Steve’s shorts” The Music Woman, Part One…
[Although The Music Man musical features a male character who’s basically a shyster, have you ever wondered why Broadway never had a music woman? Maybe Funny Girl, Mame, and Hello Dolly come close—the latter from Jerry Herman, who just passed on—but Detective Castilblanco knows a music woman…]
The Music Woman
Copyright 2020, Steven M. Moore
I’d just put Ceci and Pedrito to bed after reading to them a bit from Tom Sawyer when Sulli called.
“Help me, Rollie! I need help! They kidnapped Lizzy.”
I thought a moment, but then remembered. Reginald “Reggie” Sullivan calls his significant other Lizzy, although everyone else calls her Big Fogg or simply Big. Her birth name is Elizabeth Ellen Fogg. Nickname’s a joke perpetrated by her fans. She’s just under five-feet tall and has the body of a twelve-year-old. She has streaks of gray in her hair, though, and can slap a bass fiddle around with the best of them.
Although many would call him a snitch, I usually tried to be nice to Sulli and call him an informant. I’d known both Big and him for a while. Even had them over to the house once for dinner, and I’ve sat in on a few of her gigs…pleasure, not for work.
I felt closer to Big and not just for her musical gift. She was friendlier than Sulli and kept their little family afloat. What Sulli took in from informing didn’t amount to much, and he’d usually spend it on food and drink. Big was the stable breadwinner in that relationship. Personally, I’d have tossed the guy out—don’t look for logic in relationships. Just consider my wife Pam and me.
I looked at my watch. Time for bed, Mr. C. I could imagine Sulli holding his smart phone. His pajamas were always a la mode—striped boxers and a sleeveless muscle shirt maybe leftover from his childhood, it was so short. His enormous beer belly would be hanging over the waistband, a three-day shadow on his face, and indecipherable stains on both sleeping garments I never wanted to think about.
“Isn’t she off to a gig?”
“That’s just it! The manager of the night club called and said she never arrived. The rest of the group have no idea where she is.”
I wondered if someone was using Big to get to Sulli. I’d always been afraid someone would take him out. Wouldn’t recommend him to a life insurance company, that’s for sure. The bad guys don’t like snitches. Hell, we cops can hardly tolerate them. He didn’t pal around with the bad guys, but he kept his eyes and ears open, so someone was bound to figure things out.
I was able to calm him down enough to elaborate on what he knew. Where’s the gig? What group was she playing with? Who’s the manager of the club? And so forth. He had some answers. I’d have to get the others on my own.
Big had left their apartment with her instrument. Sulli said he blew her a kiss from their second-story window when she got into the Uber. Uniforms had found that vehicle in the Bronx, the driver dead and turned into a cyclops. The murder weapon, wiped clean, was tossed onto the passenger seat. Big’s bass was still in the back seat. Yep, looked like a violent kidnapping and a pro job, but why?
The dead driver made it a homicide, but it was out of my precinct’s jurisdiction. I contacted the detective in charge of the case.
“In twenty-four, we’ll turn it over to the FBI for the kidnapping. We’ll then be focusing on the murder case.”
“It’s obvious they’re connected. Can’t you keep the feebies out of it?” I’d had some run-arounds with FBI agents in the past. Thought they mostly got in the way. And it was hard to argue that they should be involved. No state lines had been crossed as far as I knew, although that never stopped them before. And they did have more experience with kidnapping cases, if that’s what this was. Moreover, they were cops just like us, but their precinct was a bit larger and covered 300+ million people. Never wanted to be an agent.
“I know Sulli. Can’t trust him. And he often tends to get excited, not to mention being a conspiracy theorist. Perfect for the FBI, Rollie.”
“I know Sulli too. Didn’t think this sounded like his usual paranoia, though. Even with all his faults, he loves Big.” I thought a moment. “Who’s the FBI agent you’re going to finger?”
“Who knows? Someone in the New York office.”
He hung up. And people think authorities work together! Knew this detective too. He was a dickhead who barely tolerated any minorities. As a Puerto Rican, I was as much an American as he was—I’d even been born in Manhattan. He needed to go police somewhere without any diversity.
***
By the time I knew who the agent would be the next day, I’d confirmed most of Sulli’s version of the facts, talked to the nightclub owners and the manager, and interviewed the members of the jazz group. It was more convenient to meet the agent in a deli where I could get an early lunch.
