“No. What happened?”
“They found Vito Coratelli’s body in his room. He died of an apparent heroin overdose. The Montgomery County coroner’s office is doing the autopsy. We should find out the results later today.”
“Susan, how the hell could this have happened? I mean, only you me and Ferguson knew where we stashed him. It was a secure facility with a spotless record. He was thoroughly searched before he was admitted and under around-the-clock surveillance.”
“I know. It just doesn’t add up. There must have been a leak at the facility. I’ll see you in the office at ten. Maybe Charlie will have something for us by then.”
Regan could not believe that Coratelli overdosed. Based on what he knew, Coratelli did not mainline heroin. His arms showed no visible track marks of a heavy user. Regan realized that Coratelli could have injected the drugs in other parts of his body, like between his toes, to hide the track marks, but Coratelli struck him as too lazy to go to the trouble.
Without Coratelli the court house corruption investigation was dead in the water. The preliminary interview they had videotaped would be admissible, but Regan knew that wasn’t enough. Regan believed that Coratelli’s death was no accident, and sure as hell he hadn’t committed suicide. Coratelli was too interested in securing a deal for immunity to just throw in the cards. Coratelli had been murdered, and whoever had killed him was involved in the court house scam. Regan also believed that whoever had killed Coratelli was also involved in the Larson murder.
Regan’s meeting with his boss and Ferguson further confirmed his suspicions.
“According to the preliminary toxicology report, the heroin in Coratelli’s body and the residue in the spoon was pure, uncut heroin,” Ferguson told them. “No one has reported seeing anything like it in this area. One of the toxicologists said it reminded him of something he ran into when he was on active duty in Afghanistan. Even the markings on the baggie looked like what he saw when he was stationed in Kabul.”
“How the hell did Coratelli get his hands on pure, uncut heroin from Afghanistan? That just makes no sense at all.” Regan said.
“Charley, we need to find out who knew that Vito Coratelli was the patient at the Sunrise facility. Someone on that end either leaked the information to whoever got him the drugs, or gave him the heroin himself,” Romansky said. “Jack’s right about this. There’s no way Coratelli had access to the drugs while he was in our custody. He had to have gotten it, or someone gave it to him after he was admitted to the facility.”
“Susan, I can’t help thinking that the same players who are involved in the court house deal are involved in the Larson murder. There’s got to be a connection between these two cases,” Regan said.
“Gentlemen, do you both think that Coratelli’s death was not an accidental overdose?”
They nodded.
“Jack, why don’t you and Charley hook up with Izzy Ichowitz? Maybe the three of you can come up with a connection between the Larson murder and Coratelli’s homicide.”
They met at the Fourth District in the conference room Ichowitz had commandeered for the Larson investigation. The pictures of the suspects, some crossed out, were still pinned to the wall. The timeline developed from the investigation was written in red marker on the white board.
“Jack tells me you’re not buying the Montgomery County coroner’s accidental overdose theory,” Ichowitz said to Charley Ferguson.
“That was no accident. The heroin was too pure, and besides, Coratelli was not a heroin addict. Cocaine was his drug of choice,” Ferguson replied.
“So you think he was wacked by the principals involved in the court house scam?” Ichowitz asked.
Regan and Ferguson nodded.
“And Jack, you think the doer also killed Megan Larson?”
“Izz, I’m not sure, but I think there’s a connection. Too many of the players are common to both crimes.”
“OK. So let’s run through the list,” Ichowitz said as he walked over to the wall where the photos of the Larsen suspects were posted.
He pointed to the picture of Dorothy Wiggins and said, “So far we pretty much eliminated Wiggins as the doer in the Larson murder. The Comcast kid saw Larson alive and well after Wiggins had left the Nooris condo. Anyway, as far as your investigation of the court house scam went, the insiders hated her and aced her out. She had no motive to kill Coratelli. Agreed?”
Regan and Ferguson nodded.
