Authors: Nathan Gottlieb
Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Hard-Boiled, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Crime Fiction
“Billy, I’ve got a call coming in from my wife. I’ll get back to you.”
Cullen was passing by Hannah’s closed door in the morning when he heard her talking to someone. Putting his ear to the door, he heard her say “Rashid” a few times, so he figured she was on the phone setting up a meeting with the snitch. It sounded like it was for early afternoon at the same spot in the IKEA parking lot.
As soon as he heard her hang up, he hustled away from the door, picked up his gym bag, and waited in the living room for Bellucci to finish taking a leak.
Hannah had barely said a word to them since she’d moved in, and she only ventured out of her room to prepare her meals, which she ate back in her room.
As the two boxers were jogging toward the gym, Bellucci said, “Man, she’s some piece of work.”
“Worse than McAlary.”
Bellucci laughed. “Yeah. At least with Coach, he occasionally listens to what you have to say.”
“In my case,
very
occasionally.”
“Maybe we should get her flowers,” Bellucci said, “And take her out to dinner.”
“Wouldn’t help, Mikey. She’s exactly like you when she’s mad. You’re both unapproachable until you cool down. And, besides, she wouldn’t eat with us.”
“I am not
unapproachable….” He smiled. “Well, maybe just a little bit.”
Arriving at the stairs to the gym, Bellucci said, “Let me go in first. Wait five minutes, then come
inside. I don’t want to be within twenty feet of you when McAlary sees your bandaged hands.”
“Coward.”
Bellucci took the stairs rapidly and disappeared inside. Cullen gladly waited the five minutes. He wasn’t looking forward to the reception he expected to get from his trainer.
Then he had an idea.
As soon as he entered the gym, he thrust his hands into his pants pockets and ducked into the locker room. Even though he wasn’t cleared yet for sparring or heavy bag work, he wrapped his hands to hide the bandages before he walked out.
Spotting Cullen, McAlary walked over and pointed at his hands.
“What’s with the wraps?” the trainer asked.
“I was hoping I could do some light work on the heavy bag. The shoulder feels really good.”
“Did you wrap them good?”
“Yes.”
“Let me see.”
The second McAlary grabbed
Cullen’s right hand, Cullen winced.
“What’s wrong with your hand?” the trainer asked.
“Nothing, Coach.”
“Then why’d you make a face when I grabbed it?”
Cullen said nothing. His little ruse was about to blow up in his face. Still holding the hand, McAlary applied more pressure to it.
“Ow!” Cullen yanked his hand away.
The trainer frowned. “Let me see the other hand.”
“I’m fine, Ryan.”
“Don’t you be feeding me that blarney. What’d you do to your hands?”
No sense trying to hide it now
, he thought. “Well, you see, Ryan…I…uh…I sorta got into a fight.” Then added quickly, “But I had a doctor examine both hands. He said they’re okay.”
The trainer pointed to an empty bench nearby. “Sit your ass down!”
As soon as they were both straddling the bench, McAlary started taking off Cullen’s wraps. When the boxer’s bandaged hands were exposed, the trainer’s face reddened. He pulled Dr. Riley’s bandage half off of one hand to inspect the damage, then glared at Cullen.
“Did you get X-rays?”
“Yes.”
McAlary studied his eyes. “You’re lying.”
Cullen let out a sigh. “The doctor suggested I get X-rays as a precaution.”
“Advice you ignored.”
All Cullen could do was nod.
McAlary rewrapped the bandage before saying, “If your hands don’t get better in two days using ice and Advil, you’re going for X-rays.”
Even though he hadn’t raised his voice, every other boxer in the room knew something was wrong. They all stopped working out to stare at McAlary and Cullen. The sudden lack of sound in the gym made McAlary turn to the other boxers.
“Get back to work! Mind your own business!”
As the fighters resumed their drills, the trainer returned his attention to Cullen. “Lemme hear about this fight you had.”
Cullen didn’t bother to sugarcoat it. When he was done, McAlary’s face was about as red as he had ever seen it.
“Outside!” the trainer ordered.
