Life Struggles (Life Stories Book 1) (7 page)

He wanted to know about my investigation so far. I gave him what Danny had, minus any names. Of course, other than Creechur Danny didn't have any names either. I told him I was planning on looking into the gay porn industry, but wanted to tackle drugs first.

“Is Alex gay?” That was from Jerry. I'd talked to him about Alex, about the joys and heartbreaks of single parenthood, showed him pictures, and actually cried when I talked to him about Dana's death.

“My next door neighbor is Luke Dupree.” That was all I got out.

“The artist?” That was from Herb, and I nodded. “He's well-known, very open about his sexual orientation but not flamboyant. What does he have to do with Alex's disappearance? And, by the way, you look like you slept in your clothes.”

I came clean. “Alex disappeared from Luke's yard after he finished mowing. His clothes were found at the curb. Do I suspect Luke of anything? Fuck, no. Alex called him “Uncle Luke” while he was growing up. He and Dana were like siblings. Alex and I talked about homosexuality. He said it was fine for others, just not for him. Healthy attitude in my opinion.

“I talked with Luke about Alex's sexuality. Luke assured me as a relative expert that Alex, in his words, ‘is so straight it hurts.’ Luke's roommate, Marcus, is also gay. He agrees. But, date rape drugs, force, blackmail, even overwhelming arousal could lead a guy to do things he wouldn't otherwise do.” I hoped we had finished with this topic.

“Prison's the same way,” said Jerry. “Nobody fucks with me because they know I can have them hurt
really
bad. But guys I've known for years are in here butt-fucking and cock-sucking every night. Me, I'm right-handed.”

I decided to skip asking him any questions about his statements. I didn't really want to know anyway.

“Jerry, where do I start to try and find Alex if he's somehow mixed up in the drug business?” There is was. I could only hope that he would point me to a starting place.

“Well, first, my old gang isn't recruiting new members right now. That's at my orders. The last guy they recruited was a Capelleti plant and turned out to be very expensive to the business. If somebody in my gang has recruited Alex, then he's in for a long vacation. Maybe even a permanent one.” I found it fascinating that he could talk so calmly about having someone killed.

“I'll ask, and I'll tell them to let me know immediately if they hear anything. Do you want them to do this passively, or go out looking?” The offer was really tempting. But I turned it down.

“Jerry, both I and the police are at a point where we know nothing, nada, zilch, zero. We have no idea if the local bishop or the Girl Scouts could be involved. The police weren't happy with me looking by myself, and they damned sure wouldn't be happy about interference from a bunch of,” I chose my words carefully “social club members taking an active role. Passively, at least for now.”

“OK. Well, everybody's product actually comes from the same wholesaler. The business has gotten into the twenty-first century. There's specialization and supply chain optimization. Where the wholesaler gets his stuff is a mystery, and the retailers don't want to know. There's competition at the retail level, but there's so fucking much money, and so much muscle, at higher levels that they have stopped fighting and started franchising.” Sounded like one of my management professors in college.

“Jerry, can I share that information if I can get corroboration? I'll do everything conceivable to keep your name out of it. And, Herb, I'll show you the copy before I show my editor. Jerry's position is untenable, he might be able to get the key conviction overturned, and frankly I've never put a source in harm's way yet.” I hoped I was showing my genuinely sincere face. Yeah, I know, when you can actually fake sincerity you've got it made. But I didn't fake well.

“Ethan, that's fine. Jerry, what else?” Herb was all about business.

“The wholesaler has support functions performed by companies owned by somebody else. Don't try to find the owners; the Feds have been looking for twelve years with no success. But there's a weak link. They have a common auditor that has nothing to do with the business. Maybe you think that's strange, but the industry is moving toward emulating best practice all around. An independent auditor helps. And, the auditors only see what the businesses want them to see.

“Weecham, Weecham and Klotzbaumer is the audit firm. I have no idea how you're going to use that, but it's the weak link. No, you can't take that to the police. That is only a starting place. If you get two other sources who will go public, of course use it. But this is what they call ‘deep background.’ It's just to get you started.” Jerry reached for my hand, and I gave it to him.