“His Honor, Mayor Bruce Peter Gallo. We have his vehicle at the Old Pickle Works the evening of Larson’s murder. We have not yet determined if he was at Nooris’ condo, nor do we have any evidence that directly links Gallo to the victim. Your investigation ties him to the court house scam. He’s one treacherous bastard, but there’s no history of violent crimes. If he was involved in either murder or both, he would not likely have been the doer, but he clearly had a motive to shut Coratelli up.”
Once again Regan and Ferguson nodded their assent.
Ichowitz next pointed at the pictures of the Nooris brothers. “Your investigation ties the Nooris’ to the court house scam. Both had a motive to silence Coratelli. Avi Nooris’ alibi for the Larson murder has a hole big enough for him to have slipped into the condo and beat Larson to death. As far as we know, however, he had no motive to kill her.”
“Charley here’s something that needs to remain in this room, OK?” Ichowitz asked.
Ferguson nodded.
“Ari Nooris, is a former Mossad agent, who was under surveillance by Homeland Security, for reasons still unknown to us. He also had motive to silence Coratelli, but there’s no evidence that he was at the condo the night Larson was murdered, nor is there any motive for him to kill her, at least as far as we know.”
Regan and Ferguson nodded.
Ichowitz removed two photos from a folder on the conference table and pinned one to the wall. “Mickey Saunders, a player in the court house scam with an obvious motive to silence Coratelli, but no link to Larson. Finally, Chief Justice Robert Fogerty, who, according to Vito, had no motive to kill him, since he was not directly involved in the scam, and no motive or opportunity to kill Larson.”
“So gentlemen, what do we have?” Ichowitz asked.
“Too many players in common for there to be no connection,” Regan said.
“Maybe, but not enough to make a case, at least not yet,” Ferguson said.
“What’s our next move then?” Regan asked.
Ichowitz stared at the wall. After a few minutes passed he said, “Why don’t we approach Vito Coratelli Sr. and tell him we believe his son was murdered by someone involved in the court house scam. Maybe he will agree to help us in our investigation.”
“I think we should also go back to the Nooris brothers and find out if either of them was the father of Larson’s baby,” Regan said.
For the next two hours they made their plans.
SEVENTEEN
Liam walked between them and held both his mother and Regan’s hands as they made their way through the crowd in the concourse at Citizens Bank Park. It was both Liam and Katey’s first ballgame, and neither of them had any idea of exactly what to expect. Liam was caught up in the excitement of the crowd. When they walked out of the entrance to the field level box seats, the look of amazement on Liam’s face reminded Regan of his own reaction when his father took him to his first Phillies game at Veterans’ Stadium, where the Phillies played back when Jack was a little boy.
Regan got the family’s field box tickets right behind the Phillies dugout. Katey watched as Jack patiently answered all of Liam’s questions. She could not fail to notice her son’s rapt attention to Jack’s every word and how natural the two of them looked together with Jack’s arm around Liam’s shoulder. Jack’s hand remained on Liam’s shoulder as they stood for the singing of the National Anthem.
In the third inning, Jack nonchalantly caught a screaming foul ball off of Jimmy Rollins’ bat and handed it to Liam. Within seconds they watched the replay
of Jack’s catch and Liam’s look of pure joy on the jumbo screen above center field when Jack handed him the ball, as the crowd cheered. The seventh inning stretch brought the Phillie Phanatic, the baseball team’s mascot, to the top of the Phillies’ dugout. When the Phanatic walked by Katey he did a double take, and in his unique fashion made a funny lewd gesture, and lifted Kate out of her seat onto the roof of the dugout. When Liam reached for his mother, the Phanatic brought him onto the dugout roof as well.
The crowd cheered as the Katey and Liam tried to mimic the Phanatic’s antics. Regan’s phone buzzed in his pocket. His mother was on the line, “Jack, your father and I are watching the game on TV. Are that young woman and the little boy your guests?”
“Yes mother.”
“Who are they?”
