Mr. Softee (26 page)

“
I left him on the patio, you know, so I could go inside, save your worthless ass, and Jill of course.”

“Manning just mentioned a lot of blood, no body.”

“He wasn’t going anywhere, believe me.”

I was drumming my fingers on the kitchen counter, thinking.

“Lola and Ponytail run away. Benton hobbles away. Do they stuff the body in the car?”

“Maybe
. Sounds stupid, but they could have panicked. The had maybe sixty seconds tops to get out of there before the cops arrived. I don’t know, that body will probably turn up somewhere, they always do. No sweat, nothing can tie us to it.”

“So
, if you’re Lola and Ponytail, do you run? Stay? The cops are looking so a credit card at a hotel might get you nailed. She doesn’t strike me as the type to sleep in the back seat of a car anymore. But what if there’s somewhere available? Some safe place where you could lay low?”

“What the hell are you talking about?
”

“Maybe they went to
Benton’s, just to keep out of sight.”

“Maybe
.”

“If only we knew where that was?”

“Hey, you’re the P.I. You’re supposed to be able to figure all this shit out.”

“Yeah, that’s part of
the problem, isn’t it? Where’s your computer?”

“Do I look like I have a computer?’

“Good point.”

I phoned Sunnie
Einer, my computer-wiz lady.

“Dev, long time no talk
. Gee, let me guess, you’re not calling to ask me out to dinner or the Guthrie or anything, but you need help with something?”

“See
, that’s why you make the big bucks, Sunnie, you’re so smart.”

“If I wanted to make big bucks I wouldn’t stay in education
. What’s up?”

I explained my situation, sort of
. I left out the part about the two or three murders, the threat on Jill’s life, the threat on mine. As a matter of fact I left out Jill all together. I skipped the part about taking the cash from the ice-cream truck and just touched on Mr. Softee.

“No offense, but once again I feel like I’m not getting the complete story, Dev.”

“See what I mean about being so smart?” I charmed.

“God, wh
y don’t you just Google this Benton person for starters?”

“Well, I’m sort of in a remote location and don’t have
a computer, right now.”

“Oh g
od, no excuse, even you may have heard they have all these phones with apps now, call them smart phones. You could be sitting in your car somewhere and have access to all of this. Did you ever think of joining the twenty-first century and investing in an iPad or an iPhone?”

“I’m under
cover right now,” I said.

“Really
? Doing what, pretending to be productive?”

“Sunnie, can yo
u find out where this guy lives?”

“Oh I
suppose. Give me his name.”

“Harold Benton,” I said, then spelled the last name
. “Look, I’ll call you back…”

“Oh
please for god’s sake, hold on, I’ve got it up now.”

“Really?” I was genuinely surprised.

Sunnie ignored my remark.

“There’s
three of them in St. Paul, one is eighty-one, on Seminary Avenue, that’s with the middle initial E. One is twenty-six, no middle initial, on Bragg Avenue. One is thirty-seven, middle initial J, on Ravoux Avenue. Any of those help?”

“Better give me all three
again.”

I wrote
the addresses down, along with the phone numbers.

“We should get together
, Dev, soon. I always feel so good about my life once I hear whatever nonsense you’ve been up to.”

“Thanks
, Sunnie. I’ll give you a call when I’ve got this project wrapped up.”

“She got you the info that fast?”
Dog asked between coffee slurps.

“Yeah, computer shit
. You want to come along and check these out, see if we can find our friends?”

Chapter Sixty-Seven

The first place we
checked was Harold Benton, aged eighty-one, on Seminary Avenue. The Benton that had broken my nose, slapped Jill around, and Dog had knee capped didn’t strike me as a rose gardener or eighty-one. He could have been a son but that just didn’t seem likely.

The second Harold Benton
, on Bragg Avenue, age twenty-six, came with a pretty, young wife and two toddlers on a swing set in the side yard. That didn’t seem to work either.

The third Harold Benton
, age thirty-seven, middle initial J, on Ravoux Avenue in Frogtown came with a house in need of paint and an overgrown lawn with dandelions. Neither of those facts was as convincing as Lola’s black Mercedes parked almost, but not quite behind the house in the driveway.

“How
‘bout we nail the doors shut, set the place on fire and then shoot them when they jump out the windows?” Dog was only half joking.

“Why don’t we just call the cops?”

“I don’t know about your ponytail pal but there’s a pretty good chance the woman can get lawyered up and released. How long you expect Jill to hide? Or, what if that bitch finds some other hot button, like going after your mom, or sister, or that computer chick? Or what if she’s got some other goon running around she can...”

“
Okay, I get it. Any ideas?”

“I told you, we nail…”

“Come on.”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact
. I think it would be a lot easier if we got them out of the house. We call tonight, set up an exchange, disable the car, when they come out we nail them. Pretty straightforward.”

“Pretty cold.”

“You’ve seen what they’re like. You think this woman is gonna back off?”

“
You’re giving me another idea,” I said.

“I don’t want to hear we’re going to convince her to turn herself in and confess
for the good of society. That’s going nowhere.”

