Murder with a Twist (5 page)

eleven

That night, Nigel and
I went to Mario’s, a favorite restaurant of mine from my days with the department. It was a small place tucked away on a side street in Little Italy, but it served the best dish of
linguine con le vongole
anywhere in the city. I was surprised to find that the owner, Gino Santini, remembered me. He was a large man, with a ready smile and mop of bushy auburn hair that was beginning to go gray. He came out from behind the hostess stand and greeted me with a giant hug when we entered. “As I live and breathe! Detective Nic Landis!” he said. “How are you?”

“Hi, Gino. I’m fine. But actually, it’s Martini, now. I retired and got married. This is my husband, Nigel,” I said, indicating Nigel.

Gino extended his large paw of a hand to Nigel and said, “Well, congratulations to you. Nic, here, was one of the best detectives in the city, and the prettiest too. We miss having her around. But I suppose our loss is your gain.”

Nigel said something about agreeing to that, but Gino didn’t hear him. He had suddenly noticed Skippy. “What in the name of all that is holy is
that
?” he asked.

“That is Skippy,” I answered. “He’s new.”

Gino looked down at Skippy. Skippy wagged his tail, sat down, and presented his paw to Gino. Gino laughed and accepted it. Looking back at me, he asked, “Table for three?”

“Yes, please,” I answered.

Gino led us to a table in the back. Although we walked past several occupied tables, no one gave Skippy at second glance. There were some parts about New York that I really missed. Gino seated us at a table in the back corner. He handed us our menus and insisted to treating us to a bottle of wine. As we looked over the selections, I heard someone calling my name. I glanced up and saw Marcy and Arnie walking toward us. “Hello,” I said, smiling. “How are you guys doing?”

Nigel stood up and greeted them as well. “Are you here for dinner?” he asked. “We’ve just sat down. Can you join us?”

They demurred for a few minutes, saying that they didn’t want to intrude, but soon we had convinced them to join us. After Gino had taken our orders, Marcy turned to me. “So have you made any progress in finding your cousin’s husband?” she asked.

“Cousin-
in-law’s
husband,” I corrected. “There’s an important distinction. But no, we haven’t found him. Why? Have you heard anything?”

“Well, I don’t know if it’s related, but guess who turned up dead this morning?”

“Who?”

“Fat Saul.”

“How?”

“Shot.”

I wasn’t surprised. Fat Saul lived a violent life. It wasn’t too hard to guess that he’d come to a violent end.

“Where was he found?” I asked.

“At a building site downtown. It’s still under construction, but it’s another one of those high-end residential complexes. The flooring crew found him in one of the apartments. The coroner thinks he was killed sometime late last night,” said Marcy. She took a sip of wine. “We haven’t released the details of his death to the public just yet, so keep this to yourself.”

“Sure. Did Saul have any ties to anyone on the work crew?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Not that we can find. But it’s early days yet. Besides, Saul wasn’t exactly the kind of guy you admitted knowing.”

“How was he shot?” I asked.

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess, ‘with a gun,’” Nigel said. Turning to me, he smirked. “See? I should totally be an equal partner in this. I’m a natural.”

“Yes, dear. Very impressive. However, what I meant was, did it seem like an execution or the result of a fight?”

Nigel raised his eyebrows in admiration. “Oh! Good question!”

“From the looks of it,” said Marcy, “there had been some kind of struggle. He was shot in the stomach. Bled to death.”

“Painful way to go,” I observed.

“Yeah. I’m all broke up,” Marcy replied. “The way I see it, it’s one less psycho I have to deal with.”

“Any idea as to who might have wanted him dead?”

“Only half of New York. And not just the dodgy part. Fat Saul was an equal opportunity bastard.”

I thought for a moment. “Have you talked to Frank and Danny Little? With Danny out of prison, maybe they wanted to take over the business. When I last saw Frank he was sporting a pretty nasty black eye, a gift from Saul over Leo skipping town. Maybe Frank was tired of taking a beating from someone not his older brother.”

