Dev Haskell Box Set 8-14 (Dev Haskell - Private Investigator)

by Mike Faricy

  A large bar ran across the length of the back wall with mirrors behind a series of shelves holding what looked like every liquor bottle known to man. Small blue lights ran along the length of each shelf twinkling on and off and reflecting varying shades of blue off the massive array of bottles.

  Six more blindfolded naked lady statues, arms extended over their heads, were arranged along the back of the bar and looked to be holding up a massive ceiling beam. Fake, long stem red roses were clasped in their mouths.

  The room was dark, ostentatious to the point of being garish, and completely unoccupied with the exception of a large round table in the middle of the place draped with a white linen tablecloth. The table was illuminated by an overhead mirrored disco ball that spun round slowly, casting blue reflections out into the darkened recesses of the room, which did nothing to help my dizzy spell.

  Tubby Gustafson sat at the table with a large linen napkin tucked beneath a couple of his chins. With the exception of a few wine dribbles, the napkin matched the table cloth hanging almost to the floor. He wore an off white sport coat with a red carnation stuffed into the button hole of his lapel.

  A large steak platter was in front of Tubby with an even larger steak hanging over the sides of the platter. I guessed the steak to be about twenty-four ounces. Tubby gingerly cut a bite-sized piece with a sterling silver steak knife. He stabbed the piece of steak with his fork then held it up under the light of the disco ball for a closer examination before placing the steak in his mouth. He reached for a crystal wine glass that looked more like a large chalice, made a loud slurping sound and then seemed to shudder in some form of orgasmic pleasure just as I was pushed into the light.

  Tubby swallowed audibly. “What the, Haskell? Do tell. Is that really you?”

  “Hello, Mr. Gustafson.”

  “If you don’t mind my saying, you look like absolute shit. I’m trying to eat here and now you wander in looking like that, might I suggest not exactly helping my appetite.”

  This brought chuckles and nods from the two heavies in dark suits sitting on either side of Tubby. He glanced left and right acknowledging his own great sense of humor and maybe waiting for applause.

  “And back so soon,” he said sloshing the crystal chalice to his lips and taking another giant slurp.

  “Actually, I’ve never been in here before,” I said sort of cautiously moving my head around to indicate the darkened room.

  “Really? I suppose you mean technically not in here. Isn’t that right?”

  “I’ve never been inside and I’ve never been here, ever.”

  “You don’t say. Hmmm-mmm, funny, must be our mistake then. You see, Haskell, early this morning, someone arrived here uninvited. He crashed one of my card games, Haskell. I don’t mind saying he was rude, Haskell, very rude, not at all nice I might add. And if you can believe it, the bastard wore a mask, a Batman mask. I don’t like Batman, Haskell.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you are. You see, somehow this Batman character made his way in here with a gun, a big gun, wouldn’t you say?” Tubby asked then glanced at the jerks sitting on either side of him.

  They nodded in agreement with Tubby, then turned and focused their attention on me with a cold, hard stare.

  “Then, this Batman person waved this big gun around and pointed it at me. Can you believe that? My restaurant, my card game, with my friends, that son of a bitch isn’t invited and he points that big God damn gun right at me. As if that’s not bad enough, he keeps it pointed at me until all the cash gets collected and passed up to my table. He even had a little pink suitcase with flowers on it to stuff the cash in. Then, this Bat-bastard backs out the door threatening to shoot anyone who follows. And, just to prove his point, before he left he shot a bullet through my beveled glass window right out there, shattered the glass in one of the front doors to The Derby as some sort of stupid warning.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a very nice thing to do, but I’m not quite sure I’m following here, Mr. Gustafson.”

  “Hear that, he’s not quite sure he’s following,” Tubby said to no one in particular. “Okay, Haskell, let me try and make it simple for you. Which way do you think Batman ran?”

  “I, I really wouldn’t have any idea, Mr. Gustafson. Really, I wouldn’t know.”