At the top of the landing, McAlary said, nearly shouting, “What the hell’s it going to take for you to end this romance with Boff! When you get seriously hurt and can’t fight anymore?”
“I took care of those guys with no problem.”
“No problem?
No problem?
For chrissake, Danny, these bruised hands will set you back a week or more. And why the hell didn’t you tell me you were working with him again?”
The boxer shrugged. “I guess I was afraid to.”
McAlary let out a frustrated sigh. “So what’s this damn case about? Another murder?”
Cullen laid it out for him. When he was done, the trainer exploded.
“Chasing down a cop killer? Dammit, Danny! I helped make you a champion. HBO budgeted one million for your first title defense. This is just the beginning. You’re on track to becoming a wealthy boxing star. Why the hell would you want to jeopardize all that?”
“Ryan….”
“At least with Julio and the other two cases you worked on with Boff, you had a personal stake in finding the killers. I don’t see anything like that here. Explain this to me.”
“I…I can’t.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because I don’t know why.”
“That’s bullshit! What’s the reason?”
Cullen thought about how to phrase it, then finally said, “Well, you know how they say once a lion kills a human being, they get a taste for it? I…I guess the same holds for me in catching killers.”
“That’s your friggin’ explanation? Comparing yourself to a bloody friggin’ lion?” McAlary threw his hands up. “As God is my witness, in all my years in boxing, I’ve never encountered anything like this.” He jabbed his boxer’s chest. “No other trainer in the world would put up with your antics. I must be some kind of idiot to keep working with you.”
Sensing that the worst was over, Cullen said nothing while he waited for his trainer to cool down.
It took more than a minute, but McAlary finally said, “Well, if you get killed, don’t expect me to come to your damn funeral.”
Cullen half smiled. “That’s fair.”
“Don’t get cute with me,” McAlary fired back. “If you think I’ve worked you hard in the past, think again. As soon as your shoulder’s fully healed, I’m going to pound your arse so hard you won’t have an ounce of energy left to run around with that wanker Boff. Now get back in the gym. I want you to hit the treadmill until you drop!”
When Rashid arrived at the IKEA parking lot and saw Boff sitting with Hannah and Cullen on the grass by the river, he walked up to her and frowned.
“Hannah, who’s this guy?”
“He’s a private investigator.” She turned to Boff. “Pay Rashid now. And throw in a little extra.”
Boff extracted a Benjamin from his wallet. Seeing it, the snitch smiled, grabbed the bill, stuffed it in his pocket, and said, “Okay, Mr. Private Investigator, now you’re cool with me.” He sat down on the grass with them. Then he noticed Hannah’s stitched face and Cullen’s bandaged hands.
“You two been fighting?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Hannah replied, “but not with each other. Your
buddy,
Derrick, set us up. Two thugs attacked us with knives.”
“That muthafucka!” Rashid exploded. “He ain’t
no muthafuckin’ buddy of mine! I’m gonna whup his ass!”
“Rashid,” Boff said, “I know how you feel, but let us handle Derrick. Do you have his home address? All he told us was he lives in Bensonhurst across the street from a dealer.”
Rashid shook his head. “That’s whack! Derrick, he don’t have him no place of his own. Dickhead can’t afford rent on account everything he makes he shoots up his arm.”
“He’s homeless?” the redhead asked.
“Not exactly. He’s got him, like, this junkie girlfriend wit’ a crib in Bensonhurst. He stays with her.”
“Do you have the girlfriend’s address?” Boff asked.
“No, but I can get it for you. That skank girlfriend of his is friends with a sweetie I know.” He took out his phone and punched in a number.
“Yo, Belinda, this is Rashid … Yeah, baby, I’m doin’ fine. Listen, I need a favor. You know that chick Daphne? … Well, I need her home address. You still got one
of her stupid business cards? Yeah, I’ll wait …” The snitch turned to Hannah. “She’s gittin’ the address now.”
Boff took out a pad and pen. “Rashid, repeat what she says so I can jot it down.”
When Daphne came back online, Rashid dictated to Boff what she told him. “Yo, Belinda, drop around some time, girl. Rashid will show you a real good time.”
