Dead Money Run (11 page)

Afte
r
we got in the car, I told Hilary about Max Reynolds and my theory about his involvement.

“Maybe he’s lik
e a minder,” said Hilary. “You know. Maybe Susan had been arrested for something and they were using her as a snitch. When a guy is getting it on with a girl, he might say things that he otherwise wouldn’t say. You get my meaning?”

“What do I say
when we are in bed?” I said.

“A whole lot of grunts and
‘baby don’t stop’. The rest I can’t recall.”

“What is it that they say, ‘Loose lips
, sink ships’, or something like that,” I said.

“No, I think it is more ‘Keep mum, she’s not so dumb.’ I like that better
,” Hilary said.

As we drove to Atlanta, I kept kicking
around the Reynolds connection, Susan’s death and Hilary’s idea that maybe it wasn’t the money at all. One thing for sure, more than one group was in the mix. One trying to get the money, another trying to stop us from doing something we didn’t know about and another trying to get something that we had but didn’t know we had.

“Hilary, m
aybe you’re on to something. We have something, but don’t know we have it. What if my sister wasn’t working under duress, but was undercover.”

“Lou, all girls work best undercover.”

Things needed to make sense and my sister working with someone was more her style. She loved being on the edge. I always told her she would have made a great criminal. Max Reynolds, Shelia and Billy Marks and my sister all having the same address in Atlanta was no coincidence.

“Lou, I
think I got it.”

“Got what?”

“Why this is just like what happened in that movie ‘Casablanca’.

“You got me there,” I said. “I don’t watch television.”

“Not a movie on TV, silly. ‘Casablanca’ is a famous movie. It’s about this guy who runs a bar in Casablanca and this girl who is in love with another guy the Germans are looking for. While they are hiding out, she takes up with this guy who owns the bar because they had been lovers once. His name is Rick and the bar is called Rick’s. Anyway, the guy named Rick has to choose between helping them escape and keeping the girl. Maybe your sister was in love with this Max and she was helping him in some way.”

“That sounds nuts. Hollywood is nothing but
fairytales.”

“You got something better?”

“No,” I said. “Anything is possible. I just don’t believe in fairytales.”

“You don’t?” said Hilary. “Then how do you explain you and me?”

“I can’t. Just
something that is. No other explanation for it.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Hilary. “You just hold onto that thought for later.”

As we drove down the road, I made a call to someone who I knew who I thought could get some information for me.

John Goodman
was in the computer security game. There wasn’t a computer system that he couldn’t hack or information he couldn’t find.

“John, this is Lou Malloy.”

“Lou, I heard you were getting out. How are things going for you?”

“Not bad,” I said.

“What can I do for you, Lou?”

“I have a few names that I would like you to run down for me.”

“Fire away,” Goodman said.

“The first name on my list is a Max Reynolds. I think he is connected with Homeland Security in some way. He has an office in Atlanta.
And John, get a description of him for me. I want to know what he looks like.” I then gave him Max’s address.

“Next is Sonny Cap.”

“Sonny Cap. What the hell are you messing with him for?”

“You know this guy?”

“Who in Atlanta doesn’t know Sonny Cap? Cap is bad news, Lou. But his Old Man is the one you need to watch out for. Name is Nick Cappoleto. He’s very dangerous.”

“Why?”

“Why you ask? Because he’s in the killing business. Killing someone is a regular event for him. Has his fingers into just about anything that is illegal. His Family is the Sex Depot of the crime world. Any size you want, at any price and in any style. They got it. Strip clubs, porn, drugs, prostitution, anything.”

“
Okay, throw his name in the pot.

“
Now I need some information on an entity called Sixty-Six, Partners. I think they are in Atlanta someplace, but that’s all I got on that.

“Next, I want to know the real owners of a place called the Golden Slipper Casino and Resort on Cumberland Island and a place called the Timucua Casino and Resort in Jac
ksonville Beach, Florida.”

“That’s easy, bunch of Indians.”

I could hear John laughing at his own joke.

“You’re serious on this casino thing?”

“Very, John.

