by Mike Faricy
“Good enough?” a voice said.
“No, the deal was all or nothing,” came the reply then someone tugged my boxers off. I figured the least I could do was help but beyond that I was incapable.
“God, he’s actually laughing.”
“We’ll see how long that lasts.”
“Dev, Dev, come on honey, time to get out of the car. Come on baby, time for the memorable night we’ve all been waiting for.”
“Oh my God, I think we got him too drunk. He’s still out of it.”
I opened my eyes and attempted to say “I am not”, but I think it just sort of came out as a garbled mumble. Candi grabbed my hand, then pulled and motioned me forward with her free hand. “Come on, baby, come on, this is going to be so much fun, just think of it, sisters.”
Lissa was behind me, pushing me out of the car and grabbing my ass.
I was wearing a stupid smile and black socks.
I have a vague recollection of their taillights fading into the dark night as Candi knelt backwards in the passenger seat and lifted her top to expose herself. “See, this is what you’re missing, you big dumb jerk.”
Then I fell down, or maybe I just passed out.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
When I woke, the first thing I noticed was I had one hell of a headache. I had apparently gotten sick, oh, and I was naked. My clothes were nowhere to be found, I had no idea where I was and it was still dark out.
I was on a lawn, or at least some sort of field where the grass was cut. I walked up a small rise and there was the Mississippi river with the lights of downtown shimmering across from the far side. I recognized the Wabasha Bridge and instinctively knew I wasn’t that far from home, maybe three miles. The distance wasn’t a problem, but the no clothes had the potential to present some difficulty.
There were a couple of stationary garbage cans in the park area behind me. I made my way to one of them, getting sick again along the way. There wasn’t that much left to come up so it was more a case of the dry heaves, but still not fun.
The trash container had a locked door on it, but I could see the garbage can with the plastic trash bag inside holding lots of trash, food wrappers and a number of disposable diapers. I reached in and began to empty the trash bag, one handful at a time. I threw everything out onto the ground then reached back in the bag for the next choice item.
When I had emptied the better part of the trash bag I unhooked it from the outside of the can then gradually worked it out of the can and the locked container. I dumped the remaining contents onto the ground then tore a hole in the bottom of the bag and slipped it on over my head.
It was wet and cold against my skin with some distinctly unpleasant odors wafting up around my chin. The bag hung down below my knees. I began heading in the general direction of my house as the plastic trash bag rustled with each step. Three cars passed me on the Wabasha Bridge, each one sort of slowed down for half a moment, no doubt to get a better look, then sped up and raced across the bridge getting as far away from me, as fast as possible.
By the time I’d made my way to the far side of the bridge, there was a squad car waiting for me. It lights were flashing and two officers were leaning against the trunk of the car. They looked like they were having a casual conversation and my arrival was interrupting. A second squad car was following me, maybe twenty feet behind, moving forward slowly and just keeping pace with me.
“Hi, can we help you?” one of the officers leaning against the trunk asked. I could see his partner trying not to laugh.
“Yeah, I’ve been attacked and robbed. I’d just like to get home.”
That sort of wiped the smiles off their faces.
“Why don’t you get inside the squad car and we can talk?” said the guy who had been trying not to laugh then he opened the rear door for me.
I walked over and slid into the back seat, the plastic trash bag rustled all around me. As I went past him he sort of grimaced at the smell. They both climbed into the front seat, seemed to sniff and immediately lowered their windows. The squad car that had been following behind me waited just a minute or two and then took off.
“Can you tell us what happened?”
“Sort of. I was with some friends tonight, we got separated and a couple of guys jumped me, took my wallet, my clothes and left me in that park across the river there. I had to get this stupid trash bag to cover me, it was the only thing I could find. Hey look, guys. I got some pals on the force, they could vouch for me if you want to check with them. But I don’t feel so great, it’s been kind of a long night and I’d just like to go home.”
“What’s your name.”
“Haskell, Devlin Haskell. I’m a private investigator. I know Lieutenant Aaron LaZelle in homicide, Detective Manning in there as well. I was working with Detective Dondavitch a couple days back on an ATM robbery. I office on Randolph Ave, across from The Spot bar and I live about a block past the Cathedral so it would only take you about three minutes to drive me home and I’d really like to get there. I’d be forever in your debt.”
“Have you been drinking, sir?”
“I think someone might have slipped one of those date rape drugs into my drink.”
They shot a glance at one another then the guy behind the wheel said, “Do you have any identification?”
“Identification? I’m wearing a trash bag for God’s sake. A used trash bag.”
The guy in the passenger seat sort of smiled and looked out the window. The guy behind the wheel said, “Call it in, ask them to send a DMV image.”
They got on the radio and talked to someone. Then asked for my name and address, I guess in case there were two guys with my name. An image of me popped up on their dashboard computer a few minutes later. It was my driver’s license photo and based on the way I looked on their computer I figured I would probably be arrested for war crimes.