I’m a big guy, but Frank Dobson was huge—NFL-nose-tackle big. Crushed my hand in a handshake affably, flashing a smile that showed perfect white teeth and a great personality. Knee-jerk reaction: I liked this guy.
“Heard a lot about you from other agents, Detective Castilblanco.”
“Call me Rollie. Good things or bad?”
“Generally good from the troops in the trenches, and I don’t much care what the boss-men think. They’re the reason we take flak, after all. You didn’t hear that last from me.”
I smiled. “Hear what?” Plopped into my chair. “Want to order something?” He shook his head for food but wanted coffee. “Well, down to business. I’ll tell you what I got so far. You tell me what you got.”
“My part’s easy. Zilch. Nil. Nada. We just started. And I can’t figure out what the motive might be.”
“Maybe to get to Sulli.” I had to explain the role he played in my life since I’d inherited him from another FBI agent, one who became Chen’s boyfriend but committed suicide, never recovering from his kid’s murder. “Otherwise, I’m in the same boat. Some facts, but no real leads.”
He thought a moment after I finished my spiel. Good thing, too. My pastrami on rye had arrived along with his coffee. I checked for my spicy mustard. Barely adequate. Might not need my Tums. “Your theory is as good as any. Did he piss someone off recently?”
“You mean, besides Big or me? Who knows? Probably not any more than normal, if his lifestyle can be called normal. Sulli’s a weasel, like I said. A big slob who tries to keep both sides happy and profit from them both as well. He has some moral underpinning, but that won’t get in his way if he can sell info to lowlifes about other lowlifes, or even bad cops.”
“How much have you used him?”
“Off and on. So have other cops. To continue the metaphor of questionable animals in the zoo, he’s also a sly fox. Info is money to him, but he won’t give you the time of day if he thinks his nuts are in danger.”
“Could he have pissed off one of those lowlifes without realizing it?”
“Being an informant doesn’t come with good health insurance, or life insurance, for that matter.”
“And his woman knew he was a snitch?”
“Never asked her. I don’t like to get mixed up in other people’s relationships.”
“So…how do you want to proceed?”
He eyed me over his mug’s brim as I took another huge bite. Chewed slowly and thought. What a difference! Sometimes the feds came into a case like a stampede of water buffaloes. Repeat: I liked this guy!
“Don’t expect anything from that other detective,” I said. “He’s letting you do the hard work about the kidnapping. The kidnappers are his killers, so easy-peasy, his case will be solved when we find them. How much do you know about the Big Apple?”
“New in the office this year. I’m fresh out of Quantico. Before that, I was a cop in the Big Easy.”
“Then I’ll be your eyes and ears on the street. Sulli’s too emotionally involved to help out there. Let’s both do our thing, although I’ll have to work the case on the sly. We’ll trade phone numbers and keep in contact. Work for you?”
“Sounds like a plan.” He pointed to the crumbs on my plate. “Are you doing lunch after that?”
“Probably not. I asked if you wanted something.”
“I’m on a diet. Watch the waistline, detective. Your days as a lean and mean SEAL are long gone.”
I watched him walk out of the deli. The SOB had researched me! Guessed he liked what he saw, except for my waistline.
***
I had to fit Big’s kidnapping into my regular caseload. Frank Dobson and his FBI minions discovered one clue. Two black SUVs could be seen on a CCTV video made across the street from the club by a CCTV security camera. They blocked the Uber car’s front and rear. Two thugs sporting ski masks jumped out and attacked. Big was thrown into the SUV in the rear, and both sped away.
“Good work. I haven’t had any help from the uniforms, so I couldn’t check for videos.”
“Probably why they had ski masks on. The plates were stolen, by the way.”
I nodded. A pro job. What was Big into? Or, why did someone have so much against her that they would organize such an op?
“Either mob or a government agency,” I said to Frank. “What do you think?”
“Not ours, anyway. Could be someone else from the government, I suppose. We checked out the Uber driver too. Some poor bastard from Queens trying to make a few extra bucks at night. Immigrant family man and clean as a whistle. I hate that. Wrong place, wrong time.”
“Agreed. Not good. I suppose the family knows by now?”
“Your detective friend informed them. We’re not showing them the video.”
“No friend of mine. Let’s get back to Big. Any ideas about why she was kidnapped?”
“I’d probably have some if I knew who did it. You should talk to Sulli. Bring him up to date and see if he’s calmed down enough to come up with some possibilities.”
I sighed. Big and Sulli lived in a sketchy neighborhood where the residents didn’t care much for cops. Hell, he didn’t care that much for cops. Just saw them as a money source.
