Nimble Be Jack: A Jack Nolan Novel (The Cap's Place Series Book 2)

by Robert Tarrant

  Two minutes later, Liz was dressed and out the back door on her way to Cap’s downstairs. I sat looking out at the rain trying to understand what had just happened. I hardly knew this woman and in a general sense I wasn’t really even attracted to her. I did feel compassion for her as she was going through the adversities of trying to separate from her husband. Yet, compassion is a far cry from attraction. It was the eyes. I’m a sucker for a woman who looks me in the eyes. That’s part of the hold PJ has on me, but Liz’s eyes are even more hypnotic than hers. Liz’s eyes seemed to draw me in as if by magnetic force.

  I’d suggested Liz go down the inside stairs so she could avoid the still heavy rain, but she totally rejected that idea. I didn’t argue as I understood that neither of us needed the gossip that would engender. Mostly, I was terrified of Marge finding out Liz was up here. Geez Jack, you’re standing up to a mobster, but you’re afraid of Marge. Damn right!

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Realizing I was getting hungry, I wandered down the inside stairs. The office door was open, but Marge was on the phone so I just waved as I went by. The rain had been good for daytime business and my usual spot at the end of the bar was occupied. I was looking down the bar for a spot to sit when I noticed Moe coming out of the kitchen carrying a tub of rolled silverware. I strode across the floor and asked, “You had lunch yet Moe?”

  Looking momentarily surprised he answered, “Ah, no not yet Boss.”

  Gesturing toward an empty booth along the wall I said, “Good let’s grab a booth and get a bite.”

  “Ah, sure Boss.” Gesturing with the tub, “Just let me drop this off with Dana and I’ll be right over.”

  We had both just settled into the booth when Liz, carrying a tray of dirty dishes toward the kitchen, stopped at our booth and asked, “Do you two gentlemen desire to order or are you just having a meeting?”

  Her formality caught Moe and I off guard. We were both momentarily speechless. I finally said, “We’re going to get something to eat. Just stop back after you drop that off, we’re in no hurry.”

  Liz chuckled and walked off. I turned to Moe, “You think she was pulling our chains?”

  Moe chuckled, “Duh! You think?”

  A couple of minutes later Liz stopped back and took our orders. Moe ordered a Coke to drink with his burger and, remembering that PJ was going to stop in later, I followed suit. I wanted to be on top of my game when PJ arrived, not several beers cloudy.

  While we waited for our lunch Moe asked, “So, what’s up Boss? I know you’ve got something on your mind. We never eat lunch together.”

  I shook my head, “Right on both counts. We never have lunch together, and that’s going to change, but I do have something I need your opinion on.”

  I was looking down at the Coke Liz had just delivered when Moe said, “What if I don’t want to have lunch with you? You gunna make me?”

  I looked up with an obviously startled expression and found myself gazing into a huge black face grinning from ear to ear. “Damn it Moe. All the shit I got going on and you’re jerking my chain too?”

  Guilt crept across his face and he said, “Sorry Boss. It’s just that you’re so easy sometimes. Just couldn’t resist.”

  “Okay, now that you’ve had your fun, can we be serious for a minute?” With that I proceeded to tell him about my meeting with PJ, Hassinger, and Kaur.

  After I finished Moe said, “Doesn’t sound like the cops are going to be much help. Just as good if you ask me.”

  Liz arrived with our burgers and we took a couple of minutes to start eating. Then I said, “Well, PJ has another idea,” and I told him about her idea for me to record Bracchi and tell him if he didn’t go away I’d turn it over to the authorities.

  Moe looked at me intently, “Boss, I just don’t think something like that will scare Bracchi off. Guys like him only understand raw force. They live by the sword and die by the sword. The threat of the sword just isn’t enough. It’s not in their DNA to back down unless they’re certain they have more to lose than to gain, and the only way they’re certain, is to feel pain, not just the threat of pain.” I held his gaze but didn’t say anything. Moe continued, “I know you don’t want to hear that Boss, but it’s the truth. We’ve got to fight fire with fire.”