As I sat there in the back seat I could feel something either dripping or crawling down my chest. I wasn’t sure which it was and so I just sat there and waited. They crackled back and forth with someone on the radio, most of which I couldn’t understand, but I think someone had called Aaron LaZelle on the phone. It was well before sunrise so I’m sure he was pleased.
“Would you like us to take you to Regions Hospital to get checked out?”
“Thanks, but if you guys could just take me home that would be great.”
“Okay, Selby Avenue you said?”
“Yeah,” I gave him my address and we took off.
We were parked at the curb in front of my place in a matter of minutes. “Thanks again, fellas, I really appreciate it.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Nothing that a hot shower and some sack time won’t cure, maybe ditch this trash bag.”
“Might be a good idea.” Something came across their radio and the guy in the passenger seat jumped out and opened the door for me.
“Stay safe,” I said as he climbed back into the car, they were off with the lights flashing a moment later. I was just remembering that I’d had the locks changed the other day and hadn’t replaced the spare key I had hidden when I saw a pile of clothes on my front porch. It was my jeans, Saints shirt and boxers. For a moment I almost felt like forgiving the Flaherty sisters. Almost.
I pulled the trash bag off over my head, gathered up my clothes, took the keys out of a pocket in my jeans and unlocked the front door. I held my clothes out in front of me so they didn’t come in contact with whatever was dripping and crawling on my skin then I made a beeline for the bathroom upstairs.
My reflection in the mirror looked dreadful and I didn’t want to contemplate what some of the stains and debris clinging to my flesh were. I took a very long, very hot shower and used up the better part of a bottle of shower jell.
It was almost five in the morning and I was ready to climb into bed when I remembered one more thing I had to do.
After the sixth or seventh ring Lissa answered, even though she cleared her
throat a couple of times she still sounded raspy and groggy.
“Hi, Lissa, mistake, very big mistake.” I said and hung up. I placed a call to Candi, but she didn’t answer so I left a message saying the same thing. Then I climbed into bed, pulled the sheets up and drifted into a very sound sleep.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I was up just before noon and phoned Aaron while I sipped my first cup of coffee, I ended up leaving a message apologizing for the predawn police phone call. I phoned Louie next and did the same thing, left a message, this one saying I needed a lift to the office if he was available. I waited for two more cups of coffee then called a cab to take me down to the office. When I got there Louie was sitting at his picnic table reading a file.
“How long have you been here?”
“All morning, I’ve got a one-thirty court appearance,” he said.
“You didn’t get my call? I was hoping I could be able to scam a ride from you this morning.”
“A ride? I thought that was your car out front. I just figured you were over at The Spot for a liquid breakfast. What’s up?”
“You don’t want to know,” I said then proceeded to tell him all the gory details.
“Sounds like the two of them had the whole thing planned right from the get-go.”
“Gee, do you think? If two guys did this to some chick they’d be sentenced to a couple of years.”
“I suppose, on the other hand, it seems pretty obvious what they intended to do. If you tried to press charges they might be able to make the case you were thinking with the wrong head, or just ran off into the dark and they couldn’t find you.”
“If only I’d been able to do that last night.”
“What do you intend to do?”
“Do? Probably nothing. I don’t want to waste much time trying to get even. I phoned both of them once I got out of the shower and shouted something like ‘Big mistake’ into the phone. They’ll hopefully stress out wondering what I have planned and that’s good enough for me. The last thing I need is to get into some sort of a pissing contest with either one of them.”
“Wow, that almost sounds wise, go figure.”
My phone rang just as I was reaching for my binoculars.
“Haskell Investigations.”
“Devlin Haskell, please.”
“Speaking.”
“Mr. Haskell this is Gemma Baker, Royal’s wife. I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“No, no, not at all. What can I do for you?” I said and set the binoculars back down.
“I’m wondering if we might meet. I think I’d like to hire you.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Actually, that’s what I’d like you to find out.”
“Is someone threatening you and Royal?”
“Actually, this is just for me, in fact I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t mention this call to Royal.”
“All right, I could probably stop over this afternoon if that would work?”
“No, I would prefer not to meet here.”
“Do you know Nina’s, it’s a coffee shop up on Selby and Western?”
“I do know it and that would be just fine, would say, three-ish work for you?”
“I’ll see you at three, Gemma, thank you for calling.”
“And not a word to Royal about this, please.”
“I won’t mention it. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
“Thank you,” she said and hung up.
“One of your dates from last night, calling to see if you’re available this evening?” Louie asked. He was in the process of putting his laptop into his computer bag and getting ready to leave.
“No, amazingly, it was actually someone who wants to hire me.”
“Maybe don’t sound so surprised when you’re talking with her,” Louie said and then headed out the door.
I scanned the building across the street with my binoculars. I monitored some college girls waiting for the bus on the corner then drifted my gaze back to the apartment building. Nothing was shaking in either direction. I made my way up to Nina’s a half hour before my appointment. Gemma was already there waiting.
