that erased any doubts I might have had.

  If Maggie suspected any hanky-panky, she hid it well.

  My lecherous dad, on the other hand, was certainly impressed and doted on the woman until Bernice punched him in the arm, another sign that she may not be as out of it as she lets us believe.

  I had been feeling a bit uneasy about the evening. This celebration of life was actually sort of a pre-funeral for Kevin. I’ve always found it awkward to be around folks that know their days are numbered. For me, there’s a really fine line between celebrating the life and mourning the death of a loved one. I never quite know how to act.

  I needn’t have worried. When Kevin took off his coat, a huge tin badge inscribed with the words, ‘Dead Man Walking’ was proudly pinned to his chest. His sense of humor put us all at ease.

  Since it was so close to Christmas, Dad wanted to have a ‘Secret Santa’ gift exchange, but remembering the thong he bought for Bernice from Victoria’s Secret and the fart machine that Jerry gave me the year before, I nixed that idea.

  Each person brought their favorite dish so that Maggie wouldn’t be in the kitchen cooking all day.

  Maggie had taken the photos of her and Kevin out of her old family album, scanned them on the computer and loaded them on a disk. She slipped the disk in our DVD player and the montage of Kevin’s life, up to the point where he disappeared, rolled across the TV screen as our guests arrived.

  I noticed that Ox and Judy were brushing flakes of snow off their coats. I looked out and our first winter storm was dumping huge flakes on the city.

  There was plenty of good food and I made sure there was an adequate supply of Arbor Mist.

  Kevin enjoyed being the center of attention and all during the meal he regaled us with tales of his life as a private investigator in Phoenix. I thought that Ox and I had some bizarre experiences, but they paled in comparison to Kevin’s exploits.

  After dinner, while the girls were clearing the table, Kevin peeked out the window.

  “Holy cow! It’s really coming down. Must be two or three inches already.”

  I saw his eyes light up. “I want to play in the snow! Let’s go sledding! I may never have another chance like this again.”

  I couldn’t imagine a worse idea. Everyone in the room with the exception of Ox, Judy and Veronica were in their late sixties to mid-eighties. It was cold and slippery out there. Judy would be just fine and Ox had plenty of insulation to cushion a fall and keep out the cold, but I worried about Veronica, not knowing how silicone would react in cold weather.

  “Good idea, Kevin, but unfortunately none of us have had a sled for years.”

  “Don’ need one,” Willie said. “Dere’s an ole inner tube in de basement an’ some cardboard boxes. Dey’ll work just fine.”

  I’d never considered strangling my old friend, but I’ll have to admit that the thought crossed my mind.

  “Sounds like a blast,” Dad said. “I’ll help Willie get the stuff while all of you get your coats.”

  I looked at Maggie hoping for some support, but she just shrugged her shoulders. It was Kevin’s night and if Kevin wanted to go sliding down a slick hill, she wasn’t about to stop him.

  It took three vehicles to get all of us and our make-shift sleds to the park a few blocks away.

  While we were unloading, Dad and Bernice took off to find the best spot for our arctic adventure.

  We caught up with them and found them standing proudly at the crest of a hill that fell off sharply till it reached the field below. At least there were no trees or other obstacles to batter the frail bodies that would be careening down the slope.

  Kevin had positioned the old inner tube and was about to launch his maiden voyage when three young punks with fancy sleds came up behind us.

  “Move on, old timers. This is our hill.”

  “There are plenty of hills in this park,” Dad said. “We were here first. I’m sure you can find another one.”

  “Guess I didn’t make myself clear the first time,” the punk said, grabbing Dad by the collar. “This is our hill. Now get out!”

  “Let go of him!” Bernice said, kicking him in the shin.

  “Ow! You crazy old bitch! I’ll teach you!”

  He let go of Dad and raised his arm to strike, but a beefy paw grabbed his arm.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Ox said. “Care to try picking on someone your own size?”

  “Maybe I would,” he said, jerking his arm free. “Get ‘em guys!”

  Everything happened so fast, it was like watching a Bruce Lee movie.

  The first guy swung at Ox who ducked and landed a punch in the guy’s gut. Judy sprang into action and with one kick to the back of the knees, the second guy was on the ground. I heard a ‘whack’ and saw the third guy fall, having taken a hit from Mary’s bat. I didn’t realize she had it with her, but I should have known. Like American Express, she never leaves home without it.

  By the time the three had come to their senses, Kevin was standing over them with his big .44 Magnum.

  I almost dropped a load when I heard him say in his best Dirty Harry voice, “I know what you’re thinking punk. We’re just a bunch of old codgers and you think you can scare us off this hill. But being this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world and will blow your head clean off, you’ve gotta ask yourself a question. Do you really want this hill? Well, do ya, punk?”

  The guy’s eyes grew wide as he stared down the barrel of the .44. “N-N-N No! You can have it! Just let us go! We’re out of here!”

  Kevin looked at each of us. “Whadda you think?”

