Rock & Roll Homicide (29 page)

Chapter 30

Friday morning I joined Jeannine and Delbert in the waiting room and said, “Delbert, I have your final paycheck. As I said when I hired you, the job was just for the duration of the case, which is now officially closed. With your help it was a success.” I handed him an envelope. “I added an extra two weeks pay as our way of saying thank you for a job well done.”

The information about the severance package didn’t seem to register. Instead his eyes focused on the box I had carried into the room, wrapped in red paper with a blue ribbon and bow. “What’s that?” he asked.

“This is a little something extra that I got for you,” I said as I handed him the box.

Delbert removed the wrapping paper with one mighty swoop of his beefy hand, “Oh my God, what is it?” he asked even though the contents were clearly marked on the cardboard box within. Using two hands he ripped open the box and his eyes lit up when he saw that it contained 24 packages of Double-Stuff Oreo cookies. “Cool. I never saw this many Oreos in one place; not even in the grocery stores. Let’s eat some,” he said as he ripped one of the packages open.

“It’s only 9:30 Delbert. Don’t you think it’s a little early for cookies?” I asked.

“Isn’t this like a going-away party?” he asked.

“Of course it is,” said Jeannine. “May I have a cookie?”

Delbert stuck his mitt into the package and came out with about six cookies. When I saw that his hands hadn’t been washed I picked up the package and offered it to Jeannine. She carefully selected one cookie as Delbert shoved half of what was in his hand into his mouth. “OK, I’ll join you,” I said.

“I have a present for you, too,” Jeannine said.

“Really,” he replied, spraying cookie fragments as he turned his head toward her.

Jeannine reached under her desk and removed a box wrapped in paper that said, “We’ll miss you,” all over it. Delbert put his cookies down for a moment and removed the paper deftly. He opened the box and his jaw dropped. Not a pretty sight. With eyes full of wonder he removed a Superman long sleeve T-shirt. “This is awesome! Look at this!” he exclaimed as he pointed to the red cape on the back of the shirt that hung down with another foot of material below the front and sides. Delbert pulled it on over his uniform shirt and immediately made muscles with his arms.

“I have a great idea,” I said. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off and wear the shirt over to the Center to show everybody.”

“You’re a really cool boss,” he said, grabbed his case of Oreos and headed for the door.

“Don’t forget your paycheck,” I said sticking the envelope in his hand.

He tossed it into his box of cookies and said, “I won’t forget it in there.” In a moment he was out the door with a smile and a lot of double-stuff on his face.

At 11:30 AM I met Shamansky at Metro headquarters to look at a couple of line-ups. Two of the Russian paratroopers survived gunshot wounds and were now deemed healthy enough to be identified. The police wanted me to see if either of the survivors was involved in the shooting of Vladimir Torhan. I was hoping to see one of the guys from the Dali Lama the night I played with Doberman’s Stub, but it was not to be. I did manage to identify all four of them when I was shown photos of the deceased. “Can I get a copy. I know a police lieutenant in Odessa who will sleep a lot better once he knows these guys are on their way to hell.”

“You got it,” Shamansky said. When we got to the copy machine he said, “Your mother invited me to dinner tomorrow night.”

“I know,” I replied. “They want to celebrate me and Dennis Kerrigan not screwing things up.”

“I’m not going to be the token non-Irishman am I?” he asked.

“Absolutely not,” I replied, “unless you bring an Irish girl as a date. But I wouldn’t recommend it. I’m trying to reverse the adverse effects of social inbreeding.”

“Then count me in,” he said as he handed me my prints.

“Was my dad any help during the interrogations?” I asked

“Actually, he was a big help. We weren’t getting anywhere with either of the hooligans. It was apparent they were going to stonewall us until Nigel showed up with the legal team. Then, toward the end of the day I was taking a last shot at Billingsly when Jim came into the interrogation room and said he was the warden from the city jail. He said he had family in Belfast who were blown up by Orangemen and he had a special cellmate for Billingsly, and wanted to take him right away, before any lawyers showed up.”

“What did Billingsly say?” I asked.

