by Mike Faricy
Sometimes my best ideas are beverage fueled. It was a little after eleven, a little after the take out pizza and somewhere in the middle of the twelve-pack we picked up on the way home from The Spot. I was sitting in Louie’s ratty recliner, watching a rerun of the Blackhawks playing the Bruins in game three of the Stanley cup. Louie was snoring on the couch.
She answered on the third ring, sounding surprised she was even getting a phone call. Maybe it was the hour or maybe she had caller ID and just panicked when she saw it was me. “Hello?”
“Hey, Annie, Dev Haskell.”
“Ooh, bad time, Baby, very bad,” she whispered.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, sure, but I mean us…you and me,” I could barely hear her, she was talking so softly. “You probably shouldn’t call me. At least for a bit,” she whispered.
“You with Lydell?”
“Mmm-hmmm.”
“Actually, that’s why I called. I wanted to talk to him, if it’s okay.”
“What about?” She was back to a normal tone and there was a sudden edge to her voice.
“Nothing about you and me. Actually, I wanted to hire him, if he’s available.”
I was aware of a male voice in the background, but couldn’t make out what was being said. It sounded like Annie had covered the phone and I could only pick up about every fifth word. Eventually a soft spoken male voice came on the line.
“Yeah?”
“Hi, is this Lydell?”
“Yeah.”
“Lydell, my name is Dev Haskell. I know Annie through a mutual friend.”
“Who’s that?”
That caught me off guard. “Oh, I’m blanking on her name just now. But, I wanted to talk to you about a little side job, if you’re interested.”
“I don’t do contracts or loan collections anymore,” he said.
“I don’t think this would be like that. This is more…just sort of having a presence. You’d just be keeping me safe while I go about my investigation business.”
“Investigation?”
“Just looking up records, mostly…things like that. It would probably be pretty boring. I don’t anticipate any trouble. I’m just playing it safe.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’m wondering if you could meet me tomorrow morning at my office. We could talk a little further, see if it’s something you’d be interested in.”
“I suppose I could do that.”
“Great. Would ten-thirty work for you?”
It did. I gave him the address and directions to my office and fell asleep in the recliner with Boston up one zip.
Chapter Forty-Two
Lydell washed up on shore around eleven-fifteen, about forty-five minutes late. Not that it mattered. I was still in the cleaning mode, putting things in piles to be hauled out to the trash. What was left of my desk was out on the sidewalk along with the remnants of Louie’s picnic table. I ran out of paint covering up the red threat spray painted across the wall, so you could still read ‘sshole’ and easily jump to a pretty logical conclusion.
Gary, the fix-it guy, was working on the door frame, actually replacing the entire thing, cutting the new pieces with a table saw set up out on the sidewalk. He was one of those guys who seemed to operate with a lot of tools and little wasted motion.
Oscar had boarded up the front window with plywood the night before. Oscar’s mood hadn’t seemed to improve when he informed me he was charging me for the special order glass. I was going to argue with him, but figured on second thought it might be better to just apologize, yet again, and then shut up.
I was on my knees, sorting through my stack of files. Over the past couple hours about all I’d been able to accomplish was to turn the one large pile of my stuff into twenty-seven smaller piles and I still had the better part of a file drawer to go.
“I’m looking for Mr. Hacksell,” a soft voice said.
I’d only seen him once before and that had been at night from the back when I was fleeing the scene. He appeared a lot larger close up, but it was definitely Lydell. A nose with a large bump along the bridge, scar tissue around the eyes, a line running maybe five stitches long across the base of his chin and, of course, the shaved head. His black T-shirt was stretched taught over a muscled, ‘V’-shaped upper body with bulging biceps and a flattened six pack for a stomach. I’d missed the tribal tattoos across his massive shoulders and biceps that night, but then again I was moving pretty fast. He looked like a muscular stick of dynamite just waiting for an excuse to explode.
“Lydell?” I said, kneeling back and looking up.
He nodded.
I groaned as I got to my feet, then extended my hand. “Dev Haskell. Come on, we’ll wheel these office chairs out the door. We can talk in private in the hallway while Gary’s working here.”
Gary gave a half-hearted wave as we wheeled two office chairs out into the hall and down by the door to the ladies room.
Lydell spun his chair around, then sat down backwards on the thing, facing me with his massive arms resting across the back of his chair. He had large hands with thick fingers. His brown eyes were dark and piercing, and his gaze seemed unblinking.
“You said you were looking for protection? Someone upset with you?” He indicated the office door behind me where Gary was busy replacing the door frame. Our new door from the basement was leaning against the hallway wall and was stenciled with the words “Fire-Exit” in red letters.
I nodded and gave a brief explanation. “I’m working a case…some rich guy is involved and he’s got a couple of thugs who broke in and trashed the place, smashed all our furniture. They tossed a file cabinet through the office window onto my car out on the street, then knocked all the windows out of my car.”
“Yeah, I saw all that junk piled up on the sidewalk. You call the cops?”
