Dead Man Code: A Jarvis Mann Detective Novel

by R Weir

  The next morning I awoke, my face still swollen, the bruising around my eye even more noticeable after I’d finished showering. I looked in the mirror thinking a little makeup would hide the damage. But that would be against the hard-boiled detective code. Concealer and foundation were not in my gumshoe tool bag. The black and blue markings would make me look all the tougher. Toughness certainly was going to be important once again.

  After a light breakfast I went to workout, knowing I needed to stay sharp on this case. I had to hone my strength to be able to break free from my assailants. A few of the regulars at the gym noticed the damage and commented—in a less than flattering way.

  “Jarvis, did your girlfriend do that to you after she caught you with another woman?” said one man on the Nautilus machine next to me. It was amazing how word of infidelity had made the rounds.

  “Nice shiner. Did you run into a door?” stated another.

  I laughed off each of the comments, knowing the testicles of one of my assailants would be more colorful than my face. I’d take a bruised face over a damaged groin any day.

  Once I finished my workout, I stopped by the station. Bill was there, and I waited for a free moment with him.

  “Into another mess, I see,” said Bill at his desk.

  “Not my preference. Seems I’m on a hot streak these days.”

  “April is on paid leave right now. Doesn’t look like any real trouble for her, but she can’t work until they are done investigating. I’m sure you’ll be called in.”

  “Hey, she saved my ass. So believe me, I’m grateful and will tell them exactly what happened. I’d be in pieces if she hadn’t come along. She left that one boy with damage in his privates which will take a while to heal.”

  Bill grabbed a folder and tossed it my way.

  “Are these the same men who were following you that you wanted me to track down?”

  I opened up and saw pictures and some basic information. They did appear to be from Russia or thereabouts.

  “It is the same three. What did you find on them?”

  “All three of them are related. Two are brothers and one a cousin. The main man, the one who struck you, is Aleksi Platov. He works within some Russian organized crime group. Couldn’t get the name, and the FBI isn’t sharing. He appears to be pretty nasty, as the Feds list him as dangerous and not to be approached without backup.”

  “I wished I’d known that before I’d disabled his tire.”

  “You have a tendency to act foolishly sometimes.”

  “But my heart is pure.”

  Bill sneered at my words while uttering an obscenity.

  “The one who was holding you was Petya Platov and is Aleksi’s brother. The third one, who April kicked in the gonads, is Jasha Platov. Aleksi appears to be the straw that stirs the drink of the three. The other two are not Mother Teresa either. All are considered armed and extremely dangerous.”

  “Are they new in town?”

  “Uncertain. But it could be they came in just to find a pain-in-the-ass detective sticking his nose in their business.”

  “Just my luck. Any ideas of ties to WANN Systems?”

  “Not from what little we were able to access. Need higher clearance than a Denver cop, to get more.”

  “Fortunately I have a friend in the FBI who’ll happily help me.”

  “I doubt he’ll be happy.”

  I laughed, though it hurt my face.

  “Their lawyer is posting bail now. They’ll be out on the street pretty soon.”

  “Who is representing them?”

  “Bristol & Bristol.”

  “You are kidding. Is it Tony?”

  “No, his brother, Don. It’s really not surprising, with their current clientele. And they are extremely good litigators.”

  “I may have to pay a visit to their offices. See if they are willing to share anything.”

  “I doubt you are on their favorites list right now, after what happened with Melissa.”

  I couldn’t argue the point. But sometimes you had to do unpleasant things in this line of work. The worse that would happen would be I’d get tossed out on my ear. Though unlikely a five-hundred-dollar an hour lawyer could do that, even on my worse day.

  “You may want backup on this case,” said Bill. “A call to Sparks might be in order. These appear to be some nasty men.”

  “I can’t go running to mother every time I need help. But I’ll keep it in mind.”

  “Your funeral.”

  “Can I keep these?”

  “They are your copies. The Denver police have a new budget designation, for covering the costs of assisting you.”

  This time I resisted laughing and only smiled, to avoid the pain. I left and went back to my place, vigilant to make sure no one was following or waiting for me. Vigilance was key. So was making sure I was armed wherever I went. This included in the bathroom, where I showered with my holster within easy reach. Once cleaned up and dressed, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed an Iowa number. It was answered on the second ring.

  “Jarvis Mann,” said FBI agent Bart Wilson, caller ID giving me away. “I hoped to never hear from you again, but apparently I’m not going to win the lottery on that one. What the hell do you want?”

  “I’m so happy to hear your voice too,” I replied. “I’m looking for a local FBI source here in Denver. Figured you could put in a good word so I can talk with them. I need some information on three Russian mob enforcers I’ve encountered recently. Apparently there are some secrets about them the FBI won’t share with the Denver police.”

  “What reason would we have to share with you?”

  “Because you’d put in a good word for me after all the fine work we did together to bring down The Bull.”

  “And why would I pass off a pain in the ass to one of my colleagues?”

  “If you don’t, then I’ll keep pestering you.”

  He may have snorted, I couldn’t tell for certain.

  “I’m sure there is someone in the Denver FBI office you don’t care for, who you’d love to refer me to, just to piss them off.”

