by Mike Faricy
“This jewelry? Was it a diamond necklace about this big?” I held my hands up, overlapping my thumb and index fingers. “Kind of looked like an inverted triangle, and the bottom diamond swung back and forth?”
“Yeah, how’d you know that?”
“I know the woman Hackett gave it to. Those diamonds were real. The thing appraised at about twenty-four grand.”
“What?” he shouted, and his voice echoed off the front of the condo building across the street.
“Yeah, twenty-four grand. And you say it’s stolen.”
“Damn right, it is. We took it, Cyril and me. That bastard Hackett, he’s been cheating us all along, right out of the chute.”
“Don’t feel like the Lone Ranger, Hilton. I’m coming to the conclusion that’s how he deals with everyone.”
“Really, it’s worth twenty-four grand?”
“Yeah, really. He gave it to this woman and I know it was appraised by a reputable source.”
Hilton stood alongside his Mercury Mountaineer with the four recently patched tires and just shook his head. “There’s some kind of bad karma when it comes to that Hackett dude. With any luck, I’ll be in Chicago by early afternoon and I’ll never, ever have to see him again.”
“Have a safe trip.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
I was eating the remainder of last night’s taco dinner for breakfast. Morton was lying in a patch of sunlight on the kitchen floor, busily working over the last of his rawhide chew toy, when there was a knock on the front door. I envisioned Hilton Brady needing a place to stay after his Mercury Mountaineer broke down about a mile away. Wrong again. Two guys wearing ties, one of whom, unfortunately, looked vaguely familiar.
“Yes?” I said as I opened the door.
“Devlin Haskell?”
“Yeah.”
“Saint Paul Police. We’d like to ask you some questions.”
“I know you,” I said to the guy in the green checked sport coat. “Richards, is it?”
“Detective Randolph, just like the street,” he said and flashed a quick smile. “This is Sergeant Perez. Can we come in?”
“Yeah, sure. How about some coffee? It’s sort of fresh.”
“No, thanks,” Randolph said.
“I’ll take some,” Perez said and they followed me out to the kitchen.
“That’s Morton,” I nodded at Morton who gave just a cursory glance at the two cops before he returned to his chew toy. I attempted to make small talk while running through any number of reasons they were here. Swindle Lawless, shooting Hilton Brady in the foot, assaulting his pal Cyril, breaking into Heidi’s house, assaulting Austin Hackett, the expired license tab on my car, the list went on. “So how can I help you gentlemen this morning?” I said then pushed a full coffee mug over to Sergeant Perez.
“We received a report that you are in possession of an item that had been reported as stolen.”
“And what would that be?”
Perez reached into his coat pocket and took out a number ten envelope. He opened the envelope and pulled out a bunch of sheets that were stapled together. The top sheet was a blurry image of a bracelet. By the look of the thing I guessed it was supposed to be diamonds. Shit.
“This wouldn’t happen to look familiar, would it?” Perez said then took a sip from his coffee mug and sort of winced. “Oh, man.”
“Yeah, I like it strong.”
“And bad. How ‘bout those images?”
“Never seen it,” I said nodding at the image of the bracelet. There was a description beneath the image. The description started with some sort of ID number with a dash at the end and then 001. I guessed it might represent an insurance policy or something. A sentence or two actually described the piece along with a replacement value at the end of the description. The bracelet was valued at twelve grand. “Nope, sorry, but it doesn’t look familiar.”
“Maybe check the rest,” Perez said, then set his barely touched coffee mug on the counter and pushed it back toward me.
I gave a sigh and turned to the next page, which showed a diamond ring featuring one large stone that looked big enough you’d be able to skate across it. The stone was set in white gold. The description at the bottom of the page gave an appraised value of fourteen grand. “Never seen it.”
Perez gave an encouraging nod and I flipped the page to a pair of diamond earrings. They had a sort of hook for a pierced ear instead of a post and I guessed they would dangle. The stones looked fairly large with an appraised value of forty-five hundred bucks. “Nothing I recall,” I said and then flipped the page and stared at Heidi’s diamond necklace with an appraised value of thirty grand, about six more than the appraisal I’d gotten. I was screwed, and both cops knew it.
“This is why you’re here, isn’t it?” I said and half tossed the images back across the counter to them.
“We received a report that you requested an appraisal of this piece. As you’re probably aware, it was stolen along with these other items.”
“Actually, I didn’t know that. Here’s the deal,” I said then proceeded to tell my tale of woe. I didn’t mention Heidi’s name, nor did I mention Hackett, although I really wanted to.
“And your friend received this as a gift from the individual she’s seeing?”
“Yeah, like I said the guy is such a slime ball and based on what I know about him I was absolutely convinced that necklace was a fake. No one was more surprised than me when it turned out to be real and worth a lot of dough.”
“And you’ve never seen these other items?”
“No, but my guess is they are somewhere in her very immediate future. Especially that ring. I went to have a chat with her, tell her about all the bad shit this guy has been up to, and if nothing else try to warn her.”
“How’d that work out?” Randolph asked, sounding like he already knew the answer.
