The Lovely Chocolate Mob

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The Lovely Chocolate Mob Page 22

by Richard J. Bennett


  Miss Planter opened the door from her office and invited me in. The earlier appointment had just left, so nobody else was around. I gave her the box of chocolates. “What’s this?” she asked.

  “It’s a present.” I said. I was hesitant to name the origin.

  “A box of chocolates? Wow, this seems to be a deluxe edition! Hey, what are you trying to do, make me fat?”

  “You can share them with Phyllis,” I said. “She can pass them out to the clients.”

  “This is almost too good for clients!” Miss Planter laughed. “No offense, Mr. Owen.”

  I laughed, for the first time in what seemed a long time. “No offense taken, Miss Planter.”

  “Phyllis can handle this better than me, I’m sure,” continued Miss Planter.

  “I have to tell you… this is from the bad people. The cartel. They know about you.”

  Miss Planter looked into my eyes. “They know about me? How? You didn’t… tell them about me?”

  “No, I didn’t even mention you; I didn’t tell them about myself, either, but they knew about me.” I updated her on the whole story, what had happened since I left to warn Dr. Franklin Burke, my abduction, the questioning, trying to find Helen, and then coming home to a surprise.

  “And he’s staying at your house?” she asked.

  “Yes, he’s there now. Not so loud, you never know who’s listening.”

  “Did you check your lapel, then?” she said.

  “Already done. Walter’s not listening in, not today, anyhow.”

  “I think you should tell Helen about her husband,” said Miss Planter. “She’s probably worried sick after finding out he’s not dead, but missing. She might think he’s been kidnapped. It’s a sure bet the police are looking for him. They can provide protection.”

  “You don’t know these people. They seem to be everywhere. They look like policemen; they might even be policemen. It’s hard to know who to trust!”

  “You need to meet face-to-face with Helen, or get her away from the police and her family long enough to tell her not to worry about her husband, that he’s safe and not in the wrong hands.”

  “Yes, you’re right. It’s something I should do. I’ve told Dr. Burke not to contact anybody, to just disappear. He has to be on the lam for awhile.”

  “How long is this going to last?” Miss Planter asked.

  “As long as it takes,” I said. “Until the danger is over, at least. Maybe he’ll have to go into some kind of witness protection program.”

  “But that’s only if he testifies, and he hasn’t seen anybody doing anything. You’re the one who’s a candidate for that!”

  “But I’m not the one who’s in danger.” Switching gears, I said, “I have a favor to ask.”

  “Okay.” she said.

  “You and I, we seem to be friends, right? I mean, I trust you, and you trust me?”

  “Yes, I think we’ve become friends of a sort,” she agreed. “What’s the favor?”

  “I’ve made a deal with Dr. Burke that he and his wife would come to you for marriage counseling.”

  “Marriage counseling? With a cheater and a spend-thrift?” she said in an astonished tone.

  “Well, yes. I mean, you can do that, can’t you?”

  “I can do some of it, up to a point. My job is more of a diagnostic, evaluating type. I’m not what you’d call a certified marriage counselor. Besides, my schedule is all filled-up!”

  “You wouldn’t have to rearrange your schedule. How about seeing them, in my slot, and we’d rotate? I could have a day, they could have a day, and we could continue like that.”

  “Your slot? That would work, but it might take twice as long to find out, examine, and evaluate all the issues… what about your issues, your goals, your happiness?”

  “Strangely enough, I seem to be very happy at the moment.” I waited for her to get it, and she did. Her eyes went down and she tried to stop her smile, but there it was. It was good to see her smile. And we had come to an agreement.

  “I’ve still got to talk to Helen about this after I inform her of her husband’s whereabouts. Let me call her now, with you here.”

  “I thought you didn’t trust phones,” said Miss Planter.

  “I’m not using my phone; I’m using yours. Mine may be under surveillance. Besides, I won’t say anything revealing.” Somehow, I was finding that being in Miss Planter’s presence gave me strength and clarity of thought.