  “True.”

  There was a long pause. Either he was thinking or looking up a name.

  “Dezmond Price. He is an agent who works there in Denver. Not one of my favorites. A tough SOB and a real jerk. You’ll get along great. I’ll give him a call and tell him to expect to hear from you. Give it a day before reaching out.” He gave me a number to call.

  Before I could say thanks, Wilson hung up on me. Always nice to have close friends in the Bureau. I would be sure to add him to my Christmas card list.

  Chapter 14

  I was set to meet with one of Aaron’s closest friends for lunch. We were meeting in a large shopping complex where the old Stapleton Airport used to operate. Northfield Stapleton had everything a shopper could want in the way of retailers to max out your credit card, and many places to eat. Aaron’s friend chose Jim ‘N Nicks Bar-B-Q. Hard to turn down, though a little on the heavy side for lunch. But I would make do.

  When I arrived I found a geeky-looking thirtysomething male sitting at a table. Derek Skully was in baggy tan cargo shorts and a T-shirt which said Halestorm on it, which was a hard rock band. Sometimes I was hip to the latest artists. Tucked into his shirt was a napkin with barbeque sauce on it; portions of it were also on the edges of his lips from the ribs he was savoring. His red hair was cropped short and standing straight up, thanks to some type of gel. He had thick-rimmed beige glasses hanging off a flat nose. His skin was pale white, as if he’d never seen the sun. He stood up, his round body never meeting a meal it didn’t finish, and wiped his digits on his napkin before shaking my hand.

  “Sorry I didn’t wait for you,” he said, with a slightly high-pitched voice. “The food smelled so good and I was starving. I hope you don’t mind.”

  I grinned as if to say, no problem. The aroma of the place was enticing.

  “You can’t miss with anything on the menu. You�
�ll be dying for seconds and leftovers.”

  A waitress stopped by and I ordered a Classic Pulled Pork Sandwich and a soda. No need for a heavy meal, as I needed to stay light on my feet in case I encountered my Russian friends again.

  “So you were good friends with Aaron Bailey?” I asked.

  “Yes, we were tight. I knew him in college.”

  “How did you meet?”

  “We had several classes together. We were teamed up on a couple of tech projects and hit it off.”

  My soda arrived and I took a long drink. It was mostly ice, so refills would be needed.

  “So you are a programmer, like he was?”

  “Yes. I can do it all. You name the language and I can write it. Mostly C++, but so many others as well.”

  “Was he as good as you were?”

  “Oh, hell no. He had skills, but he wasn’t in my league.”

  Derek was not lacking in confidence.

  “Were you both computer hackers as well?”

  “Sure, I do some on the side. But Aaron wasn’t that adept. He tried to come off as a white and black hat in the hacker community, but he didn’t have the kind of skill most of us had. He talked a good game, but there were times I wondered what he really knew.”

  “White and black hats?” I asked.

  “Oh sorry, I thought you knew the lingo. There are two types of hackers, the white hats, who do it for the good of everyone. Trying to find vulnerabilities in code and turn them in, to make software more secure. They can get paid for this by software companies. The black hats find the holes, but then exploit it for their own personal gain. Usually to steal and sell information on people. Though illegal, that is where the real money can be made. Of course, there are some who do a little of both?”

  “And that would be you and Aaron?”

  “Aaron, I believe, tried to stay on the good side of the ledger. I go where the money is. I have to pay my bills.”

  “Even though it’s other people’s money you are stealing?”

  “I raid mostly the corporate world. They can afford it. Most just write it off as any other business loss. A few pennies here and there, and these billionaires never miss it. The key is not to get greedy.”

  My sandwich arrived and I took a few bites. Derek ordered some more ribs. Apparently he’d not eaten yet today and was loading up at my expense, or at least my client’s expense.

  “Were you friends with Mandy, too?”

  “Absolutely. She is a wonderful gal.”

  “Did you know her before you knew Aaron?”

  “Knew of her, but didn’t know her. She was a hottie in college. Always surprised she hooked up with Aaron. Seemed like the type to go after the starting quarterback or power forward. Looks, but not necessarily the smartest person around. But hey, it was a win for our side. If he can get a pretty girl like her, there is hope for all of us computer geeks.”

  He could hope all he wanted, but I doubted he’d get the prom queen.

  “Do you still keep in contact with her?”

  “No. I’ve not seen her since the funeral. I told her to call if she needed anything, but she hasn’t.”

  His next plate of ribs arrived and he dug in. I stuck with the one sandwich and the chips provided.

  “Mandy mentioned Aaron may have discovered something about WANN Systems and their network, which may have gotten him killed. Did he ever mention anything to you about this?”

  “He said once to me he was onto something. Maybe a month or so before he was killed. Didn’t give me any details. Only that he’d thought it might be big. A hack for the ages, I believe he stated. But then he never mentioned it again.”

  “Was it related to the WANN System network?”

  “Didn’t say specifically. But I wouldn’t be surprised. I worked there myself until a couple years ago. Their code was quite buggy and easy to exploit. They were always putting out updates to fix things. They were good at hiding their issues. Marketing always squashed the bad press.”

