Hidden in Lawndale
By Cap
Joe Huff took a swig from his bottle of water and grimaced. He wanted coffee and a cigarette but the PC pricks that ran everything banned both pleasures while on duty.
"Just thirty-four more months," he muttered to himself.
Maria Saint John, his partner, laughed from her seat next to him on the bench. "C'mon, Joe, it's not that bad," she said. "You'll probably be bored stiff with retirement anyway."
"Maybe," Joe grunted scratching behind the ear of the large dog that sat on the sidewalk before them. "But at least I won't have to nursemaid scum like Olivier after that."
"His testimony has put a lot of bad guys behind bars," Maria pointed out.
"Yeah, but that doesn't cover his tab by a long shot in my book," Joe snapped. "That guy ain't nothing but a murderer. He'd still be Bocelli's number one gun if he hadn't rolled over after he'd been nabbed."
"Bocelli's locked away forever," said Maria. "Most of his organization is."
"Yeah, that's a real comfort to the fourteen widows that Olivier created," Joe replied sarcastically.
"There are always trade-offs in life," Maria said.
"The lesser of two evils is still evil," countered Joe.
"Put on your best fake smile. Here he comes," Maria said nodding her head toward a slender man that was, to all outward appearances, aimlessly strolling through the park. With only the greatest of efforts did Joe force a smile to his lips.
"Hey, that's a Rhodesian Ridgeback, isn't it?" Olivier asked in a loud voice when he came abreast of them.
"Yes, it is," Maria answered.
Olivier dropped to a knee and vigorously rubbed the dog's head. "Well?" he asked in a quieter voice.
"It's over," Joe answered. "Slick Vic Fonts played 'suck tit' with a shotgun last night. He was the last one you could help us with."
"Vic always said that he wouldn't rot in prison," Olivier replied. "Now I can do what I want."
"Hardly," Joe replied with satisfaction. "Bocelli's is out of the picture but his nephew Paulie has taken over what's left. You still need to remain incognito."
"You're safe here," Maria added. "Where we can keep a watch over you."
"Look, honey," Olivier snarled. "I made my deal and kept my end of it. I'm not going to let you people keep me in this suburban prison without bars any longer. Got that?"
"Got it," Joe muttered at Olivier's rapidly departing back.
"Idiot," Maria said irritably. "C'mon, let's go. I need to find a restroom."
"There's one in the center of the park," Joe said. "The men's room was very clean the last time I was here I guess the women's restroom would be as well."
"I hope so," she said turning down the walk.
They arrived at the compact brick hut within moments.
"Bowser and I'll wait out here," Joe said.
Maria laughed. "I didn't expect your company."
Joe laughed in return as she disappeared into the restroom. "Yeah," he said to himself. "That was a stupid thing to say."
Joe's eyes fell on a payphone on the sidewall. He stared at it for several heartbeats without realizing that he was doing so. He rubbed his chin and threw a glance at the door to the women's restroom. His feet moved almost on their own volition as he dug out a handful of coins from his pocket. Joe quickly shoved them into the slot and swiftly punched in the telephone number from memory.
"Starlight Lounge," a voice answered after three rings. "Rocky speaking."
"Yeah, Rocky, grab a pencil," Joe said. "I got a message for Paulie Bocelli."
"Who's Bocelli?" Rocky asked. "Who are you?"
"Oh, shut up. Just tell him that Dean Olivier can been found at-"
(*)
"Channel 18 Action News with anchors Frank Yates and Cindy Laughlin," the voice over announced.
The red light on the center camera lit up. Cindy Laughlin looked directly into the lens. "Good evening. Our lead story tonight is a tragic homicide. Lawndale police are investigating the death of local teacher Timothy O'Neil found strangled in his home. The body was discovered by one of his colleagues at Lawndale High School where Mister O'Neil had taught Literature and Creative Writing for several years."