  I dialed Helen’s number using Miss Planter’s desktop. Helen’s phone rang, and a voice said, “Hello?” It was Helen. There was no mistaking her voice.

  “Yes, Helen. It’s me. I’ve got to talk with you.”

  “Randall! Did you hear about Franklin? I’ve been trying to reach you; he’s missing!”

  “I heard something through the grapevine. Listen, I need to talk with you. Can you leave the kids for awhile and meet me after work today at Luigi’s Italian Restaurant?”

  “Yes. All the kids are with relatives; they’re farmed out for a few days. What’s this about?”

  “I can’t talk now; we’ll talk later. See you at seven, then? Come alone.”

  “I’ll see you at seven. Bye.”

  I turned to Karen. “I’d like for you to come along but don’t know if you should get in any deeper than you already are. In fact, it might be wise for you to put some distance between us. These people play rough.”

  “Let me decide that,” said Miss Planter. “I’m the counselor; that’s what you pay me for. Pick me up at 6:30, my place. Let me give you my address.”

  Television Journalism

  I got off work at 5 p.m. and headed straight home for a shower and a change of clothes; since I’d be buying dinner for two women tonight, I wanted to look decent.

  When I walked in the door, there were Walter and Dr. Burke watching television. The local news was on, featuring Darla Bell, one of the talking heads. She was in the field, so the story must have been important. Usually, for less flashy stories, minor news reporters are used, but for the big stories they let the anchormen out. This probably had something to do with ratings, but I don’t know how. Anyway, she was covering the story of the missing doctor and was seen interviewing a local police detective, Lieutenant Bryan Bond, who said a few things that roused the good doctor…

  Darla Bell: “Lieutenant, can you share with us any leads concerning the strange missing-person case of Dr. Franklin Burke?”

  Lt. Bond: “Yes, I think we can say we’ve established a motive for his disappearance.”

  Dr. Burke sat up at this. I wanted to take a shower but came back out from the hallway to watch this segment. Walter was also all tuned-in.

  Lt. Bond: “As it turns out, a vast amount of money was removed from the bank account of Miss Susan Lovely, a known acquaintance of Dr. Franklin Burke, and it appears that this amount is quite significant.”

  “What’s that got to do with my disappearance?” asked Dr. Burke. “Are they trying to tie me in?”

  Darla Bell: “Can you tell us how much money is involved here, Lieutenant?”

  Lt. Bond: “Not at this time, Miss Bell, but our department will contact you when we’re allowed to share that information with the public. For now, let’s just say that a man on the run could live quite comfortably, probably for the rest of his life, on the amount he stole.”

  Darla Bell: “So what the police department suspects is that it was Dr. Burke who somehow made off with money belonging to Susan Lovely, a local celebrity model and heir to the Cornelius Lovely Chocolate fortune?”

  “What the heck?” said Dr. Burke. “She’s…”

  “Sh-h-h-h!” said Walter, locked in on the TV screen. “I wanna hear what she has to say.”

  Lt. Bond: “We’re not saying that it was Dr. Burke, Miss Bell. We will say that he is a ‘person of interest’ in this investigation, and…”

  With that, Lt. Bond looked at the camera and said, “Dr. Franklin Burke, if you’re watching this newscast, you ne
ed to report to the nearest police station and turn yourself in. We have questions that only you can answer. If you’re innocent, you have nothing to fear; if you’re guilty, it will go far better for you if you come in under your own power.”

  Then he turned his attention back to the news journalist. “That’s what this appears to be, Miss Bell. Dr. Burke had access and motive, motive since we have ascertained that he was in dire financial straits at home…”

  Dr. Burke quickly stood up. “This is bull! ‘Dire financial straits?’ Does everybody know my business?”

  “Keep calm, Franklin,” I said. “The police are just doing their job; they’re trying to find a reason for your disappearance.”

  “I’ve got to call Susan and find out what this is all about! How could she let them suspect me?” He looked at me and asked, “Would she suspect me?”