  “I understand what you’re saying Moe, but we just don’t have the kind of force needed to stand up to Bracchi. The little ruse you pulled off the other day worked once, but I sure don’t think it will again.”

  Moe took another bite of his burger and pondered my statement. I took a long drink of my Coke and wished it was Landshark. Finally, Moe said, “Maybe we should ask Justin what he thinks. Somehow I get the feeling he’s pretty comfortable doing things like he did last Saturday when Bracchi was here. I think he had a gun in that duffle bag and I think he would have used it if necessary.” He paused in thought and then continued, “Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think he was bluffing.”

  If Moe only knew how correct he was. I don’t think Justin has the word bluff in his vocabulary. Yet, for a number of reasons, I didn’t want to turn to Justin for help. Certainly not if I could avoid it. I replied, “I don’t know Moe, I don’t think we want to go down the path of the type of response Justin might provide.”

  Moe wrinkled his brow, “What do you think his story is anyway?”

  I replied, “Don’t know, but would guess he’s ex-military of some type. If we get him involved we might unleash something even harder to control than Bracchi.”

  “He might be hard to control, but at least he’d be on our side.”

  Moe and I kicked ideas around during the remainder of our lunch, but didn’t really come to any real strategy. I told him that PJ was stopping in after work and I would see if she had any additional thoughts. Moe said he’d be hanging around tonight, seemed like he’d been around every night lately, and I promised we’d talk again after PJ left.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  After lunch with Moe, I wandered back to the office and spent some time with Marge going over her business plan for the quarter. She’d developed a plan for the entire year with anticipated revenue and profit for each quarter. This quarter was well above target and target was well above actual profit in the same quarter last year. I had the distinct impression that the best thing that had happened to Cap’s since Uncle Mickey opened was to put Marge in charge, so I told her so.

  She smiled and said, “Well, that was always Mickey’s plan. He just didn’t live long enough to do it.”

  I was dumbfounded, “What do you mean that was his plan? I didn’t know anything about that.”

  “Be no way you could. You weren’t involved in the business when Mickey was still alive.”

  “How did you end up working here in the first place? Sissy told me you were in the banking industry before you came here.”

  Marge smiled as if recalling something pleasant, “Well I met Jean first. She and I met at the Publix over on Sheridan. I had just moved down here after retiring. She had just moved down with Mickey. We saw each other a couple of times at the store and got to talking. We were both new to the area and didn’t know our way around or any other people. We just hit it off. Started going for coffee or shopping together. Jean told me about her husband starting this bar, but she was concerned because he didn’t have any real business experience. She knew I’d just retired after twenty years in investment banking in New York. She suggested to Mickey that I could help him with the business aspects of running the place. The truth was, that while retirement seemed like a good idea when I left New York, the sudden change of pace was driving me crazy. I told Mickey that I would help, but only if I could be a bartender first so that I could get a real feel for the business. He had been pressing me to quit tending bar and run the place just before he died.”

  I asked, “After Mickey died, why didn’t you tell me that was the plan? Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Jack, it was your bar then. I figured you would come up with your
own plan to run things. Besides, it was kinda fun watching you.”

  “Marge Williams, if you weren’t a woman, barely five feet tall, I swear I’d punch you in the nose.”

  “Oh, come on Jack. We got to the same spot and doesn’t it feel so much better that it was your idea?”

  I snapped, “Regardless of who’s idea it was, putting you in charge is the best thing that ever happened around here.”

  Marge actually blushed before turning to me and saying, “Since I’m in charge, can I ask you to run an errand for me?”

  “Sure. Well, let me clarify that. If it’s quit pouring down rain out there, I’d be glad to run an errand.”

  “It’s raining? I had no idea. I’ve been holed up in this windowless cave all day.”

  “Hey, nobody said it’s easy being in charge.”

