by Mike Faricy
“You didn’t change the sheets?”
“She took advantage of me, Natasha, I had no idea, honest.”
“Sounds like payback to me. What about your laptop?”
“Nothing on there, some work stuff, a few invoices, that sort of thing, but nothing relating to Natasha or the Blessington Show other than I looked the thing up online just to learn a little about it. Oh, I did some research on Tommy Allesi and, well now come to think of it, Natasha, too.”
“That’s not incriminating. Anything related to that incident with your visitors?”
“You mean that bunch of thugs? No, I’d taken a couple of pistols off two of those scumbags, but I disposed of them.”
“Disposed of them?”
“In the river, actually. Let me check that list, again,” I said then ran down the list once Louie handed it to me. “I was just thinking those guys drank all my beer and ate the last of a pizza, I don’t see any beer bottles mentioned here.”
“Get them out of here all the same. I don’t mean put them in the trash. Take them to a recycling center, or somewhere, but get them out of here. Otherwise, I think you’re good to go, but you know that damn Manning would like nothing better than to nail you, so let’s not provide him with that opportunity. Did you have that phone with you when they put you in the car trunk?”
“No, I left it here, on the floor right by the front door.”
“That’s one of the things they’ll check. See if they can pick up your signal path. So you didn’t have it with you when you were at Natasha’s, you’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“Okay. Then I don’t see a problem,” Louie said.
Chapter Fifty
The problem was Manning knocked on my door the following morning. By the time I got out of bed and downstairs to answer he was pounding on the door, pounding so hard he was shaking the pane of glass. Morton was barking up a storm. There were two rather large uniformed officers standing directly behind Manning out on the front porch.
“Oh, Haskell, did we wake you?”
“It’s barely after seven. No, you didn’t wake me I’ve been entertaining a pair of twins, upstairs.”
“Well, fortunately for them we’d like you to accompany us downtown. Just a few more questions.”
“You could have called.”
“Not really, you gave us your phone.”
“Actually you took it. This can’t wait?”
“No, it can’t.”
“Let me get dressed, I’ll be down in a bit.”
“I’ll have one of the officers accompany you, Jacobs,” he said then indicated with a nod of his bald head. The larger of the two stepped inside and smiled, Manning and the other officer followed.
“Gee, come on in.”
“The sooner you’re ready, the sooner we can get started and then the sooner we can finish and get on with the rest of our day.”
“Let me get dressed, come on Jacobs I know you want to watch.”
It was a quiet ride down to the station. Jacobs and his partner, a cop named Medina were in the front seat. I was seated in the back, behind the protective screen. There were no door handles in the back. At least they didn’t handcuff me, but I figured that was because it was so early there was really no one around to embarrass me as they placed me in the backseat of the squad car. Manning was driving himself in another vehicle.
“You guys work with him a lot, Manning?”
Medina was driving and looked at me in the rearview mirror. “Maybe you should just check out the scenery.”
I suppose if I had to work with Manning on a regular basis I’d have that kind of lousy attitude, too. Jacobs and Medina brought me up to the homicide unit and deposited me in interview room one. It was the same room I’d had the pleasure of talking to Manning in yesterday. I sat there alone for the better part of an hour before Manning breezed in, I think I had actually dozed off a little.
“Haskell, thank you for your patience, let’s get started,” he said then sipped from a Starbuck’s cup.
“Sounds good to me. The first thing I’d like to do is call my attorney, Louie Laufen and get him down here before we begin.”
“I can do that, if you really want to. On the other hand I just have some general questions that shouldn’t take too much of your time.”
“You pounded on my door a little after seven this morning. You’ve left me sitting in this interview room for over an hour while you apparently went to Starbucks and now you’re in a rush to get things moving? Like I said, I want to call my lawyer.”
“Suit yourself, this is liable to slow things down, but it’s certainly within your rights to do so,” Manning said. He didn’t look too happy.
“Nothing’s happened so far and I’m going on two hours, let me just get him down here. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll have to use your phone.”
Manning looked unhappy, but nodded then brought me out to an empty cubicle. “Just press one-four and you’ll get an outside line.”
I did as instructed, after two rings I was dumped into Louie’s message center, “You have reached Louie Laufen, I’m unable….”
I left a message telling Louie to contact Manning and hung up. I looked at Manning lingering just a few feet away. “Now what?”
“I guess we wait, I’ll be working at my desk.” The unspoken part was I would apparently be cooling my heels in the interview room.
“You got a magazine or a coloring book or something I could read?”
“No.” Manning said and that was that.
Chapter Fifty-One
I thought it was close to four in the afternoon before Manning popped his pink head in the door. “Just heard from your attorney, he’s on his way. You need to use the bathroom or anything?”
“No, thanks for asking. I’ll be right here.”
“Yes, you will,” he said and closed the door.
Louie waltzed in about a half hour later. “Sorry, I was in court first thing this morning, had to get a continuance for next week. My client got food poisoning at the workhouse last night. He couldn’t sit in the courtroom for more than about five minutes.” Louie chuckled at the thought of the City Prosecutor objecting to his client getting sick in the courtroom.