“It didn’t, she basically threw me out of her office. She has no idea that necklace is stolen. Hell, I didn’t know until just a few hours ago.”
“A few hours ago?”
I went on to fill them in on Hilton Brady. I left out his name, forgot to mention the Mercury Mountaineer or that he was just now theoretically heading back to Chicago. I stayed completely away from the fact that I’d shot him in the foot a couple of nights back and assaulted his pal, Cyril.
“So he’s the guy who broke into the house and stole these items?” Perez asked, then shot Detective Randolph a look that suggested this is so screwed up it has to be true.
“Yeah, at least that’s what he told me.”
“When he stopped by to chat at four in the morning.”
“Yeah, exactly. Look, I know for a fact where this necklace is. I’m telling you the truth when I say I’ve never seen the earrings, the bracelet or that ring. But if this guy operates like he has in the past that ring is going to make its presence known in the very near future. I’m only interested in protecting my friend in all this. If I can help you get the necklace back and possibly the ring along with those other two items, would you be willing to give me a little time? I promise I’ll work with you. I’ll gladly sign something to that effect.”
“How much is a little time?” Randolph asked.
“Maybe a week.”
“We’ll give you forty-eight hours, Haskell, then all bets are off. After that we’ll arrest you and your lady friend, just for starters.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“I’m sorry sir, Ms. Bauer is extremely busy at the moment. In fact, she’s working on a rather complicated IPO and will be for the entire day. She left strict instructions that she was not to be disturbed under any circumstances.”
“IPO?” I was in the process of pleading with Heidi’s receptionist and getting nowhere.
“Initial public offering, the stock market,” she said slowly, sounding like she was explaining it to an idiot, which in a way I guess she was.
“In other words, she’s busy in the event I showed up,” I said.
/> “I’ll let her know you stopped by. I’m afraid that’s the best I can do.”
“Not good enough,” I said and headed around her counter toward the door to Heidi’s office.
“Sir, please stop or I’m going to call security. Sir? Mr. Haskell?”
Heidi’s door suddenly opened and she stood there staring at me. “It’s okay, Kate. I’ll deal with this. Come in, Dev,” she said sounding like this was bound to happen sooner or later.
I wanted to stick my tongue out at Kate the receptionist, but instead I just walked into Heidi’s office and sat down. Fortunately, Heidi took a seat behind her desk then just stared at me for a long moment. Her desktop was cleared of everything except her phone and a photo of she and scumbag Austin Hackett sitting in a big Cabin Cruiser out on a lake somewhere. Her laptop was open, but I could tell it was turned off because the keyboard wasn’t illuminated.
“So, what is it this time, Dev? Our last meeting wasn’t painful enough for both of us, so you came back for a repeat?”
I noticed she was wearing a dangly set of diamond earrings, they seemed to match what I recalled of the image Detective Randolph and Sergeant Perez had shown me earlier this morning. “Believe me, Heidi, I don’t want a repeat of our last meeting. If we can just discuss things, calmly? I’m not going to try and convince you, I know you well enough to realize that won’t work. But, if you’d just let me present some facts to you, facts that I can demonstrate, then you can just make up your own mind.”
“Discuss thing’s calmly, like last time?” her voice had already ratcheted up a notch.
“Yeah, I’m not going to yell, I promise.”
“I’m not yelling, damn it,” she yelled.
“Okay,” I said as calmly as I could.
“I’m not able to talk to you now. I’ve got an appointment in about thirty minutes and I can’t change it.”
“An appointment?”
“Dev, honest, I do. Look, I’ll meet you, but I just can’t talk about all this right now.”
“Can we discuss this once you’ve finished working?”
“Yes, yes of course.” She seemed to be calming down.
“Okay, tell you what, you choose when and where we meet, and I’ll be there, fair?”
“I want it to be someplace public, where we’ll both feel comfortable.”
“I think that makes a lot of sense,” I said, although my initial hope of her bedroom still sounded a lot better.
“Remember Il Corvo? We used to have some really fun dinners there,” she said sounding like she was remembering better days.
“And some great nights afterwards,” I said.
My comment immediately washed the dreamy look from her eyes and she refocused on me. “I can meet you there at seven, tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow?” I said, then hoped I’d hid my disappointment, “I’ll be there, I’ll make a reservation, that quiet corner table, off to the side by the front window. I mean, if that’s all right with you.”
“Yes, I’d like that, I’ll see you at seven, tomorrow, Dev,” she said then stood up from her chair. “Now, I really should get back to work.”
“Tomorrow, then,” I said and held out my hand to her.
She ignored the hand, flashed a quick smile then stepped from behind her desk and opened the door. “See you then.”
“Thanks, Heidi.” I said, walked out, and heard the door close behind me.
“How’s she doing?” Kate whispered as I walked past. I couldn’t hide the surprised look on my face. “I’m really sorry about earlier, but she read me the riot act after the other day. She hasn’t been herself for the past month, ever since that creep came into her life. You gotta do something.”
“God knows I’m trying.”
