Catching Water in a Net

by J. L. Abramo

  She hadn’t given me any clue. She seemed genuinely disappointed that I would be spending the night in LA.

  She took me to the airport and told me to hurry back.

  And it was so long, Jake; it’s been good to know you.

  I hadn’t heard anything from Grace or about Grace in nearly three years.

  Not even a mention of her name until Evelyn Harding dropped it at my office four days earlier.

  What puzzled me most was why Jimmy Pigeon had never mentioned her in all that time, not even in passing, no matter how much he thought it would upset me.

  And why I had such a strong feeling that Jimmy was screaming Grace Shipley’s name out to me now.

  Fifteen

  The bedside telephone woke me like a fire alarm. The fire was in my brain. I grabbed the receiver on the second ring, before it turned my head into kindling.

  “Grace?” I said.

  “Suzie, from the front desk. This is your nine A.M. wake-up call Mr. Falco.”

  I placed the receiver down and popped upright in the bed. After a few seconds I remembered that I was in a hotel room and that I had an apartment door that needed repair.

  I dialed Joey Russo’s number.

  “Jake, I heard you dropping off the Chevy last night. You should have stopped in for a drink.”

  “No offense, Joey. I was pretty beat. I need a favor.”

  “Whatever I can do.”

  “Know anyone who can fix a door for me on a Sunday?”

  “Absolutely. When and where?”

  “My place, as soon as possible.”

  “What happened?”

  “Looked like someone used a battering ram in place of a key.”

  “Think they’ll be back?”

  “I’m not sure what to think.”

  “Want me to have someone keep an eye on your place for a while just in case?”

  “That would be good, Joey, thanks.”

  “I’ll have him down there in an hour. His name is Sonny the Chin. He’ll have your door back good as new in no time and then make sure that no one gets within ten feet of it without your permission.”

  “Great, thanks Joey.”

  “Anything else I can do?”

  “Well, maybe.”

  “Don’t be shy.”

  “I need to keep Tina Bella out of sight for a few days.”

  “As in Tina Bella Pazzo?”

  “Yeah. Crazy Al is hunting for her and she’d rather not get bagged.”

  “You shouldn’t be messing with Crazy Al. I, on the other hand, love messing with him. The greasy bastard gives Italian-American businessmen like myself a bad name. I’ll take care of it; just tell me where to have her picked up. Let me know when you want her back, until then it’s better you don’t know where she is.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you Joey.”

  “Don’t worry, Jake. We’ll think of something.”

  I decided that it would be more economical to make the other calls from my apartment so I checked out of the hotel. At the same time I didn’t want to get home before Joey’s man arrived, just in case anyone unfriendly was waiting for me.

  I headed over to Darlene’s place to kill some time. With any luck, Darlene would invite me to stay for breakfast.

  When I pulled up in front of Darlene’s house I realized that I should have phoned her first. It was still fairly early for a Sunday morning. She had asked me not to call too early, let alone show up unannounced. I was almost about to leave when she appeared at the car window running in place in a Reebok sports bra, Adidas shoes and a pair of Nike shorts.

  “Had breakfast yet?” she asked, a little out of breath but not looking bad for someone who had just run five or six miles.

  “I could use a bite.”

  “You can start the bacon while I shower.”

  “I didn’t know you ate bacon,” I said, getting out of the car.

  She trotted up to the front door.

  “I don’t. I keep it around for the boyfriend. Keep his cholesterol level at the NFL minimum requirement.”

  I decided to pass on the bacon, so while Darlene showered I made a few phone calls instead.

  I called Vinnie and told him to expect someone to take Tina off his hands. I told him to make sure that whoever showed up could prove that Joey Russo had sent him.

  I told Vinnie to stay away from my place and the office until he heard from me.

