Street Justice Page 4

  Mario left her with hope, saying he’d work on a date for her to clean his condo. When asked where Logan worked, she didn’t hesitate to reveal Bee’s Computer Shop.

  Truman’s funeral wasn’t for another hour, so Mario drove over to Bee’s Computer Shop on North Broad Street. After talking to a few people, someone finally got Logan from the back, where he repaired computers.

  Getting Logan away from other employees was hard with the busy showroom of customers. Mario spit out bullshit, telling Logan that his mother said he sometimes works on customers’ computers at their homes. Mario stressed side work. Logan shook his head. He’d done that when he was part-time. Mario had to laugh inside. Logan was as free with information as his mother was.

  Mario gave him a sad story of an elderly friend locked out of his computer who needed help. When asked if that was something he could help with, Logan replied there wasn’t a computer made he couldn’t get into.

  When Mario offered a hundred bucks for a service call and a hundred for the second hour, Logan couldn’t resist. They agreed Logan would contact him the next day for a time and Mario’s friend’s name and address.

  Chapter 10

  The perfect place for Truman’s service was Jacob Schoen & Son funeral home on Canal Street. It was packed with family and friends of Truman Burnett. The street had a line of police cars and a motorcycle caravan waiting to escort their fellow brother in blue to rest. Mario’s eulogy spoke of a man he’d worked alongside for many years as a partner. He kept his composure getting through the ten-minute speech and his eyes from contacting Truman’s wife or two children.

  The procession was a short run to the cemetery on City Park Avenue at a family plot, overshadowed by a large oak tree making for a beautiful final resting place. The funeral ended with a priest speaking to Truman’s wife, Charlotte, and kids. Followed by the mayor, the chief of police, and many officers who had touched Truman’s life over the years. Mario stood under the oak tree, waiting for the crowd to disband.

  The people dissipated, and the real pain of losing a husband and father was about to come crashing down on Truman’s wife and kids. As the family loaded into two limousines, Mario approached Charlotte Burnett. Taking her hand, Mario promised he would not rest until the person responsible for Truman’s death was brought to justice.

  Charlotte appeared exhausted as she gave Mario a kiss, thanking him for all the kind words he’d said during his speech. Then the tears flowed, and she whispered, “You get this godawful person and make him pay.”

  As a soldier in war, there wasn’t time to mourn. Bury your fellow comrade and continue fighting. Mario did the same—buried his partner and went to work catching bad guys.

  Mario had an hour before Olivia’s update on the bombing at the chief’s office. He and Howard headed to pay Ralph Givens, their partner in crime, a visit. They met in the lobby of the investment firm at One Shell Square. The prestigious Poydras Street address gave credibility to any firm willing to pay the outrageous lease. Inside, there was a mixed bag of trusted people. Stockbrokers telling people where to put their money for the best return. The only catch—they made a commission when a stock was purchased and sold. They didn’t care, as long as people kept buying and selling.

  Ralph Givens went to grammar school with Mario, then lost contact when he moved away. Later, they met again at Loyola University when he was in finance and Mario was in criminal law. Ralph skirted a hair-stroke away from breaking the law a few times. Made tuition his last two years of college making loans to freshmen students. Blowing their money on girls and beer, they’d come to Ralph for a loan until parents sent a monthly living expense check. They paid Ralph the principal and shameful interest and a week later borrowed again. Things went well until a guy couldn’t pay. Ralph got aggressive and knocked the fellow around. Mario stepped in and pursued forgiveness of the loan if the guy didn’t press charges.

  Howard ran a finger down the directory and found the investment company’s suite number. They took the elevator, and to their surprise, the company occupied the entire floor. The receptionist directed them to Ralph’s office, and they caught him off guard.

  “What the hell are you two doing here?”

  “We need to talk.” Mario closed the door.

  “We should have talked at a coffee shop.” Ralph looked around to see if any office workers had eyes on him. “I can’t have cops visit me at work. I handle a lot of money.”

  “No one knows we’re cops.” Howard buttoned his coat. Made sure his gun wasn’t visible.