Marcy nodded. “Yes. I thought about that too. They both check out. They’ve got a group of people who swear they were with them all night, not that that means anything. That bunch would swear to Jesus Christ at the Second Coming with their fingers crossed behind their backs. Still, Saul made a lot of money with his business. It’s a hard motive to discount.”

“How lucrative was his business?” Nigel asked.

Marcy shrugged. “Who knows for sure? I doubt he ever filed a legit tax return. But let’s just say that had he visited L.A. before his untimely death, he might have had his fair share of starlets throwing themselves at him.”

“It’s a shame he missed that,” said Nigel.

I poked him. “Be serious,” I said, before turning back to Marcy. “Any chance you’d mind if I talked to Frank about this? Not in any professional capacity, of course,” I added when I saw her hesitate. “I just think that I ought to convey my sympathies over the recent loss of his business partner.”

“In person, I assume,” Marcy guessed, with a smile.

“I think it’s more appropriate.”

Nigel nodded in approval. “Very Emily Post.” Giving my hand a squeeze, he added, “Aunt Olive would be so proud of you.”

twelve

The next day found
us once again on Frank Little’s doorstep. This time, however, my knock was not immediately answered. I had resorted to leaning on the doorbell when Frank finally flung open the door.

“What do you want, Landis? I mean
Mrs. Martini
,” he groused when he saw me. “I thought we were done catching up.”

“What can I say, Frank? You enchant me. I want to talk to you about Fat Saul, your dearly departed business partner.”

Frank’s small eyes narrowed further. “What about him?”

“Well, I heard he turned up dead in a building complex downtown.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Do you really want to have this conversation out on your front steps?” I asked.

Frank considered this and then opened the door wide to let me in. “Just ten minutes,” he said.

“I know the drill,” I answered, as I followed him once again down
the hall to the kitchen. As before, Frank was not alone. However, this time there was only one other person sitting at the still-sticky kitchen table. With a frown on his face and a bottle of scotch in his hand, sat Danny Little. Danny was older than Frank by about ten years. Everything about him was an exaggerated version of Frank. His frame was bigger, his hair thicker, and his propensity for cruelness suggested in the more pronounced slant of his mouth.

Seeing me, he began to sputter. “Jesus, Frank! What the hell are you thinking bringing a cop in here?”

“Why, Danny!” I said with a smile. “I’m flattered that you remember me after all these years.”

“Aw, ease up, Danny,” said Frank. “She’s ain’t a cop no more. She got her leg shot up and got married.”

“It was the only way I could get her to say yes,” Nigel explained with an apologetic air. “Drastic, but effective.”

Danny turned his attention to Nigel. “And who the hell are you?” he barked.

“Nigel Martini,” came the reply.

Danny eyed Skippy next. “What’s with the dog?”

“He’s a Seeing Eye dog,” Nigel said.

Danny looked at Nigel. “You blind?”

“No,” Nigel answered. “Why?”

While Danny struggled to make sense of Nigel, I sat down at the table, taking care not to touch the sticky surface. Nigel and Frank did the same. Danny gave up on Nigel and poured out a drink for himself and Frank. No one offered us one. I was not offended.

“I want to ask you about Fat Saul,” I said.

“What about him?” asked Frank.

“What happened to him?”

“He got himself killed.”

“He did that all by himself ?” I asked. “Really? I thought maybe he might have had some help with that.”

“Did you now?” Frank asked. “Don’t see how it’s any of your business.”

I sighed. “Frank, the faster you answer my questions, the faster I leave. So, again, what happened to Fat Saul?”

Frank took a large sip of his scotch before answering. “Someone killed him,” he finally said. “I don’t know who, and I don’t know how. The police won’t tell me anything. All I know is that they left Saul to die like some animal.”

I leaned back in my chair. “Frank, you know as well I do that Saul did far worse to other people over the years. Don’t pretend like he didn’t have his enemies. There are some who might say his mode of death was fitting.”

