During the next few weeks I was able to follow up on a bunch of loose ends. No rest for the weary or the wicked. I’ll leave it for someone else to determine which camp I fall into. The Monday after the rescue of Mary and Max I was able to follow up with the lady that called about her missing necklace. She was really busted up about it, seeing it was a family heirloom and all. Passed from mom to daughter for a few generations. Showed me a pic of her wearing it. Looked like it was a pretty expensive piece. Anyway, after talking with her and taking a look around the place things didn’t feel right. I had long since come to rely on that inner voice since back during the war, so I told her I needed to come back and talk to her husband.
She seemed a little confused and maybe even a bit cross, like maybe she thought I needed to get her husband’s ok on things. I threw a little legalese at her trying to forgo any hurt feelings. She didn’t know it but those were going to come later and they weren’t going to be directed at me.
See, I was pretty sure her husband did it. I didn’t have anything concrete, just that feeling tickling the back of my brain. So I needed to talk to the husband and try and see if I could get him to talk. The cops that came to investigate, even if they weren’t dirty, probably took a cursory glance around, collected statements and immediately wrote the necklace off as lost before they even left the house. They wouldn’t have said that of course but nine times outta ten if somebody takes your stuff it’s gone for good.
I made sure to get there before he got home from work to keep him off balance. He was mad but he tried to hide it, of course that’s what I wanted. We ran through the same questions that I had asked his wife and not once did he look me in the eyes. He did keep looking over at his wife and then down at the table though. It didn’t seem like she picked up on his body language but it was pretty clear to me.
I pulled out a contract for them to sign saying that it was a mere formality and that I had already started my investigation. His wife signed immediately but he hesitated and instead pulled out a pack of smokes. When I started to discuss my fees and the details of the contract he got up and started pacing around. He said the cops had already been here and told them to contact their insurance company and everything would be fine. Money was tight and he was working extra shifts. His wife’s face tightened and knew this was a conversation they had already had before.
It was then that I took out the picture of the two of them she had given me earlier and laid it on the table. That stopped him dead in his tracks and his eyes flicked over to his wife. When I started talking about what good looking couple they were and how happy they looked, he started to crack. I made a point of gesturing at the necklace when pointing at the picture. She softened but he started looking like a trapped animal. I spun a yarn about how my ma had a necklace she wanted to pass along but she only had me and was hoping she might have a granddaughter to pass it along to someday soon. That did it.
He started bubbering about how they needed the money and he made a good deal. He sold it to one of the Pinks, who had a habit of hanging around by the docks, for 5 grand. Quite a tidy sum of money. HIs wife was stunned and sat just staring, shaking her head. When she finally spoke her voice was cold and while she was looking at me she was talking to her husband. She said that the necklace had been in her family since before WWI and was worth easily twice that amount. Not that it mattered because to her it was priceless.
She stalked from the room while her husband sat sobbing and murmuring to himself. I waited a beat and then followed her out. She was pouring herself a glass of what looked like whiskey and when I approached poured one for me as well. I took the proffered glass and looked down at the amber liquid swirling it before making eye contact. She was still mad but I could tell she was trying to hold back tears. As she clinked my glass a single tear rolled down her cheek and she said ruefully, “You really are as good as they said in the paper.” Then she knocked back a hearty slug. I gave her a self deprecating smile and told her I was sorry for how it worked out. She shook her head and finished her glass and started to pour another. I told her that more than likely the necklace was at a pawnshop down by the docks and I was pretty sure I could get it back. An item like that wouldn’t sell cheap, not even there. She nodded as I finished my drink and I told her I’d be in touch.
Since the crime was a matter of public record I got a copy of the police report and took that along with the contract and the picture and headed down to the dock district. It was in the third pawn shop, Easy Cash and Pawn, that I found it. It was locked up tight and looked even more impressive in person. The owner was none too happy about the revelation that the necklace was stolen but there wasn’t much he could do. He bitched and moaned for a while but when I said we could call the cops down he clammed up and gave me the necklace.
I had Janice call up Mrs. Harings to tell her the good news and she came right down to the office within the hour. She was relieved to have it returned and said she hoped one day to have a daughter of her own to pass it along to. Janice helped her put the necklace on and then she hugged us each in turn before leaving. Her check included a generous bonus, considering I didn’t have to do all that much to crack this one.