  “Bullshit!” Ralph peeked through miniblinds at office workers. It was all in his head. They were too busy to be concerned who visited him. “What do you want that couldn’t be discussed on the phone?”

  Howard pushed Ralph into a desk chair. “We talked a few days ago. You said our money was safe.”

  Ralph squirmed in his seat. “It is.”

  “Then why is it not in the account?” Howard grabbed him by the necktie and made a fist.

  “Your money is safe.” Ralph made a fearful face. “I moved it to a mutual fund.”

  Howard gave a side look at Mario, not sure which man would use Ralph as a punching bag.

  Ralph begged, then explained. He moved folders around on the desk and opened one. Pointing out the twelve million was accounted for in a mutual fund.

  Howard exploded, wanting to know who gave him the authority to move the money. Ralph reminded them that when he set the account up in Singapore, someone had to be the administrator, so he named himself.

  “Guys, I’m an investment banker. I can’t let twelve million sit in an account and do nothing—I invested.”

  “It wasn’t your money.” Mario slammed his hand on the desk.

  As a reminder, Ralph pointed out. “It’s not your money either.”

  Things calmed down. Howard detailed the issues the money had brought on them. Ralph listened and studied them. The two detectives had concerns. What started as a scam to turn Lorenzo Savino on his Panama banker got two men killed and the money in Mario’s hands. The detectives second-guessed their actions with no plan to return the money.

  “Gentlemen.” Ralph offered a simple solution. “This Helena woman is asking for the cartel money. Transfer the money back to the Savino family account.”

  Mario looked at Howard. They considered and mumbled that it would take the cartel off their backs and no need to explain to the boss why they took the money.

  “With the return of the money—everyone is happy.” Howard gave a side look at Mario.

  “Except that problem with Julie Wong,” Mario pointed out. “Well—two out of three ain’t bad.”

  “One little problem.” Ralph expressed a devious grin. “I can return the money taken, every penny. What do I do with the rest?”

  The puzzled look on the two detectives’ faces told Ralph they had no clue that he was about to make them both rich.

  “The rest of the money?” Mario and Howard repeated.

  “Yes.” Ralph pulled a small calculator. “The market has been good.” He punched in some numbers. “A little more than a million-and-a-half dollars profit.”

  It took a few seconds for the windfall of money to sink in, but when it did, they both had different reactions. Howard was thrilled the funds could be returned. Mario, the cautious one, wanted to slam a chair over Ralph’s head. “What if the investment had lost a few million dollars?”

  Ralph responded with his usual cocky attitude. “But it didn’t.”

  “Holy shit, what have we done?” Mario paced the room.

  Ralph soothed their concerns. Suggested they split the money, open separate investment accounts, and sit on the money for a few years. Estimated they could earn a hundred thousand a year if the market continued in an upward direction. He stressed, there was no law against borrowing money form a drug lord to invest in the market.

  “Excluding the facts.” Mario wanted to keep his voice down, but it didn’t always work out that way. “The c
artel didn’t lend us the money; we stole Lorenzo’s money. He was a mob guy who owed the cartel millions.”

  Howard nudged Mario. “ We’re millionaires.” They both gave up a smile.

  Ralph handled everything. The Savino portion of the money was transferred that day from the Singapore bank to the Savino’s Panama account. An account for Mario and Howard opened with a little more than a million-and-a-half dollars. With the push of a button, all Lorenzo’s money was back in place, as if it never left.

  Chapter 11

  En route to headquarters, Mario got a phone call pushing the chief’s meeting to five P.M. He and Howard headed to Roxy Blum’s mid-city home. The drive over gave Mario time to fill Howard in on the plan to announce the discovery of Lorenzo’s twelve million dollars. Howard agreed it might work.

  Roxy was the lover of Glenn Macy, owner and publisher of Big Easy Voice, an underground newspaper. Roxy and Glenn would go to the end of the earths for Mario and Howard. The detectives kept Roxy’s secret and helped skyrocket Glenn’s Big Easy Voice subscriptions with exclusive stories no other newspapers had access to. Glenn and Roxy owed it all to Mario.