  “I guess that would be reasonable. At least, that would sound reasonable if it weren’t for one tiny little thing. You see, Haskell I like facts, incontrovertible facts,” he said then held out his right hand.

  The jerk to his right reached into his suit coat. For a brief moment I panicked and was afraid he might draw a gun, instead he pulled out a piece of folded notepaper and placed it in Tubby’s hand.

  “You seem to be a smart guy, sort of, so maybe you could help me out here, Haskell. I’d just like to get your input on this, seeing as how you’re such a big time investigator,” Tubby said unfolding the notepaper.

  Both jerks smiled and seem to chuckle to themselves.

  “I wonder if, with that vast array of knowledge you seem to keep hidden from the rest of us, if this might ring any bells in that thick skull of yours? A black Infiniti QX.” Tubby glanced up at me and suddenly looked very pissed off. “A 2005 model with a rear taillight covered in red tape and a cracked windshield. Minnesota license FNL seven-four-nine. You tell me, Haskell, does that vehicle ring any sort of bells up in that one watt brain of yours?”

  Yeah, alarm bells. “Well….”

  “Guess who that vehicle turns out to be registered to?”

  “It’s mine, technically, sir. But, it was stolen last night, part of a kidnapping of two little girls. The guy who did the kidnapping, his name is Carlos, he assaulted me. Hell, you can see what he did to my face. Then, he kidnapped the two little girls I was babysitting.”

  “Really? And you expect me to believe that? Business must be slow, Haskell. Babysitting?”

  “Honest Tubby he….”

  “You disgusting halfwit, you can’t even tell a proper lie,” he shouted. “Who in the hell would be crazy enough to trust you with children? Do you mean to tell me that this Bat-bastard kidnapped two little girls, then stole your car and since he then, no doubt had all sorts of time on his hands, the son-of-a-bitch waltzed into my card game last night, and put a gun to my head? Relieved me of close to a hundred grand and shot the window out of my front door?”

  “Yes, sir, it sort of looks that way.”

  “Fuck.” Tubby screamed and suddenly his crystal wine chalice sailed past my head, close enough that I heard it whistle and felt the breeze. It made a very distinctive, very expensive sounding tinkle when it smashed against the wall somewhere in the dark behind me. A fresh trail of red wine ran off across the white linen table cloth in my direction.

  “I was probably being questioned by the police the whole time this must have been happening. After he stole my car, I had to get a ride home this morning from the police. I wasn’t involved, Mr. Gustafson, I swear on a stack of Bibles, I really wasn’t involved. I could have been unconscious for all I know. They even had the paramedics there to take care of me. If it’s the same guy, this Carlos O’Kelly person, I only met him last night and then only for a few seconds, just long enough for him to assault me and knock me out. I swear I had nothing to do with this robbery and I would never condone putting that gun to your head.”

  I noticed my hands had automatically folded together like I was pleading, which in a way probably wasn’t too far from the truth. If I thought it would help my case I would have gotten down on my knees.

  “What was that name?”

  “O’Kelly, Carlos O’Kelly.”

  Tubby looked at the jerks on either side of him, they looked at one another and then both of them just shook their heads.

  “Freddy?”

  “Never heard of the guy.”

  “I can find out about him for you. I know up until maybe forty-eight hours ago he was in rehab and I guess he just got tired of the stra
ight life and basically walked away,” I said.

  “That’s just what I need, you investigating for me. You’re the whole reason I’m forced to even have this conversation. I’ll find out about him, you just sit there in the dark and shut up, Haskell, so I don’t have to think about you.” Then he turned to the two jerks on either side of him and said, “Get on it.”

  The jerks stood, buttoned their suit coats before taking a moment to give me another glare and then left the table.

  “He’s got curly….”

  “Haskell, damn it,” Tubby shouted. “Didn’t I just tell you to sit in the dark and shut the fuck up? You’re interrupting what’s left of my meal, and I’d like to finish it in peace.”

