Murder at the Polo Club

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Murder at the Polo Club Page 4

by Dianne Harman


  She felt exhausted when she returned to her room, and soon she fell into bed and slept fitfully through the night. When she awoke in the morning the only thing she could think about was that in just a few short weeks she would forever lose her claim to the art glass collection. If something happened to Pia once she was married, it would go to her husband, Jack Rutledge. The thought came to her that she had to do something to prevent that from happening, and if it meant something bad had to happen to Pia, so be it. They weren’t close, and her parents were dead. She knew her parents wouldn’t want the collection they’d spent a lifetime assembling, not to mention the joy and pride they’d had in it, to go to a man they’d never met. She walked over to the desk in the hotel room and booted up her laptop. Within minutes she found what she was looking for and knew how she would be spending a good part of her day.

  A sad crooked smile crossed her face as she thought about the events that would be taking place, but she knew she had no other choice. Resolutely, she walked down the hall to the elevator, ready for breakfast, knowing she had to be strong for what was going to take place that evening.

  CHAPTER 8

  Roberto picked up his phone and said, “Battisto here. Is that you, Dominic?”

  “Yeah, just checkin’ in with my favorite restaurateur and nephew. Your numbers from last month look pretty good, Berto. Looks like this year’s gonna’ be better than last year. Wonder if yer’ up to openin’ another restaurant. Sal called a little while ago and said I need to find somewhere to dump some money. Lookin’ fer a place that won’t set off all the bells and whistles at the IRS or FBI. I was thinkin’ a restaurant might be a good place. Thinkin’ of an upscale one down in Orange County, say in Laguna Beach or Newport Beach. Plenty of money down there, and people always love a classy high end Italian joint. Whaddya think?”

  “Yeah, I’m up for it. Last time I was down in Laguna Beach, I saw a lot of Frenchy and high-end restaurants, and even had the thought Laguna could sure use an upscale Italian one. With the Pageant of the Masters and the Sawdust Festival, summertime’s a zoo down there, and people are always lookin’ for somewhere to go for dinner before the Pageant or after they’ve been to the Festival. In the winter months they get a lot of European visitors because of their location and it being an artsy town. Want me to check out the real estate and see what’s available?”

  “Get on it. Sooner we get started the sooner I can get Sal off my back. So, how ya’ doin’? Sal told me he’d heard from a little birdie that the Italian looker ya’ was seein’ left ya’ fer some polo guy that she’s gonna’ marry. I tol’ him the birdie must be wrong, because being’ Rocco’s son, you’d never let some broad leave ya’. Also told him I wasn’t leavin’ my part of the Family business to some wuss who’d let a woman get away from him, least not if he wanted her, and from what I heard, ya’ wanted her.”

  Roberto was quiet for a few moments trying to figure out what he should say to save face. Finally, he answered Dominic. “Yeah,” he said laughing, “the broad decided she liked horses more than she liked Italian food. Her loss.”

  Now it was Dominic’s turn to be quiet. In a voice that held menacing undertones he said, “Might wanna rethink lettin’ the broad leave ya’, Berto. Don’t make ya’ look too good, and if the rest of the Family hears about it, don’t think they’d want a man runnin’ the Family business when he can’t even keep the woman he wanted. No, Berto, make the problem go away, or I will. Can’t have my nephew lookin’ like a fool. I promised your dad, Rocco, I’d look out fer ya’ when he was gone. Well, he’s gone, but if yer’ gonna’ make a fool of yerself, I can’t help ya’. Like I said, make the problem go away.”

  While his cell phone was still pressed against his ear, Roberto felt sweat trickling down the back of his neck. He stood up and began to pace the room, pausing to look in a large mirror. The man who looked back at him appeared to be a very successful Italian businessman who obviously spared no expense on his physical appearance, from his private trainer-toned body, to his carefully trimmed salt and pepper haircut. His designer clothes fit so well it was obvious they’d been tailored just for him. That man feared no one, particularly not a small dark-haired middle-aged Italian woman.