  I phoned Lincoln French at his home in Marin County. Lincoln and his wife Jenny had adopted Sally the day she was born. Lincoln, who was semi-retired, had made his mark as a Stock Broker and Investment Counselor. Lincoln and Jenny were totally devoted to Sally, who had been their only child. Lincoln and Jenny had chosen to hold me responsible for the failure of the marriage.

  Lincoln French and Jimmy Pigeon had met in college, and had remained friends for nearly forty years. If Lincoln decided to help me, or agreed to talk with me at all for that matter, it would only be as a result of his affection for Jimmy.

  After three rings, Jenny French picked up the phone.

  “Hello, Jenny,” I said, wishing her husband had answered, “how are you?”

  “Hold on, I’ll get Lincoln,” was all she said.

  “I can meet you at my office in Sausalito tomorrow morning at ten. I can give you thirty minutes,” said Lincoln French.

  “Thank you, Lincoln. I’ll be there.”

  “I’m doing it for Jimmy. If you feel compelled to thank someone, thank Sally.” And that was it.

  “I don’t smell the bacon,” said Darlene, coming into the kitchen in a white terry cloth robe and a towel wrapped around her head. She looked like Rita Hayworth.

  “Didn’t want to make you envious.”

  “Why don’t you grab that melon off the top of the refrigerator and cut it up while I throw on an outfit. We can have it with some yogurt. If you have time push the little red button and get the coffee going.”

  “I’ll make time,” I said.

  Yogurt and fresh fruit. Yum.

  I started the coffee and picked up the Sunday Examiner.

  “How you coming on that cantaloupe?” asked Darlene, returning to the kitchen.

  I realized that it was still sitting on top of the refrigerator.

  “I kind of lost my appetite.”

  “In case you change your mind,” she said, pouring the coffee, “there’s a cherry cheese Danish ring in the fridge.”

  “More Defensive Lineman food?”

  “Yes. I don’t even like to look at it.”

  Fighting the urge to pounce on the Danish, I filled Darlene in while she worked on her low-fat organic yogurt.

  “Wow, Jimmy had a wife. When did he touch base with her again?” she asked.

  “I have no idea. Spencer wasn’t talking.”

  “What was it like to see Sally?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “I bet you’re looking forward to seeing her father.”

  “I always liked Lincoln French. I’m sure he’s looking less forward to the meeting than I am. I have little left to go on beside the value of Jimmy’s share of the company, so I guess I’ll have to bother him.”

  “I see,” she said.

  I sensed that Darlene was preoccupied.

  “Tell me, Darlene. Why do you think Jimmy never told me he kept in touch with Grace Shipley?”

  “Knowing Jimmy, I’m sure that he was acting with your interests in mind. I hate to say it Jake, but sometimes you need a little protection from yourself.”

  Darlene was never reluctant to say what she hated to say.

  “Have any plans for today?” I asked, just to move past it.

  “I have quite a few plans, and the day isn’t getting any younger.”

  “Remind me to never bother you again on a Sunday morning, Darlene.”

  “C’mon Jake, don’t be so sensitive, I’m just playing with you. You can bother me any time you like.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Besides, re
minding you about anything is a waste of time.”

  “I’d better get going to my apartment. Check to see if Sonny the Chin made it over there yet.”

  “I’m not even going to ask,” she said. “Would you please do me a big favor Jake?”

  “Anything at all, Darlene.”

  “Take the Danish ring with you.”

  When I reached my apartment Sonny the Chin was almost done rebuilding the portion of the doorframe that had been torn off when the door was kicked in.

  “You work fast,” I said, coming up behind him very quietly. He didn’t even flinch.

  “I would have had it done but it took a while to calm him down.”

  Sonny pointed into the kitchen where a scrawny guy with a lopsided mustache was tied to one of the chairs.

  “Where did he come from?” I asked.

  “He was skulking around in the hallway when I showed up, so I kind of invited him in,” Sonny said, “is that a cherry cheese Danish ring?”

  I handed him the box.

  “What’s the blue stuff over his mouth?”

  “Masking tape. Works as well as duct tape but doesn’t hurt as much when you tear it off.”