“Mother, I can hardly hear you. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
The Phillies beat the Cardinals, 8 to 1, extending their lead over the Braves to four games. Jack carried a sleeping Liam to the car. He gently placed him in the back seat and secured the seat belt around him. Liam slept through it all with a beautiful smile.
Jack opened the front door for Katey. Before she got in the car she turned and kissed Jack. She squeezed his hand and said, “Thank you.”
Kate placed her hand on Jack’s shoulder as he drove them back to the Grape. He carried Liam up to the third floor apartment. She noticed once again how natural the two of them looked together with Liam’s head resting on Jack’s shoulder. “Wait for me,” she whispered, as she took the sleeping child from his arms.
As she walked back to the living room she felt a warmth flow over her that she had not experienced since the birth of her son. He took her in his arms and they kissed.
“Kate, are you sure about this?” he asked.
She looked at him and said, “I don’t want to think about Liam’s father or your Susan, or anything,” and led him into her bedroom.
That morning Kate watched Jack as he slept. She knew that what had happened had implications that had to be confronted. Was she still in love with Liam’s father, Michael Flynn? Was she falling in love with this man? How could Regan have so quickly and seamlessly become so integral in both her and Liam’s lives?
He smiled at her and asked, “A penny for your thoughts?”
“Oh Jack,” she said.
He pulled her down to him and kissed her.
After they made love he asked, “Should I leave before Liam wakes up?”
“Too late for that, I heard Liam whistling ‘Take Me Out To The Ball Game.’”
“I’ll go out and tell him you’re here,” she said and kissed him and got out of the bed and put on her robe.
When Jack walked out of the bedroom Liam ran to him and gave him a hug.
Jack hugged the little boy and looked over to Kate who smiled back at him.
“Hey Bub,” he said. “Did you like the game?”
“Jack, can ya teach me how to play?”
“Sure.”
“Will we be goin to another game soon?”
“Absolutely.”
Later that morning when Regan met Ichowitz at the Fourth District, Ichowitz greeted him. “Nice catch Jack!”
“You were watching the game?”
“Uh-huh.”
“So was my mother. She called and asked me about the young woman and the little boy,” Regan said and sighed.
“You really like Ms. O’Malley, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And her son, you could tell from the way he hugged you when you gave him the ball how he feels about you. Boychik, this is a good thing, very good.”
“What do you think my mother will say?”
“Your mother will love both of them. You’ll see. Ida wants you to bring them over to our house soon. You know Ida, she has a nose for things like this. She’s already decided that the three of you were destined to be together, ‘Bashert zein,’ as my people say.”
Regan and Ichowitz had arranged a meeting with Vito Coratelli Sr. at his home at 8th and Mifflin Streets in South Philadelphia. Despite the wealth Coratelli had amassed as one of the premier criminal defense attorneys in Philadelphia, the Coratellis lived in the modest row house in the Bella Vista neighborhood he had inherited from his parents. The house was filled with family and friends who had come to help the parents mourn the untimely passing of their eldest son.
They sat in his study. It was a small room, barely large enough for the desk and three chairs in which they sat. Coratelli looked like an older version of his deceased son. The resemblance aside, Junior could never hold a candle to his father’s brilliance.
“Izzy my friend, I’ve missed our encounters,” Coratelli said and patted the Detective’s knee.
Ichowitz had been the arresting officer and principal witness for the Commonwealth in a number of cases in which Coratelli was defense counsel.
“Vito, I still have the scars from some of our duels. I can’t believe you got so many of those gonifs off,” Ichowitz said with a smile.
“Izz, don’t worry, they paid dearly for their crimes. I don’t work cheap. Besides, sooner or later they all have to answer for what they did.”
“The emess?” Ichowitz asked.
“The emess,” Coratelli nodded.
“Vito, Jack and I believe your son’s death was not an accident. We think he was murdered to stop him from cooperating in an investigation the District Attorney’s office was conducting.”
Coratelli stared at Ichowitz, his face flushed with anger.