“Gee, and I thought I was early,” I said sitting down.
“May I get you a coffee, Mr. Haskell?”
“No thanks, please call me Dev. What’s this all about? Are you all right?”
“Me? Oh yes, in fact I’ve haven’t felt this positive in quite some time.”
I waited a few moments letting that statement just hang out there, hoping she might come across with some follow up, maybe elaborate. She didn’t.
“So, you mentioned you had something you would like me to investigate and, you don’t want me to mention it to your husband.”
“Exactly,” she smiled and nodded.
“Would you care to let me know what I should be investigating?”
“What? Oh why yes, how very silly of me. I’d like you to investigate Royal of course.”
“Royal?”
“Yes.”
“What do you think he’s done?”
“Not only what he’s done, Dev. What he is continuing to do. His ‘relationship’ if I can use that word, with this Ashley person.”
“She’s a piece of work, alright. I’ve only interacted with her a few times, none of it was very pleasant. I can tell you this, my dealing with Royal and Ashley was strictly on a business level and that is certainly the way Royal seemed to conduct himself the few times I was involved.” I hoped that put her at ease.
She smiled and gave a sort of quick glance around the room. “Dev, do you know anything about me?”
“Anything about you? Well no, not really. I know you’re married to Royal, obviously. I think you met through work and I may have heard that you have a strong religious faith.”
“I majored in chemistry and computer programming at the university. I was one of Royal’s early programmers. I’m very aware of his subtle charm, in fact no one is probably more aware than me. As to a strong religious faith, that’s a line Royal likes to spread around. I think the term he usually uses is ‘religious fanatic.’”
I just nodded and wondered where this was going.
“Obviously, having been there at the beginning I’m entirely aware of what Royal’s business is all about, after all I helped set it up. As to the religious aspect, Royal likes to mention that, thinking it sort of keeps me out of the way. I’m no more religious than the next person. I suppose he told you we have separate bedrooms?”
“No, he didn’t mention anything like that.”
“Interesting, usually he does. We don’t, by the way. We still share the same bed, at least on the nights he’s home.”
“What is it you would like me to investigate?”
“Do we need to sign some sort of contract to swear you to secrecy?”
“No, not unless that would make you feel more comfortable.”
“No, that won’t be necessary, if I’m wrong about you I doubt a piece of paper would matter anyway. I have the sense I can trust you, Dev, I hope I’m not disappointed.”
“You can trust me.”
“I intend to file for a divorce. Before I do that, I’d like documented proof that Royal is having an affair or perhaps even multiple affairs. I’m fairly certain he’s been involved with Ashley for quite sometime, I suspect others as well.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Mmm-mmm, everything and nothing. The phone calls taken into the next room, the late night showers when he comes home or the perfume I smell if he doesn’t shower. I think you’ll find his meetings with Ashley are usually at some hotel and they’re not sharing a table in the dining room.”
“And you said you helped establish his business?”
“I think what I said was I helped set it up. I’m familiar with the nature of his ‘clients’ business affairs and the, shall we say, security services he provides. Let’s face it, Dev, the advent of personal technology and individuals like Royal have brought
the world’s oldest profession to the brink of legitimacy.”
“And you want what, exactly? Receipts, times, dates, room numbers?”
“I want confirmation that will stand up in court. I was wondering if pictures wouldn’t help.”
I nodded then said, “Do you have any sort of idea when these private get-togethers might be happening?”
“You mean like all those incessant board meetings that seem to go on until eleven or twelve o’clock? Please, spare me. Yes, he has me pegged as so naïve that he calls ahead. More than once he’s actually phoned from a hotel. I followed him once with the intent of confronting the two of them, but that Ashley woman had some dreadful character with her and he threatened me.”
“How did he even know who you were?”
“Actually, I approached him. I saw him arrive with Ashley, I guess he’s her pimp or something. That criminal sat drinking in the bar, waiting for her little tryst with Royal to be completed. I simply walked up to him and demanded to know what room she was in, I never actually mentioned Royal.”
“And?”
“And he threatened to kill me if I didn’t leave, then he showed me a gun. I panicked and ran out to my car.”
“Was this guy about my height, dark hair, not too bright, obnoxious attitude?”
“I’d say that sums him up.”
“I know who you mean, his name is Tony. We’ve crossed paths a few times, in fact he’s one of the reasons I’m not working for Royal any more. I’m not sure of the relationship he has with Ashley, husband, brother, maybe boyfriend, but he fancies himself a lot smarter than he actually is.”
“He behaved like an absolute criminal, imagine. I had no doubt he would have murdered me given half a chance.”
“Did he know who you were?”
“Other than a dejected spouse, no. He didn’t seem to put Royal and me together. Royal never mentioned the incident so I have no reason to believe that Tony person even mentioned it to him.”