  “Is that why you left?”

  “It was a part of the reason. Mostly I found a better job, with more money, better benefits and without the crazy hours. WANN would work you to death. If you didn’t put in sixty hours a week minimum, you wouldn’t survive. Most there work eighty hours. It was hard on your social life.”

  I smiled, wondering what type of social life Derek had. I imaged him sitting on the computer playing online video games, watching porn and in chatrooms doing who knows what. His idea of an ideal date would never take him too far from his computer.

  “Any more you can tell me about Aaron that might help me catch his killer?” I asked.

  He polished off the second set of bones and wiped his face.

  “Aaron was a good guy. He didn’t deserve to die. But I always wondered if there was more to him that he let on. He seemed to have a deep, dark secret of some kind. There were times I thought he was going to spill and let me know, but he always stopped and changed the subject.”

  “So, you didn’t press him on what it was?”

  “No. If he was going to tell me, he would. I couldn’t care less. We all have our secrets. Hell, I had a few of my own.”

  Yes, we did. Part of my job was to find them out.

  “Hey, do you mind if I order some take-home. I got a girl coming over and we’re going to play some Call of Duty on Xbox. That way we never need to leave the sofa.”

  I laughed as I pulled out my credit card to pay for the food. His secrets weren’t hard to figure out.

  Chapter 15

  I had the name of the guard who was the first to arrive at the scene before calling the police. With his address I decided to pay him a visit. He lived in a small two-story house in Aurora just off of Quincy. The place was badly in need of painting, yard work and cleanup, as children’s toys, including a small bicycle with training wheels, littered the front. When I hit the front steps I pressed the doorbell but didn’t hear anything. I then knocked on the door a few times before someone answered.

  “Is your dad home?” I asked of the male child before me, who couldn’t have been more than four years old.

  “No,” was his only response.

  “Your mom, then?” I put on my friendly smile.

  He turned and left the front door wide open as I heard him yell for his mother. I probably should have explained the danger of doing this, but figured it wouldn’t matter. A woman soon showed up, in tight Daisy Duke shorts, halter top, cigarette in mouth, holding a baby. I probably should have explained the danger of smoking around an infant, but again it probably wouldn’t do any good.

  “Yes,” she said, brushing aside her long brown hair.

  “I’m looking for Dennis Overland. Is he home?”

  She grunted after exhaling a long stream of smoke.

  “Of course not. What do you want him for?”

  I pulled out my ID and showed it to her. She kind of perked up some when seeing who I was.

  “Ryan, come and take your sister,” she yelled to the boy who’d been at the door.

  He came a-running and took her.

  “What do you want me to do with her?” he said.

  “What do you think? Play with her. I need to talk with this man about something.”

  He carried her away, trying his best not to drop her. Again, I wanted to say something…

  “Wow, a real cop,” she said, while stepping outside and closing the door.

  “Private,” I replied.

  “Close enough. Better than what Dennis does. Said he’d be a cop someday, but can’t pass the damn exam.”

  Once outside she seemed to loosen up. She brushed at her hair, put out her cigarette and threw out her chest at me, all the while moving closer. I backed up feeling uncomfortable, as if a groupie was stalking a rock star.

  “I’m sure he is giving his best effort.”

  “I doubt it. If he worked out like you did, I bet he’d pass.”

  She put her hand on my left bicep. I was really get
ting uncomfortable now, but needed to use her fixation with me to my advantage.

  “Can you tell me where he is? It would really be a favor to me.”

  “Why do you want to see him?”

  “It’s about a case I’m working on. Nothing that will get him in trouble.”

  “What do I get if you tell me?”

  She was rubbing her thigh now with her left hand, while her right was trailing down my arm and moving to my chest.

  “I will be extremely grateful.”

  “How about you come inside and have a drink and we can discuss in more detail.”

  “First tell me where he is and then we can see.”

  “Where he always is in the afternoon. At McCarthy’s Bar & Grill. Probably chasing some tail instead of mine. Likes to dress up in his security guard uniform and get some tramp to blow him.”

  “Hard to believe he’d do that with the likes of you waiting at home.”

  She pulled her hand off of me and ran them both up and down her body.

  “Damn right. I’m one hot lady if you play me right. He can’t see it anymore, though. Needs something different. Gets tired of the same old pussy. His loss, though could be your gain. What do you say?”

  “Tempting, but I must go talk with him first. But if all goes well, maybe I’ll come back and have that drink.”

  “You mean it?”

  Of course I didn’t, but I would leave her wanting more. I took her hand and kissed it, turning and walking away. Once on my bike I drove off heading for McCarthy’s, a bar on Smoky Hill Road. When I arrived the place was fairly quiet, the early afternoon crowd not overwhelming the place. It looked clean and well maintained, and at the bar I saw a man in uniform sitting by himself. If he was there to get laid, as his wife said, he didn’t seem to be successful, at least for now. I took a seat next to him, where I could smell the beer fragrance filling the air, the mug before him nearly empty. He gave a glance my way and didn’t seem to care much. I laid my ID on the bar before him so he knew who I was. He picked it up, glancing it over and then tossed it back to me.