After hanging up, the snitch looked at Boff and shook his head. “Daphne’s so-called business card says she’s a professional actress. Only films that dumb bitch been in is porn.” He stood up. So did the others. “Tell me, Mr. P.I., whatcha gonna do to Derrick? I hope you break a lotta bones.”
“I’m not a violent man. All I want to do is to have a little heart-to-heart talk with him.”
Daphne lived on a street gentrification had not yet found. The buildings looked as decrepit as the one the slumlord had been working on. The sidewalks were cracked, and along the block were several abandoned cars missing body parts and tires.
Stopping in front of a six-story tenement, Boff checked his notes. “This is it,” he said. “Let’s go in and introduce ourselves.”
After climbing the front steps, Boff opened the unlocked outer door and pressed the buzzer for 5-B. He waited a couple minutes to be buzzed in through the inner door. When nothing happened, he pushed it again. Same result.
“In a crappy building like this,” he said, “it wouldn’t surprise me if the buzzer isn’t working.”
“Or maybe they’re not home,” Hannah said.
Cullen tapped Boff’s arm. “You want me to climb the fire escape and look in their window?”
Boff shook his head. “Before you start playing Spider Man, let me try the buzzer again.”
This time he held his finger on it for fifteen seconds without any response.
Cullen said, “Why don’t you just pick the lock?”
Before Boff could reply, Hannah brushed by him, grabbed the door knob, and twisted it. It opened. Looking back at Boff with a smirk, she led the way into the building. They found apartment 5
-B on the second floor. Boff knocked hard on the door. Nobody answered. They waited another minute. He put his ear to the door and heard rap music playing.
Hannah tried the door knob. This one was locked.
“Now what?” she asked.
“Stand back,” Boff replied, “and watch the master go to work. It looks like a simple pin-and-tumbler.”
Reaching into his pocket, he took out a soft leather case about the size used to hold eyeglasses. He opened the flap and slid out a long, thin piece of metal curved up at the end like a dentist’s pick. After inserting it into the key hole, he fiddled with the lock for a few seconds, then opened the door.
“Let’s go in and introduce ourselves,” he said as he put his lock pick away.
In the living room, they saw a rap video playing on the TV, but nobody was watching it.
“Let’s look around,” Boff said.
Before he could move, Cullen grabbed his arm. “Do you think that’s wise? I mean, what if they’ve got a gun?”
“If they do,” Boff replied, “and they’re serious junkies, like Rashid said, chances are they’re so stoned neither one could shoot straight.” He looked at the hallway. “But just in case they aren’t, let me check the place out alone. You two wait here.”
Heading down the hallway, he stopped at a wide open door and peeked inside, then turned back to Cullen and Hannah and waved them over. “It’s okay now,” he said.
When Cullen and the redhead reached the door, they saw Derrick and Daphne lying on a filthy, unmade bed. Neither of them would be answering any questions today. Both had needles sticking out of their arms
and weren’t moving.
“Looks like they OD’d,” Cullen said.
Boff nodded. “And I’ve got a hunch they had some help doing it.”
“What do you mean?” Hannah asked.
Stepping into the room, Boff walked over to a nightstand next to the bed that had its top drawer pulled out. Cullen and the redhead came over to look. Inside the drawer lay a gun.
“Here’s what went down,” Boff said. “Two, maybe three guys broke into the apartment. With the music playing loud on the TV, they could’ve easily slipped in without being heard. Then they came down the hallway. The snitch and his girlfriend were probably sitting in bed shooting up. When Derrick saw the intruders, he yanked open this drawer, but before he could grab the gun, the guys pounced on them, tied them up, and then shot them full of enough H to send them to heroin heaven.”
“How do you know they were tied up?” Hannah asked.
Boff pointed at Derrick’s wrist. “See these marks? Rope. Same marks on the girl’s wrists. It’s time for us to leave.”
On the drive back to
Crown Heights, Cullen said, “I guess Galvani’s eliminating loose ends.”
Boff nodded. “It would seem that way,” he said. “Since we’re a bit stalled on the case at this point, I think it’s time for me to shake Galvani’s tree.”
Hannah looked puzzled. “Shake his tree? What does that mean?”