  He smiled at the reflection of the large diamond pinkie ring he wore, the ring his father had given him on his deathbed. He’d made a promise to Rocco that he would never do anything to cause the Family shame, and that he would follow in Rocco’s footsteps. He knew what he had to do for his father and the Family.

  “Dominic, it was a momentary lapse on my part. I’ll have someone take care of the matter within a couple of days. By this time next week, it will be old news. Trust me, this will never happen again. Anyway, she’d used up her usefulness to me. I’ll call you after the matter has been taken care of.”

  “I’ll be waitin’ for yer’ call, Berto. See that ya’ don’t disappoint me or the Family. By the way, the little birdie who tol’ Sal about yer’ little problem also tol’ me that the man she’s gonna marry is havin’ a big cocktail party next week at the polo club he owns in Palm Springs. Thought maybe ya’ could call and express some interest in bein’ an investor in his team. Might get ya’ or whoever’s gonna take care of this problem into the party. Talk to ya’ later.” Dominic didn’t wait for a response from Roberto and ended the call.

  Roberto went back to his desk, dreading the upcoming telephone call he knew he had to make. There was no other way to handle the problem his uncle had called him about. He’d made a deathbed promise to his father and that was that. The Family was more important than anything else. Even though he knew Dominic regarded him as the son he’d never had, if this problem wasn’t taken care of, Dominic would make certain that Roberto was taken care of. Some things were inviolate, and this was one of them. The man who had been tapped to lead the Family could never be seen as weak, particularly when it came to a woman.

  He pressed Luigi’s telephone number into his cell phone and immediately heard his voice saying, “Hey, Boss, got somethin’ fer me?”

  “Yes, there’s a little matter I need taken care of. Her name is Pia Marshall. I’m sending you a photo of her as we speak. She’s moving to Palm Springs in a few days and is going to marry the man who owns the Rutledge Polo Club, a privately owned polo club there. I hear he’s very wealthy, and he’s hosting a cocktail party at the polo club next week. I’m going to call the polo club and express interest in investing in the team, but I’ll tell whoever I talk to that first I’d like for my assistant to see the grounds, the training facilities, and the barns, plus I’d like him to attend the party. I assume they’ve issued invites or tickets to get onto the grounds. I Googled the polo club, and it’s got a security shack. As soon as I get the invite or ticket, I’ll have it couriered to you. That will get you in. I’ll call to let you know when to expect it. Think you can handle this?”

  “Not a problem. Not the first time I’ve had to handle somethin’ like this for ya’. Nothin’ will ever link me to her death.”

  “It better not,” Roberto said. “One more thing, I know sometimes you play rough. I want this to be over with fast with as little pain as possible to her. Got it?”

  “Got it, Boss. I’ll wait for yer’ call.”

  Roberto pressed the red button on his phone and ended the call as a feeling of nausea washed over him. The perks to being the number two man in the West Coast Family were huge, but sometimes, like now, he momentarily wondered what his life would have been like if he hadn’t been born into the Family. It was a fleeting thought, one that was usually eased by two fingers of Maker’s Mark straight up. He walked over to the bar, poured the drink, and quickly knocked it back, waiting for the warmth from the whiskey to get rid of the numbing cold he felt. This time it took awhile.

  *****

  After Roberto’s call, Luigi stood by the window in his home office, thinking what would be the best way to kill Pia Marshall. In the past work he’d done for Roberto, he’d always used the Mafia’s preferred
method of a close range shot to the temple from a .22 pistol. Since Roberto wanted it to be quick and from the way he’d talked, probably not leave any bloody mess, Luigi knew he was going to have to be a little creative.

  While he stood there he remembered a recent conversation he’d had with one of the other members of the Family, Nuccio. He’d told Luigi that his boss, Mario, had him take out Mario’s wife. The Family didn’t like attention drawn to it through divorces. Evidently Mario’s wife had seen a lawyer and was going to file for divorce, because she’d found out about Mario’s long-time mistress and that he was the father of her child. Mario had told Nuccio to get rid of her, but he didn’t want a mess or for her to suffer, since he didn’t want his children hurt any more than necessary by her death.