“No, they were actually here when I discovered the damage.”
“So you know who did this.”
I nodded, thinking for a minute. “I’m ninety-nine percent sure, but I can’t prove anything. Let’s just say it fits in pretty neatly with a case I’m working on. I’ll be honest. I think they murdered a woman. Someone I should have helped and didn’t. I know they’re into moving some stolen goods, flat screens, computers, iPhones, stuff like that. One of them is on probation and just out of a half-way house. They’re stupid, vicious and I suspect they’ll try something again. I also think they’re bullies and a broken jaw or a little rest time in traction would probably go a long way in adjusting their attitude.”
Lydell nodded, apparently seeing the sense of my argument and then asked the sixty-thousand dollar question, “You going to go looking for them?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m going to continue my investigation. I’m guessing they’ll try something stupid again, maybe come looking for me. I’d just like to be prepared if they do.”
“How many we talking?”
“I’m aware of three guys. One of them is no problem, little twerp with spiked hair named Pauley Kopff. The other two are big guys, maybe body builders. They seemed to have some knowledge of martial arts. I don’t know who they are and I don’t know anything about them.”
Lydell nodded while he seemed to think everything over, then gave a shrug. “I don’t know, it sounds simple enough. You want me around just in case, right? You’re not going to go looking for these guys?”
“I’m not going to go looking for these guys or, if I do, you don’t have to come along.”
“Sounds fair enough,” he said.
“What’s this gonna cost me?” I asked.
“Three hundred a day just to hang around. Minimum three days paid in advance. Any interaction with these individuals, the fee is commensurate with the results. Five hundred for a shouting match, seven-
fifty for any physical contact. If they end up in the emergency room, that’s a grand, per individual. Over night stay in the hospital, three grand, per individual. All payable upon completion. You cover any court costs and my legal fees. I don’t cut grass, do laundry or help clean up. I’ll work an eight-hour shift, unless we arrange something in advance.”
I had the distinct impression this wasn’t the first time Lydell had rattled off his fee schedule. “You need a contract?” I asked.
“A handshake and three days in advance will do.”
Chapter Forty-Three
“Actually, he comes across as a pretty nice guy,” Marsha said, then thought for a second. “In a smarmy sort of way. Very impressed with himself, likes sports cars, made a point of telling me twice that his wife had passed away,” she said, then glanced over again at Lydell and smiled.
We were eating late lunch cheeseburgers in a corner booth at Shamrock’s, out of earshot of everyone, except Lydell, who seemed focused on the NASCAR event running on the televisions overhead.
“He make you an offer?”
She shook her head and swallowed. “Not in so many words, but it was out there on the table.”
I gave a questioning look.
“Believe me, it was out there. A girl just gets to know it. I want him to come out and say it, not make it look like I forced myself on him.” She gave another quick glance to see if Lydell was listening.
“You run into Dawn Miller?” I asked.
“That H.R. cow, no thankfully. At least, not in the past two days. But she was not happy to see me when I started in the office. Made a point of telling me she didn’t know what Gaston was thinking and she couldn’t guarantee I would be on staff for any length of time. God, she’s one of those women who whine when they talk. Really annoying. More than a little bit frosty, if you ask me. I’d be willing to bet she hasn’t gotten any in quite a long time.”
“Be careful around her. You remember what I told you?”
“Being Gaston’s latest love toy? Oh, please, Dev. Believe me, he’s got the pick of the litter in that place. He’s not wasting his talents on her. Oh icky.”
“Just be careful. I think she sees herself as guarding the gate. Remember, I tailed Pauley to her house.”
“Yeah, yeah, relax, will you?” she said, then took another dainty bite of her cheeseburger as she shot another quick glance in Lydell’s direction.
“What’s next?” I asked.
“God, we’ve got some old chick dancing under the name, Cougar. Wants to hold a prayer meeting at Nasty’s at the end of every shift. Yeah sure, that’s what everyone feels like doing after dancing for six hours. Have a prayer meeting after two in the damn morning.”
“Actually, I meant at Gaston Enterprises.”
“What? Oh, sorry…you know leading the double life and all. I’m in there for a few hours tomorrow, then Gaston takes me out to lunch for my week review on Friday.”
“Review?”
“I’m guessing lunch will be at some hotel and he just might have a room waiting.”
“You’re not actually going to go into a hotel room with this guy, are you?”
“Relax, I’ve already got the ‘mom needs to be taken for a doctor’s appointment’ excuse and a lab class after that lined up. I’ll spring it casually on our way to lunch, use it as a reason to stay off any adult beverages. The more I know about this guy, the more convinced I am that Desi was set up.”
“Just watch yourself. Lydell here has his hands full just taking care of me.”
“Pity,” she said and smiled as Lydell looked over at the two of us.
Chapter Forty-Four
We were driving back to the office in Lydell’s truck. He had some country station programmed in on satellite radio. The truck, with its dual wheels and Ultimate Fight Club stickers may have looked like a beast, but it was plush and comfortable as hell inside and a giant step up from my de Ville. I was enjoying just looking out the window as Lydell drove.