Danny did not agree with my sentiment. His mouth twisted, and his eyes hardened. He leaned across the table and jabbed his forefinger at me. “I’d be real careful if I were you, Landis,” he said. “You’re not in the department anymore. That protection is long gone.” He made a point of looking at my leg. “Not that it served you too well before,” he said with a semblance of a smile. “You never know. Next time, it might be more than just your leg that gets shot up.”

“Which reminds me, dear,” said Nigel, as he crossed his legs and casually studied his fingernails. “We really should send flowers to that man’s grave while we’re in town. I know he shot at you first, but it’s the decent thing to do.”

Danny looked at Nigel in surprise before turning back to me. “Did you kill someone?” he asked. “Really? Because, no offense, but you don’t look the type.”

“None taken,” I said politely.

Nigel patted my hand. “It’s what first attracted me to her, actually,” he confessed.

Danny blinked in confusion.

“If you’re done threatening me, Danny, I’d like to ask Frank a few questions,” I said. “What do you know about Fat Saul’s death?”

“I told you,” Frank said. “Nothing. Someone killed him. End of story.”

“Not a very good story,” I said. “I think it needs more detail. For instance, let’s add in a man named Leo Blackwell.”

“Who’s that?” asked Danny.

“He’s the reason your brother has a black eye,” I said. “Didn’t Frank tell you about him?”

Danny looked questioningly at Frank. “What is she talking
about?”

Frank waved his hand as if to brush away the question. “It’s nothing. Leo’s just some mark. He owed me and Saul some money. Saul wanted me to collect, and I told Leo he had to pay up. Leo said he needed a few days, and I said okay. Leo took off, and Saul got mad.”

“Saul give you that black eye?” Danny asked.

“Yeah,” Frank said.

“Good thing he’s dead then,” said Danny. “How much does this Leo guy owe?”

Frank told him. Danny’s eyes widened. “Jesus. No wonder Saul was mad. Hell, I’d have clocked you too if you’d let that kind of money get away from me.”

“You always were a businessman first, Danny,” I said. “Have you heard anything from Leo, Frank?” I asked.

Frank took a sip of his drink. “Nothing. As far as I know he’s still hiding.”

“And what about the money he owes?”

Frank sat back in his chair. “I’m in charge of the business now, and as far as I’m concerned, Leo owes me that money and a little more, if you know what I mean.”

“I think I get the general idea. Any chance Saul might have been out looking for Leo when he was shot?”

“He might have been.” Frank’s eyes narrowed. “Why, you think
Leo
had something to do with Fat Saul’s death? He might hit a woman, but I can’t see him killing a man.”

“Well, that certainly is a noteworthy defense,” I said. “But even so, I’d like to talk to him. Any idea where he might be?”

Frank scoffed. “Seriously? You think if I knew that, we’d be having this conversation? Trust me, if I knew where Leo was, then you would too. He’d be at the hospital.”

“Fair enough,” I asked. “Do you know what Saul was doing last night?”

Frank shook his head. “He wouldn’t tell me. All I know is that he got a call and took off without saying anything.”

“Who called him?” I asked.

Frank shook his head. “I don’t know. I wasn’t with him when he got the call. One of the guys said that they thought it was a woman.”

I thought about that. “Could this woman have been a friend of Leo’s?” I asked.

“Maybe,” said Frank. “Saul put it out there that we were looking for Leo, and that we’d pay to find him. Lots of people happy to make a little extra cash this time of year.”

Danny shifted in his chair. “Why are you here harassing my brother?” he asked me. “He hasn’t done anything. Don’t you have something better to be doing?”

“Well, now that you mention it, there are a few restaurants I’ve heard a lot about. Maybe I should check those out. Ever hear of Little’s Vittles? I wonder if my old friends in the department would like to meet up there.”

Danny glowered at me. “There’s nothing going on there. It’s clean.”

“I assume you mean that figuratively.”

“I dare you to prove otherwise!” Danny shot back.

I turned back to Frank. “Frank,” I said, “You want to find Leo. I want to find Leo. For different reasons, of course. But the only way you are ever going to get your money is if Leo goes home to Audrey. Now, is there anyone who might be able to help me?”