“Next, I want you the check out a
person named Angel Garcia. He works for Sonny Cap. I want to know where he lives, what he drives and who his friends are. He’s supposed to run a place called the Starlight Club.”

“Anything else?”

“Find out what you can about a woman named Kandi Kain.”

“Sounds like a candy salesman,” said John.

“She was my sister and she’s dead. I’m looking for her killer.”

“I’m sorry, Lou. I didn’t k
now you had a sister.”

I didn’t want to get melancholy over
Susan’s death with John or anyone for that matter. What was done was done.

“
Her real name was Susan Malloy. She may have been hooked up with this Max Reynolds on something.”

“When do you want this stuff?”

“This afternoon if possible,” I said.

“I got it. ASAP.”

“Yes. Don’t try and call me. I will call you.”

“
Seriously, give me a few days, Lou.”

“I need it as soon as you can, John.”

“You thinking of setting up shop at the Starlight?”

“No
, John,” I said. “Just find out what you can. I’m especially interested in Sonny Cap and Angel Garcia. Also, see if you come across someone named Hightower in the mix. Be careful, John. They play rough.”

“Lou,
you don’t have to warn me. Sonny Cap, is not a schoolboy. I don’t know the others, but if you are thinking about messing with Sonny, better be careful.”

“Thanks
, John. I’ll keep that in mind,” I said and disconnected the call.

John was right. The stakes were getting higher. At this point there was no turning back. If I didn’t stay in the game now they would still kill me
, Hilary and anyone else that had anything to do with the money or whatever they think we had.

“How did that go?”

“That was a friend of mine named, John. Said we were as good as dead.”

Whe
n
he finally got to the scene of the crime, Ramiro began with his usual questions.

“
Who called this in?”

“Some
one from across the street. Neighbor was out walking his dog. The dog broke loose and went behind the bushes at the front of the vic’s house. When the dog began howling, the neighbor went to haul his dog out of the bushes and found the body, dialed 911. Got Mandi and she patched it to us. We were around the corner at the other crime scene when she called. Took five minutes to get here.”

“Roscoe say how long the
vic’s been dead?” Ramiro asked.

“
About six hours, no more.”

Ramiro was standing outside of the house. He really didn’t want to go in. He had seen enough dead people for one day.

“What’s inside?” Ramiro said.

“Six dea
d. Two, torn up pretty good. Four others and this one right here all have head shots. Professional hits, be my guess.”

“Great,” said Ramiro. “Any idea who lives here?”

“Shelia and Billy Marks.”

“Marks, that name rings a bell,” said Ramiro. “Any hist
ory on these people going forward? Like where they work, where they’re from and what the hell happened here. They look like ordinary people.”

“Not that ordinary,” said a voice from behind
. Turning, Ramiro saw an Indian in a uniform with a badge on his chest.

“And who are you
, chief?” Ramiro said.

“Name’s
Two-Tree. I’m with the Timucua Tribal Police Force.”

“You’re a little off you
r reservation aren’t you Chief?”

“Not really
, paleface. And it’s Sergeant Two-Tree to you.”

“My question still stands,
Sergeant.”

“
When I hear about one of our people being involved in a homicide, I’m obligated to check it out.”

“Which one of these people belongs to you?”
said Ramiro.

“The
dead woman inside, if it is Shelia Marks, belongs to us. She’s a Tribal Officer.”

“I thought only Indians could be part of your organiz
ation,” said Goodnight.

“Before she married Marks, her last name was Ligh
tfoot.”

“
You happen to know what Marks did for a living,” Ramiro said. “This isn’t a cheap house.”

“He was a dealer
at our casino here,” said Two-Tree.

“
I didn’t think dealers made this kind of money to be able to afford a home like this.”

“I don’t think they owned this place,” said
Two-Tree.

“You mean they rented this place?”

“Yeah.”

“You know who the owner is?” Ramiro asked.

“Someone named Reynolds.”

“You got a number for him?” Ramiro asked.

“I can get that for you, but right now I would like to get inside the house and see what the crime scene looks like,” said Two-Tree.

