by Rick Polad
Chapter 25
It was a little after eight when I left the mayor’s house. I had two more stops to make before the night was over. A couple miles to the west the neighborhoods started to change, for the worse. Twenty minutes later I was back at the track. The sun had set.
I drove to Ronny’s apartment and parked across the street, as far from the street light as I could get. A light was on in his unit, number 205, and the front door was open. I was guessing that, if they went to the bar, it would be around ten. And I had no idea how long they would stay. It could be a long night and I was fighting the urge to close my eyes. Whiskey made me sleepy.
The building was early ramshackle and struggling to maintain that. Ripped screens, cracked and peeling paint, missing shingles, and a front lawn that was mostly dirt were the outward signs of neglect, the collect-the-rent-and-mind-your-own-business school of ownership.
People came and went. Every so often I caught a shadow moving across the inside wall of 205. A gentle breeze blew in off the lake, moving around scraps of paper in the street. At a quarter to ten, the light in Ronny’s apartment went out. He came out, slammed the door, and ran down the steps, skipping several. The door of a beat-up yellow Chevy creaked as he pulled it open and slid in. It had been a long time since those hinges lined up. After lighting a cigarette, he put the car into reverse, banged into the car behind him, pulled out, screeched to the corner, and turned left. Away from the bar but towards the track.
I watched for another twenty minutes. Five minutes later Jesse appeared out of nowhere and slid into the passenger seat of the Mustang. I tried to look like I wasn’t surprised.
“Hi, kid. I can disappear just as easily!”
“Good. You may have to.”
“The mark gone?”
“About a half hour ago. You get somebody to cover for you at the Blue Note?”
“Sure, my nephew is filling in till I get back.”
I twisted toward him and gave him my best serious look. “You sure you want to do this? It’s for a good cause but it is none-the-less illegal.”
“Sure. What’s the worst? You say this guy’s not likely to call the cops, right?”
“Right.”
“And we’re not stealin’ nothin’, right?”
“Right.”
“So maybe the guy comes back and tells us to get the hell out. Unless he’s got help. Then maybe we get hurt a little.”
“That doesn’t sound like fun, Jesse.”
“Been hurt before,” followed a shrug of his shoulders. “And I can do a little hurtin’ myself.”
“Well, I don’t think he’s coming back for quite awhile. We should be alone.”
“What is it we’re looking for?”
I sighed. “That’s one of the problems. I’m not sure. I want you to just get me in and then be a lookout. I’ll do the searching. Maybe I’ll know what it is when I see it. You make your way around the back and get in. The lock should be a piece of cake for a man of your talents.” I smiled. “Give me a wave and I’ll come up.”
He smiled too. “You’re the boss. Ready?”
“Sure. When we get in, blend in by the front window and watch for company. The guy is skinny, about my height, and drives an old, beat-up yellow Chevy.”
“Got it. See you in a couple minutes.”
“Take you that long?”
“It’s not the doin’, it’s the gettin’ there without lookin’ out of place. And you never know what might be waitin’ on the back porch. If there’s a crowd I’ll be back.”
“Jesse, I still would rather you show me how to do this. The lock on that door can’t be that tricky. You don’t need to stick your neck out.”
“I know. You’re not twistin’ this old arm. I’m glad to help after what your old man did for me.”
“That’s history, Jesse. You don’t owe him or me anything.”
“I know that too, son. But you see the real reason is I don’t have that much faith in your learning ability. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll just take care of this and we’ll get the hell outta here.”
I ignored the insult and nodded.
Jesse left as quietly as he had come. He had done time for what he was about to do so I knew he had thought about it. I watched my mirrors for trouble, keeping one eye on the front window. After five minutes I started to worry. After ten I decided to go and see what the problem was. As I walked across the street, trying to keep my heart from racing, I saw him wave in the window.
I let out a breath and casually climbed the rear stairs. The second door to the left of the stairs was 205. There was no one in sight. Music was blaring from one of the units down on the end. Normally I wouldn’t be happy about someone else’s noise. This time it was a present that would cover any noise I might make. The latch was broken on the screen. I pulled it open and quickly slid into the apartment.
I couldn’t see anything, but my nose was working fine. There was a sour smell that I knew didn’t come in with me or Jesse. I closed the door and let my eyes adapt.
I found Jesse next to some heavy, orange drapes at the corner of the front window. “What took you so long?” I asked.
“I had to wait for Romeo trying to convince Juliet to come out for an evening on the town. She finally told him to come back when hell freezes over.”
“Nice smell.”
“Sure, if you live at the dump.”
The room was a mess. Clothes, dirty plates, racing forms, and open bags of chips. I didn’t want to see if they were empty. If there was something to find it probably wouldn’t be lying out in plain sight and I really didn’t want to touch anything. I couldn’t remember when I’d had my last tetanus shot.
“Do your thing, kid. I’ll watch the front. And watch out for the...”
I jumped three feet as a crack came from the next room. As I moved toward the front door Jesse grabbed my arm.
“Calm down, Spencer. Mr. Clean has a bug zapper in the kitchen. Must have a thing about flying insects. Now crawlers is another matter.”
