It Was a Very Bad Year (23 page)

‘OK.'

We split up and I went looking for Entratter. I found him watching two middle-aged women playing blackjack at a high stakes table.

‘They're cleanin' up, and I can't figure out how,' he said.

‘Maybe they're lucky.'

‘Gotta be more than luck.'

‘You wanted to see me,' I reminded him.

‘You didn't come see me when you got back.'

‘I figured Mickey would tell you what happened.'

‘Mickey doesn't know what happened,' he said. ‘He thinks he got you out just by bein' there.'

‘You don't think he did?'

‘Mickey's a good guy, but he gets a little puffed up about himself,' Entratter said. ‘He ain't no criminal attorney.'

‘No, he's not.'

‘So what happened?'

‘You wanna get a drink?'

‘No,' Entratter said, ‘I'm watchin' these two broads. Tell me here.'

‘Hargrove and I came to an understanding.'

‘How the hell did that happen?'

‘He still thinks Barney Irwin had a hand in the kidnappin', and if he catches him, he cashes in on some of the glory.'

‘And you let him think that?'

‘Why not? What can it hurt? I'm thinkin' Irwin had somethin' to do with his man Wayne's murder. So I help Hargrove catch him, he charges him with the killin' and the kidnappin'. Where's the harm?'

‘And how are you gonna find him?'

‘I'm already workin' on it.'

‘I suppose you're usin' your pals Jerry and Bardini?' he asked.

‘Among others.'

Suddenly, Jack's face changed. He looked away from the two women and directly at me for the first time. Then he put his big hand on my shoulder and squeezed.

‘You know, you really came through on this kidnappin' thing,' he said. ‘Maybe it's time to think about givin' you a promotion.'

‘To what?' I asked. ‘I'm pretty happy with my job, Jack.' I was hoping he wasn't thinking about putting me in a position of more authority. I was pretty pleased with the amount of freedom my job gave me.

‘Well,' he said, dropping his hand from my shoulder, ‘it's just somethin' we can talk about later.'

‘Sure,' I said, ‘later.'

He turned his attention back to the women. I watched for a few moments, and of the five players at the table, they seemed to be the only ones who were winning consistently.

‘I don't get it,' he said, shaking his head. ‘But I will.'

As I walked away from Entratter I saw Jerry coming toward me. He'd changed his shirt and jacket, looked very casual with no tie.

‘Hey, Mr G. What'd Mr Entratter want?'

‘Just to be filled in. Apparently lawyer Rudin let Jack think he rescued me from the big bad police.'

‘Mr Rudin ain't no criminal guy.'

‘No, he's not,' I said, ‘but if he wants to think he got me out, let 'im. I don't care. All I know is we have a small window that's closing by the minute.'

We'd spent most of the day driving around, hitting my contacts. We had about thirty-eight hours left.

‘So now we just wait?'

‘There's got to be more that we can do than wait,' I said.

‘Like what?'

‘Give me a minute.'

I figured we could go back to Irwin's studio and house and search again, but we'd been pretty thorough the last time.

‘Irwin owns his house,' I said, ‘but he doesn't own the studio. He rents it.'

‘So?'

‘So maybe we should talk to the landlord. Maybe even some of his neighbors. The stores on either side of him.'

‘And ask 'em what?'

‘I don't know,' I said. ‘I'm wingin' it, Jerry. I just don't want to sit here and wait.'

‘OK, then let's go.'

O
n the right of Irwin Studios was a T-shirt and gift shop. The grey-haired older lady behind the counter said, ‘I just work here,' to everything we asked, and Jerry's size did nothing to intimidate her. Apparently, she'd seen enough in her life to know when to keep her mouth shut.

On the left side was a store that sold and fixed watches. The old guy behind the counter regarded us over the rims of thick glasses that had even thicker lenses, so he could do all the delicate work that was necessary with watches.

‘Ain't seen Barney for a while,' he said to us. ‘His place has been closed.'

‘We know that,' I said. ‘We were just wonderin' who the landlord was for this strip of stores, if it's even the same person.'

