Bulldog (Dev Haskell - Private Investigator Book 9) (6 page)

“He’s on the phone, just take a seat,” she said not looking up from her computer screen. I could see the reflection in her bifocals of the solitaire game she was playing on the computer. Behind her was a closed door. I took a seat in one of the plastic chairs against the wall and waited.

After a good fifteen minutes, the beige phone buzzed and without looking up she said, “Guess you can go in now.”

“Thanks,” I said and headed toward the closed door.

Louie’s description of Jackie Van Dorn as a ‘B’ grade movie star from the 40’s wasn’t far off the mark. He sat behind a massive desk and sized me up as I entered his office. From a good fifteen feet away I could spot the home dye job on his black hair along with maybe a quarter inch of grey roots showing, all of it slicked back and fitted to his head like a helmet. His mustache looked like it had been drawn above his thin lip with a cheap eyebrow pencil. He wore a light blue shirt with a starched white collar and a fire engine red tie. His coat was snow white with a red pocket silk that matched his tie. I pegged him for about a hundred years old. He studied me from behind a pile of files as I approached.

“Mr. Van Dorn, I appreciate you making time to see me without an appointment,” I said and extended my hand.

He looked at my hand for a moment and then, probably against his better judgment gave me a limp shake in response.

“Mind if I sit down?” I asked.

“Be my guest,” he said almost under his breath. The way he continued to stare gave me the feeling he was trying to read my mind.

“So,” I said taking a seat in an uncomfortable green leather chair and waited. Then I waited some more. I could still feel the vibration from the music down below in Nasty’s throbbing through the floor. Finally I broke the ice. “Your name came up regarding a real estate deal from a couple of years back and I wondered if you might be able to help me.”

“I guess that all depends.” His massive black leather chair squeaked as he tilted back and appeared ready to listen. The red lining of his suit coat became exposed and appeared to match his tie and pocket silk.

“A friend of mine was involved in a real estate closing about two-and-a-half years ago. You represented the selling party. I guess they were traveling or something. Anyway, I wondered if you might be able to provide some information on them, the sellers.”

“Information? What sort of information?” he asked then stroked his chin with his right hand.

“Well, their name for starters.”

“That’s a matter of public record I’m sure you could get in touch with the county and they could tell her.”

I didn’t know if the
‘her’
was a guess, a slip of the tongue or was he just letting me know he knew exactly why I was there.

“Along with their names I wanted to find out something, actually anything I could learn about them.”

“I don’t intend to reveal my client’s name just from the confidentiality standpoint, I assume you understand. Frankly, if you want the name that bad you can look it up. As far as
‘finding out’
about them I really couldn’t be of much help. Without going into specifics, my only dealings would be related to that particular transaction, hardly the sort of interaction that would allow me to gather information and then pass that on to you. There is that troubling little item called ethics that comes into play.”

“Ethic’s” I said and nodded. “You’ve a bit of a unique practice, Mr. Van Dorn, don’t you more or less keep Tubby’s feet away from the fire.”

“I wouldn’t really know what you’re referring to Mr. Haskell and I think I’ve been more than generous with my time. Please enjoy the rest of your day,” he said then pressed a button on his desk. A moment later a rather large individual entered the office. He showed the residual effects of a beating, a purple discoloration across the bridge of his flat nose and beneath both eyes, although the swelling had all but disappeared. His lip was split on the right side and seemed to be healing somewhat slowly. His entire right ear was bandaged up in white gauze. His eyes grew wide as I turned in the chair to face him and a sadistic look of recognition splashed across his face. He reached behind his back and pulled out a rather large looking .45. Fat Freddy.

“I’d like you to see our guest to the door. He’s finished here,” Jackie Van Dorn said, then sort of shooed me away with a few flicks of his hand.

Fat Freddy waved the .45 at me indicating I was going to leave. I wasn’t about to argue, I rose to my feet, gave Freddy a wide berth and headed for the door. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Van Dorn, I’m sure we’ll be in touch,” I called over my shoulder.

Van Dorn didn’t respond. The woman at the desk didn’t bother to look up from her solitaire game which one could only hope she was losing. I walked out of the room, down the short hall then picked up speed once I was at the top of the stairs.

“Oh no you don’t, not so damn fast,” Fat Freddy said half under his breath, then hurried down the steps after me.

I had to slow down to let him catch up. He thundered down the steps grunting. His hand holding the .45 was placed against the wall for balance. He was busy focusing on the stairs when I half turned, reached up and grabbed him by the wrist then twisted him over my shoulder. I hung onto his wrist and yanked the .45 out of his hand as he let out a loud groan then slid down a half dozen steps. His head bounced off the steps a couple of times and he skidded to a stop at the bottom.

“Freddy, Freddy, Freddy, you just don’t seem to learn,” I said then stepped over him, opened the door and walked outside. Freddy remained where he was, sprawled across the steps coughing and groaning. For my part, I couldn’t see any benefit in hanging around, so I quickly made it to my car and fled Nasty’s.

Chapter Twelve

“Yeah, I didn’t think
you’d get anything out of Van Dorn,” Louie said then twirled his index finger at Jimmy to signal another round. We’d been in The Spot for a couple of hours.

“What a sleaze ball.”

“Told ya,” Louie said.

“Did you know the entrance to his office is next to a couple of dumpsters behind Nasty’s?”

“No, I didn’t, but it’s not all that surprising, in fact it’s almost poetic now that I think about it.”

“I put a call into Casey about her abstract hopefully she can get hold of the thing.”

“Yeah, like I said it would be interesting to look through it. You get the name of the seller it’s probably nothing, but it just might be a good idea to pass that information on to the police,” Louie said making it sound like a pretty strong suggestion.

“Yeah, I know, I know,” I groaned.

