CHAPTER 2
After getting the lengthy list of the shootout participants from the cop, Matt loaded up in his truck and went toward the office. He hit the speed dial on his phone, the call connecting with the ranch in the Santa Monica Mountains. "Hey, Lil Mama – think you can come into the office? We've got one hell of a job."
"Twenty bucks and a bag of chicharrones says that it has to do with the explosion in Glendale." CJ was already gathering up her purse and keys.
"Yup. How'd you know?"
"Oh, it might have something to do with your daughter getting all excited about seeing her dad on TV a few minutes ago."
"Ah hah."
"Be there quick as I can, Cowboy."
"Love you."
"Love you more." She hung up and bent down to give Catey Rose a hug. "You be good and help Miss Sheila with your brothers, okay?"
"I will. 'Bye!" The two year old turned back to Tilly, the half Husky/half Blue Heeler that was her constant companion and guardian, babbling about Daddy and Unka Mike being on TV before going back to playing with her teddy bear and a large pile of building blocks.
Matt's next call was to his office and he heard the familiar voice of his longtime secretary answer the phone. "Houston Investigations, may I help you?"
"Don't know. I've been told on more than one occasion that I'm beyond it."
"I doubt that. What's going on, Boss?"
"We're not taking any cases right now. I'm heading there and we're most likely going to be having several folks in and out of there until we get a big mess sorted out. Did you hear about the explosion in Glendale?"
"No, I've been doing some cleaning and reorganizing here." Secretary Chris Chase was dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt – a change from her normal business attire. She had been doing some spring cleaning on the office and knew that Houston wouldn't care what she wore.
"Well, you might want to check the coffee supply and put a pot on if you haven't already. We're going to have a few folks around."
"I'll do it."
"I sure appreciate it, hon. See you in a few minutes." He hung up thinking to himself that as well organized as Chris already had the office how much more could she possibly do? "Probably don't want to know." Chuckling as he realized that he was once again talking to himself, the PI worked his way through the afternoon traffic toward the office on Figueroa.
Riding up to the penthouse suite of the Houston Building, the PI worked the fingers on his right hand. The cast had been removed that morning and he was scheduled to begin some therapy sessions in two days – something he hadn't had to do when he broke his left hand about a year earlier. It had taken longer to heal up this time and the cowboy blamed it on the fact that the cast had gotten wet. Doc Metcalfe had reminded him that he wasn't getting any younger and advised him to be more careful in the future. Maybe typing on the computer will be therapy enough.
A big smile covered his face as he exited the elevator and spied his secretary. "How's my girl Lilly doin'?" He picked up the stack of mail on the front corner of the desk.
"Getting big. She started crawling last night and freaked her daddy out." Both shared a laugh; Chris' husband Murray Chase was the CEO of Houston Industries and was known for his near-panic attacks.
"Remind me to send him a jug of moonshine before she starts walking." The rangy PI cracked up again.
"Oh, heavens no! The last thing I need is Murray taking a drink."
"Darlin', trust me – all he would have to do with this stuff is take a whiff – it'll calm him right down."
"Where in the world would you get moonshine?" She stood with her hands on her hips.
"Don't ask, don't tell. You oughta know that by now." He paused as he looked down at one of the envelopes in his hand and opened it, the secretary's laughter stopping as she saw how his right hand seemed shaky.
"You alright?"
"Uh huh." He read through the information that had arrived from Derwin Dunlap – his business partner in Mosey Games as well as the BugBytes systems. Advanced testing was due to take place in less than two months on the combat simulator that they were working on for the Department of Defense. He frowned momentarily, then stuffed the papers back into the envelope, folding it and putting it into his shirt pocket. "Better get to work in here."
"Just let me know if you need anything."
"Oh, CJ is on her way in, too."
"Good. I may need some help keeping order if you get a bunch of folks in here." She smiled as he turned and started up the steps into the office, shaking his right hand as if it was asleep. It was then that she noticed that he was wearing his holster on his left hip. The smile was replaced by a worried look.
