by Julie Ramson
But for today, I would enjoy the moderate temperatures and the sunny sky. I turned to Digs. “John said he knew his uncle worked for the mob.”
John had his hands in his pockets and he had slowed his gait to accommodate me. Killer ran ahead, then back, then around us. He was having a great time.
“I suspected as a teenager that Uncle Herbert was with the mob. When I first said I wanted to work for him he refused. By then I was still only about 22 or 23 and he didn’t want me involved. I wore him down. I needed a job. I had finished college but couldn’t find work and I wanted to go back to grad school.” We had gotten to the lake. My leg had started to throb and I moved toward one of the benches. John and Digs joined me.
Killer did not. He continued running in circles and chasing anything that moved. Squirrels, shadows, papers, trash. Not the brightest of dogs.
“Finally,” John continued, “he said I could help with some small things. I was with him and Tony Corelli one day, having lunch in a diner in Cicero. A man by the name of Louie Bacci joined us. He was with the mob. I was sure of it. He just had that look. He told Uncle Herbert to get rid of the kid. That was me. I excused myself and went to the men’s room. When I came out, only Tony and my uncle were left.” John stopped.
Digs and I were barely breathing. John sighed and continued. “As I was walking toward the table I heard Tony say something like “I don’t want him part of this, Herb. He’ll talk.” My uncle was nodding. When I got to the table they both stopped.”
Digs spoke. “You think that it was your uncle and Tony who robbed Lefty Three Fingers, don’t you?”
John nodded. “Lefty was robbed a short time later. I was afraid that my uncle and Tony had done it and I was scared. I told my uncle that I had another job. I think he was relieved. I don’t think he wanted me in that life either. Then Tony went missing.” John stared at the water.
Digs and I exchanged glances. “Do you think your uncle killed Tony?” I asked.
“At the time I convinced myself that Tony had taken half the money and disappeared. It was the only way I could go on seeing my uncle. I couldn’t believe he had killed someone. And when Tony’s body never surfaced, it seemed to be the truth. I did believe it. That he really had gone somewhere with his half of the money. That my uncle hadn’t killed him.”
“Did your uncle ever admit to taking the money?” Digs asked.
“We never talked about it. Never.” John looked at Digs. “I sure as hell never brought it up.”
“No, I don’t imagine you did,” I said. My mind was racing. Was this all there was to John's involvement with the mob? Had he done more? Helped his uncle more?
John looked back at the lake. “When the body was discovered last summer, I was just sick. Then, when I found out there was also a ring with the body – the skeleton, I knew.”
“How did you know about the ring?” Digs asked. “That wasn't made public.”
John stared at the lake, then sighed and turned back to us. “Shortly after that skeleton was found, a man named Mario came to see me. I think they call him Whip. He’s a great big guy with a large scar across his forehead. I could tell he had a gun in a side holster. He asked me about Herbert and if I knew anything about a robbery. I didn’t and told him so.” He shrugged. “Frankly, he scared the shit out of me. I told him Herbert had never discussed any of his business with me before he died.” He looked at Digs. “But he also asked me if I had ever seen Uncle Herbert wear a gold ring with black enamel and a serpent on it. I told him I had, that Uncle Herbert had always worn that ring.”
“So you knew the ring. I'm still interested in how you knew that the skeleton had one? That was never released to the public.” Digs repeated. “The police kept that secret.”
John turned to him. “Whip told me last August when he came to see me.” John swallowed. “He told me that there was the same ring in the box with the skeleton. I guess he wanted to shock me – and he did. I didn't know what to say.” John shrugged. “I guess he believed me about not knowing anything because I haven’t seen him since, thank God.”
“But then Louie came to see me.” He said flatly. “He arrived at my office one day just before Thanksgiving. He told me about the skeleton and the ring, too. He said Three Fingers had given each of them that ring. Each was specially made for a specific man. He said that he thought it was Tony’s body and that he believed my uncle and Tony were the ones who had robbed Lefty all those years ago. He asked if I knew.” John paused. Killer had finally worn off his energy and parked himself between me and John. “I told him the same thing I had told Whip. I said I hadn’t known anything about it. I told him I believed my uncle had nothing to do with any of it. The theft, Corelli's murder – if the skeleton was Corelli.” John paused, then continued.