“What the hell time is it, must be going on about five.”
“”No, it’s just a little after eleven,” Louie said glancing at his watch. Then he asked, “What are we up against?”
“I got no idea, Manning was pounding at my door about seven this morning with two pretty big guys in tow. They locked me in this room and I’ve been sitting here ever since.”
Louie sort of made a face, but didn’t say anything.
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
“I think something must be up, I just have no idea what.”
“Join the club,” I said.
With that Manning opened the door. “All right to get started?”
Louie glanced in my direction, I gave him a nod and he said, “Please, the sooner I can return my client to the outside world the better.”
Manning strolled in with a rather thick file and minus the Starbucks cup this time. “Yes, Mr. Haskell, in our conversation with Natasha Kominski yesterday she mentioned an altercation with yourself and five other individuals. I believe this took place at the Hidden Falls Park. I’d like to hear your version of those events.”
“Really not that much to tell, Detective. This bunch of guys showed up, there were actually six of them, it looked like they were going to harm Ms Kominski. Fortunately, I was able to convince them that wasn’t the best idea. Pretty much end of story.”
“And how did you convince them?”
“A rational discussion, I suggested we might all be better served if Miss Kominski and I were allowed to simply leave the area.”
“Did this rational discussion have anything to do with discharging an automatic weapon within the city limits, as a matter of fact, in a public park?”
“I felt at the time
it was the best way to get their attention.”
“What was the result of your rational discussion?”
“Like I said, we left the park.”
“You didn’t damage any of their vehicles in the process?”
“No, I did not.”
“So, you didn’t slit the tires on three vehicles?”
“No, that was a friend of theirs, a gentleman by the name of Denis Malloy.”
“Now why would a friend do that, slit the tires on a pal’s vehicle?”
“Beats me,” I shrugged.
“Did you happen to threaten this individual, Mr. Malloy?”
“Not in so many words. I just suggested he might help out, so they wouldn’t be able to follow us and then we left, Natasha Kominski, her dog, myself and my dog. I figured the sooner we got out of there the better it would be for everyone.”
“Did you threaten Mr. Malloy with a weapon?”
“I don’t recall.”
“I believe Mr. Malloy might seem to think that was the case. Two other individuals who were present at the time suggest he was forced by you, at gunpoint, to slit the tires on three separate vehicles.”
“I’m not quite sure what you’re referring to.”
“I’m referring to your threatening a half-dozen innocent individuals by waving around an automatic weapon. I’m referring to your discharging that weapon. I’m referring to you forcing one of these individuals, Mr. Malloy, a man in the process of recovering from his injuries….”
“Detective,” Louie interrupted. “If I might ask a question here. You’ve named Mr. Denis Malloy, I believe he is most likely out on bail following his arrest after a failed attempt to unlawfully enter Ms Kominski’s home. If memory serves, doesn’t Mr. Malloy have a bit of a history with your department?”
“That has no relevance to this investigation.”
“The other individuals, you’ve not given us their names, but it sounds like they were in that park for the express purpose of, at the very least, intimidating Mr. Haskell’s client. It’s not a huge leap to suggest that in fact intimidation was just the beginning of what they had planned. I might point out that Mr. Haskell and his client, a vulnerable, single woman, alone in an isolated park along the river felt more than a little at risk and threatened.”
“Your client pulled an automatic weapon on these gentlemen.”
“Apparently, with very good reason. Gentlemen? Honestly, Detective, Mr. Haskell was confronted by five, no, make that six known criminals. Within little more than twelve hours two of these individuals were hospitalized and one was dead after being involved in some sort of altercation at Ms Kominski’s residence. With all due respect I think you, and your department, should be thanking Mr. Haskell for preventing nothing less than a murder in that park. I’m sure our news organizations and the local paper would find your particular line of inquiry interesting to say the least.”
“Once again, your client, Mr. Haskell remains a person of interest in an ongoing investigation.”
“And, if you’re doing your job you know that my client had nothing what-so-ever to do with the violent episode these gangsters were involved in. You have his cell phone, I imagine you can trace his movements. Have you stopped to ask the individuals who were hospitalized what, in fact, they were doing on private property? I believe you have reports of shots being fired. Have you investigated that little tidbit? Or, are you once again consumed with attempting to link my client to a horrific event that he had nothing to do with?”
“We have a man who was murdered.”
“Yes, no doubt a known criminal and no stranger to this department, along with two of his partners in crime who have undoubtedly corroborated their stories in an effort to point the finger at the only bright spot in this entire sordid affair, Devlin Haskell.”
“We’re examining all aspects of the incident.”
“Maybe check with Denis Malloy, the very individual who was transported to the hospital a few nights before after being injured during an attempted break-in at the same address. Have you executed a search warrant on his home? Have you interviewed him? Have you confiscated his laptop and cell phone?”
“We’re in the process of locating Mr. Malloy.”