Frank didn’t answer right away. He appeared to be debating some matter in his head. It could have been whether to tell me the truth, or whether to scratch a particular itch. Only time would tell. After a moment of internal debate, he looked at me. “Leo liked to have a good time, but he wasn’t real particular or steady about who he hung out with, if you know what I mean.”

I said that I did. “But?” I prompted.

He paused. “Well. Yeah. There is someone. But I’ve already talked
to her. She doesn’t know where Leo is either.”

“That may be so, but I’d still like to talk to her.”

Frank slowly nodded. “Fine. If it helps me get my money, I’ll tell you. Lizzy. Lizzy Marks.”

“Lizzy?” said Danny. “Our Lizzy?”

Frank nodded. “Yeah.”

Danny started to say something else but stopped himself. “This Lizzy was Leo’s girlfriend?” I asked.

Frank shrugged. “Might have been. Might not have been. Lizzy isn’t a one-man gal, if you know what I mean.”

“I do. How does she know Leo?” I asked.

Frank shrugged again. “I think she met him through some job she had.”

“Do you know what job?”

Frank shook his head. “No. I just knew it was some business downtown. A legit one, too,” he added proudly. “She’s real smart.”

Danny frowned. “Lizzy went legit? Seriously? Since when?” Danny’s face held an expression of profound disappointment. Not unlike a parent discovering their golden child has taken up shoplifting.

“I didn’t say
she
went legit,” Frank clarified. “I said she was working at some place downtown that
was
legit. At least on the outside. She got wind of some embezzling scheme her boss was involved in. She’s cashing in on it.”

Danny smiled, his faith restored. “Lizzy could always sniff out a scam.”

“I take it that you know her well?” I asked.

“Yeah,” said Frank, taking a sip of his drink. “We grew up in the same neighborhood. She’s a looker and always knew how to attract the guys. Problem was that she had lousy taste. Her first husband ended up in jail and so did her second, come to think of it.”

“Well, some girls always go for the dangerous guys,” I said.

Frank shot me a funny look. “Hell, Landis. In our neighborhood, everyone was dangerous. Lizzy just always seemed to go for the guys that didn’t have the brains not to get caught.”

“Ah, it’s a subtle distinction, but I get it now,” I said.

“That guy, Mickey, she went with didn’t end up in jail,” Danny pointed out.

“Yeah, but he got himself killed,” Frank said. “Like I said, lousy taste. It’s too bad, too, because Lizzy’s got brains. She always knew how to work someone. As a kid, she’d just smile real big and be able to get whatever she wanted. She probably would have made a fortune by now, but she always let herself get screwed by some asshole.”

“And now she’s with Leo?” I asked.

“Yeah. From what I heard,” Frank said. “But when I called to tell her about Fat Saul, I asked her about him, and she said she hadn’t heard from Leo in awhile.”

“Did she say anything else?”

Frank scratched his head. “Said her ex-husband was bothering her. She was thinking about changing her name or something.”

“Who is this ex?” I asked.

“Billy,” said Frank. “Billy Morgan.”

Danny looked up in surprise. “Lizzy married Billy? That idiot?”

Frank nodded. “Yeah. I know. Anyway, it’s over. He was working some insurance scam a few years back. Got sloppy and got five years. Lizzy divorced him while he was in prison.”

Danny shook his head in disbelief. “Billy Morgan
…
” he left the thought hang unfinished.

Frank nodded. “I know. Billy’s worthless. A couple of times I offered to make him disappear, but that’s not Lizzy’s style. She’s good that way, you know?”

“She sounds like a real gem,” I agreed.

“She should have taken me up on my offer,” Frank said. “Billy got out of prison early for good behavior. As soon as he did, he beat the crap out of her for divorcing him.”

Next to me, Danny shook his head. “Some system we have. It’s always the rats who get out early.”

“Cheers to that,” said Frank before draining his whiskey.

Neither of them seemed to appreciate the irony in that statement. I decided not to enlighten them.