“Louie said that he thought they did. My uncle and Corelli. That they'd hidden the money in my aunt and uncle’s house. I told him I had never seen any hint of that. They certainly didn't live like they had a lot of money.”
He rubbed his face with his hands. “Louie wanted to know if my aunt knew about the robbery.” John turned anguished eyes to us. “He just wouldn't let go of this!” He gave a deep sigh. “I told him she couldn’t have known! She wouldn’t have stayed with Uncle Herbert. Not Aunt Lily! Then she was murdered. My first thought was that Louie had done it - but when the papers reported his murder the next day. I didn’t know what to think.”
“Why didn’t you go to the police?” Digs asked. I thought he was a bit skeptical of this story too.
“With what? A suspicion about a 23 year old robbery and murder? Or two visits by different mob guys? And if Louie had killed Lily, why was he killed too? Who did it? I didn’t have any idea. I thought of Vito, Lefty’s son, but I didn’t have any real reason to think that.” He frowned. “And, frankly, Aunt Lily was dead. There wasn't anything I could do and I didn’t want to get involved.”
“Did Emily know any of this?” I asked.
John shook his head. “I don’t think so. She was just a kid when the robbery took place. And just after that her mother died and then about two years later, her father died. I don’t think she even had any idea of what Uncle Herbert did for a living.”
Digs and I sat silent. “Do you think Uncle Herbert robbed Lefty and then killed Tony?” John asked. He couldn’t look at us.
“We do, John.” Digs spoke quietly.
John nodded. “Yeah,” he said finally. “Do you think that’s related to my aunt’s death? It was the mob? Whip?”
Digs looked at me. “Yeah, John. I do think that.”
John nodded again and sighed. “Yeah, me too.” He reached down and scratched Killer's ears again. Killer promptly rolled over for his belly to be scratched. We sat in silence for a few minutes. I couldn't decide if I believed him or not.
John looked up and smiled. “Maggie, I think this guy is great. He’s a fantastic dog.”
“Yeah, I think he’s great too. He’s a coward and spoiled and has no pride when it comes to asking someone to scratch his belly......but he’s great.” Killer just smiled happily at all of us.
We left shortly after that. John went back to his office and Digs and I headed for the car.
“First, Digs, we have to call Sean and tell him about Whip.” I pulled out my cell phone and hit Sean’s speed dial. I got his voice mail and left a message saying that Whip had gone to see John in August after the bodies were found! And that Louie had gone to see him in November! Call me!
I put my phone away. “I don't know, Digs. This is all just too pat, don't you think?”
“Yeah. I agree. Now he says that two mobsters talked to him? Why would they do that?” Digs paused. “I don't think he's being entirely honest with us, Mags.”
I nodded. John had good looks and charm to spare and maybe he had always used it as a way to get what he wanted.
CHAPTER TWENTY - SEVEN
“Digs, I want to stop at the office. It’s been a while since I was there.”
&nbs
p; Digs nodded. “Fine,” he said but I could tell he was barely listening. “Why now, Maggie? Yeah, the skeleton brought the old robbery up and gave evidence that Tony had been murdered, but why now did someone kill Lily and Louie?”
Shaking my head, I said, “I don’t know. Unless everyone really did think it was other gang members. That no one in Lefty's mob would dare to rob him. I don't think anyone ever really suspected that Tony had robbed Lefty and then run off with all the money.
Even if they did, they wouldn't have thought Herbert was involved.”
Digs glanced at me. “We really don’t know any more than we did, do we?”
I shook my head. We really didn’t.
We walked into the office building. Damn. Mr. Slick bounded out at me, then stopped when he saw Digs. “Oh. Hi, Maggie.” He eyed Killer. “I didn’t know you had a dog.” He stepped back and looked at Digs.