She glanced at something on her computer screen. “Crap, she’s on the phone, probably calling him now. It’s like all of a sudden she can’t take a pee without asking his permission. He calls her at least a half dozen times during the day, sends her flowers a couple of times a week. She’s been filing all sorts of documents for him with his bank, I’m sure for free. It’s just really strange. Not the Heidi any of us know,” Kate said then lowered her voice. “I think her work’s been suffering, too.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know, you just pick things up hearing them in the break room, you know.”
“Hopefully, she’ll listen tomorrow night.”
“Good luck with that. If I can help just let me know.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I phoned Nancy Reilly, Hackett’s gun toting ex-wife. She answered almost immediately. “This is Nancy.”
“Hi Nancy, this is Dev Haskell.”
“I wondered if I’d ever hear from you again. So how’s it going?”
“Not too well,” I said, then brought her more or less up to speed.
“Unfortunately, not all that surprising. He’s worn her down. It’s how he operates and every time she’s with him there’s some sort of positive reward whether it’s flowers or a gift or dinner if she’ll just agree to whatever it is he wants. That necklace he presented at the restaurant with accompanying applause is textbook Austin. Anything I can do to help?”
“This is going to sound really weird, but…”
“Oh, yeah, like the rest of the story doesn’t already.”
“Do you think it might be possible to get a copy of your divorce papers? I mean, I don’t know how else to convince her that he’s been married three different times. Wouldn’t that have given you something to pause and think about when you were going through all this?”
“It would have given me a lot more than a pause. I think I can do better than that. Let me see if I can reach Connie and Marcia. I talked with both of them over the weekend and I think I can get something from them as well. You’re going to need overwhelming evidence. I can email a copy of my decree to you in the next hour or so. What’s your email address?”
I gave her my email address, thanked her profusely and hung up.
“Sounds like she’s going to do it,” Louie said. He was leaning back in his office chair with his feet up on the picnic table. He held a dog biscuit in his hand slowly moving it back and forth while Morton sat at rigid attention alongside of him. Morton’s head moved from side to side, focused on the dog biscuit and mirroring Louie’s movement exactly.
“You know what you should look at?”
“What’s that?”
“His house, that mansion.”
“I told you, I’ve already seen the place, big circular drive, a slate roof…”
“Yeah, I know all that, but I mean the financials. You can check and see if he’s current on his real estate taxes, that’s a no-brainer, it’s all public record. But, if you could get information on his mortgage, I mean if he was in arrears, I know it’s a long shot, but that would go a long way in making your case.”
“Yeah, good idea. Just let me call around to all the financial institutions and ask for the mortgage records of one of their clients.”
“Well, obviously that’s not going to work, but if you could check it out somehow. It might be the thing that gets you over the edge. I mean, basically, you want to come up with enough credible information that it’s simply overwhelming and Heidi will see Hackett for the shit bag he really is. Anyway, start with the property tax information. If that’s screwed up, there’s a better than even chance the mortgage is, too.” He moved the biscuit back and forth again, then flipped it up in the air. Morton grabbed it in mid-flight and had it devoured in about two seconds.
I only heard Morton crunching, I was already focused on my computer screen, pulling up the official Ramsey County property tax records. A moment later I plugged in Hackett’s address.
“God, I don’t believe it,” I said as the property information was displayed. It gave the legal description of the property, starting as far back as 1851 with something referred to as “The Kelly Farm.” “Check this out. The property taxes on that place are thir
ty-three hundred a month, every month.”
“Are they paid?” Louie asked. He was going through the same routine again with Morton and a new biscuit, slowly waving the thing from side to side.
“Doesn’t look like they have been.”
“So, if he’s in arrears on the taxes, that increases the chance that he’s not current on his mortgage. And, might that not suggest why he’s in hot pursuit of your friend Heidi?”
“He’s gonna drain her accounts, and leave her broke like those other women.”
“I’d say it’s becoming a distinct possibility. The guy had someone steal that jewelry. You said there was a ring in those images the cops showed you?”
“Yeah, he’s already given her the necklace and the earrings. That leaves the ring and the bracelet. Nancy Reilly told me she got married about a week after he gave her a ring at the Eiffel tower.”
“He could be getting some of that paperwork lined up as we speak,” Louie said, then tossed the biscuit to Morton.
My phone rang an hour later, “Haskell Investigations.”
“Hi Dev, Nancy Reilly. Say, I just emailed a copy of my divorce decree to you. I spoke with Marcia and she had a suggestion. We would be happy to meet personally with your friend and answer any and all questions she might have.”
“Oh, I don’t know that…”
“Believe me, Dev. We do know. You’ve no idea the hold he can have over her right now. I called Connie, but she didn’t answer, which isn’t all that surprising. Anyway, I left her a message telling her what was involved. Hopefully I’ll hear back. Tell you what. When are you meeting with her, your friend?”
“Tomorrow night, dinner at a place we used to go.”
“Don’t give an answer just now, but at least think about our offer. Not only would it not be a problem, we would enjoy the opportunity for a modest degree of payback.”