  “That’s very considerate.”

  “You do what you can within the parameters,” he said, and went back to work on the door.

  I walked into the kitchen and looked at Sonny’s catch. I pulled the tape off his mouth.

  “Who sent you?” I asked, to the point if not original.

  He began to insist that he was an innocent bystander and complaining about the rough treatment Sonny had given him.

  I put the tape back over his mouth.

  “Sonny,” I called.

  “Yes, Mr. Diamond?”

  “Call me Jake. You think this is the guy who creamed the door last night?”

  “I hope so,” Sonny said.

  “He’s not cooperating. Have any ideas?”

  “Well, if you’re not as attached to that chair as he is, we could toss them both out the window and be done with it.”

  The guy in the chair started mumbling.

  I removed the tape again.

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  “You don’t know who sent you?”

  “I get a call. I take an assignment. I get cash wired to me. I do what I’m paid to do and don’t ask questions.”

  “Sonny?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised, Jake, he looks like the type.”

  “How much did you get paid?” I asked, turning back to our guest.

  “Two grand.”

  “To do what?”

  “Break down the door. I wasn’t going to hurt anyone, that’s not part of the deal.”

  “So you did it. What brought you back?” I asked.

  “The television. I wanted it last night but I didn’t have my car.”

  “You should be ashamed of yourself,” I said, “have any cash on you?”

  “Inside jacket pocket, Jake,” Sonny said, “his wallet claims he’s Vic Stritch.”

  Sonny the Chin was a thorough guy.

  I reached for Strich’s wallet and pulled out ten one hundred-dollar bills.

  “Five should cover the door, Vic. The other five I’ll hold in escrow. You come up with a name on your client and you’ll get it back. Now I’m going to untie you and you’re going to disappear.”

  I untied him and followed him to the front door. Sonny and I watched him vanish.

  “Any idea who sent him?” asked Sonny.

  “Al Pazzo?”

  “I don’t think so. Using a fuckup like that guy Stritch is a little lacking in finesse,” said Sonny, “even for Crazy Al. Pazzo is known for the more personal approach. And he uses only Italians.”

  “Well, that leaves me out of guesses,” I said.

  “Maybe you learned something in LA and you just don’t know it yet.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “I’m just thinking out loud,” Sonny said, “maybe someone hoped that dealing with carpentry issues would take your mind off the bigger picture.”

  “Interesting thought,” I said, holding out five bills to him.

  “It’s covered,” he said, “a favor for Mr. Russo. I should have this finished in less than an hour. If you’re worried about intruders, Joey asked me to stick around.”

  “That’s okay. Unless you think that Vic will be back.”

  “Not unless he brings some information that would inspire you to free his escrow account,” Sonny said.

  And then he went back to work on the doorframe.

  I called Vinnie Strings.

  Vinnie told me that Joey Russo had just picked up Tina Bella and taken her to who knows where.

  It was almost noon and I hadn’t eaten a thing, having passed on the yogurt with Darlene. I had handed the cherry cheese ring to Sonny; I wasn’t about to ask for it back. I decided that I had better get some food in me before I got to the point of being totally useless.

  I was flattering myself in thinking that I hadn’t reached that point already.

  I told Sonny the Chin that I was taking off for a while. He handed me two keys that he said would open my new door lock. He said he would leave when he was done, but that I could call Joey Russo if I needed him for anything. I thanked him for his help and headed out.

  I went over my to-do list as I drove over to the Mission. It was going pretty well considering. The door was taken care of thanks to Joey Russo. Also thanks to Joey, Tina was safe for the time being. Hopefully I could get her money and send her off to points far south before Crazy Al’s four-day grace period ran out. And I had set up an appointment with Lincoln French.

  I slid into a booth in Pedro’s Famous Burrito Palace at Fourteenth and Valencia. Whatever made me think I wanted Mexican food had already slipped my mind.