  That last question hurt. He looked like a wounded puppy. Maybe he really was in love with that girl, and not just her money.

  Walter looked uncomfortable through this whole scene but remained stoic and glued to the television.

  “You can’t be calling anybody, Franklin.” I said. “If the mob finds out you’re here, your life won’t be worth a plugged nickel.”

  “What’s a plugged nickel?” asked Walter.

  “Something that’s worth less than five cents,” I said.

  Franklin waved his arms as to hush us both. He’d heard something more disturbing. “What’s this now…?”

  Lt. Bond: “… Dr. Franklin Burke was the family doctor for the Lovely family and was the personal physician to Cornelius Lovely in his last moments on earth. The department has obtained a court order to exhume the body of Cornelius Lovely, for the purpose of an autopsy.”

  “An autopsy? He died of natural causes!” screamed Franklin. Walter and I looked at each other, as if we didn’t care for the way this was all headed.

  Lt. Bond: “… if we find anything unusual, anything out of the ordinary, we will then charge Dr. Franklin Burke with first-degree murder in hastening the demise of our beloved city patriarch, business leader, and benefactor, Cornelius Lovely.”

  Walter turned to Franklin. “Looks like you’re in hot water, Doc.”

  “Stealing? Murder? I’ve got to get out of here! I’ve got to contact a lawyer!” said Dr. Burke, standing and almost in a panic.

  “You’ve got to stay alive; that’s what you’ve got to do!” I said, over his protests. That rang a bell with Dr. Burke, who sat back down on the couch.

  Walter tried some comforting words, like, “Jail’s not all that bad, Doc,” but somehow I don’t think the good doctor was convinced.

  I had to get my shower.

  At Luigi’s

  I picked up the beautiful Miss Planter at 6:30 p.m. sharp, then we drove over to Helen Ceraldi-Burke’s part of town, to Luigi’s Italian Restaurant. Luigi’s was a family-owned, real Italian restaurant, with Luigi being a first-generation Italian-American immigrant. He was quite aged and spent most of his time at home now, but his sons, grandsons, nephews and nieces continued to run the restaurant. They had managed to keep the atmosphere of Italy in the establishment, with stonework and wrought irons displays, and of course real Italian food, but had also modernized where they could; they had to stay with the times to compete.

  I arrived with Miss Planter; we found a booth and got comfortable. A few minutes later, Helen walked in. I stood to greet her, and she was a bit surprised by seeing another beautiful woman in my presence. I didn’t expect her reaction, but for some reason, it felt good.

  I made the introductions and sat Helen with us in our booth next to me.

  “Helen, I have something to tell you. I need for you to remain calm and not make a show.”

  “Okay, Randall. Nothing could rattle me now. I’m ready.”

  “Franklin is in danger from people who want to kill him; he didn’t fake his death, and he didn’t steal anybody’s money. These people mean business.”

  “Kill him? Who would want to kill Franklin? And how would you know this?”

  I told Helen about meeting the Lovely cartel, about a group planning to ”rub out” Franklin for his involvement with Susan Lovely, for any blemish on the Lovely Chocolate Company’s global reputation. After explaining the economic reasons for wanting to do away with Franklin, I could see Helen was visibly angry.

  “He’s continued to have contact with that Susan Lovely woman?” she said through clinched teeth.

  “Yes, it appears so,” I said.

  Helen was disappointed and frustrated but managed to say, “Thanks for at least not telling me in front of Mindy, or any of the other children. Let them continue to think their father is loyal.”

  “He’s just confused,” I said. “Mixed-up.”

  “Confused! I don’t think so; he knows exactly what he wants.”

  “Look,” I said, becoming an advocate for Dr. Burke, “A guy like that is a girl-magnet. They throw themselves at him; they don’t care if you exist or not. He’s managed to stay loyal most of his married life.”

  Helen turned to me with this “‘I don’t believe what I’m hearing” look and said, “Do you know how lame that sounds?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I know how it sounds, but the issue is a real one; wherever he goes, girls follow.”