“Ethan, I ain't got no kids, but my sister does. I'd be going nuts if one of her kids was missing. And my gang wouldn't be doing nothin' passive about it. If you need anything, just ask.” Inside the drug-dealing murdering extortionist there was a heart. Maybe stone overlaid with a speck of gold.

Herb and I said our good-byes. I asked him to send his invoice to my house along with the diagram.

“No charge, Ethan. I'm Jerry's attorney, and he got a hell of a lot of value out of this meeting. If you need to see him again, call me.” We shook hands and parted.

On the way back south I called Danny.

“Where the fuck have you been? It's been three goddamned hours and I don't know if you've found Alex, or gotten killed, or what. You said every hour, asswipe.” I think he was a little peeved.

“I got nothing about Alex, but I do have a lead to start a new line of inquiry. Sorry about the delay, Danny, it was unavoidable. Next stop is about the same industry. And, I've got something that I need to work on before I can give it to you. It should help do major damage to an industry of concern to your employer.” I sounded smug. For a while.

“I got nothing about Alex, either.” Danny sounded almost as disappointed as I felt.

“Ethan, there is an “observe and report” out on your car. You can't expect us to throw you into the lion's den and look the other way. Nobody's going to try and I.D. your sources, we just want a head start if you push the panic button.

“Well, we finally got a report. It's in your fucking
driveway
. And nobody's home at your house. How the fuck did you do that, Houdini?” I think Danny was more curious than upset. I think.

“Danny, I've got to keep a couple of tricks up my sleeve. Just wait until you see me on top of Christ Church Cathedral waving your underwear in the air.” Levity, got to keep up the levity.

“I don't wear underwear,” the detective deadpanned.

“Danny, this phone is done for. Gotta go. Bye.”

I had an hour before having to call in again. I pulled out another burner phone and called Luke's house.

“Morehouse College. Or Whorehouse College, I can never remember which. How can I help you?” It was fucking Marcus.

“Just the guy I wanted to talk to. Marcus, can you house sit for me for a couple of hours? I'll get someone straight to relieve you for the evening. I know it's Decadence.” I was trying to be kind.

“I haven't had a straight guy
relieve
me in a couple of years, Ethan. This should be fun.” Marcus was always a smart ass. “Yeah, I can work from there as easily as here. I'll sit on the place until relieved.”

Next call was to Barbara, the paper's executive administrator. “Barb, it's Ethan. No time to explain. Do you have an intern smarter than an aardvark who can babysit my place from mid-afternoon on? There's a guy already there, but he has urgent business tonight.” I didn't want to know about Marcus's urgent business, I'd seen his “Fuck Me Hard” T-shirt.

“I'll send Lucy.” Barb was one of my favorite people. “She was supposed to shadow Xavier today but he called in sick. Can I tell her what it's about?”

“Tell her I'm working on a big story with the police, but nobody besides the two of you can know it at the paper. If we can publish, I'll get her to do some of the writing and fact-checking, and give her credit as second byline.” I knew that would be more than enough for Lucy, and hoped Barb understood the fragility of the situation.

“Lucy will be at your house at three. She'll answer the phone and the doorbell and claim ignorance. It's easy to do when you don't know jack shit.” Barb got another brownie point.

“Can you let me know where Kendra takes her lunch?” Kendra was our financial reporter. I wanted to pump her for information about the accountants. Actually, I wanted to pump her in any event. Cheryl and I are not exclusive, and Kendra is a babe.

I got the information and called Kendra's cellphone.

“Kendra, it's Ethan. Yeah, that Ethan. I'll meet you for lunch at 2:30 at your usual place, OK? And no word to anybody. It's a big story with a financial sidebar you'll want to write if we get to publish.” The babe agreed to 2:30.

A couple more hourly calls to Danny and I pulled into the restaurant parking lot. Kendra was seated on the patio, smoking a cigarette and sipping an iced tea. Ever since the smoking ban the patios in town were jammed.

After exchanging quick pleasantries and pecks on the cheek, I got down to business. “I need to see the entire client list for Weecham, Weecham and Klotzbaumer yesterday. I can't tell you why. My son is missing, and that's not for public consumption. This is beyond urgent.” I had little hope of getting it in time to do any good.