  Roxy Blum, a drag queen nightclub singer on Bourbon Street, met Glenn Macy in the club one night. They fell in love, and, as the saying goes, it was history from that point forward. The only obstacle was Glenn’s wife. It was still a work in progress living a double life.

  Mario knocked on the front door. Howard looked over the immaculate garden leading to the front door. A rose garden with annuals edged the concrete and large, well-trimmed bushes were umbrellaed by a giant oak tree. One of many that lined Esplanade Avenue leading to the entrance of City Park.

  “When the hell does someone get time for flowers?” Howard admired the front lawn.

  “I’m sure there is a gardener involved.” Mario knocked on the door again.

  The door opened. “Oh, my god, where have you two been?” Roxy hugged them. “Come in—come in.”

  One in the afternoon was a little early to call on someone who worked till four or five in the morning. Roxy was dressed in a silk robe, slippers with fuzzy feathers at the toe and a slight heel, a wig, and full makeup.

  Mario asked if she’d been to bed yet or was up early. She flipped her eyelashes, smiled, and changed the subject.

  “There’s my man.” Roxy reaching for Glenn’s hand when he entered the room dressed in black silk pajamas. Howard and Mario were outside their circle of friends but considered dear to the drama queen and her man. The detectives never judged their lifestyle and treated them respectfully.

  “Have a seat in the dining room,” Roxy insisted, pointing at chairs across from her and Glenn. “We’re about to have lunch, and we have plenty.”

  Howard, genuinely interested in the art and antiques, looked around the room. “Is that new?” he asked, pointing at a piece of art.

  “No, but it’s a new frame.” Roxy was impressed that Howard noticed something different about the picture.

  “How about that fancy chair?”

  “There, you see, Glenn. My new bargain caught Howard’s eye.” She gave Glenn a shake on his arm. “It’s a Hitchcock chair.”

  “Yeah, you should see the price tag on what Roxy calls a bargain.” Glenn frowned at the men, then smiled at Roxy.

  Glenn broke the chitchat. “So, what brings you here? Hopefully no murders in the neighborhood.”

  “Nothing like that,” Mario snapped back. “I come offering gifts.”

  “Last time you gave me a gift, my subscriptions jumped twenty-five percent.” Glenn chuckled. “I’m listening.”

  Mario suggested Glenn take notes; he had a lot to say and wanted the article accurate. The headline would read “Mob Boss Savino’s Money Found.” Glenn blinked rapidly and reached for a pad and his phone.

  “Have you laid out the front page yet?” he asked the person on the line. “Great; hold up. Save me two columns.”

  Mario put up three fingers and rolled his hand in a circle.

  Glenn smiled. “Make that three columns and run an extra five thousand copies.” Glenn turned back to Mario with pad and pen in hand.

  Mario spoke nonstop without interruption. Glenn took notes fast, occasionally putting his hand up for Mario to slow down, not to miss any details.

  Roxy poured coffee for everyone, and served a light dessert after a heavy lunch.

  Glenn barely talked during the dessert and wrote, flipping pages back and forth on his pad.

  Mario stopped the flipping back and forth by grabbing his hand. “How soon can the newspaper hit the streets?”

  “Two hours and it will be there, front and center at the newsstands.”

  Howard gave Mario a nod and pulled his gun from under his coat and laid it on the table. “Glenn, this is serious. If your source is ever revealed . . .” Howard paused. “I would hate to do it, but you’re dead.”

  Glenn and Roxy laughed until Mario said, “He’s not joking.”

  The detectives thanked them for lunch and got a hug from Roxy.

  A handshake from Glenn lasted longer than usual. “Trust is all I have in my business. My source for the story will never be revealed.”

  “Spread the word,” Mario said. “It’s your exclusive.”

  Chapter 12

  Mario dropped Howard at his limousine. His priority was to collect several copies of the Big Easy Voice’s latest addition for the meeting with Chief Parks.