Having dealt with the mysterious case of the missing necklace, I put in a call to OAfV to try and schedule a meeting with Max Sullivan. I was hoping to get an informal meet and greet just so I could get a measure of the guy but the secretary misunderstood I guess. Instead of adding me to his social calendar the secretary just put my call through to him, which I guess isn’t too shabby when you think about it.
We chatted for a bit and I expressed my gratitude for the work he’s doing and inquired after his health. He was gracious and self deprecating and talked about his grandfather. He thanked me for saving him and said he was doing as well as could be expected. I tried to reinforce with Max that O’Shea was integral to his rescue and that he was one of the good ones. I figure his dad will listen to him even if he didn’t fully trust me. We chatted for a bit longer and I told him I’d be happy to come down and talk anytime.
Now I don’t know if it was the bug I put in Max’s ear but O’Shea wound up being promoted to detective and had a hand in cleaning up the department. All the guys who had, let’s say, questionable records were either fired or transfered to other precincts. So there’s more than a few new faces down there.
Things with Jane have been pretty steady, at least as much as my work and temperament allows. Seems to suit her just as well. She’s got a pretty full schedule herself. Besides working at the Glow, she’s going to school for writing. She wants to be a songwriter and has been singing during open night mic at the Glow. Strangely enough there’s not too much friction between Jane and Evie. Not even with Jane taking some time at the mic. Go figure……
Meanwhile, part of the fallout from the case resulted in Mayor Sullivan starting a new crime initiative. Rounding up criminals has always been a tried and true method of ensuring good voter turnout but I think this was more personal for good ole Leonard. They started squeezing the Pinks and the Slicks and that resulted in a veritable turf war with the cops. It started off with some vandalism, smashing windows, trashing cop cars and the like. Now I heard that it’s escalated to the point of murder and a few of those officers were even killed in their own homes. I hope Brian doesn’t have too big a target on his back these days. He’s not working a beat anymore but still, he’s been in the news often enough.
I decided to drop in and see Sharlene Woodard as well. I wasn’t so much bothered about her case anymore, that bit had been settled. No, I was more concerned about her affiliation with the crime families in New York and what that meant for me. I’m content to fly under the radar in most instances, honestly it makes my job easier and my life less complicated. The Woodard case however put me right into the sightlines of some very powerful people, people I’d rather have forget all about me.
When I got down to Imperial it was pretty quiet and it looked like there were quite a few new faces. No sign of Derek Johnson though. I asked the dispatcher if Sharlene was in and to say that George Armstrong was calling. Sharlene agreed to see me and I went back to her office. We made small talk for a little bit and then I leaned forward and placed the lighter on her desk and told her that she still had a story to tell.
She sighed heavily as I lit a cigarette and settled back in my chair. Sharlene was silent for a long moment and I thought maybe I played my cards wrong but then she started to speak. She said that Marcus, who was older, knew about all of the mob stuff. Their mom’s name was Martha and she fell in love with a dangerous man. It was the danger and the excitement that drew her in but before too long there were unexplained bruises that appeared all too often and she began to feel trapped. Turns out that man was Antonio DeLuca.
She stayed in the marriage but found solace in another man’s arms, Frank Billioti. Another dangerous man and this was a potential powder keg if anyone ever found out. They wound up having two kids, Sharlene and Marcus and she kept it from DeLuca. DeLuca, none the wiser, assumed they were his own. Then one day she blew the whole thing up telling DeLuca the kids weren’t his and ran away with the kids, leaving New York behind. She started over and changed her name to Woodard. She got remarried but unfortunately died in a car crash, leaving the children as orphans. Sharlene said Marcus always protected her and she just blocked out all of the bad memories and Marcus didn’t bring it up as a way of continuing to protect her. Then Marcus was murdered and I started poking around and the old memories started to surface. I offer my sincere apologies and stand to leave. She stands as well and passes the lighter to me, telling me to keep it. It only represents bad memories.
I take my leave and life goes on lost in a blur of work, bills and Jane’s warm embrace.