  It had quit raining and I spent most of the afternoon running errands. I actually enjoy being the designated gopher because it makes me feel like I’m actually contributing to the operation of Cap’s.

  It was about 4:00 p.m. and I had just returned from my last errand, when PJ came through the back door. I was surprised to see her so early, “Hi there. I didn’t expect you for a couple more hours. You got crime under control early today?”

  She shook her head, “Wish that was the case, but the truth is I’m at a dead end on the cases I was working today and I couldn’t stand to listen to Tim ranting any more.”

  I asked, “What’s Tim ranting about?”

  She scoffed, “He’s got a homicide trial next week and he assured the LT that everything was in order. Unfortunately, he discovered some problems with the chain of custody on a couple pieces of crucial evidence.”

  “Well, at least he discovered it now and not when he was on the stand. The prosecutor can probably figure out a way to rehabilitate the situation since he’s got prior warning.”

  PJ smiled, “That’s what I said, but Tim’s spinning around about the incompetence of our evidence techs and the property room custodians. I’m sure it’ll all work out, but Tim’s really in a huff, so I just left.”

  I gave her my most sincere smile, “Well, Tim’s loss is my gain.”

  PJ rolled her eyes and gestured toward an empty booth, “Let’s have a drink and talk about our favorite mobster before you start hitting on me.”

  “Sounds like a plan. What are you drinking these days?”

  “How about a glass of your house chardonnay.”

  I asked Dana for a glass of chardonnay and a Landshark. Walking over to join PJ, I couldn’t help but think that the earth was wobbling on its axis when cops didn’t drink coffee and did drink chardonnay.

  I slid into the booth across from PJ, raised my bottle and said, “Cheers.”

  PJ clinked her glass against my bottle and replied, “Cheers.” Without even taking a sip she continued, “Have you done any more thinking about our meeting this morning?”

  All business. That’s the only thing I don’t like about PJ, she’s always focused. Of course, when her focus is on saving my sorry ass maybe it’s not such a bad thing. “I have thought about it. As we discussed after Lieutenant Kaur left, the OC guys aren’t going to be much help, and to tell you the truth that’s fine with me. I told you I wasn’t interested in getting involved in some protracted attempt to bring Bracchi down. I just want to make him go away.”

  PJ took a sip of her wine and said, “I understand you just want him to go away Jack. It’s just that we need to get some leverage on him to compel that to happen. He’s not going to suddenly decide you’re a nice guy and leave you alone.”

  “Now that’s a start.”

  PJ looked quizzical, “What’s a start?”

  “You admitting that I’m a nice guy.”

  “Damn it Jack, can’t you be serious just once? This is a serious situation.”

  “I know it’s serious PJ. I’m the one with the cracked ribs, remember!”

  We each took a drink and let the moment pass, then PJ asked, “What about my suggestion that you record your next encounter with Bracchi and use that to persuade him to move along?”

  “I’ve given that some thought. My concern is that he may not be the type persuaded by threats. He may only understand real force. Violence.”

  Surprise flooded PJ’s face, “What are you talking about? Bracchi has a small army of thugs. How are you going to fight that?”

  “That’s the part of my plan not fully developed yet.”

  PJ shook her head in obvious disdain of my humor and said, “Thinking you can use force against Bracchi is just plain crazy.” Gesturing around the bar, “What are you going to do, arm your little band of fishermen and tourists?” Shaking her head again, “Your crazy idea will just get someone killed.”

  “Okay. Okay. I’m just throwing ideas out. You know, brainstorming.”

  “Sounds like a lot more storm than brain to me.”

  I wanted to defend myself with the story of Moe’s confrontation with Bracchi and Justin’s capabilities. Those facts coupled with my suspicions that Justin could recruit others just like himself made the whole approach sound a little less crazy. I knew better than to mention any of that, so I just sat there and took PJ’s rebuke.