  Nuccio told Luigi he’d used chloroform which was easy to buy, and it caused instant death when used in excess of the recommended amounts. Luigi scrolled through web sites on his phone and found several places that sold chloroform over the counter to be used as a solvent. As luck would have it, a large hardware store that stocked industrial solvents and cleaners happened to be very close to his home. He called the store, and the young woman who answered the phone assured him they had plenty of chloroform in stock. He made a mental note to buy it and some heavy duty medical gauze pads on his way out of town when he went to Palm Springs. He smiled, thinking how happy Roberto was going to be when he found out that Luigi had been able to make his problem go away.

  CHAPTER 9

  Marty spent the afternoon appraising one art glass piece after another. The collection was so spectacular she felt like she was the only one who held the key to a museum. She’d appraised other art glass collections with far more pieces in them, but quality-wise, this was the best she’d ever seen, and to think it was in a private collection. She felt humbled she’d actually been able to hold the pieces in her hands.

  The floor of Pia’s bedroom was covered with the pieces Marty had taken out of the boxes. She had no idea where Jack and Pia planned to put the collection, but hoped it would be in a special location that was relatively earthquake proof. The thought of one of the pieces tumbling to the tile floor in an all too common Southern California trembler was one she didn’t want to dwell on.

  She made a mental note to remind them to secure the pieces with a sticky putty like substance that had been developed just for that very purpose. All of the museums used it. She assumed Jack probably had his art pottery pieces secured with it since they were highly breakable, but she wanted to make sure the glass pieces were also properly secured and as safe from harm as possible.

  When she’d finished measuring, inspecting, and photographing the art glass, she walked down the hall and heard voices coming from the library. Pia and Jack were sitting side by side on a brown suede couch looking over what appeared to be a list. She knocked on the open door to announce herself.

  “Come in, Marty,” Pia said. “We were just going over the guest list for tonight, and like I told you earlier, other than my sister who’s visiting here in Palm Springs, and Jack’s son, I don’t know anyone who’s coming to the party. I’m so glad you’ll be there, so at least I’ll have someone to talk to,” Pia said laughing.

  “Pia, trust me,” Jack said, “as my wife-to-be there will be a line of people wanting to talk to you. Everyone’s curious about the woman I’m going to marry. If anything, you’ll be so tired from talking and meeting people, that the only thing you’re going to want to do when this is over is go to sleep for a very long time.”

  Later, Marty would remember Jack’s words and wonder if he had some sort of an inner sense about what would take place that night.

  “You can count on me being next to you tonight, Pia,” Marty said. “Don’t worry. I’m sure everyone will think Jack made a very wise decision when he decided to marry you. To change the subject, I’m finished with the art glass collection. Jack, do you want me back here tomorrow to do your art pottery collection, or do you want to wait a couple of days, so you two can recuperate from the party?”

  “I’d like you to come back tomorrow. The sooner I can get these things insured, the better I’ll feel. What did you think about Pia’s collection?” he asked.

  “Quite simply, it’s the best I’ve ever seen, in or out of a museum. It’s priceless. I’m afraid the insurance premium on it will be hefty, but as priceless as those pieces are, they definitely need to be insured.”

  “Really?” Pia asked. “As I told you earlier, I know nothing about art glass, and I certainly never thought the collection was as good as you’re saying it is. I’m glad I didn’t know that when I packed up the pieces and drove them out to California from New Jersey. I think I even left the door of the U-Haul truck unlocked when I stayed in a couple of motels. It’s probably just as well I didn’t know the value of the collection. I would have been a nervous wreck.”

  “Jack,” Marty said, “it would make me feel a lot better if you called Dick at the insurance company and asked him if you can get some temporary insurance, it’s called a binder, to insure the pieces for three million dollars as of today. Tell him I’ll get the appraisal to him within a week. I’ll make it a priority. I really don’t like to think you’re having a big affair on the grounds here tonight, and a collection worth that much is in the house and uninsured. I’m sure none of your guests would enter the house, and I’m guessing since neither of you knew the value of the collection or what was actually in it, you haven’t told anyone about it. It’s just so incredibly good I really want to see an insurance binder put on it.”