“He got really nervous and asked who the cellmate would be. Your dad told him it was a Catholic from Portadown whose daughter lost an arm in an explosion during the Orangeman parade last year. He said the prisoner was 6’4” and 250 pounds of pure muscle. I guess your dad did his homework on the bombing because it was clear Billingsly knew all about it and went into a panic. From the way he reacted I’d guess Billingsly was in on the blast and was sure the Irishman was about to tear him apart. He gave a full confession in about 15 minutes. I was truly impressed,” Shamansky said.

I got back to the office at about 2:30 PM and found Jeannine talking with Ivana. A burly looking bodyguard-type accompanied her and sat on the waiting room couch with a blank stare. “Ivana, this is a pleasant surprise,” I said.

“I wanted to say goodbye,” she said. “I’m going to be living with my uncle and his family in Dana Point. I also came to thank you, Jason.”

“You thanked me at your house,” I said.

“Uncle Peter had his lawyer contact Mrs. Tucker. He said he was expecting her to file suit, but she told him that you spoke with her about me and she isn’t going to take me to court. I’m sure this will make it a lot easier fitting in with my new family,” she said.

“What are you going to do with Cerise Records?” I asked.

She replied, “Mr. Tyler has taken over, but he’s in the process of selling. He’s giving the surviving members of Doberman’s Stub a great deal on the third CD, then releasing them from their contract.”

“That seems very generous,” I observed.

“I think everybody is trying to avoid giving all of the money to the lawyers,” Ivana replied.

“That certainly sounds like the best way to go for all concerned,” I said.

“Are you going to miss living in a castle?” asked Jeannine.

“Not at all,” she replied. “I have to get going, but I brought along a couple of going-away presents.” She reached into her large purse and handed Jeannine a snow globe of the Kremlin. “Here’s a nice replica of the best-known castle in all of Russia.”

Jeannine held it on her fingertips and looked delighted. “This is beautiful,” she said.

Ivana then handed me a CD in a special case. She had hand-painted a cover that said,
Doberman’s Stub Live at
the Dali Lama Yo Mama
. “The sound man, Mr. Martin, recorded the show. I thought you’d like to have a copy of it,” she said.

“I love the art work. How does it sound?” I asked.

“You sound terrific, but, I was told to warn you that it can’t end up on the Internet, OK?” she asked.

“It will go no further that my living room and the sound system in my car,” I said. “Thank you so much for doing this.”

Ivana beamed at my reaction, then gave us hugs and departed.

An hour later I got a call from Jack Pascal who asked if he and Ian could meet me at my office tomorrow at 10:00 AM. I agreed.

Chapter 31

At precisely 10:00 on Saturday morning Ian walked into my office, followed by Jack, Michael and Jeannine. “You’re up awfully early,” I said to Ian.

“I’m being told it’s the first day of the rest of me life,” he said.

Jack added, “He’s checking into the Betty Ford Center at noon.”

I shook Ian’s hand and said, “Good for you. It looks like perfect timing for a new beginning.”

“I figure if it worked for Aerosmith, I can make it work for me,” he said.

Michael added, “And, he’s going to be busy breaking in a couple of new band mates soon.”

“That’s one of the reasons we asked to meet with you this morning,” Jack said. “We think Nigel had the right idea when he talked about hiring you to investigate potential band members as well as new management. We value your opinion tremendously and have narrowed the choices for Terry’s replacement to three people. We want to have the new member signed by the time Ian gets discharged. Can you help us out?”

I asked, “What about the new manager. Are you going with Nigel’s choice?”

Ian said, “He has a good reputation, but he sounds like a fast-talking salesman to us. We also need a concert promoter to book the tour for the new CD.”

Jack said, “We actually need your services for a while. We want profiles on the prospective band member, promoter, manager and record companies. What do you say?”

A smile crept across my face. “I think it sounds terrific. I may be able to help you with the concert promoter right away.”

Michael said, “I told them you’d be recommending Calvin Dawson and they were stoked.”

“Calvin’s a friend of yours?” asked Jack.

“We go way back. I have the highest regard for him as a promoter and as a person,” I said.

Jack replied, “I’m sure it will help Ian get through rehab knowing we’ll have a top-notch promoter working on getting the tour together while he’s working on getting his head together.”

“Affirmative,” Ian said enthusiastically.

Jeannine had been quietly sitting at her desk playing with the snow globe Ivana had given her. For a moment she came out of her own little world and asked, “Have you thought of a name for the new CD?”