  Pedro’s daughter came over to take my order.

  I went with the Chicken and Jalapeño Grande. Perhaps not the best way to break my fast, so I also ordered a shot of tequila and a Budweiser to alert the digestive system.

  I wanted to talk with Grace Shipley, even if I didn’t know exactly why.

  Grace had left town before Jimmy was killed. I wanted to know if she had seen him while she was there. Evelyn could probably tell me where to find Grace, but I didn’t think she would. I wondered if I could get it out of Harding’s daughter.

  I knocked down the shot of Cuervo Gold and sipped the Bud.

  When the food came it snarled at me from the plate.

  I used my fork to cut into what was a mean-looking chicken burrito. I could swear I heard it growl, “Back off, gringo.”

  Fifteen minutes later I was in the Toyota again. I had left most of the burrito sitting at the booth in Pedro’s. My stomach was doing cartwheels and the Mylanta was in the glove box of the Chevy. I made a quick stop at a drugstore for two bottles, one for home and one for the office, and headed back to my apartment.

  I threw down a long shot on my way up the stairs to my rooms.

  Sonny had done a fine job, complete with a WET PAINT sign stuck on the door with blue masking tape. The new key opened the new lock and it seemed I was secure. Sonny had left what remained of the Danish ring, but even though I was still hungry I resisted the temptation. I thought that it wouldn’t hurt to lie down for a while.

  I hadn’t slept very well; the bed at the hotel had been like an old sponge.

  I pulled off my shoes and threw myself down on my Beauty Rest.

  I went out like a light.

  Sixteen

  I was awakened by a furious pounding that rattled the small table at the side of the bed.

  For a moment I thought it was an earthquake and would have crawled under the bed except for the fact that the box spring and mattress were on the floor. When I finally realized that the thumping was coming from my front door I jumped up off the bed and yelled something like hold your horses. The banging continued, and it was definitely putting Sonny the Chin’s handiwork to the test.
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br />   On my way past the dresser I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and nearly screamed. I seriously considered stopping to do something about my hair, but couldn’t imagine what could be done with it. The racket was getting louder, it sounded as if there actually were a team of horses out there to hold on to, so I let go of my vanity and rushed to the door looking like Albert Einstein’s illegitimate son.

  When I reached the door I opened it as quickly as possible, in a valiant attempt to rescue the fresh paint job. I nearly lost my teeth for the effort.

  My visitor had reared back to give the door another massive blow and his fist was greeted by thin air, thin air located extremely close to my chin. The momentum carried him into the apartment and it was only my reading chair that stopped him from going through the rear window and into the dumpster in the alley below. The collision with the chair upended him and he landed on his back in the kitchen doorway. He looked up at me and suddenly the condition of my hair was of little concern. This guy had a face that looked like it had been run through a meat grinder.

  “Jake Diamond?” he asked from the floor.

  If I had ever wondered what Godzilla would have sounded like if he could speak, my curiosity was satisfied.

  “Who wants to know?” I asked.

  Hey, I just woke up.

  “San Francisco Police,” was the answer.

  It didn’t come from the floor, it came from behind me and it was a woman’s voice.

  “I’m Lieutenant Lopez and he’s Sergeant Johnson,” she said. “So, are you Jake Diamond or what?”

  I turned around and all I could think of was Beauty and the Beast. She had sky blue eyes that made the sky look brown and a figure that made Demi Moore look like a boy. I wondered what time it was.

  “What time is it?” I asked. “Do you have ID?”

  “Nine thirty-seven,” she said, flashing her badge while Johnson struggled to his feet. I couldn’t believe that I had slept for nearly six hours.

  “And the question was?”

  “Are you Jake Diamond?”

  “At your service,” I said with a big smile that often worked but didn’t go over with her at all. It might have been my hair.

  “We have a female corpse downtown with a bullet hole in her forehead and she had this in her handbag,” said Lopez, holding up an envelope which had miraculously appeared in her hand.