  Silence dominated the conversation for a few minutes while we both addressed our drinks. I waved at Dana behind the bar with the universal sign of another round and then said, “Answer this. If this Lorenzo Mancuso, that Lieutenant Kaur mentioned, is such an OC kingpin in this area, how can Bracchi be trying to muscle in on my place? I thought these guys had defined turf?”

  “Hassinger and I were talking about that just before I left this afternoon. Our theory is that Mancuso doesn’t know anything about Bracchi trying to take over Cap’s. Mancuso is without a doubt considered the top dog in South Florida, but most of his activities are focused on the ports and airports. Oh, don’t get me wrong, he’s likely involved in the whole gambit from murder to drugs, but most of his business tentacles are wrapped around import, export or transport businesses. Not bars, strip joints, and other small businesses like Bracchi terrorizes in the northeast.”

  “Well, it’s good to know there are some advantages to being a small business. My local Mafia Boss isn’t interested in me.”

  Just as PJ was replying, “You must not have gotten the memo, there isn’t any Mafia in America,” Liz delivered our drinks to the table.

  Picking up PJ’s empty glass and my empty bottle Liz said, “Jack, I’m leaving for the day, if you need anything else just flag Renee down. And Jack, thanks for this morning. I really appreciated it.”

  PJ’s eyes followed Liz as she walked away and then she turned to me and cooed, “And Jack, thanks for this morning. I really appreciated it.”

  “It’s not what you think. She got soaked in the downpour this morning and I let her dry her clothes at my place upstairs.”

  “And Councilor, what were you doing while her clothes were in the dryer?”

  “Sitting at the table drinking coffee.”

  PJ scoffed, “Someone, who looks like she does, goes upstairs to your apartment and takes her clothes off and you just sit at the table drinking coffee. You might get some people to buy that, but not me Jack.”

  “It wasn’t like she was naked or something, she was wearing one of Sissy’s long tee shirts.” As soon as I said it I wished I hadn’t.

  “One of Sissy’s tee shirts? Sometimes you’re just disgusting Jack.”

  All afternoon I was looking forward to PJ stopping in but somehow our interaction was just going from bad to worse. It was time for another period of silence and contemplation of our drinks.

  After taking an uncharacteristically long drink of her wine, PJ turned toward me and sighed, “Jack, I don’t mean to be on the muscle with you today. I’m afraid my personal feelings are clouding my judgement. I’m sincerely worried about you. Bracchi is a dangerous man. I’m just worried you’ll get even more seriously hurt than you already have been . . . or worse.” I wasn’t positive, but
I thought I saw just a hint of moisture in the corner of her right eye.”

  I took a deep breath and gave her my bravest smile, “I appreciate you trying to help me PJ, and I really appreciate that you care personally. I haven’t made too many real friends since I moved down here, but I would like to think you are one of them.” Deep inside I knew I wanted PJ to be so much more than a friend, but I’d settle for friendship at the moment.

  PJ reached across the table and patted me on the arm, sending bolts of lightning pulsating through my body as she said, “You know I’m your friend, but you have more friends around here than you realize.”

  We talked more about the situation with Bracchi and I think PJ was starting to understand my hesitation with attempting to scare Bracchi off with the threat of going to the authorities, even with a recording. I couldn’t articulate what my idea, actually it was Moe’s idea, of meeting force with force meant, so we ended up where we started, with no solution.

  We made small talk for awhile. I had a third beer but PJ declined a third glass of wine. About six, PJ said she needed to get going to pick Angela up from her band practice. I wasn’t certain I believed that, since earlier in the day she’d said Angela had a ride home with the parents of a friend, but I didn’t press the issue. As I watched her walk out, a new idea on how to fend off Bracchi began the birthing process in my mind.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  After PJ left Tuesday evening, I kept mulling an idea over and over in my head. In many ways it was so ludicrous that I wouldn’t even let myself say it out loud. I certainly wasn’t going to tell Moe about it. He’d just tell me I’d lost my mind. PJ was out of the question, she’d tell me it was illegal. Hell, it probably was borderline, and the wrong side of the border at that.