“Looks like someone was cutting up meat,” said Goo
dnight.

“Isn’t that what happens when you kill something?”
said Two-Tree.

“You Indians always did have a way of putting things in perspective,” said Ramiro.

“We have a saying before we went into battle. Today is a good day to die.”

“From the way this deal is falling,
” said Ramiro, “it looks like that’s true every day lately.”

“Hilary?”

“Yes O Great and Powerful Wizard.”

“I’m being serious. I think we need more
muscle on our team. I can be in only one place at a time and I don’t want to leave you at risk.”

“What, you think I can’t protect myself?”

“No,” I said. “That’s not it. I’m worried about what’s chasing us.”

“What did you have in mind?” said Hilary.

“I know an ex-con who was a professional wrestler and while we were in prison together told me that I should look him up when I got out. From time to time he said that he would do a side job. I just knew him by his professional name.”

“
And what’s his name? Just don’t tell me it is something like the Scarlett Knight or something.”

“Crusher.”

Folding her arms across her chest, Hilary replied, “Sounds cartoonish, if you ask me. When I was young, I remember a cartoon that had a dog in it called Crusher.”

“I never got to watch cartoons
when I was young,” I said. “There were too many other things going on that kept me in stitches.”

As we got
closer to Atlanta I become more vigilant. Every car, truck or motorcycle was a threat. If I saw someone behind me more than one time my concern level went up a notch.

“Do you think it
’s safe to go into town with a hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars wrapped around your waist and another three hundred grand in the trunk of the car?”

“Not with you watching my back.” I said. “I have to find Northside Drive and NW Te
nth Street. The gym where Crusher said he worked out was on the northwest corner.”

After about two minutes
of doodling on her iPhone, Hilary had the location and read out the address for me. I told her I could do that, but I wanted to give her something to do. She laughed and said, “In your dreams, Big Boy. I’ve seen you thumbing a cellphone and if God hadn’t given you forefingers you would still be in the dark ages.”

C
hapter 31

W
e
arrived at the Northside Gym thirty minutes after exiting I-20. Before we got out of the car, I gave Hilary the rules of the road, so to speak.

“Okay,
I won’t ask for an autograph,” Hilary said. “At least not right off.”

“Fine,” I said.
“Just let me do the talking. It’s been about three years since I last saw Crusher. Remember, caution is the better part of valor.”

“You done?”
said Hilary.

“Yes.”

“For your information, I was a member of the female wrestling team at my college and I was all-intramural for my weight class. I will not make a fool out of you in front of your friends. I have you know, I know the difference between a Flying Mare and a Full Nelson. Do you?”

S
he had me there.

“Flying Mare is something seen in Greek Mythology and a Full Nelson is a drink made famous by some
sea captain who lived in Boston named Nelson. Take that Ollie,” I said. “How did I do?”

“You missed it, but don’t worry. We have plenty of time to work on the moves later.”

From the outside, the gym looked like one of those suburban shit holes where kids hung out and wrote graffiti on the walls. Besides needing a paint job, the letters on the sign above the front door were falling off and there were potholes in the parking lot. However, the inside of the gym was another story. It was equipped with the best of everything. There were four raised rings with a couple of wrestlers in each practicing moves. It reminded me of a gladiator school from the days of the Roman Empire that I read about while in prison.

Looking around the room
, a grappler was hitting a heavy bag while another gym rat, the size of a Pee Wee Leaguer, was trying to hold it in place. The Puncher hitting the bag was as black as a crow’s wing and had a head so shinny it looked waxed.

With each punch, the
smaller man holding the bag came off the ground. I walked up with Hilary and asked if they knew anyone named Crusher. The Puncher turned toward me and said, “Who wants to know?”

“I do,” I said.

“And who are you, Bread?”

“Don’t call me bread and
I won’t call you Shiny. My name is Lou Malloy and this is my friend, Hilary Kelly. “

The
Puncher stepped away from the bag and flexed his shoulder muscles. He wore a white muscle shirt and white tights. With each body movement, he rolled his muscles in the direction of the movement. My guess was the move was to either scare me or impress Hilary. He was big, no doubt about it, but I had him in height by about four inches and I was committed. There was nothing I could do about it except to play it out.