‘It is,' the man said. ‘Same landlord for this place, Irwin's, the T-shirt store and the one after that, the hardware store.'

‘And who would that be?' I asked.

The grey-haired man looked at Jerry, who wasn't paying any attention to him. He was busy looking around at all the time pieces and clocks. There was a cuckoo clock on the wall that really seemed to attract his attention.

‘That's a Black Forest Cuckoo,' he said to Jerry.

‘Black Forest?'

‘That's the area of Germany the wood comes from,' the man said. ‘The Black Forest. That one was made by Hubert Herr in the nineteenth century.'

‘Sir?' I said.

The man looked at me.

‘The landlord?'

He took his glasses off, rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, then stared at me from beneath bushy grey eyebrows. ‘That'd be me.'

‘You're the landlord?'

‘That's right. Been here thirty years.'

‘My name is Eddie Gianelli,' I said. ‘This is Jerry.'

‘The name's Morheim,' the man said, ‘Angus Morheim.'

‘Mr Morheim, we're tryin' to find Barney Irwin.'

‘You friends of his?'

His face was blank, revealing nothing about his feelings for Barney. But how many landlords really like their tenants?

I took a shot.

‘Hell, no,' I said. ‘Can't stand the guy.'

Now he made a face and said, ‘That putz owes me two months rent. And when he leaves I'm gonna have to fumigate the place.'

‘Is he leavin'?' I asked.

‘He is if I don't get my rent.'

‘Do you know where he lives?' I asked.

‘I do, but he ain't been there either, for a while.'

‘Would you know if he owns any other property? Or has a girlfriend he might be stayin' with?'

Morheim looked up at Jerry, who was still looking around at the merchandise.

‘You gonna bust his head?' he asked.

‘We might,' I said. ‘That sorta depends on . . . a lot of things.'

‘He ain't got a girlfriend I know of,' he said. ‘Always chasin' skirts, though. Nice girl wouldn't have nothin' to do with him.'

‘I see.'

‘His friends ain't worth shit.'

‘Do you know any of them?'

‘No, but he hangs out at that bar around the corner.'

‘Clipper's?'

‘That's the one,' Morheim said. ‘Buncha useless bastards in there.'

‘Yeah, we've been there,' I said.

‘That's it,' Morheim said. ‘I don't know anywheres else he might be.'

‘Well . . . OK,' I said. ‘Thank you for talkin' to us.'

‘When's it come out?' Jerry asked, suddenly.

‘What?' Morheim asked.

Jerry pointed to the clock and asked, ‘When's the bird come out?'

‘On the hour,' Morheim said.

Still a half hour to go. I was hoping Jerry didn't want to stay and watch.

We started for the door and Morheim said, ‘Wait a minute.'

‘Yes?' I said, turning hopefully.

‘Irwin's got a storage unit.'

And who says there's no hope?

‘He does?'

‘Yeah,' Morheim said, ‘I know it because I got a unit in the same building. I seen him there a few times.'

‘And where is that building?'

‘Around the corner, down the street from the bar.'

‘You wouldn't happen to know the unit number, would you?' I asked.

Morheim chose that moment to put his glasses back on. He looked down at the watch he'd had in his hand the whole time.

‘Happens I do,' he said. ‘Unit two twenty on the second floor.'

‘Mr Morheim,' I said, ‘thanks very much.'

‘Do me a favor,' he said.

‘What's that?'

‘When you see that
Schweinhund
,' Morheim said, ‘bust him one for me.'

‘You got it, Mr Morheim,' Jerry said.

The old man looked up at Jerry and said, ‘And you come back, I'll show you the clock.'

‘I will,' Jerry said. ‘Thanks.'

We stepped outside, letting the door close behind us.

‘How do you do that?' I asked.

‘What?'

‘Get people to like you.'

‘I'm a likeable guy, Mr G.,' he said. ‘That's what makes me good at my job.'

‘Hmm,' I said. ‘Let's go check out that storage unit.'