“No
. Remember the warehouse deal. The guy goes out the window and lands on the sidewalk?”

“
The one where you got two shots off, you mean the dead guy, Pinky Ackerman?”

“Think those folks might be interested to know where she is?”

“They just might be the ones putting pressure on her to come up with the money.”

“
Even better. Let’s eliminate us as the middleman and just turn everything over to Pinky’s family.”

“It might work, but hold my idea as plan B, just in case.”

Chapter
Sixty-Eight

It took a number
of phone calls, but eventually I was sitting in the office of Brian Ackerman. Pinky’s son.

“I’m still
not clear why you contacted us,” Brian said.

T
here were three other guys in the office with us, each outweighed me by about fifty pounds, they were clearly armed, and exhibited no sympathy for either Mr. Softee or Lola.

“It’s like I told you
. I’ve been to the police, they’re investigating. Meanwhile, this woman kidnapped my girlfriend, assaulted both of us, threatens to kill us if we don’t give her money. Even if she’s arrested, she’ll have her lawyers get her released. At that point it really is in her best interest to kill both of us.”

This seemed
a perfectly normal course of business to two of the guys sitting on a couch and they nodded slightly, understanding the logic of what I had just explained.

“And you want me to do what
? Put a contract on her like this is some sort of Hollywood movie?”

“No sir
. I just want you to be aware of what I saw that afternoon. I want you to know I explained all this to the police. And, I want you to know what I, actually my girlfriend and I, have been going through as a result.”

“And you think they’
re at this address?” he glanced at the address I’d written down.

“I’m pretty sure
. The guy, Harold Benton, worked for her and Softee. Like I said he did the nose job on me. Softee’s car, a Mercedes 600, is parked in back, I saw it. I wrote the license number below the address there. Benton’s already locked up.” I didn’t feel any pressing need to mention Benton had been knee-capped.

Brian Ackerman stood
and held out his hand.

“Mister Haskell, I appreciate you calling and relaying this information
. I think it would probably be in everyone’s best interest if we let the authorities proceed and allow justice to take its course.”

I shook his hand, looked him in the eye
, and said,

“My condolences to you and your family
on your father’s passing,” then followed one of the heavies out of the office to a block of elevators where he left me.

I met Dog
down at The Spot.

“So how’d it go?”

“I don’t know. I guess I sort of expected him to slap me on the back and say thanks, we’ll take it from here. Instead, he told me it would be best for the authorities to proceed and let justice takes its course.”

“He actually said that, the justice part?”

“Yep.”

“You know, I just think it might be a good id
ea if a lot of people see you in a public place tonight.”

“What?”

“Alibi.”

“God, I just want this whole thing to be over.
”

Chapter Sixty-Nine

I couldn’t tell you
if it was the phone ringing or my pounding headache caused by the phone ringing that woke me up the next morning.

“Mister Haskell, good afternoon.”

I really wasn’t in the mood for a cheerful Detective Manning at the ungodly hour of, I checked, almost one thirty in the afternoon. I smacked some of the Jameson off my teeth, then groaned,

“What?”

“I said good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon,” I grumbled.

“You know, you seem to be developing an incredible knack of associating with people who fall prey to violent deaths.”

If something happened to Jill
, I’d never forgive myself.

“I’m not sure what o
r who you’re talking about,” I swallowed down the lump in my throat.

“Reasonably attractive woman, she spent some time with you just the other night, Lola Lentz.”

Thank god, I thought.

“Lola Len…  You mean Softee’s squeeze?
”

“Well,
yes, and apparently his niece, among other things. Of course, I once again find myself suggesting it might be a good idea if you stopped by to chat. You do know where we’re located?”

“Yeah, yeah
, I think I can find the way,” I said struggling off the couch.

“Say about an hour from now?”
Another police question that was not really a question.

“Sure, will I need a lawyer?”

“That’s up to you,” he said and hung up.

I made it down to the
police station in an hour and fifteen minutes. Pretty good considering I had to shower, shave, dress, then spend twenty precious minutes looking for my car keys.

We were
in my favorite sterile interview room. I sat across from Detective Manning; the grey Formica table scarred with brown, wormy looking cigarette burns between us.

“And yo
u have chosen not to have counsel present at this time, is that correct, Mister Haskell?”

Manning was speaking into
a recorder. He had just finished making me aware that we were being filmed as well.

“Please
state for the record where you were last night between the hours of midnight and one-fifteen this morning.”

“I was in
The Spot bar. Having several drinks with friends.”

“And did you leave the premises at any time?”

“I did not.”

“And do you have proof of this?
”

“I do,” I answered, then reached in my wallet and produced five receipts and pushed them across the table toward Manning.

“Would you please state for the record what you have just given me.”

“Those are five receipts fro
m the ATM inside The Spot bar. They’re a record of cash withdrawals from my checking account, each in the amount of twenty dollars, each marked with a date and a time. The first one is from about eleven-forty last night, then approximately every thirty minutes after that.”

“Do you have any witnesses to the f
act you remained at The Spot for the entire time?”