Kendra picked up her cellphone and made a call. “Bookie, it's Kendra. Big favor to ask. Can you download a current client list for WW&K and e-mail it to me. And, this is on the down-low for now.” She paused for a few seconds. “Wow, that's fast. Thanks.”

Her phone chimed with an incoming message seconds after she hung up. She offered to forward it to me, and I thanked her. I left a twenty on the table to pay for her lunch and ran off.

I took off for an obscure gay bar located on Dauphine Street. First I parked in a city garage in the Warehouse District and took a cab. This was Decadence in New Orleans, and parking in the Quarter was impossible.

The Triple Toe bar combines a little bit of everything. Open twenty-four hours a day, it attracts drag queens, tranny prostitutes, tourists, bartenders from other bars because their pours were generous, insomniacs and enough other people that I could hide out in the open there for a couple of hours if necessary.

I ordered and paid for a double shot of vodka. The shirtless bartender winked at me and said, “There you go, honey.” I smiled and put a five dollar bill into the waistband of his Batman boxer briefs, the only clothing evident on him.

“I can be
very
grateful, you know.” Batman was showing a half smile. Yeah, I do know. I just don't want.

I went over the information Kendra had given me. I could eliminate old New Orleans firms with no change of ownership in the past fifteen years. I could eliminate the boutique firms providing nothing of much value to the drug traffic. That got me down to fifty-eight firms, still too many.

Then I looked at the date the audit firm was engaged. Seven firms had engaged the auditors within a week of one another eleven years ago. I had it.

I sent a message to Kendra's cellphone from a new burner. I listed the seven firms and told her to look at their client lists. Please don't publish anything you uncover for twenty-four hours. By then I would either have found Alex or my forty-eight hours would be up. Or I'd be dead.

Chapter Nine

One of the firms provided bulk transportation by truck. Not a bad place to start. I made a call to another source, this one in the local Motor Vehicle Office. I called her cellphone.

“Hello?” Good, no names yet.

“Do you know who this is?” I hoped and hoped.

“Lenny? How did you get my number?” She sounded confused.

“Nope, try again. I hope your life continues well.” The mention of my column name should bring me to mind. I hoped and hoped.

“You hope my… Oh, yeah. Hi!” Evangelina was sweet, just not the sharpest pencil in the drawer. Or the Motor Vehicle Office, for that matter.

“You get a break soon?” More hope.

“Yeah, my break's coming up in fifteen minutes. You want to see me?” Again, not the sharpest pencil in the drawer. Who the fuck calls the Motor Vehicle Office unless he wants something desperately enough to go through the hassle.

“I always want to see you.” Well, that was a lie. “Can I buy you a coffee at that place across the square?”

“Sure! I love their coffee. I haven't had that in a long time. Can I ask Belinda to come with me?” Sounds as though the eraser end has taken over this pencil.

“I'd rather see you alone, OK? And, can you bring your I-Pad with you? You said you had some new pictures of your family on it.” I couldn't remember her husband's name, nor the names of her two or three or four kids, or however many there were.

“Sure, the boys have really grown. Eric is in fifth grade now and Dawson is in fourth. Evelyn starts school next year, thank goodness. That'll let Big Eric go back to work and stop playing house husband.” Sometimes the stuff comes to you.

Fifteen minutes later I was occupying a corner booth at the café. Evangelina looked very happy, toting her I-Pad and clutching a (new?) purse. I complimented her on the purse. She had bought it on sale the previous weekend. Whew, one down.

We ordered coffee and I spent five minutes going through her picture album. Then I brought out five twenties and spread them out between us.

“The kids need clothes for school, and I want to help.” This was always the ruse under which she took a, well, uh, a, oh fuck, call it what it was. A bribe.

“Thank you! I guess you want to look at my I-Pad while I go to the ladies room?” She had the routine down pat.

“Thanks. The pictures are great.” As soon as she stood up I used her log-in to the Motor Vehicle data base. Got the information on the trucks and found the one I wanted. It had just passed its road test two days ago and was back in service. It was the smallest of the trucks, and I hoped that meant that it was used for deliveries in the cramped streets of the Quarter. Now, finding it was another problem.

When Evangelina returned I gave her a peck on the cheek, handed her the I-Pad, and wished her a good day.