Once again I tried to insert a little reason into the plan.
“Why? Isn’t that just asking for more trouble? If this guy is as important as Richards says he is, he’ll probably have staff and security up the kazoo. You’ll all get caught and thrown in jail for burglary on top of murder.”
Everybody ignored me.
Smitty presented a preliminary plan, in two parts. First we needed to find out whatever we could about Carpenter.
The second part was definitely more risky. It involved breaking into the house and searching for private papers, including the missing package. The gang favored this part of the plan more than the first. Actually they were visibly excited about it, rarin’ to go.
Smitty brought them back in line.
“We do nothing until the house and all the surrounding properties have been thoroughly cased,” he said. “No way we break in to the place without a good plan. We have to find out how many people are normally in the house, and if there’s a time when nobody’s in the house. If the place is almost empty, you know, just a cook or a cleaning lady – Maybe we can create a diversion that’ll get us in.”
He singled out Dave and told him to take a small, quiet bike and check out the address in El Cerrito. Dave was to take his time, act casual, like he belonged there.
“Find out what the house looks like, how close the neighbor’s houses are and particularly, what the golf course looks like. See if you can get on the course and see what the back of his house and the backyard look like. If you can, talk to a neighbor. Get a feel for how many people are there. Try and find out if they’re ever routinely out of the house. Take off, like now!” Dave was up and out the door in a flash.
“Now, you guys, relax. Grab a meal, take a nap, something. We’re not doing anything or going anywhere until Dave gets back. Casey, you’re staying too, like it or not,” Smitty added, just as Red walked into the room.
“Wouldn’t put any money on him likin’ it,” Red said dryly.
I sure a hell wouldn’t like it but with Richard’s confession, I was off the hook for murder. At least in Smitty’s book.
CHAPTER 12
The guys were okay with me. I wasn’t part of the gang but Smitty vouched for me. I guessed that kind of made me acceptable. I followed Red up to the kitchen. Most of the guys were already there making all different kinds of sandwiches and drinking beer. I settled for a diet Pepsi and a peanut butter sandwich.
Smitty came in and made a sandwich too. He told me to finish mine, then go upstairs and find an empty bedroom, “one of the small ones.”
“You’re gonna stay with me until we get this thing wrapped up.”
By that time I knew better than to argue with him so I headed upstairs where I found three small bedrooms that looked like they weren’t being used. Thanks to Smitty I didn’t have any thing to put in there. All I had were the clothes I was wearing.
I turned the bed down and messed the covers up so the room looked like it was occupied and went back down to the kitchen. I wondered if I’d ever see home again.
Smitty’d said it might be a couple of hours before Dave got back, but he wanted all the gang to stick around and be ready if he needed them.
He was right. A little after five in the afternoon, Dave got back.
“Like you suggested, Smitty,” he reported, “I took one of the quiet bikes and a handful of empty envelopes on the way out. Had an idea on how to talk to the neighbors.
First I checked out the numbers on the houses, then put a phony number but the right street on one of the envelopes. After that I started ringing doorbells and telling them I couldn’t find this address. They tried to help me and it was easy to start a conversation.”
Dave looked around at his audience and said, “Pretty sharp, huh?”
Smitty: “Get on with it.”
“Then I went over to the golf course. They wouldn’t let me on. I even offered to pay, but no way could I get on the course, legally. It turned out their security’s as full of holes as Swiss cheese, so I just started walking the back nine and pretty soon I was right behind Carpenter’s house. Nobody challenged me. A couple of the golfers looked at me funny, but nobody stopped me. It was a snap. I even drew a small map of the yard and the back of the house.”
He ripped it out of his notebook with a flourish and handed it over to Smitty.
“So, what’s the deal?”
“Well, first the good news about the house. The neighbors both said it was a strange household. Apparently the owner’s a single guy, maybe in his fifties. Nobody’s ever seen any women over there. Not at all sociable, never talked to any of his neighbors. Lots of speculation about him on the block. None of the neighbors had ever been in the house, but they’d seen bunches of contractors coming and going when he first moved in last year, so they figured he’d made a lot of interior changes. They said they were sure that Mr. Carpenter – they did know his name – had at least three employees at the house, maybe more. One’s a chef, one’s his driver and they didn’t know what the other guy did. They said that his driver was really big. That’s how they both put it – ‘really big.’ And one lady said that he and Mr. Carpenter were always gone on Thursdays. Left early in the morning and were usually gone ‘til late Saturday.”
“The driver and Carpenter are usually gone on Thursdays? So there’d probably only be two people there at most on any Thursday night?” Smitty asked.
“Right. On top of that the backyard looks like a cinch way in. There’s a big lawn with a few shrubs for coverage. It’s an old house with a large, screened-in back porch, up about four or five steps. Inside the porch is a really old door, and four windows, I think. You can get to the back yard over a fancy zigzag fence of stacked logs from the golf course. It’s maybe three feet tall. That’s all there is between the golf course and his yard except for some bushes.”