  Bernice kicked the guy again. “Get your ass off our hill!”

  “You heard the lady. Now scram before I change my mind.”

  The three scrambled to their feet and took off running, leaving their sleds behind.

  “Now that was a hoot!” Kevin said, holstering his gun. “And look, they even left us some new toys.”

  For the next hour, the hardiest among us plunged headlong into the field below. I had to admit that the going down part was exhilarating, but the coming back up part was just plain exhausting.

  Bernice made snow angels and the Professor quoted Robert Frost’s Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.

  When we were all finally pooped, we headed back to our apartment and drank huge steaming cups of hot chocolate with marshmallows.

  In a somber moment, Kevin said, “As we were frolicking out there tonight, I thought of the song that Julie Andrews sings in The Sound of Music where she talks about ‘snowflakes that stay on my
nose and eyelashes’ being one of her favorite things.

  “Well, tonight I found one of my most favorite things, the love and support of good friends and family.

  “The last verse of that song says, ‘When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I’m feeling sad, I simply remember my favorite things and then I don’t feel so bad.’

  “In the days to come, I’ll be fighting my own dogs and bees, but when I do, I’ll remember this night and then I won’t feel so bad.

  “Professor, I loved your rendition of Frost’s poem and the last verse struck a chord with me. My inevitable passing is like the ‘woods which are lovely, dark and deep,’ and like that weary traveler, I have promises yet to keep and miles to go before I sleep.

  “Thank you all for a wonderful evening.”

  There wasn’t a dry eye in the room.

  Who would have guessed that my roguish brother-in-law was not only the reincarnation of MacGyver and Dirty Harry, but Robert Frost as well?

  CHAPTER 15

  Christmas Eve!

  It’s one of my favorite times of the year.

  Black Friday, Cyber Monday and all the commercialism is history. It’s time to kick back, relax and enjoy this special holiday with family and friends.

  Maggie and I spent the day baking sugar cookies while listening to a radio station that played nothing but commercial free Christmas songs. I’m a sing-a-long kind of guy, Maggie not so much, so after listening to me trying unsuccessfully to harmonize with Gene Autry on Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer a half-dozen times, she begged for mercy. Actually, I didn’t mind. I was beginning to lose what little voice I had.

  Since we had been together as a couple, Maggie had instituted a Christmas Eve tradition. After supper, we would retire to the living room with our sugar cookies and a concoction made of eggnog and Kahlua called a Black Santa, and watch Jimmy Stewart in It’s a Wonderful Life for the umpteenth time.

  Since this was the first time in over fifty years that Maggie had been with her brother, she insisted that he join us for the evening. Since Kevin and Bugsy were roomies, it wouldn’t have been right to leave the little guy all alone, so as it turned out, it would be the four of us for the evening.

  I was okay with that. It’s not that I don’t like Jimmy Stewart. I was just hoping that our guests might help me see the old flick in a different light.

  Since Maggie got to choose the movie, I got to pick the evening entrée, tuna casserole, my signature dish.

  I was busy boiling water for the pasta when I heard Maggie grumble, “Well rats! We drank too much eggnog while we were baking cookies. There’s not enough left for our Black Santas.”

  She looked at her watch. “I’m going to run to the store. They close early on Christmas Eve. I’ll just have time.”

  “I’ll go,” I said, untying my Elvis Parsley apron.

  “Not a chance! You’re right in the middle of your casserole and I’d never do it to suit you. Nope, you stay here. I’ll get the eggnog.”

  I knew she was right. No matter how many times I’d tried to teach her, she just couldn’t seem to duplicate the delicate flourishes that make my casserole a culinary delight.

  I had just put the finishing touches on my dish and slipped it in the oven when I heard a knock on the door.

  It was Kevin and Bugsy.

  “Merry Christmas!” Kevin said, handing me a bag.

  “What’s this?” I asked, peeking into the bag.

  “Maggie said we’d be having Black Santas, so I brought some eggnog and Kahlua. Where is Maggie?”

  “Oh great! I wish I had known. Maggie just ran to the store to get more eggnog. She should be back any time now.”

  Kevin and Bugsy chatted away while I put the plates and silverware on the table.

  I lost track of time listening to their patter. I heard the buzzer on the oven timer and looked at my watch. Maggie had been gone forty-five minutes. I was starting to get worried.

  “Maggie should have been back by now,” I said, pulling the casserole from the oven.

  “Maybe the store had already closed and she had to drive farther,” Kevin ventured.

  “She knew you guys were coming. If she was going to be late she would have called. I’m going to give her a call,” I said, picking up my cell phone.

  I punched #1 on my speed dial and saw Maggie’s smiling face on the screen as the phone rang.

  I was about to hang up when a male voice came on the line. “Yeah, who’s this?”

  It took me by surprise. “This is Walt Williams. Who’s this! I was calling my wife!”

  “Ahhh, you must be the old cop. Your little sweetie is right here with me.”