Ian replied, “We’re thinking of calling it,
The Metal
Musings of Cain and Abel
, but we want to make sure Chelsea Tucker doesn’t object. Can you check on that for us, Jason?”

“No problem. By the way, do either of you guys recognize the guitar on my wall?” I asked Ian and Jack.

“If I don’t miss my guess, that’s the guitar Terry used to write his songs,” Jack said. “I’ve got some great stories about that guitar, but they’ll have to wait. We can’t keep Betty waiting.” In a minute they were gone.

On the drive to my parent’s house I asked Kelly, “Would you like to hear the hottest CD never to hit the airwaves?”

“This sounds interesting,” she replied.

I popped in the CD Ivana had given me. After the first song I asked, “What do you think?”

“I think with a new singer and a better lead guitarist they could be the next Doberman’s Stub,” she said with a grin.

When we reached the house, the Kerrigan’s had already arrived. Introductions were made, hors d’ oeuvres were passed and Dad delighted in his role as bartender. Bob Kerrigan brought along the citation his son had received. Dad insisted that Dennis recount what had happened at the scene.

When he finished, Bob lifted his beer and said, “To another generation of Irishmen helping their own.” Mom, Dad and Kelly immediately looked at me to see how I would react.

Before I could throw a wet blanket on the festivities the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” I said avoiding the toast issue for the moment.

I knew it would be Walter Shamansky. The question was whether Walter could talk the aspiring actress from Larabee’s into accompanying him this evening. I had kept Kelly apprised of Shamansky’s wishful thinking infatuation since the first time we had lunch. I could see her jockey for position to get a look as they walked in the door.

To my amazement, Shamansky had brought along Svetlana Illich. For the first time I saw her in chic, modern cloths, make-up and an attractive new hairstyle. “Surprised?” she asked me as she walked in the door, then kept walking before I could answer. Some things never change.

Shamansky was reading my expression and loving every minute of it. As he shook my hand he asked, “How’s that for cultural diversity.”

About The Author

  
RJ McDonnell
is the son of a Pennsylvania State Police Detective. His father received several citations and decorations over the years for solving complex and high-profile crimes. One of his cases was featured in "True Detective" magazine. Another was the subject of "A Justice Story," the centerfold of the Sunday New York Post for many years. In addition to a traditional education, RJ also had the benefit of seeing every police detective drama on television and in the movies. His father would frequently critique these stories for believability of characters and police procedures.

But instead of becoming the third generation of McDonnell’s to enter the police force, RJ found that his talents lie elsewhere. In high school, he was fortunate to have an exceptional English teacher, Donald Walton, who exposed him to an exciting cross-section of American literature and sparked his interest in the Mystery genre.

He earned a Bachelor’s Degree at Penn State University and a Masters at Marywood University. During his college years RJ was a rhythm guitarist and vocalist in two bands. Shortly thereafter, he moved to San Diego where he went to work for a professional writing service. In addition, he wrote a monthly column for the Military Press, and another for a San Diego publication, providing advice to job seekers.

In the 90s, RJ discovered he had a knack for comedy writing. He wrote for a local San Diego cable television show that had a Saturday Night Live-type format. Over its two seasons on the air, 34 of his skits were produced. 

While he continued to work as a professional nonfiction writer, his creative juices were now flowing. After college, RJ's interest in crime stories transitioned from television and movies into novels. He discovered that the lack of detail and intricacies that his father complained about were abundant in the novel format. 

"Rock & Roll Homicide" was the first novel in a series featuring private investigator, Jason Duffy. A national news story about how the book was selling well to both traditional mystery readers and 18- to 35-year-old non-readers generated a lot of interest from parents who wanted to pass their passion for reading on to their adult children.

The second novel, "Rock & Roll Rip-Off," was released in the spring of 2010 and selected "Novel of the Year" in the Mystery/Thriller category by Premier Book Awards. RJ launched a library tour shortly thereafter, geared toward helping parents of non-readers who enjoy rock music.

RJ is currently writing the third novel in the Rock & Roll Mystery Series, which will be released in the spring of 2011.

You can visit RJ at:  

www.rjmcdonnell.com

[email protected]