“You worried about this Freddy character? It doesn’t really sound like you’ve gotten the relationship off on the best foot.”

“There is no relationship, Louie. I want that idiot and anyone else who may be associated with him to just stay the hell away from Casey and from me.”

“I get that, but just be careful so you’re not inviting more involvement on their part.”

Some guy walked in the front door and I glanced outside, it wasn’t quite dusk, but it would be dark in less than an hour. “I better get a move on, I want to be at Casey’s before it gets too late and have some lights turned on. You want to stop over for some week old chicken wings and beer?”

Louie seemed to ponder my offer for a brief moment then shook his head. “No, it would probably be the better idea to just head home.”

“Of course it would, but since when have you ever done that?”

“True, but I’ll still take a rain check.”

“Suit yourself, man. See you tomorrow.”

Louie nodded then signaled Jimmy for another drink. I went out to my car and headed toward Casey’s. There was a pair of headlights behind me as I drove down Victoria toward the entrance ramp, nothing unusual, I just made a mental note. They followed me onto the interstate which was still okay. I took the next exit, Grand Avenue and they followed. That was a little unusual, but it’s happened before. When I took a left up Ramsey then turned left a block later onto Grand instead of going up Ramsey Hill, it started to feel a little weird. I was on a city street and the headlights were hanging back, but I was pretty sure they were following me.

By now it was too dark to see what type of vehicle it was. My money was on a ‘sinister looking’ black Camaro with a crease in the driver’s side door where I’d jumped against it to bounce the thing off Fat Freddy the other night.

I took another right, drove a block and hooked right again. It had to be Freddy, who else would do such a horseshit job of tailing someone? I drove the rest of the way to Casey’s house with one eye on the rearview mirror. When I turned onto Holly Avenue the headlights behind me kept going straight down Arundel. It looked like a black Camaro in my rearview mirror, but I couldn’t be positive. Maybe Freddy just wanted to see where I was going and then head home. Maybe, but I doubted it.

He was going to do something stupid, I just knew it. I parked across the street from Casey’s, went in the house and turned on a number of lights then ducked out the back door and waited next to a hedge along the side fence. From where I stood I could see the back door and the front yard.

I didn’t have to wait long, Freddy came hobbling down the street about fifteen minutes later. The gauze bandage on his ear was like a headlight in the night. He cut through the next door neighbor’s yard and headed toward the back of the house. I moved toward the back and stepped in close to a large lilac bush. Freddy rattled the side gate then slipped into the back yard. I watched as he peered into a back window then tried to sneak along the side of the house passing no more than ten feet from me. He cautiously crept up the couple of steps to the deck then glanced around. He didn’t seem to be carrying anything, at least not in his hands, so I figured he wasn’t going to do something stupid like toss a bomb through the window. Still, it was a safe bet he was armed.

I let him take a few of steps across the deck before I called out. “That’s far enough, Freddy. Stretch your arms out where I can see them and don’t move. You do anything stupid and I’ll shoot you.”

He stood still and spread his arms out wide. He hung his head like he couldn’t believe he’d already failed at this undertaking, too. I came up on the deck behind him, pushed the barrel of the .38 into the back of his head just so he’d get the message then patted him down.

When I pulled a pistol out of his waistband he let out a frustrated sigh, sounding amazed I’d found it in the most logical place.

“Freddy, just what the hell is it with you? Honest to God, haven’t you had enough? This just doesn’t seem to be working for you.”

“I told you before, I’m doing this for Bulldog.”

“Doing what? So far you’ve been beat up, thrown down a set of stairs. Your nose has been broken, you’re limping and you got that ear thing going for you. How’s it been working up to now?”

“Well, not so good to tell you the truth, you didn’t have to be so rough the other night at Ozzie’s and you could have really hurt me on those steps this afternoon, God, I’m all black and blue and…”

“Freddy, you ever think of taking up a different line of work?”

“You kidding? I’m a criminal and I’m pretty good at it. It’s kind of like we’re in the same business, you know?”

“Not really.”

“Hey, Haskell can I put my arms down, I’m getting kind of tired standing like this and my back is killing me from those damn steps this afternoon.”

“Yeah, sure, Freddy, look, you want a beer? Let’s talk and see if we can’t help each other out.”

Chapter Thirteen

We were sitting at
the kitchen counter halfway through our second round of beers. Once I took the clip out of Freddy’s pistol and checked the chamber for a round, I gave it back to him.

“Yeah, thanks it’s the only one I got left,” he said then glanced at me like that was somehow my fault.

“So what were you doing at Jackie Van Dorn’s today? Are you working for him or bouncing at Nasty’s?”

“I guess Bulldog thought it would be kinda funny to have me be a bouncer at Nasty’s. To tell you the truth, it gets pretty boring. Everyone thinks it sounds really cool, but it isn’t. Most of the girls there are okay, but they aren’t really interested in me. The other bouncers, I think Bulldog told them to give me a hard time, he’s kind of a prick to tell you the truth.”

“No surprise there.”

“Anyway, it doesn’t really start to get busy until a little after five so I’m the only guy bouncing there in the afternoon. Bulldog called my cell this afternoon and yelled at me to get my ass upstairs to Van Dorn’s office. I guess Jackie was the one who called Bulldog and told him you were there.”

“Van Dorn called Bulldog?”

“Yeah, least that’s what I was told. But he must have, ‘cause Bulldog was out making collections at the time so he wasn’t even there.”

“Collections?”

“Yeah, it’s a pretty neat deal. A bunch of places pay Bulldog to kind of watch their business, you know so they don’t get robbed and stuff.”

“A protection racket?”

“I don’t know about that,” Freddy said looking completely oblivious. “He just makes sure no one hassles them, you know.”