***
“It might be my stepson,” Sulli said.
I’d invited him to precinct HQ so I could play the DVD of the video. Glanced at Chen. She shrugged. She had her own snitches and didn’t know Big and Sulli that well.
“Big had a son?” I said.
“Youthful mistake, in my opinion. Go figure: The court gave the ex custody. I learned about him after we’d been together a while for that reason. Sort of disappeared from her life. Judge thought Lizzy’s means of making a living wasn’t stable nor appropriate for raising a six-year-old kid. That was seventeen years ago.”
“Why do you say it could be the stepson?” said Chen.
“I learned a little ‘bout the ex. Nick Bellini isn’t a nice man, to put it mildly.”
“Grasso’s hit man,” said Chen, rolling her eyes.
She said Grasso’s name like it was a curse…and for good reason. My partner and the Grasso family had a long history, even though she’d effectively saved the old man’s life, not that that mattered anymore.
“Seems like that judge made a bad decision,” I said. “I suppose Papa Bellini taught the son all the tools of the trade.”
“And, more than likely, to hate his mother,” said Sulli.
“Enough to kidnap and torture her?” I said.
“Torture?”
“Why else would they kidnap her?” said Chen. “If they only wanted to kill her, she’d have died with the Uber driver.”
Sulli squirmed with that realization. Thought a moment. “In the judge’s defense, Nick wasn’t such a bad ass back then, except for beating the crap out of Big when he got drunk.”
“And I suppose that didn’t come up in the custody hearing,” Chen said.
“No proof. Big never filed a complaint or took out a restraining order.”
“If he’s her kid, what the hell is he doing with Big?” I said. I glared at Chen. “Besides torture. Can you think of some specific grudge?”
“And why now?” said Chen.
Sulli wrung his hands. “She might already be dead. You often don’t find the bodies, right?”
Chen nodded. “Mob victims often just disappear. But Nick or his son could have killed them earlier, like I said. Rollie?”
I’d been thinking. “Something else is going on. I’m still thinking this might be a way at getting at you, Sulli. But what’s the trigger event after all these years?”
“Nick’s death. Word on the street is that he’s dead.” He raised his hands as I frowned at him. “Don’t look at me in that accusing fashion. There’s no body, but that’s the word. Giancarlo could have snapped.”
“And blamed you for fingering him?” I said. He nodded. “Okay, we’re looking for Giancarlo Bellini. Sounds like a damn opera composer.”
“Well, as a matter of—”
“Never mind. I’ll have to bring Frank up to date. Do you have a recent photo of Giancarlo?”
“When he graduated from college, standing next to his father.”
“He went to college?” said Chen.
“Pre-med. Somewhere in Boston. Tufts, I think. He didn’t get into the medical school he wanted, so he’s not a doctor. Not a legal one, anyway. Word on the street is that he’s now called ‘The Surgeon’. Could have multiple meanings, of course.”
“Damn your ‘word on the street,’” I said, also forming quotes with my index fingers. “Couldn’t you have told me about all this before?”
“Didn’t occur to me until I saw the SUVs. Still could be a government agency. Your friend Frank should check into that.”
“And he might want to get the FBI’s organized crime unit involved,” said Chen.
***
Comments are always welcome.
Books in a series are like mega-chapters in characters’ developments. Why not market, read, and review them as a group. I’ve written various reviews of series in these pages. They’re also often evergreen, books that are still fresh and current as the day the authors wrote them…maybe even more so.
The seven-book “Detectives Chen and Castilblanco Series” is one of these evergreen series. The bass player Big and Sulli the snitch are secondary characters in these books. From The Midas Bomb to Gaia and the Goliaths, the detectives take on NYPD homicide cases that often blow up into national and international conspiracies, books filled with important themes and interesting plots and characters.
The series has as spin-offs too: the novel The Golden Years of Virginia Morgan, the “Esther Brookstone Art Detective Series” with Rembrandt’s Angel and Son of Thunder, and many short stories and novellas that can be found in my blog category “Steve’s Shorts” and in the list of free PDF downloads on my “Free Stuff & Contests” web page.
For more descriptions of the Chen and Castilblanco novels, visit the “Books & Short Stories” web page at this website. You’ll find these books on Amazon and Smashwords and all the latter’s affiliated retailers (iBooks, B&N, Kobo, etc.)
Around the world and to the stars! In libris libertas!