  “Sure, if you think it’s that important, I’ll do it right now.” He stood up and walked over to the house phone on his desk and placed a call to Dick at the insurance company. When he finished the call he turned to Marty and said, “There, it’s done. The binder will be in effect momentarily.”

  “Pia, I’ve got to be leaving now,” Marty said. “I’ll see you in a little while, and thanks again for the invitation. Polo is a whole new world to me.”

  “Well, consider yourself in good company. It’s a whole new world for me as well. See you later.”

  *****

  Marty and Jeff arrived at the compound where they lived at almost the same moment. They opened their car doors and hurried to each other, both of them eager for a hug and a kiss from their new spouse. Jeff was the first to pull away, and when he did he held Marty at arms’ length, looking at her with a broad smile on his face.

  “Marty, don’t want the chief to know this, but all I could think about at work today was that I had to be the luckiest man in the world to be married to you. Thank you for agreeing to be my wife.”

  “At the risk of sounding schmaltzy, I’ll echo that sentiment, and if you look over at the gate, I think you’ll see that Duke’s beginning to realize this is a permanent situation. Judging by how fast his tail is wagging, I think he’s just fine with it.”

  They both looked over at the big black Labrador retriever who looked like he was grinning. He was in his customary position, waiting at the gate, which he did whenever Marty was away from the compound. Much to Jeff’s chagrin, and somewhat to Marty’s, he refused to walk on the desert floor. No amount of threats or coaxing had worked. Marty had done some research on her computer and came across an ad for dog booties. She’d decided to see if that would work out in the desert. He was a little big to carry out there every time he needed to commune with nature. Although she wasn’t thrilled about it now, whenever she walked him past the gate to take care of business, on went the pink booties.

  “Jeff, I’ll take Duke out for a walk and feed him while you start to get dressed. I won’t be long. I think you’re really going to enjoy tonight. Back in a minute.”

  She took the booties from the pouch she’d attached to the side of the wooden gate and slipped them on Duke. A few minutes later they returned to the compound, and she fed him his dinner.

  Marty hurriedly dressed and noticed Jeff was putting his police service pistol in the holster attac
hed to his belt. “Jeff, do you really have to bring that with you tonight? I mean, this is a party at the polo club. Why would you possibly need it there?”

  “Sorry, Sweetheart, but you better get used to it. I’ve been called out of parties and all sorts of events when something bad goes down, and I’ve found if I have my gun with me it sure saves me from going home or to the station to get it. Don’t worry. I’ll wear a blue sport coat over it, and no one will ever know I even have it on me.

  “As you can see, I listened when you told me on the phone what the color scheme for tonight was going to be. I’m appropriately dressed in white pants, a red and white striped shirt, and a blue blazer. I should fit right in, and I have to say you look fabulous. I think the blue and white hat adds a nice touch to your outfit. Ready?”

  *****

  “I know where the Rutledge Polo Club’s located. I’m assuming we’re going there. Right?” Jeff said as he began the thirty-minute drive towards Palm Springs from the high desert area where their compound was located.

  “Yes. Pia said she’d leave my name at the gate, so we could get in. She’s pretty nervous about this whole thing. That’s why she asked me to come. She told me that other than her sister and Jack’s son, she won’t know anyone who will be attending.”

  “Having lived in Palm Springs for a number of years and being a police detective, I imagine I’ll know a few of the people there. By the way, I forgot to ask you how the appraisal went today. Did you see some good stuff?”

  “No,” Marty answered. “I didn’t see some good stuff. What I saw was simply the best art glass that could be assembled in a collection in or out of a museum. I mean when you have pieces by Lalique, Daum, Tiffany, and a bunch of the other fine French and American art glass makers, it makes a collection priceless. I asked Jack, he’s the owner of the polo club and the man Pia’s going to marry, to call Laura’s boss, Dick, and request an insurance binder of three million dollars. I don’t think I’d be able to sleep tonight knowing the collection was uninsured.”

 

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