Ichowitz and Regan filled him in on what they knew and what they suspected. Coratelli immediately agreed to assist them in their plan to infiltrate the court house conspirators.
“I realize that Junior made mistakes in judgment. Those schifoso, faccia di strozo! To kill my boy, like he was a piece of garbage.”
“Vito, after the funeral we’ll put it together. In the meantime, take care of your family,” Ichowitz said.
As they drove back to Manayunk Regan asked, “Izz, you don’t think Coratelli will take matters into his own hands, do you?”
“I’ve known Vito for thirty years. He is one of the most rational men I have ever encountered. He is always under control, a perfectionist. If there is any way to get us an admission from that crowd, he’ll figure it out.”
They arrived at Ari Nooris’ office at 4 PM. His receptionist, Shona, was manning her station. She recognized Ichowitz when he entered the lobby. “Gentlemen,” she said. “Is Mr. Nooris expecting you?”
“No Miss, Shona is it?” Ichowitz asked; she nodded. “We happened to be in the area and need to speak with him. Is he in?”
She picked up the phone and spoke briefly in Hebrew, replaced the receiver, stood up and said, “Please follow me.”
Ari Nooris was sitting at a sofa in the atrium at the back of his office. The room looked onto a garden and out to the Manayunk Canal. Regan watched as a tall man who walked with a noticeable limp made his way out of the garden. The man turned and Regan caught a glimpse of his face. The man’s bottle green eyes stared back at Regan as if memorizing his face.
“Mr. Nooris, Assistant District Attorney Jack Regan and I have a few questions to ask you concerning the Megan Larson homicide, if that’s alright?” Ichowitz said as they entered the romm.
Nooris nodded and asked “Detective Ichowitz, District Attorney Regan, have there been any developments in your investigation of Megan Larson’s murder?”
They waited until Shona withdrew from the room and Ichowitz said, “Yes. As a matter of fact there have been some. That’s why we’re here.”
Nooris gestured for them to take seats and waited for Ichowitz to continue.
“Mr. Nooris, were you aware that Ms. Larson was pregnant?”
Nooris looked surprised and said, “No, I had no idea.” He paused and said, “Oh. That would mean that her baby was also…How sad.”
“Mr. Nooris, do you have any idea as to who the father of child could have been?” Regan asked.
Nooris stared at Regan and said, “No, no I do not.”
“Mr. Nooris, please understand I need to ask you this question. Could you have been the father?” Regan asked.
Nooris could not fully conceal his anger at the question, after a brief pause he replied, “Mr. Regan, Megan and I were not lovers. We were friends.”
“Would you agree to a DNA test?” Regan asked.
Once again Nooris frowned in reaction to the question, “How would that help you find Megan’s killer?”
“We intend to ask everyone our investigation reveals had a relationship with Ms. Larson to give us a sample of their DNA. This investigation now involves a double homicide, and we need to know the identity of father of the dead child.”
“Do you consider me a suspect?” Nooris asked.
“No we do not,” Ichowitz responded.
Nooris looked at them and considered his answer. “Is this really necessary?”
“We wouldn’t ask you if we didn’t believe that ruling out all of the potential fathers wasn’t important,” Ichowitz said.
“And I suppose you could get, what do you call it, a writ?”
“A subpoena, yes eventually we would obtain one,” Regan answered.
“Nooris sighed, “Alright then.”
“Izz, what do you think?” Regan asked as they walked to his car.
“I believe he had no idea Megan Larson was pregnant. I also think he was telling us the truth about them not being lovers.”
“Did you notice the man who was walking out of the garden behind Nooris’ office?” Regan asked.
“Yes.”
“Have you ever seen him before?”
“No. Why?”
“I don’t know- something about him.”
Ichowitz shrugged and asked, “What do you think about Shona?”
“I think she’s not just Nooris’ receptionist,” Regan replied.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s the way she moves, on the balls of her feet, like she’s ready to attack. I don’t know; like I said, she’s more than just a receptionist.”
Murder and Mayhem in Manayunk Page 11