“Terrific,” said Smitty, “Even better than I was hoping for. Tomorrow’s Thursday. We go in tomorrow night. We don’t have to have any qualms about breaking and entering, the guy’s a murderer. Fact is, based on what we know about him; I don’t think he’d want the police up there any more than we would. It looks like this thing’s gonna take longer than we thought, though, so we all better plan on being here at the house or nearby for several days.”
A little bit hesitantly, I raised my hand.
“Smitty,” I said, “what about me?”
He shot me a look that clearly said “Yeah, what about you?”
“I don’t have any clothes, just what I’ve got on.”
“Well, yeah, you do look a little raunchy. Don’t worry, – I already thought about it. I’m having one of the guys stop by your place and pick some stuff up for you.”
He wouldn’t even let me pick up my own stuff. I gave up. I threw my hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay,” I said. “I’ll get my keys for him”
“Nah,” Smitty said. “He don’t need a key, not for your place. Anyway, he’s already gone.”
CHAPTER 13
Smitty asked the guys to gather around. When he judged that we were all there and paying attention, he began by telling them how much he appreciated their friendship and support, and had over the years.
“You all know I retired from the active leadership of the gang right after my wife died,” he said soberly. “On her deathbed she made me promise to quit doing the violent stuff as a favor to her, so I did. Since then I’ve enjoyed nothing more than having a beer with you guys, and you’ve been my best friends. There’s really no reason why you should still help me when I need it except for old friendship, and I want you to know that I really appreciate it.”
His statement seemed odd to me. He’d been bossing these guys around the same way he did me. The Devils reacted in all sorts of ways, some blowing it off with a laugh, some shuffling their feet in embarrassment over the sentimentality of Smitty’s speech, some just nodding comfortably.
Of course it was all new to me. I knew several of them were married; all I
knew about Smitty was that he lived alone on a boat, but evidently owned this large home way up in the hills. Now I knew he was a widower.
He continued. “Something else important. Over the last few years we’ve made a real effort to change our image, and it’s worked,” Smitty continued, getting into the meat and potatoes of what he wanted to say.
“We’ve worked with police Little League groups, helped them in manhunts, even co-sponsored pancake breakfasts to raise money for police and fire department benefits. I don’t have to tell you, our wives and kids have benefited a lot from this. A lot of them are active in PTAs, Girl and Boy Scout troops, some local churches. I know you guys might not talk about it but the fact is our families are more in the communities than we used to be.”
Murmurs of general agreement.
“So the old days are over. We can still play hard. We may still do some things that the law frowns on. But basically we’re more a part of the community than we used to be. My point’s this-if any of you want to bow out of this operation ’cuz it might in any way harm your family, feel free. If you do, you’ll still be my buddy, still welcome on my boat for a beer. I’m promising no hard feelings, ever. If any of you want out, just don’t come back tomorrow morning and I’ll understand.”
Smitty walked over to the kitchen table and refilled his coffee cup.
There were several minutes of whispering, nods back and forth and shoulder shrugging. Finally one spoke up.
“Screw that, Smitty. No one’s not in on this. No way we’re gonna let you have all the fun.”
“Okay, then,” Smitty said. “Here’re my conditions. First of all, we don’t start no violence.”
There were a few collective groans.
“Don’t mean we don’t defend ourselves, but with Horning looking over our shoulders we can’t make things worse, got it?”
“Second, we do everything my way. No questions, right?”
A few more groans, followed by some laughter and a muttered comment from someone in the back, “So what’s new?” That brought on another wave of laughs.
“All right?” Nods all around. “All right! So I been thinking about getting into this guy Carpenter’s house and I got some ideas.”
Lew,” he said pointing at one of the guys, “you know that place on San Pablo Avenue that sells used clothing, some kind of religious outfit, I think?”
“The Salvation Army?”
“Yeah, that one. Take my car and run down there right now. Buy four fairly good-looking golf bags. Also, buy a couple dozen golf clubs. Make sure some have the big heads on ’em. I want each bag to look like the real thing. Get going right now, and get back this afternoon.”
“Golf clubs? What the hell for?”
“No questions, remember? Get going.”
Lew got up and headed for the door.
“The rest of you, find some dark clothes that would also pass for a golf outfit. What we’re gonna do is sneak onto Carpenter’s property from the golf course. Not all of you will go with me, but I want you should all be ready. Any questions?”
Again, a few moments of quiet, and then a surprise question.
“How about dinner? We’re sick and tired of pizzas. How ’bout we get Josie up here and have a good meal?”
“Done!” Smitty said, “I’ll call her and set it up, and that reminds me, one more thing and it’s a biggie. You gotta cut out all the God damn, freaking, bull-shittin’, swearin’ around, Josie!”
“You should talk!” one of the guys in back called out.
“I know, I know. But for chrissakes try! Okay?”
“For you, Smitty, we’ll do our fuckin’ best!” Much laughter.
I had no idea who Josie was, but I imagined a middle-aged, matronly Mexican cook. Still, it sounded good to me. Suddenly I was hungry, too.
CHAPTER 14
Lew had already gone. Several more took off on personal errands, but said they’d be back for dinner. The rest of the guys settled down on the various chairs and sofas and started working their way through the beer supply as fast as they could. There was a lot of talk about Smitty taking charge, just like in the old days which led to general discussion about those good old days. Some of it sounded pretty blood curdling to me. A couple of times one of the guys started to bring something up and another guy nudged him, nodded in my direction and then changed the subject.