“You’re either the smartest
honky I have ever seen or the dumbest. Only two ways this is going to go down, Bread. I either gonna whip your white ass or you gonna whip my black one. You good with that?”

“Sure,” I said. “But don’t you want to get your cut man out here first?”

Hilary was grabbing my arm saying, “Lou, let’s forget this part of the plan. Not worth it. Please…”

The
Puncher looked past me again and smiled at Hilary saying, “Don’t worry sweetheart, you’re next.”

When he said that, I wrapped my right hand around the roll of quarters in my pocket and let my hand drop to my side. The Puncher turned to tell everyone to step back and give him room. When he started to turn and face me, I hit him right on the tip of
his nose with everything I had. I didn’t hurt him as much as I surprised him. Puncher was sitting on his fanny so fast he almost missed his landing. A steady stream of blood was coming from his nose and after a few more seconds, he rolled over on his side and put his hands to his face. As he did that, I stepped back and straightened my coat and rolled my shoulders. Two could play that game.

Turning
, everyone in the room was looking at me like I was some alien creature. Hilary’s jaw was hanging open and Pee Wee dropped his arms and said, “Oh my. I think he’s dead.”

“No,” I said. “
Get some cotton in his nose and put some ice on it. He’ll be good as new in about a week.”

No one else in the place moved. I took a
nother step back and everyone took a step back from me like a choreographed dance step. Finally Pee Wee said something to the effect of ‘Did I know what I just did.’ It was a stupid question and there was no reason to answer it.

“I need to find
someone named Crusher,” I said.

Pee Wee
pointed toward the floor and started to try and revive the Puncher when I heard a voice from the back of the place say, “Leave him be. He needed to learn a lesson and you gave it to him.” Looking up, the voice belonged to a well-dressed person wearing a white shirt and tie. Walking toward us, he held out his hand when he was about two feet from me.

“Stuart Roseman. I own this place. What can I do for you?”
I didn’t shake it. Looking at his hand, he dropped it and said, “Mister Malloy, you’re looking at Crusher lying on that mat out in the main area of the gym. Not sure what you need Crusher for, but it would seem he may have lost his usefulness.

“Now, if I may,
I will try and be of some assistance if you told me what it is that you needed Crusher for. I suspect that it is muscle. Have I got that right?”

“You’re close,” I said.

It had been about five years since I last saw Crusher and things change, but not that much. The Crusher I knew was white.

“Yes,” said Roseman.
“Generally when people come around asking for Crusher they need someone to provide protection, but from the looks of it, that’s not your problem.

“My office is in the back of the gym. It might be more private than talking out here in the middle of the room.
”

As we followed Roseman back to his office, Hilary cut her eyes at me and I put my hand out in a placating motion. Roseman’s office looked efficient. Everything seemed to have a place. After we sat down, Roseman took a seat at his desk and
was looking at me in an attentive way. I planned on waiting him out. Finally he said, “Let me try this on for size. You were in prison with Crusher and made his acquaintance on the inside, as they so often like to say. However, it would appear that you are quite capable of taking care of yourself. That being the case, I can hardly believe you feel the need for protection on a personal level.” Turning, Roseman looked at Hilary. “Ergo, the protection must be for you, Miss Kelly?”

Hilary
shifted and I sensed she was about to say something that didn’t answer the real question. “Roseman,” I said. “My sister was killed a few months ago while I was incarcerated. I’m looking for her killer.”

“Are you a
n ex-cop?” he said.

“No, I’m
an ex-con and her brother. That should be cause enough.”

“
Agreed. So why does Hilary here need protection when she has you?”

“I’m not always going to be around and
some people play rough, real rough.”

Sitting in his chair, Roseman put a finger to his lips. “This is about money,
I take it? If you tell me otherwise, then I can’t help you. However, if it is about money, then I am your man.”

People wanted to hear what they want you to tell them.
Roseman was probably no different. What could he do for us? He might have fancy clothes on and look like he just stepped out of GQ, but at the end of the day we had to help ourselves.