  A small, bald waiter with a pencil thin mustache and wearing a white coat suddenly stepped out of the darkness behind Tubby and placed a freshly-filled crystal chalice on the table in front of him.

  “There, better, much, much better,” he said. He made a show of carving the next bite of steak, stabbing the piece with his fork and holding it up to the light again for a brief examination before shoving the piece into his mouth.

  Chapter Eight

  It was toward the end of Tubby’s dessert course before the jerks hurried back from wherever they’d run off to. They placed a sheet of paper on the table in front of Tubby and next to what was left of a lemon meringue pie. Tubby was in the process of finishing his third piece.

  “Mmm-hmm, no surprise, I figured as much,” he grunted then shoveled the final forkful of lemon meringue into his mouth and continued reading. When he had finished he looked up and growled into the darkness, “Haskell, just where in the hell are you hiding?”

  “Right here, exactly where you told me to sit and be quiet.”

  “Get into the light where I can see you, damn it.”

  Hands grabbed me from behind and shoved me into the circle of light surrounding Tubby’s table.

  “So, according to this shit….” Tubby nodded at the paper as he cut another giant piece of pie and placed it on his dessert plate. He scooped a massive piece off with his fork, opened wide, shoveled it in, and chewed a few times as if in contemplation. He talked with his mouth full, in the process spitting bits of lemon filling and meringue back out in my direction.

  “It says here, this Carlos jackass was in for his third visit at Pleasant Lake Rehab when he just up and walked away. So much for the third time being a charm. Not to mention another thirty grand down the drain. Says here, the cops are looking for him for an assault, abduction, and kidnapping last night. And now I’m supposed to believe that’s where you met him?”

  “Yeah, I was the assault, you see….”

  “I don’t recall asking you for any sort of explanation, Haskell. I’m just trying to get to the facts. So, this bastard grabs the two little kids who were entrusted to you. Apparently, he throws them in your piece of shit car, and then decides to swing by and ruin my night. Is that about right?”

  “Not exactly, see….”

  “Haskell, for the record, I wasn’t really asking for your opinion so please just shut the hell up.”

  One of the jerks leaned over and whispered something into Tubby’s ear, glaring at me as he did so.

  “Yeah, that’s right now that you mention it, excellent point, excellent,” Tubby said. He took another giant forkful of pie, crammed it into his mouth then gazed up into the disco ball apparently attempting to think.

  “Haskell, let me ask you another question. Now, I don’t want an explanation, I just want a simple yes or no. Did you happen to have a gun in that horseshit car of yours?”

  “Yes.”

  Tubby threw his fork onto his dessert plate, it bounced off the plate, sailed over what was left of the piece of pie and raced toward me across the linen table cloth leaving a lemon meringue skid mark about a foot long.

  “You dumb shit, a, what the hell was it?” he asked the jerk who’d whispered to him a moment ago.

  The jerk mumbled something to Tubby that I couldn’t hear.

  “A Sig Sauer? Was that what you kept in that piece of shit car of yours? A Sig Sauer?”

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact.” Wondering for just a nanosecond how the thug next to Tubby would even know that.

  “Well, surprise, surprise, surprise. Guess what everybody? Amazingly, it all seems to come back to you, Haskell, another one of your grade A, major league screw ups. And this time it’s a really big screw up, as a matter of fact it’s a World Series screw up.”

  “But I didn’t….”

  “For God’s sake will you ever shut up? Jesus wept. So let me get this straight, this O’Kelly douche bag links up with you, uses your car and by the way, borrows your gun to rob me. And, he kidnaps a couple of little girls in the process. That sound about right? Do I have that last part correct? For Christ sake, even I think that is really low. A couple of God damned little kids. Just where in the hell does it end?”

  I started to say something, but Tubby glared and turned beet red for a long moment then he cut me off by slamming both fists down on the table causing the plates and silverware to jump an inch or two.