  Helen said, “This is a bit unusual; why are you taking up for him, after…” and then she stopped in the middle of her sentence. She continued on another path, saying, “You would think Susan Lovely’s family would want to rub Franklin out.”

  “She really doesn’t have much family left,” I replied. “That’s why the Cornelius Lovely estate was left to her. It disappeared, but Franklin had nothing to do with that.”

  “If he planned to marry it, why would he steal it?” she said, almost as though she were joking.

  “I also need to tell you something else, something that you can’t share with anybody, not your siblings, and especially not your children.”

  “What’s that?”

  I looked around for prying eyes and listening ears, then said in a low voice, “Franklin is safe and hiding at my home.”

  Helen looked surprised and tried not to react. All she could say was, “What is he doing there? Why hasn’t he contacted us?”

  “He was brought there by Walter Dale, who rescued him from the plans of the cartel; those are the people who want to kill him. Walter beat them to the punch and staged his ‘death.’ We’re taking care of him, but we won’t let him contact anybody by using the computer or telephone. Everything is bugged, and that’s why I wanted to see you face-to-face.”

  “Walter Dale, from college?” Helen asked this with a frown. “He wasn’t exactly in our group, was he?”

  Suppressing any anger, I replied, “No, Walter was pretty much in his own group. Genius is oftentimes misunderstood, and it can sometimes create a lonely world.”

  Helen dropped that subject and moved on: “I tried to contact you soon after Franklin wound up dead, or missing. Why didn’t you return my call?”

  “I’m sorry about that, but we were busy trying to get settled with Franklin. We had much to do, and like I’ve said before, the phone is suspect.”

  “I see,” she said. She looked around, then focused her attention elsewhere, and said, “Miss Planter, are you helping with all of this?”

  “I’m sorry, Helen. I asked Miss Planter if she would join us because I think she can be of benefit to you and Franklin. I was hoping that after this calms down and things get back to normal, there might be a time for what she has to offer.”

  “And what’s that?” Helen asked.

  “I decided a few months back that I really wasn’t happy, and so I wanted to see someone who could give me a ‘course-correction’ in life. I did a little research on resources in Lovely and decided that Miss Planter was the person to help. She’s a mental health counselor, and I’ve been visiting her office in hopes of finding a happier path in life.”

  Helen looked at me as
though she didn’t really understand. I continued, “I have talked with Franklin, and he’s agreed to attend marriage counseling sessions. Miss Planter has agreed to be the counselor for you and Franklin. Now, if you’re willing, these sessions could become a reality. Maybe all problems and issues can be brought to light and examined and solved.”

  “Maybe,” said Helen, “but there’s still this little problem about Susan Lovely.”

  “You understand I’m not a full-fledged marriage therapist,” said Miss Planter. “I’m more of a counselor. I listen to detect problems, then suggest possible solutions based on what is found.”

  “How did you ever manage to get Franklin to agree to something like this?” asked Helen, turning back to me. “He’s never shown any interest when I had suggested it before.”

  “We made a deal,” I said. He owes me something, and I suggested this as a means of payback.”

  “He owes you his life. I see. It’s not his idea; it’s yours; you’re holding his feet to the fire.”

  “Well, yes, but he didn’t refuse. He could have. That’s a start.” I was trying to sound positive without defending Franklin too much; I didn’t want her to think I was on his side. I didn’t want her to get the idea that I took sides.

  “Do you know what kind of a risk you’re taking?” asked Helen. “Everybody in the city is looking for Franklin. The police have practically taken up residence in our guesthouse; I had to chase them out of the garage. They only agreed to locate there because it’s air-conditioned. They’re convinced he’s drained Susan Lovely’s bank account and murdered old man Lovely in order to gain access to his billions!”

  “I know you’re under a lot of stress, Helen, but remember this: There are cutthroats out there looking for him. The only way for him to stay alive is to stay hidden. He can do nothing at the moment to clear his name. He’s made mistakes, but he’s your chosen husband and the father of your four children, all who seem to love him.”

 

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