Pretty soon the conversation got around to speculating about Carpenter, and how they could get more information about him. His neighbors had said he appeared to be pretty wealthy. Always new expensive cars around. Had his own chauffeur. Spent lots of money on the house. One of the guys said he wondered if they could find out where his money came from. He said it was too bad we couldn’t get a copy of his tax return.
One of the other things Dave had said was that the neighbors thought there had been a lot more activity around Carpenter’s house lately than normal.
“Probably when he found out his little book was missing,” somebody said.
I asked him what he meant.
“Seems obvious to me,” he said. “He was trying to get something back. Therefore it must have been stolen from him. Maybe an unhappy employee?”
That made sense to me. Smitty had just walked in the room. “I’ve been thinking the same thing,” he said, “which leans me toward the notebook being the key.”
Suddenly someone said, “I think I hear Josie’s car.” Everyone, Smitty accepted, made a beeline up the stairs to the front door.
I lagged behind, not getting their excitement over the upcoming dinner. We hadn’t been eating too badly as it was: lots of hotcakes, bacon, eggs and coffee for breakfast, and anything we wanted for lunch as long as we made it ourselves. Like they’d said, mostly pizza for dinner. Some of the guys had ordered chicken pot pies instead of pizzas, for a little variety. Trouble with the pies was they didn’t deliver.
The guys were all crowded around the front door, then quickly formed into a bucket brigade, handing bag after bag of groceries down the hall and into the kitchen.
Josie carried in the last bag. She definitely was not what I expected. No middle-aged, motherly Mexican cook was she! This cook was beautiful: blonde, green eyes, cute figure— and young! I put her in her in her mid or late twenties at the outside.
I wondered who the hell she was. Obviously she wasn’t just some cook they hired occasionally. They all treated her like family. Someone’s wife? But she looked too young for this gang. Maybe a girlfriend? Maybe somebody’s daughter? I wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery, and soon.
She immediately took charge, calling everybody by their names. Job one: getting the food put away. I was being completely ignored. In fact, she had too much help. She started shooing some of them out. I hung back just outside the kitchen door, where she might not notice me. I didn’t want to get bounced.
A few minutes later, Smitty walked in. “Daddy!” says Josie.
“Daddy?” Well, that narrowed it down a bit. Her dad? Or maybe a sugar daddy?
Smitty settled the matter.
“Hi, daughter dear,” he said, poking in a few of the bags. So what’d you bring us for dinner?”
Mystery solved and was I ever relieved – until I thought about her being SMITTY’s daughter and started thinking about how difficult getting to know her would be. The next question: how was I gonna meet her? I figured we’d meet, probably at dinner, but certainly not now. I couldn’t even get in the kitchen, let alone near her. The thing was I didn’t want to meet her – I wanted tomeether. You know what I mean.
“So how about hamburger steaks, baked potatoes and a green salad?” she answered her pop. She also said she’d appreciate some help.
Wonder of wonders – Smitty volunteeredme. “I’ll let you have our newest, youngest and greenest recruit. I know he knows his way around a galley. Maybe he can help in a kitchen,” he said and shoved me forward.
She asked me if I knew how to make hamburger patties for steaks. I said, “Sure.” She had
me get two huge packages of ground meat out of the ’fridge and told me to start making patties. I’d made a few when she started laughing at me.
“Whaddya think this is, a tea party? These guys want a steak, not a measly little thing like that. Here, let me show you.” She proceeded to make a burger the size of a dinner plate.
Live and learn. Should have known – I’d seen these guys wolf down a half dozen big pancakes, bacon and eggs for breakfast. Using the ones she’d made as my model, I proceeded to make a couple dozen of these monster pieces. Were there gonna be a couple dozen Devils for dinner?
When I was done she had me wash and cut six heads of lettuce into quarters for the salad. She said each guy would eat a whole quarter. She was making a dressing for the salad.
Gosh, I was impressed. She was cute and a good cook. She was also a little bossy, but in a nice way.
At the sink, elbow deep in cold water, I was washing the lettuce, stripping off any brownish leaves, quartering each head and arranging them on fairly big salad plates.
“I have to go downstairs and get the guys to set up a couple of ping pong tables with tablecloths, plates and silverware, I’ll be back before you finish the lettuce.”
When she came back, she set to work frying the steaks on the industrial-sized stove. She’d worked some chopped onion into the patties. The smell had my mouth watering.
Before I knew it, everything was ready. A couple of the guys came up to help her carry it downstairs.
The dinner was a huge success and Josie was right. Nothing left over. Coffee and ice cream for dessert made everyone happy.
Well, I’d met her. I’d even spent the best part of an hour with her. But I’d never had the chance to really talk to her. She just accepted me as the gang’s latest recruit.
CHAPTER 15
After the table was cleaned up, Smitty said he’d need to send some of us on more errands, first thing in the morning.
“The first one may be one of the most important. Any of you guys remember those old highway patrol uniforms we bought last year, in that surplus place? If we still got them, I need them.”
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