“So, Marsha works for you? Sort of like a special secret agent or something?” he said.
“Actually, no. She doesn’t work for me. She more or less inserted herself in my investigation and is attempting to get some sort of reaction or a signed and notarized confession from our main suspect. Nice gal, but she’s sort of in the way, muddying the waters.”
“Think the guy will sign the confession?”
I turned to face Lydell. “I was kidding. That’s the problem, she’s just sort of in there mixing things up with no specific goal or end game in mind.”
“Sounds sort of like life,” he said.
“Yeah, sort of.” I wasn’t sure if he had missed my point entirely or was thinking way deeper than I had given him credit.
When we got back to the office, I phoned Karla. She answered on the second ring.
“Hi. Karla, Dev.”
“What’s the latest?”
“The latest? Well, no real progress on the investigation, although someone did trash our office and pretty much totaled my car.”
“You’re kidding. Was it a hit and run?”
“No, just a lot of damage…knocked all the windows out of my car. The thing is gathering dust down in the impound lot now. I’m thinking real hard about pulling the plug on it, my car.”
“You need a set of wheels? I got a vehicle here just collecting dust.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, you can have it. I mean to use if you want. But, I gotta tell you…its not exactly what you’d call subtle.”
“Would it fit under the category ‘pimp my ride’?
“Definitely.” She laughed.
“We’re on our way.”
Karla wasn’t kidding. The thing was a Lincoln Town Car, the kind with the suicide doors and the vinyl top, only this vinyl top had a flame pattern emblazoned across it, Spreewell spinning rims, a one foot diameter steering wheel that looked like a chrome chain and about a thousand coats of lacquer over metallic dark blue paint. I stood there and stared once the tarp had been pulled off.
“Sweet,” Lydell said.
“Yeah, in a strange way. It’s a sixty-four, if you can believe it. Get this, that’s actually Nightmare blue. The paint color, I mean,” Karla said.
“It really shows off this gold crucifix on the trunk,” Lydell said staring at the emblazoned car trunk.
“Don’t even get me started. That’s six caret gold paint across the trunk, if you can believe it. That was sort of the last straw.”
“Where’d you get this thing?” I asked.
“Ramon, one of my ex’s.” She shrugged, but didn’t elaborate. “His toy, I just paid the bills. God, he could stand here and tell you things about this car for the next two hours, way too much information. But it’s all mine now, to do with as I please and I’d be pleased if it can help you out. Course, like I said, it’s not what one would call subtle.” She laughed again.
“That’s gotta be the understatement. Is it insured?”
“Up the wazoo, so don’t sweat it. But let me warn you, the mileage is downright sucky.”
“It beats walking. Lydell’s been hauling me around and I’m sure he’s had enough of my advice and direction. Yeah, Karla, if your offer is still open, I’ll take it.”
“To use,” she said.
“To use,” I repeated.
We went up to Karla’s office, so she could make a copy of my driver’s license and give me a copy of the company insurance policy.
“Just don’t smash it up, promise,” she said
“Scouts honor. Hey how’s my pal Pauley doing?” I asked.
“Pauley?”
“Kopff. Short, spiked hair, not too bright, probably attempting to scam you a number of different ways even as we speak. Last ti
me I saw him here he was cleaning interiors.”
“The scam part could apply to just about anyone of them. But I know the guy you mean. Hope you’re not counting on seeing him. We let him go earlier in the week.”
“Oh?”
“The usual. They get out of the half-way house and suddenly they just don’t seem to be able to handle the responsibility side of things. You miss three days work here and you’re out. That’s my policy. He missed four. I think he used up both grandmothers and an elderly aunt or something. Amazing how all the funerals seem to land on a Friday or a Monday and just happen to extend the weekend.”
“What did he say?”
“Say? I don’t think he even bothered to come in. We finally just called and left a message, told him his final paycheck was in the mail.”
“You know where he might be working now?”
“I doubt he’s working anywhere, Dev. Guys like that are always too busy planning the next scam.”
Chapter Forty-Five
“I don’t like it,” Louie said. He had his feet up on one of the church basement tables he’d found somewhere and brought in for our desks. My feet were up on the other one. Lydell looked to be dozing in the corner.
“The car? Yeah. I know, I’m getting a lot of strange looks and it’s a bit of a gas hog, but that’s still cheaper than renting or buying some bomb.”
“I meant your lady friend firing that jackass.”
“Oh, Pauley…you can’t blame her for firing the guy.”
“I get that part. I just don’t like the fact that he now has twenty-four hours a day free to come after you. His last visit worked out so well for us,” he said then jiggled his chins in the general direction of the plywood still over the front window.
“Except that, don’t you think he would have tried something else by now?” I said.
“Possibly,” Louie said. “But does he know you’re even doing anything? I don’t know, maybe he thinks he scared you off. As a matter of fact, are you? I mean, doing anything?”