Going behind the bar, Matt poured himself a cup of coffee and went over the back of the couch and had a seat before hitting the switch that caused the coffee table in front of him to rotate over and reveal BABY, the computer that he often used in his investigations. In a minute a familiar phrase popped up on the blinds that had closed to become a monitor for the computer: HIYA, BOSS!
"Right back at ya, BABY. Looks like you're going to be put to work before you get that upgrade we talked about." Derwin was going to have one of his top technicians do the work on Matt's computer for him. Pulling out his notebook, he began typing the first of several names into the machine.
Twenty minutes later he spoke to the computer again as he was shaking his right hand once more, trying to work out the kink in it. "May be a long night for us, girl."
"You know any other woman might be jealous if she heard her husband talking to another woman like that." CJ had come up into the office catching him by surprise.
"Any other woman but you; you know better than to be jealous." He leaned back and accepted the kiss from her, then handed her the other half of the list that Officer Juarez had given him. "My lady – your to-do list."
"I thought I was supposed to be the one to give out the honey-do list?"
"You're a modern woman; you're not supposed to be sexist." He grinned up at her, the pair exchanging another kiss as Hoyt's voice chimed into the conversation.
"Enough smooching, you two. We've got work to do." He went behind the bar and poured a cup of coffee before sitting down beside Houston on the couch.
"Gettin' bossy in his old age." Matt pulled her back down for another kiss before winking at her as he heard the predictable sigh from their friend. Turning back to the computer, he typed in another name. "Did you get anything from either one of them?"
"Not really. Columbo was already on his way to surgery when I got there. Buzz is he's got about a forty percent chance of making it. Angioli has seen too many gangster movies. Even kind of looks like Edward G. Robinson." Doing his best impression of the well-known actor he added, "He ain't sayin' nuttin', copper."
"Bet he's already got a lawyer on the way in from Chicago, too." Houston shook his head.
"What have you got?" Hoyt leaned back and took a sip of coffee.
"Pretty much a who's-who of the mob world. I started with the New York folks. Albricci..." He paused as he pulled up a picture of the now-dead Mafia boss. "...has been head of the family for a little over a year. He was voted in when the last don – Calabrezi – died from cancer. Got a reputation as somewhat of a drama king: likes to play it up apparently. But the number of people that he's suspected of taking out over the years isn't anything to laugh about. He's just been good enough and lucky enough to have the right lawyers that managed to get things taken care of for him." The reply was a grunt as the cop downed more of the coffee. "His right hand man is Luciano Greco..." Another picture appeared up on the screen as the PI hit a few more keys. "He's still in New York. Thought I would learn a little about the organization of each branch as I went along. Might help to point to whoever decided to liven up the meeting. Anyway, this guy has been nicknamed Il gatto - the cat. Apparently he's rumored to have nine lives, two of which were reportedly used when he got shot by a couple of jealous husbands when he was younger."
"Sounds like somebody else I know." Hoyt chuckled thinking back to the PI's reputation as a lady's man in the years preceeding his marriage to CJ.
"Cute. He's also been in several close calls because of his chosen profession. He was injured in a bank heist that he helped to pull off about twenty years ago. Never did any time for it though."
"Lawyers?"
"Yep."
"Umph." The cop shook his head. "So is Greco a shoe-in for the top dog spot?"
"Don't know – him being second in command you would think that, but we both know that if they're anything, the mob is unpredictable at best."
Another voice joined the group as FBI agent Alex Bateaux poured himself some coffee. "That they are – apparently there is quite a discussion going on in New York after they learned of Albricci's sudden demise."
"Oh goody – they've started already." Hoyt drank down more coffee.
"As somebody who's dealt with them before I can tell you that the clawing for position within the ranks never really stops: it just quiets down. Someone is always looking for a way to get the chair at the head of the table."
"But no idea of who might have planned the explosion?"
"Nope – not yet. We've put agents in each of the cities on overtime right now trying to catch as much chatter as they can and others sifting through it." Bateaux had a seat next to Hoyt after stepping over the back of the couch. He watched as Houston began moving on down through the list. "We're also trying to nail down the exact location of each of the known members for the last forty eight hours."