“So, in the meantime it’s no big deal to just hassle my innocent client and make his life more difficult. The same individual who contacted this office in the first place.”
“Save it for a jury,” Manning said and stood up. “Okay, you’re free to go, get out of here, both of you.”
“Always a pleasure,” Louie said and headed out the door.
I followed as fast as I could before Manning changed his mind.
Chapter Fifty-Two
“Tidbit? Sordid affair? Bright spot? You sounded like you’d gone through some sort of religious conversion.” I said.
“God, that guy can be such a sanctimonious jerk.”
“He does have a way of getting under your skin, doesn’t he?”
“Tell me about it,” Louie said.
We were eating a late lunch at Fat Daddy’s Bar-B-Que. Fortunately, Louie, me and Morton were the only ones in the place. Fat Daddy had let us bring Morton in. He was lying at my feet, Morton not Fat Daddy, and gnawing on a giant shoulder bone.
Like always, Fat Daddy was seated behind the cash register, all five hundred pounds of him, just staring out the window and sipping from a plastic glass filled with bourbon and lots of crushed ice.
“You pick up on what he said about Denis Malloy?” I asked.
“You mean that they were looking for him? Yeah, I did.”
“So, what do you think?”
“So? I don’t know, Dev, anything you want to tell me?”
“Tell you? I don’t know a thing, well other than the guy seems to be a perpetual loser. It’s not too big a leap to think he might have just left town, at least until things cool down a bit.”
At this point Louie had dripped Bar-B-Que sauce on the lapel of his wrinkled grey suit coat, his tie and his wrinkled white shirt. He dropped his hand along his side and snapped his fingers to get Morton’s attention then let Morton lick the sauce and grease off his fingers tips before he reached for another rib and took a big bite.
“Umm, here’s the thing. There seems to be enough incentive to keep these idiots circling around your client, Natasha….”
“Former client.”
“Whatever, and I’m guessing they aren’t going to stop until they get what they want. That’s point number one. Point number two is, at this stage they may be seeing you as a major obstacle and worth their effort to eliminate you.”
“Meaning?”
“Watch your back.”
I figured there was no better place to do that than at the Blessington Kennel Club show.
Chapter Fifty-Three
I’d gone to rock concerts that cost less. Close to a hundred bucks for a ticket and not an over-served woman in sight. I stood in the ‘Standing Room Only’ section along the outer rim of the first floor. There’s a wooden rail you can lean against and sit and watch whatever event you were attending, for me that usually meant a hockey game. The Blessington was my first dog show.
I’d had to wade through a group of PETA protesters waving signs about purebreds and dogs dying in shelters. Two weeks ago I would have ignored them, now after having had Morton living with me I at least took one of their handouts and intended to read it later.
Various dogs were being worked through a course of jumps, tunnels, poles and more in the agility competition. They all appeared well trained, but I had no idea about the finer points of judging the event. I did know that Morton would have had a hell of a time. I’d brought my binoculars from the office and scanned the crowd from time to time.
After about an hour of leering at a number of higher class women I spotted Tommy Allesi across the way and down in a front row seat. I couldn’t spot any thugs sitting around him and made my way around the arena so I was positioned in the back of his section. He remained w
atching and apparently making the occasional note for another two-and-a-half hours before he finally left his seat. I moved toward the stairs as he headed up toward the mezzanine.
He was dressed in casual grey slacks and a navy blue sport coat that probably cost more than my car. Today he wore a pink golf shirt, embroidered with the Lady Slipper logo, and he had some sort of VIP ID hanging around his neck.
“Mr. Allesi,” I said and held out my hand at about the same time as he recognized me. A scowl swept across his face.
“Never figured you for the culture type, Haskell,” he said ignoring my extended hand and not breaking stride.
“How’s Princess Anastasia doing?” I said falling in alongside him.
“Thus far, she’s winning, but it’s still very early in the show. I’m sure at some level even someone like you can appreciate the competition at this event. From here on, it’s all up to chance, but then that’s been my business for the past three or four decades,” he said and flashed a quick, but unfriendly smile.
“Your friend Denis Malloy watching?”
“Denis? Hardly a friend. More like a very troubled individual, I should think he’d be more along your lines than mine. As I’ve stated before, my dealings with him are strictly on a business level.”
“You realize he attempted to confront Natasha and the princess with a gang of five other thugs?”
“What?” he said and did a sort of double-take, based on his reaction I think he was genuinely surprised. He stopped in mid-stride and pulled my arm so I had to turn and face him. The crowd heading to various food and beverage counters automatically flowed around us as if we were just two stones in a large stream.
“You don’t know about this? The other evening down along the river, at Hidden Falls?”
He shook his head. I still didn’t know whether to believe him or not. I proceeded to tell him about the five thugs and Denis going after Natasha and the princess. How I’d grabbed the AR-15 out of my trunk. I told him about Denis slitting the tires on the cars, but didn’t mention my encouragement. I had the real sense this was news to him and he was hearing it all for the first time.