“Who the hell has a bug zapper in the house? I knew the guy was strange, but Jesus.”
Jesse went back to the window. “Get goin’. I’d like to get the hell outta here.”
I walked down a center hall that led to the kitchen in the back right. Bedroom and bathroom on the left. Bedroom first. The smell was worse in the kitchen. I had smelled garbage before but this was distinctive. Garbage and sweat and who knows what else. I had never smelled anything quite like it. I assumed it was coming from the garbage but there was garbage everywhere. There was a can in the corner. It was almost empty. The sink was full of dirty dishes. Looked like he had used them all up and then given up eating. Or maybe he just picked the least dirty plate for his next meal. A rickety card table was piled with dishes and racing forms. A cup of coffee had spilled and soaked one of the forms. It was still wet. I was finding it real hard to believe this guy was from the same family as the mayor whose house seemed a universe away. There were hand-written lists of horses’ names lying with the forms.
The bedroom probably was the place he would hide something, but I hesitated. If this was how he kept the places company could see what would the private bedroom be like? And I had absolutely no intention of combing through the bathroom. Ordinarily I would have taken a deep breath and walked in. But I didn’t want to do any deep breathing. I didn’t want whatever was in there too deep in my lungs. The door was open. I peeked in. Not much to see in the dark so I got my flashlight out of my back pocket.
The room was a mess but the garbage seemed to be confined to the rest of the place. Clothes strewn all over and a bed that looked like it had never been made. The only other furniture was a nightstand and a four-drawer dresser. One picture in a frame with broken glass lay flat on top of the dresser. It was of Ronny standing next to a good-looking horse. I shined the light over the surfaces and saw nothing interesting. I kicked at some of the stuff on the floor and decided the drawers were the obvious target for
a search. Rifling through Ronny’s underwear didn’t seem too appealing either. I should have brought gloves. The bug zapper cracked again.
The bottom drawer was almost empty. Just a pair of jeans and a grungy baseball cap. Cardinals. The second drawer was filled with old racing forms, some dating back three years. They were covered with numbers, horses’ names were checked or circled, and dollar amounts were written in the margins. I assumed this was Ronny’s ledger of bets. Looked like he hadn’t done too badly for himself. Some entries were in the thousands. What did he do with it? There was nothing else in the drawer. The third drawer held shirts and cotton tops. I pushed them around enough to see if anything else was there and got lucky. A white, business-sized envelope was at the back of the drawer. I took it out. Nothing on the outside but it wasn’t sealed so I opened it.
Inside was a picture of Marty and several canceled checks. They were all for $500 and were all dated within a few days of the first of the month and were made out to Elizabeth. There were nine checks and the dates spanned three years. I took out my notepad and jotted down the dates. The checks were imprinted Mr. and Mrs. Jeffrey Grey, signed by the mayor and endorsed by Beth. The picture looked fairly recent. On the back was written: Birthday, three years old. Looked like a woman’s writing. I guessed it was Beth’s. I also guessed that she wanted the father to have a picture of his daughter. Maybe she knew who the father was after all. I put the picture back in the envelope along with all but one of the checks. I considered taking them all, copying them, and bringing them back, but decided the less time spent here the better. I kept one and closed the drawer. I figured if Ronny ever bothered to check he probably wouldn’t remember if he’d had eight or nine.
The top drawer was the underwear drawer. Gotta have one of those. But I really didn’t want to go there. Besides, I already had what I was looking for—a physical connection to Beth and Marty. But it wasn’t exactly what I was expecting. After making sure the drawers were all closed, I made my way back to Jesse. One thing I didn’t have to worry about—Ronny would never notice if anything had been disturbed.
“All done, kid?” Jesse asked without taking his eyes off the street.
“Yup. Let’s get outta here.”
“You find what you were lookin’ for?”
“I think so. Thanks, Jesse. I’ll let you know if it helps.”
“I don’t wanna know nothin’, Spencer. I was never here. And if anybody asks, I don’t even know you.”
“Deal. Thanks never-the-less.”
“You’re welcome never-the-less. Now get your butt out. I’ll lock up and leave after you.”
“You want me to wait in the car and make sure you get out okay?”
“I already got out okay. What you see now is just your imagination. Move.”
I moved. I pulled the door closed and shut the screen as quietly as I could. Still nobody around. I drove a mile away, pulled into a strip mall and parked. Squirming in the seat, I got out my notepad. The dates were all between Marty’s birth and Beth’s death. I made an assumption. Since Marty’s picture was in the envelope, the checks were sent to Beth for support of Marty. So, could be the mayor was living up to his responsibilities. Or could be he was paying for his brother’s. But, if the notes on the forms were winnings, Ronny could afford to pay his own way. But then he would not be the type to own up to responsibility. Another question was if Ronny had that kind of money, why live in that dump? And why work a menial labor job at the track? As I thought of the questions, I jotted them on a new page in my pad.
My last appointment of the day was at eleven. I planned to stake out Mean Spirits in hopes that Bobby was there and would come out alone. But with the way Ronny babysat the kid, that wasn’t likely. Actually, I didn’t have much of a plan. I figured I’d play it by ear.