W
e had parked around the corner, so we were able to walk to the storage facility, which was on the corner of the same block where Clipper's was. We walked past the bar while keeping to the other side of the street, then crossed over.

HI-POINT STORAGE the sign over the door said. I didn't know what it meant, but it didn't matter. You had to name your business something, right?

‘We're gonna need your lock-picking skills again,' I said.

‘Depends on the kind it is,' Jerry said. ‘Places like this, people use all kinds of locks. If it's a combination lock we're fucked.'

‘Well, let's find out.'

‘How do we get up there?' Jerry asked.

‘That'll be the easy part,' I said. ‘You and me, we're lookin' for a unit that isn't on the first floor, but not too high up.'

‘Like somethin' on the second floor?' Jerry asked.

‘Exactly.'

We went inside.

Storage units were a new idea in the sixties. That meant they were built into existing buildings, not places specially designed for them. Those days were a long time coming.

This structure looked like it used to be an apartment building. The floors had been sectioned off into units of varying sizes and shapes. We went up the front stairs and through the double front doors.

The young man at the front desk gave us the whole sales pitch about how helpful it is to have a storage unit, how small businesses were able to increase their invoice, and not their overhead. We let him wind down and then told him we needed a unit off the main floor, but not too high up.

‘Worried about fire?' he asked. ‘We got sprinkler units on each floor, and plenty of fire escapes.'

‘Still . . .' I said.

‘Well, all right, then. We've got some available on the second floor,' he said. ‘What size do you think you'll need?'

‘What've you got?'

‘Well, we've got some five by eights, some eight by tens, some ten by fifteens—'

‘Why don't we start with an eight by ten?' I suggested.

‘Fine. Do you need a lock? We have combination locks, or just key locks—'

‘A lock and key will be good.'

I had to sign a one year contract and then he handed me a lock and key and said, ‘If you'll wait a few minutes I can take you up, or you can just go on up yourself and have a look.'

‘My partner and I will be OK on our own. We'll come back later with some stuff to store.'

‘OK,' he said. ‘Welcome to Hi-Point. Your unit is number two fifty-one.'

‘Thanks.'

251 shouldn't be too far from 220, I thought. This was going well.

We took the elevator up one floor, got off and found 251 first, then walked down to 220. Irwin's unit was apparently one of the smaller five by eights. As we reached it we saw that things had suddenly stopped being easy.

‘Damn!' I said.

We looked at each other, then at the door that had a combination lock.

‘Look on the bright side, Mr G.,' Jerry said.

‘What's that?'

‘The lock is still there,' Jerry said. ‘Maybe that means his stuff is still in there. Maybe he'll be back for it.'

‘Well, we've got – what, thirty-five hours?' I said. ‘I guess we could wait for him here, but then he might not show.'

‘So? We can get in there.'

‘How do we do that?'

‘At night,' Jerry said.

‘This place closes at five p.m.'

‘Maybe I can't pick that lock,' he said, indicating the combo lock on the door, ‘but did you notice the locks on this building? Easy.'

‘OK, so we get into the building,' I said. ‘How do we get into this unit?'

‘The old-fashioned way,' he said.

W
e went back to the Sands briefly, to check if I'd gotten any calls. There were none.

‘You put out so many feelers,' Jerry said, ‘you'd think somebody woulda called by now.'

‘Yeah,' I agreed. ‘You'd think.'

We each changed into dark clothes, then drove to pick up some things Jerry said he'd need. After that we went back to the Hi-Point building and worked our way around to the back.

There was a collection of dumpsters, all full of garbage, lined up in the alley. The smell out there was something between rotten meat and piss.

Jerry whipped out his pen light and I held it for him while he worked the lock. He had also brought a small gym bag, which he laid near his feet.

‘They think puttin' a metal door up is gonna keep people out,' he said, while he worked, ‘but they forget that a lock is a lock.'

He continued to work while I looked up and down the alley, trying to hold the light still.

‘Got it,' he finally said, and we were inside.

We found a back stairway and took it to the second floor. By the beam of his pen light we found the door of unit 220. He handed me the light again, put his bag down and took out a hammer.