Sitting forward in my chair, I said, “Mister Roseman
, that is your name, right?”

He didn’t say anything, but nodded his head in the a
ffirmative like some wise old sage.

“I don’t really know you. Furthermore, I don’t know what you can do for us even if I asked you to do it.
Since I don’t know you and Hilary doesn’t give a shit what you can or can’t do, that leaves the game up to you to win or lose. You think you can help us, then tell us what you can do and we’ll decide whether you’re in or not. How’s that grab you?”

We sat looking at each other while Rose
man brushed the front of his shirt with his hand like he had something on it that wasn’t supposed to be there. It was a tell indicating he was about to do something and he was trying to distract us. As he did that, I reached inside my right coat pocket and cocked the Python. I was prepared to shoot through the desk. A person could hear a pin drop.

Whatever Roseman was planning, he gave it a pass
when he heard the hammer on the Python click in place.

“I know who you are. You
were part of the gang that lifted a cool fifteen million dollars from the Outfit that owns the Indian Casino on Cumberland Island. I remember the day of that caper like yesterday. You see I was on the island that day doing some work out at the Georgia Research Center there. I used to be a professor at the University of Georgia.

“
At the time, I thought you boys had a lot of balls to pull that off. I still think that. But, I’m not interested in being your enemy or, for that matter, your friend. I’m interested in being your partner. To be that, I have to convince you that I’m trustworthy and have something of value to give you. The only way to do that is to earn it. So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to put this on top of my desk,” and with that he placed a Colt pistol, it looked to be a .32, on top of his desk and said, “I’m going to get up and let you two talk it over. You haven’t been on the outside long enough to get to where you need to go without someone like me helping you. I figure you are here looking for that someone or something. Otherwise, you would be gone. Fifteen million dollars is a lot of money, even nowadays. The people you took it from want it back. I could get them to pay me to give you up, but then I’d spend all my time looking over my shoulder waiting for someone to come up behind me.”

When Roseman finished with his little pitch, he got up from his desk and said, “
Okay, I’ll leave you two to talk it over.”

Like a pair mongooses watching a snake, Hilary and I
watched Roseman leave the room. The effect of that was not lost on us. Had the Colt he placed on the desk been loaded, it would have made a bigger impression. Hilary was the first to say something.

“I thought I had seen everything, but I never saw an
ything like that. What do you think he wants, Lou?”

“What they all want, money. The question is, how much?
Now we have to figure out how to do this without him nosing around.” After I said that, I held my finger to my lips to cue Hilary and she played it perfectly.

“I was thinking that we might as well trust him. We have nothing to lose. Besides, he seems
like such a nice guy. Maybe he can get the Puncher to help too. I felt so bad for him. Do you think he’s alright?”

I gave Hilary the look. She was starting to overdo it. When she saw me, she just waved her hand
in front of her face and kept talking.

“I declare
, Lou. You are just the nicest guy. Beating up people one minute and wanting to help them out the next. Doesn’t it just give you a warm feeling all over?”

I was tempted to tell her that it did and that it was ru
nning down my leg.

“Yeah. Let’s get Rose
man back in here and tell him we’ll get back to him tomorrow with our decision? What do you say, Honey Bunch?”

Hilary
looked at me and stuck her tongue out. After a few more minutes Roseman opened the door and walked back into the room. He reminded me of a poker player that had drawn the fourth ace in a stud poker after betting the pot.

“So what do you guys say? Do we have a deal?”

“Yeah,” I said. “But we need to think about it and let you know for sure tomorrow. How’s Crusher doing?”

“Spots, that’s
who was holding the bag, took him down to Grady Hospital. He should be okay. He is a tough cookie.”

“Yeah,
if you ask me,” I said. “He looks tougher than a garlic fart.”

Roseman
was grinning from ear to ear. He knew he was in. In fact, everyone was grinning. He grinned figuring he had us by the short hairs. Hilary, because she figured she was looking at a dead man and me, because I was the one who was probably going to kill him.