  “Let me talk to her.”

  “Not so fast, Pal. We’ve got some business to discuss first. I know you’re with that ugly Irishman. Put him on the line.”

  “He wants to talk to you,” I said, punching the speakerphone and handing the cell to Kevin.

  “Yes,” Kevin said tentatively. “Who is this?”

  “Come on, McBride, you know who this is, Manny Sorveno, and guess what? We’ve got your little sister.”

  “You son-of-a-bitch! If you hurt a hair on her head ---!”

  “Calm down. She’s just fine --- for now. I got nothing against the woman. You know what I want --- you and your stoolie friend, Bugsy. We’ve got an old score to settle. My old man rotted away in prison because of you two and it’s time to settle up. I’m willing to make a trade, your two sorry asses for this sweet little Irish girl.”

  Kevin was calm but Bugsy’s eyes grew so big I thought they’d pop right out of his head.

  “You can just kiss my sorry ass, Sorveno. I’m not making any deals until I talk to my sister.”

  “Have it your way,” he replied.

  I heard some rustling, then Maggie’s voice came over the phone. “Walt! Kevin! I’m --- !”

  “That’s enough, little lady. Okay, now you’ve heard her. If you want to see her in one piece again, here’s the deal. You and Bugsy will come to the Blue Oyster Bar and Grill on St. John. Go to the parking lot in back. I’ll have a car waiting for you there.”

  “You’ll have Maggie there and let her go?”

  “Hell, no! I’m not stupid. I can see your old friend there, calling his cop buddies after we hang up. No, you’re going to ride around a while with my friends just to make sure you’re not being tailed. If we see any cops --- well --- it won’t go well for your sister. Understand? Oh, by the way, don’t bother trying to trace the little lady’s cell phone. As soon as we’re done here, it’s going bye-bye.”

  “So when will she be released?”

  “When I’m sure that the two of you are alone and we’ve taken care of our business, I’ll give the old cop a call and tell him where he can pick her up.”

  “How do I know you’ll actually let her go?”

  “Guess you don’t,” he replied with a chuckle, “but one thing is for damn sure. If you don’t show up no one will ever see her again. Do we have a deal?”

  Kevin was silent for a moment. “Deal! We’ll be there!”

  The line went dead.

  “Deal!” Bugsy squealed. “What kind of deal is that? We’re gonna die and you don’t even know if he’ll let her go.”

  “I don’t see we have any choice at this point. Walt, any ideas?”

  I was in shock.

  An hour ago I was mellow and relaxed and looking forward to spending a quiet Christmas Eve with my wife and friends, and suddenly, my world had been turned upside down.

  “Do you think he’ll really let her go?” I asked, already suspecting the answer.

  “Not a chance. Walt, I’m so sorry that I dragged the two of you into this mess.”

  “Me too, but now we have to figure a way out of it.”

  Kevin thought for a minute. “If we just knew where he was holding Maggie, we might be able to put together a plan, but even the boys in your Organized Crime Unit couldn’t find the guy.”

  “I
just might know someone that can give us a lead, but right now the two of you need to get to that bar. If you don’t show up, we’ll have no chance at all of saving Maggie.”

  “So that’s your big plan?” Bugsy groaned. “We’re just going to waltz right up to the guy and hope something good happens?”

  “You got any better ideas?”

  He shook his head.

  He clapped his old friend on the back. “Hey, we’re resourceful guys. We’ll come up with something.”

  “Hang on a minute,” Bugsy said. “I need to take care of something.”

  He headed toward the bathroom.

  When he returned, they got their coats and as Kevin opened the door he put his hand on my shoulder. “We’ll get her back --- somehow. I promise.”

  As soon as the door was closed, I called Willie.

  “What’s up, Mr. Walt?”

  “Can you come up for a few minutes? We need to talk.”

  “I was jus’ headin’ over to Emma’s to spend de evenin’, but I always got time for you.”

  “You might want to call Emma and tell her you’ll be late. We’ve got a real problem.”

  Willie sat quietly as I related the story of Maggie’s abduction and Manny’s phone call.

  “We need to find out where Manny goes when he disappears off the radar and I only know one person that might have the answer.”

  “Louie de Lip,” Willie said.

  I nodded.

  “Can you get hold of him?”

  “I’ll sho try!”

  A few minutes later we were in the car heading to a rendezvous with Louie the Lip.

  Louie was one of Willie’s contemporaries back in his con man days. While Willie went straight, Louie was never willing to give up his life on the shadier side of the law. Louie was a throwback to the old days, and had nothing in common with the gangsters and hoodlums terrorizing the streets of Kansas City.

  Willie had maintained that earlier relationship and Louie had actually become a quasi-confidential informant, helping us get some of the nastier guys off the streets.

  “Manny Sorveno,” Louie said, tugging on his huge lower lip. “Nasty dude.”

  “Any idea where he holes up? Our Organized Crime guys couldn’t find him.”

 

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