I swear this guy has an alarm in his office that goes off when I walk into the building. And short of wearing a sign that said, “Go Away, Jason” I wasn’t sure of how to discourage him. Polite hadn’t worked. Even having a swollen face in multicolored hues hadn’t worked. Digs hadn’t worked.
“Hi Jason. Yeah, this is Killer.” I said as I reached in my purse for my keys. “Be careful. He can be vicious.” But Killer pranced up to Jason, his entire rear end moving with the enthusiasm of his tail wagging. I jiggled my purse, trying to find the keys for my office.
Jason backed off. “I don’t really like dogs,” he said, retreating further. “See you later.” Still keeping his eyes on Killer, he walked back into his office. I laughed and continued rummaging for the keys. Maybe my attack dog would work!
Digs stood there with a smirk on his face. “Maybe if you carried a smaller purse,” Digs suggested sarcastically. “Or cleaned this one out once in a while, you could avoid some....uh....hallway encounters.” I glared at him and continued looking for my keys.
He reached in his pocket and pulled out a set. My eyes bugged. “Where did you get those?” I asked. “Are those the new ones?”
He looked smug. “Yep. From your kitchen drawer.” He laughed at my expression. “How did you think I have been getting in and out of the apartment when I walk Killer?”
I hadn’t thought of that. “Hmm. Well, give them back.”
Digs just laughed and unlocked the door. He put the keys back into his pocket. The office looked the same except for the pile of mail on the floor from the mail slot. I picked it all up. Bill, ad, ad, magazine, ad, bill, life insurance offer. Maybe the way it had been going I should take another look at that one.
No messages on the machine. Yep, the clients were just stacking up. Not.
I separated out the stuff I could deal with now. Sitting at the desk, I brought out my office checkbook and wrote out the bills. Digs just leaned his chair back on two legs and, with his arms crossed up behind his head, looked at the ceiling.
Good thing I had gotten another check from Emily and would have the next few months of the rent, the electricity and the phone. I licked the bills closed and added return labels and stamps. I marked the payments down in my ledger and we were ready to go.
Killer had thoroughly investigated the entire office by this time. It certainly wasn’t the first time he had been there but he always acted as if he had never seen the place before. He kept sniffing the client chairs in front of my desk. I called him but he went on sniffing. I called again and he came running over, full speed. It never occurs to him that there really isn’t enough room for a full speed run in my office - or the apartment either. He always goes at full tilt, then has to come to a screeching halt on a dime. Which he can’t do - so he crashes into something. A chair, a wall, a couch, a door. And he just never learns.
This time he crashed into the reception desk and yelped. I got down and hugged him. “Killer, you idiot! Try to move at a more reasonable pace and you might not crash into something every time you have to stop!” I scolded but my ear scratches and petting and kisses to his neck might have weakened the scolding somewhat.
Digs rolled his eyes and shook his head. “The two of you. I don’t know which is worse!”
“Excuse me?” I asked. “I don’t run at full throttle every time I move!”
“No, Toots, you don’t. But you have a way of getting bopped on the bean, getting shot at, adopting the only dog in the world who hides in a bathtub when the phone rings, who ......”
“Yeah, I get the drift. But I don’t run everywhere. That’s the point here.” I said, eyebrows up and a haughty look on my face.
“That’s the only thing you don’t do. Well, that, and follow through on those love lessons you promised me.” He grinned.
“I never promised anything.” There went my stomach again. These flutters had to stop. “You just assumed I would do that. But......No. I won’t. So.....you’ll just have to -”
Digs grabbed me and pressed me against the wall. “I’ll just have to.....what?” He leered at me. “What? Tell me - if it involves anything to do with your body, I will probably be happy to do it.....” and he kissed me. Damn. The man could kiss. And he always seemed to catch me off guard. He pressed harder against me. Kissed deeper. He was really moving in for the kill.
My cell phone went off. I pushed him off and reached for my purse. “Hello?” Digs scowled and I moved out of reach.
“Maggie, Sean here. I just checked Mrs. O’Brien’s house. Brand new locks and a brand new security system. I talked to her and she is distraught that you were shot at. She wants to talk to you.” He handed the phone over before I could ask him if he’d gotten my message.