“It means I’m going to confront him with some facts he won’t like.”
“Why?”
“To rattle him. In a rattled state of mind, he’s more likely to make a mistake.”
“Or try to kill you,” Cullen said.
Boff nodded. “True. After I have a talk with him, I guess I’ll have to start wearing that infernal Kevlar again.”
“Are you going to have Wallachi supply you with bodyguards? Like the last time?”
“Not just yet, Danny. If things heat up, then, yeah, I will.”
“You know, Boff,” the boxer said, “I seem to recall after we caught Julio’s murderers you told me risking your life was the stupidest thing you’d ever done and you would never do it again.”
Boff said nothing.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe you said the same thing after our second case, when you were shot at.”
Boff stayed silent.
“And the third case?” Cullen said. “Where you were nearly killed
three times
? You said it again. So…I’m wondering. Do you have a death wish? Or are you just developing a heroic streak late in your morally-challenged life?”
Instead of replying, Boff took a Little Richard disk out of his leather CD holder, inserted it, and turned up the volume. Cullen immediately turned it down. “If you’re going to confront that crooked cop Galvani,” he said, “why don’t you bring me along to protect you?”
“You have to keep an eye on Hannah.”
Hannah shot forward from the back seat. “I don’t need a damn babysitter!”
“Yes you do,” Boff replied. “If it weren’t for Danny, who knows how badly those guys would’ve cut you. Stop complaining and do what your Uncle Mike said.”
After Boff dropped them off, he drove to the 71
st
Precinct and waited in his car across the street. It was three-thirty.
Forty minutes later, Galvani left the precinct with the same Hispanic detective he’d been with before. They talked for awhile on the top of the steps before walking down. That’s when Boff stepped out of his car and crossed the street.
“What the hell do
you
want?” Galvani asked.
“Well, detective, I thought it was time you and I had a heart-to-heart talk.”
The Hispanic tapped his partner’s arm. “Eddie, who’s this guy?”
“Just a nuisance, Jorge. Nothing I can’t handle. You can take off.”
“You sure, partner?”
“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”
As he passed Boff, Jorge purposely bumped him hard in the shoulder, then walked over to his car, leaned against the passenger door, and watched his partner and the nuisance.
“Boff, I got nothing to say to you.” Galvani headed for his car.
Boff followed. As the cop opened his door, Boff said, “I have reason to believe you had a role in the deaths of Maloney and Doyle.”
At this, the detective slammed the door shut. “Say what?”
“You’re dirty, Galvani, and I’m going to prove it.”
The cop shoved Boff in the chest. “Listen to me, pal, and listen
good,” he hissed. “You’re barking up the wrong tree. I’m clean. The guys who murdered Patrick and Doyle are still out there somewhere. Do you understand?”
“Not really. But if it makes you feel better saying it, knock yourself out.”
Galvani looked like he was close to losing it. He stepped closer. “If I see your ugly fucking face again,
pal
, I’m going to arrest you.”
At this, Boff grinned. “Really, detective? On what charge?”
“Stalking a police officer.”
Still smiling, Boff said, “Well,
pal
, you’d have to get a restraining order first,
and
explain to the judge why you need it. Something I doubt you’d want to do.”
Galvani looked angry enough to slug him, but instead he took a cigarette pack out of his pocket, lit one up,
then said in the calmest voice he could dredge up. “Mr. Boff, I sincerely wish you the best of luck in finding these killers.” He took a deep drag and blew the smoke Boff’s way. “But while you’re at it, my friend, you should be aware that Brooklyn can be a very dangerous place. The kind of place where a guy poking around in other people’s business might get himself hurt.”
Boff looked amused. “Are you threatening me, detective?”
Galvani shook his head. “Not at all. I’m just doing my duty as a police officer to warn you of potential danger. And now?” He flicked his cigarette away. “Now you have yourself a really nice day, Mr. Boff.”
Getting into his car, Galvani started the engine. As he reached for the gear shift, Boff tapped his fist on the window. The detective rolled the glass down. “What
now
, Boff?”
“I just wanted to tell you to have nice day, too. And make sure you enjoy these kinds of days while you can.”