  Mario headed back to One Shell Square. This time, he made a heads-up call to Ralph Givens. No need to surprise him twice in one day. On the way, he made a call to the chief. He got lucky, and she answered.

  Chief Parks was hesitant to follow Mario’s request to have the DEA join the evening briefing on Truman’s bombing. The DEA had no jurisdiction, but Mario insisted, and she trusted her detective. A call was made to Commander Sanchez—he agreed to meet.

  Mario bypassed the reception desk and went to Ralph’s office. A coworker said he’d return in a second. Mario waited. Looking out of the floor-to-ceiling window, he looked on the St. Charles Avenue side to see a plot of ground he’d loved as a kid, Audubon Zoo. It was a once-a-year visit, his mother said, but he pestered enough to squeeze in two. As an adult, Mario still loved visiting the zoo, only it was hard to find the time.

  Ralph came up from behind and startled him. “Looking to buy a house with your newfound money?”

  “This neighborhood?” Mario smirked. “Too rich for my blood.”

  Ralph moved over to a conference table, where they sat. Mario spelled out a problem he didn’t want to reveal in front of Howard. He detailed Olivia’s situation.

  Mario knew Ralph as a computer whiz going back to the early days of Microsoft. By the time home computers were widespread, he’d hacked into just about every model. That caused his first run-in with the law. Mario had kept him out of jail. Mario fished around and finally came out and asked if he was keen on today’s computer technology

  “Times have changed.” Ralph snickered. “But I’ve kept up.”

  “I’m sure you have.”

  “For personal knowledge.”

  Mario laughed. “Until you had a use for it.”

  “Bank accounts are password protected. If I sit in front of a computer long enough, I’ll get into every one of your friend Olivia’s accounts.”

  Ralph suggested that maybe Olivia went out of town and someone housesat. Allowing them time to crack passwords.

  Mario quickly shot that down. He shared his thoughts on a cleaning crew. The female-owned company passed Olivia’s house off to a woman at her church. He detailed his visit with Logan at Bee’s Computer Shop.

  Ralph rolled his eyes, a slight smirk on his face. “Young, a college student working at a computer shop. I’d look at him first.”

  Mario wrote down the routing and account numbers of Olivia’s bank account. Ralph questioned why the bank wouldn’t help. All Mario knew was the bank said the money was transferred by using her IP address, ID code, and password. Th
e bank was looking into it, but he didn’t think it was a priority.

  “If the guy is talented, he could tap into Olivia’s computer remotely and make it look like it was her computer doing the transaction,” Ralph tapped the table deep in thought. “I’ll work on the IP address and see if I can find where her money is parked.”

  Mario shook his hand in gratitude. Ralph reminded him he’d just come into a lot of money and could cover the loss for his friend.

  Mario made a face. “No, I want to catch this guy.”

  “Meaning the guy is in for an ass-kicking,” Ralph pointed out.

  Mario smiled. “Then justice would be served.”

  Mario departed with one task—to discover where Olivia kept her passwords and forward the info to Ralph. It could be kept in a Word document on her computer, in a notebook, or, like most people, just scribbled on pieces of paper. Even though he was on his way to a meeting Olivia would attend, he called her from the car.

  Loaded with the information Olivia provided, Mario called Ralph after parking the car at police headquarters. Once inside the building, phone reception was sketchy. Olivia said she kept passwords to the computer logins and websites neatly written in a black notebook.

  Ralph’s theory was that the book was out in the open, or the thief stumbled across it while cleaning. Either way, the guy didn’t wake up that morning thinking he’d rob someone by computer transfer. He assured Mario the person had a background in computer science and a degree in fraud. He suggested that Mario check Logan Taylor for any arrests. Ralph confirmed it wouldn’t take a computer science major to rip Olivia off, if the passwords were found.

  Ralph thought the guy stumbled across the black book, found the ID code to an investment account, and checked out her transactions. Armed with access to the computer, the bank website, and the password, it wouldn’t take much time to transfer money. With the homeowner’s computer and black book of codes, she would never know she was ripped off—until she checked her account.