  “Shut up, shut up, shut up, damn it, will you please just once and for all shut-the-fuck-up, Haskell?”

  I nodded and bit my lower lip.

  “Alright, finally. Now, here’s what’s going to happen, Mister Private Investigator. I want those two little girls returned. I don’t want to hear they’re in your custody. I want them returned to someone responsible, like their mother. Then, you’re going to get my money back from this Carlos friend of yours before I become the laughing stock of this city. This has the potential to be very bad for my business.”

  I started to say something, but Tubby just glared then turned to the jerks on either side of him and said, “This is the result of me being too patient. If he opens his mouth again, unless he’s responding to a direct question from me, knock him out.”

  They both nodded and looked eager for the opportunity.

  “Now, as I was just about to say. You are going to bring this Carlos bastard to me, do you hear? To me. I don’t want to turn on the ten o’clock news and learn that he’s been arrested and is burning up my tax dollars sitting on his fat ass in a comfortable damned jail cell somewhere or relaxing back in another posh rehab center. I want that shitty little piece of pond scum brought to me. You got that?”

  “I hear you, Tub … Mister Gustafson, but, well if you’ll recall I’m currently without a car so it’s going to be pretty difficult for me to find….”

  “Does it ever end?” Tubby screamed then slurped more wine.

  The thugs on either side of him got to their feet.

  “No, no,” Tubby said, indicating they should sit down. “I’ve had about all I can stand, Freddy, get this dunderhead a set of wheels, now. And, Haskell, only because I’m kind hearted and in a forgiving mood, you’ve got forty-eight hours, that’s it, got it? Freddy, get him the hell out of my sight before my generous side gives up in absolute disgust and simply stops working altogether. Jesus Christ.”

  A massive paw landed on my shoulder and pulled me out of the light from the disco ball and back into the darkness. Then, someone’s foot kicked me in the ass and directed me toward the front door. The new beveled glass panel was already resting in the door and one of the workmen was in the process of reinstalling the trim that held the thing in place.

  Once we were out on the sidewalk Freddy pulled me aside. He didn’t seem to look all that happy. “God, you can sure screw things up. Here,” he said and handed me the keys to the Escalade.

  “Oh man, thanks, Freddy. I’m really not sure what to say, you’re giving me your car?”

  “You gotta be kidding me? You can’t possibly be that stupid. What the hell do you think I am? No, I sure as hell am not giving you my car, I just want you to drive,” he said then waited while one of the thugs who served as his shadow opened the passenger door for him. “You two just wait here for me, I’ll be back in a couple of minutes o
nce I get dumb ass here set up.”

  Both thugs glared at me, but didn’t say anything as I hurried around to the driver’s side and climbed behind the wheel.

  Chapter Nine

  “Where are we going?” I asked as I buckled up.

  “Just head down West Seventh toward Otto, it’s a stoplight. I’ll tell you where to turn,” Freddy said then tilted his seat back and looked like he was getting ready to take a nap.

  I headed down the street, passing a number of haunts, McGovern’s, Moe’s, Tommy Reeds, on and on it went. Leaning back in the seat with his eyes closed, Freddy looked like he was fast asleep, but about three blocks before Otto he opened his eyes and said, “Take the next right.”

  I did that.

  “You see that brick apartment building up there on the right? Just pull around in back and park.”

  I pulled into the alley running along the side of apartment building, then into an asphalt parking lot behind the three-story beige brick structure. The lot was so small it was only marked off for four or five parking places although I figured there had to be at least twenty-four units in the building.

  “Let’s go,” Freddy groaned and unbuckled his seat belt before I’d even come to a stop.

  I braked to a stop then got ready to put the car in reverse so I would be able to angle into one of the parking spots.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Don’t be wasting my time with that upstanding citizen shit, just park this damned thing. Tubby owns the building, God help anyone who hassles us.”

  I put the car back in drive then pulled across two of the parking places, stopped and turned the car off.