“Maggie? Maggie, dear? Are you alright?” I had to smile.
“Mrs. O’Brien! How lovely to hear from you! Did you have a good time at your daughter’s house?”
“Oh, it was grand, it was. But Mrs. Gorman called. She’s at her son’s and the way Patrick has carried on, I guess I will be at his house for at least a few days, too. Right now I'm at home. But you! How are you?”
“I’m fine, really. Although a few homemade cookies would really set me back on the path to recovery!” I teased her.
“Then I will start them right now! You and that lovely friend of yours come over now and I will have the batch in the oven! What’s his name? Shovels?”
I laughed out loud. “Digs, but you can call him Shovels, Mrs. O’Brien!” Digs raised his eyebrows.
“I’m on my way. Nothing like your cookies to get me moving!”
“I’ll be waiting. I’m going to mix the batter right now - what kind, dear? Sugar or chocolate chip?”
I groaned. “What a choice! Do the chocolate chip have nuts?”
“As many as you want. I’ll watch for you, dear.” She hung up.
“Shovels?” Digs asked. “Shovels?”
“That’s what you get for having such a ridiculous name!” I slid past him. “Now, Shovels, move. We have cookies to fetch!”
At the word ‘cookies’ Killer perked up. “Not for you, Goof! These are the really good kind - for people, not dogs.” He looked at me with mournful eyes. He thought he was a person, certainly worth the good kind of cookies, I could tell. “Okay, okay, you might get a few.” Happy again, Killer danced his way out the door.
Once in the car, Digs turned to me. “Honey, you can call me Shovels or Digs or whatever as long as I get some cookies from Mrs. O’Brien and some sugar from you,” he leered at me.
“In your dreams on both counts.”
When we pulled up to Mrs. O’Brien’s she bustled to the door. Sean was sitting comfortably in her kitchen, a cup of tea in front of him and a smug look on this face.
“I get cookies, too.” he said archly. “Mrs. O’Brien really likes me best.”
“Now, now,” she said. “I think ‘tis time that all of you started calling me Fiona - or Fee. That’s my name. No more Mrs. O’Brien.” She was bustling around her kitchen, clearly glad to be home. There were sugar cookies cooling on racks and chocolate chip cookies alread
y in a box. I could smell more coming from the oven. Killer had joined us and Fee was cooing to him.
“Sweet dog, sweet baby,” she said and slipped him a sugar cookie. He promptly gulped it down and rolled over for her to scratch his belly. She just laughed and dangled another cookie in front of him. He jumped to get it and she grinned with delight.
“He’s the loveliest dog, he is!” she said. Sean rolled his eyes.
Digs and I sat down and she put a plate of cookies in front of us. “Have you found out any more about Lily’s death?” she asked.
“We’re getting closer, we think,” I said around a sugar cookie. “But it is probably a very good idea for you to go to Patrick’s for a couple more days.”
She nodded. “Yes, I know. With Irma - Mrs. Gorman - at her son’s. I don’t want to be in this neighborhood all alone right now anyway.”
I looked at Sean. She was right. I hadn’t thought about it but there were three houses in a row that were empty - with one burned lot between them! Digs and Sean exchanged a glance.
Sean spoke. “That’s right, Mrs - Fee. I promised Patrick I would drive you over whenever you are ready to go.”
“In a tick, Sean. I just want to get the rest of these cookies out.” The only woman - and reason - I know of that could get Sean to wait patiently for anything!
“Sean,” I started, “we drove to Northwestern and saw John today.” I spoke softly when Fee turned back to the oven. “Give me a call later. It’s about Whip. And Louie.” His eyes widened and he nodded.
Fee finished wrapping all the cookies in shoeboxes. A mixture of both kinds for Sean and a bigger box of both for me and Digs. Or just me. “Because there are two of them, there are, dear,” she said to Sean. I arched my eyebrows behind her back and looked smug.
“Really, though, Sean, it’s because she likes me better than she does you!” I taunted. Fee just laughed, clearly delighted with our teasing and all the attention.