"That's going to be fun." Hoyt shook his head.
A little while later, Rich and Mitchell entered the office together, both having a seat on the couch. Houston looked across at the pair. "Anything?"
"Not exactly. Best we can tell the detonation point of the explosion was the ashtray." Mitchell leaned forward and looked down the couch at the others. "Rich and I both noticed that there were the remains of cigars either on or near the bodies of all five of the dons."
"So maybe they all lit up..." Houston got up and walked over toward the windows, stretching as he did so, his right hand down at his side where he once again shook it to get rid of another kink. "And boom. Do we have any idea what fueled it?"
"Not yet. We've got techs at ATF running the parts of the ashtray for trace. When we get the rest of the pieces that were embedded in our victims from the ME, Rich has a tech that's going to try to reconstruct the ashtray."
"What's the preliminary report from the ME on cause of death?" Hoyt went back to the bar and poured himself another cup of coffee and began another pot.
"Naturally they don't like to commit this early in the game but the general consensus is trauma from the blast – but they wouldn't rule out shrapnel from the ashtray or table either." Rich yawned.
Houston sat back down, absently rubbing at the beard on his face. "That table was probably what? About six or seven feet in diameter?"
"I'd say about that." Gunterson nodded.
"Assuming that the ashtray was in the middle of the table..." The PI thought about it for a minute. "Wait a minute. Who owns the storage facility?"
Hoyt piped up. "De Fiore bought it about six months ago."
"And that underground area was strictly for housing wine?"
"Yep."
"So it was most likely equipped with climate controls – folks are awful picky about how their wine is stored – especially collectors."
"So I've been told." The cop nodded.
"What about a manager?"
"We've got an APB out for him." Michael watched his friend. "He's nowhere to be found."
"What's his name?"
"Dale Bishop." He read off the information to Matt who began working the keyboard again.
"Lives a few miles away from the storage facility. Married, two kids ages ten and twelve..." He read through what he had on the man. "Just seems like the average guy on the street."
"I ran a check on him – absolutely no criminal background whatsoever." Hoyt took a sip and then looked up as CJ entered the room.
"Hi, guys. Hon, I found something kind of interesting about Mario Bassinelli – the don from Miami."
"What's that?"
"There have been rumors for a few weeks that he thought he had a mole in the organization. One of his men suddenly "disappeared" and there was nothing else mentioned about a mole. Things quieted down."
"And has this person reappeared?"
"No. Not that I've found."
"Fibby..." Matt looked over at the FBI agent. "This sounds like something that would be in your area of expertise."
"I'll call Miami and see what I can get." With that the agent got up and walked out onto the patio, his cell phone in hand.
"Matt..." CJ knelt down behind the couch, a hand on her husband's shoulder. "I wouldn't think that Bassinelli would take a chance on a major meeting like this if he thought he still had a mole."
"You wouldn't think. He must have been pretty sure." There was a pause. "But I gotta say, that's the most interesting tidbit we've had so far. Good job."
"I'm going back to the rest of the list. All I have left is the New Orleans folks."
"Yeah, we're about done here, too." After a big sigh, the PI picked up where he had left off: checking into the Chicago family. "Maybe we'll be able to get something out of Angioli or Columbo – if he makes it."
Over the next few hours the group finished working through the list of participants at the shootout as well as looking at the top brass of each family. Not much else of interest was found.
"Well..." Houston stood up and began walking around again, stopping to pop his back before resuming the pacing. "It seems like we're at a stopping point for the night, fellas. Until we can get something from the ME, the ashtray, or one of Alex's co-workers I think we're at a standstill. What do you say we call it a night and see what things look like in the morning?"
There was a general agreement and everyone left the office, Matt and CJ being the last two there. As they locked everything up and set the alarm, neither had much to say. On the way down to the parking garage, he put his arm around her. "Thanks for coming in and helping out."
"Well it's my company, too, pal." She buzzed his cheek. "We certainly got landed with a mess."
"Ain't that the truth."