I had figured out one thing. I had often wondered how anyone could stand working stables at the track. In Ronny’s case the answer was easy—it smelled better than his apartment.
Chapter 26
Sometimes you do stupid things out of frustration. Showing up at Mean Spirits was probably one of those things, but I was willing to do it anyway. Ronny was so determined to keep Bobby from talking to me that I figured Bobby must have something to say. And since I didn’t know where Bobby lived, I figured I’d take a shot at the only place besides the track I knew he’d be. And I had backup, so I thought I was hot stuff. I parked on the street and waited for Johnny to find me. He didn’t take long.
At five after eleven, Johnny leaned down, and that took a good deal of leaning, and stuck his head in the passenger window. I told him to get in. That was easier said than done, even with the seat back all the way.
“Spencer, you want me on your payroll you gotta get a bigger vehicle.”
“Johnny, when I am able to afford a payroll, I’ll add a Cadillac to my fleet.”
“Now you’re talkin’,” he said with a big grin. “You figured out how we’re gonna do this yet?”
“Well, there’s still a few things I haven’t worked out,” I said hesitantly.
“A simple no will do.”
“Okay, no. The goal is to get this kid alone so I can talk to him. He’s led around by this Ronny Press. Not too hard to spot; skinny, brown ponytail, rat-like face, bad teeth, about my height. The kid looks like a clean-cut kid you’d introduce to your sister.”
“Not my sister, pal.”
“Okay, not mine either. Let’s play this by ear. If Bobby comes out alone it’s easy. I grab him and we talk. There’s an alley a few doors away I thought would make a good spot. You cover me. If they’re together, I suggest that Bobby and I take a walk. Ronny will suggest otherwise. You convince him he’s wrong.”
“You sure they’re here?”
“I’m sure Ronny is here. His yellow Chevy is in the lot across the street.” I pointed. “And I am told that where Ronny goes, Bobby follows.”
“You just expectin’ the two of them?”
“I’m hoping so. But if there is a crowd, we use some common sense. Did you bring along some help?”
“Sure. I got two more.”
“They as big as you?”
He laughed and stretched his arm out the window. “Nobody’s as big as me. I figure they’re gonna be drunk and not thinkin’ too straight. So once you isolate the kid, I can handle this Ronny and three more. After that I don’t like the odds, drunk or not.”
“Okay. But let’s even it up. If they’ve got more than us we wait. Okay?”
“Fine with me. I got nothin’ against better odds.”
“Where are you going to be?” I asked. The driver of a passing car honked and yelled something out the window. I looked around and didn’t see anyone.
“I’ll be around. Don’t worry. We’ll be close. Now I gotta get outta this tin can before I cramp up.”
He opened the door and had as much trouble getting out as he had getting in. Some disadvantages to being big. However, tonight the advantages tipped the scale in my favor.
The traffic was moderate. There weren’t many cars in the lot across the street. A wooden sign on a post let everyone know the parking was just for the bar and where they could expect to have their cars towed. I wondered who checked and if any cars were ever towed. I had considered going in to see how many people were in the Ronny party but if the crowd was sparse I would be noticed. So I stayed put. But as I watched I decided the crowd wasn’t that sparse. More were going in than coming out; it was just a walking crowd, not a driving crowd. This was a typical neighborhood bar and they called them neighborhood bars because people from the neighborhood went there to drink.
Who goes to a bar on Monday night? I would think you’d need some time to recover from the weekend. I guessed the same people who went to bars any other night. After awhile they all blended together. Why should Monday night be any different? But there were basically two types that went in. There was what I would think were the regular customers, the neighborhood guy who was stopping after the late shi
ft to wind down or was getting away from his wife, sitting with a glass till he knew she was asleep and he could go home to quiet. Rather come here than fall asleep in front of the television. He was forty or older. Then there were the young couples, early twenties; guys hoping to get lucky, dressed in gaudy slacks and loud shirts, hair slicked back, and towing giggling girls done up in their Monday-night-best. Usually they came in two couples at a time. The guys would have liked it that way. More courage if a pal is around. Someone to give knowing looks to and wink at with a nod towards the lucky girl. The couples were the kind that the older guys would shake their heads at and order another beer.
There were single girls but not very many; ages between the older guys and the younger couples. And they didn’t look like they would take any crap from anybody. They were going in for a drink, not to look for love; but maybe if love found them that would be a bonus. Judging by the walk-in crowd, the place was doing a decent business. I re-thought going in for a look but decided against it. I didn’t want to take a chance on alerting Ronny. He was a jerk, but he was a wary jerk. If he saw me, he’d get out fast. If I waited outside I would have surprise on my side and that counted for something, even if I still lacked a concrete plan. I hoped the surprise would be his and not mine.
The evening was comfortably cool. I was not at all sleepy anymore. The stink in Ronny’s apartment had jarred me awake. Around 12:30 more people were coming out than were going in. I hoped that one was closing time. I should have checked. At a quarter to one, Bobby came out.
