Street Justice Page 7

  It was a little before noon, when Mario and Howard arrived at Riverside Inn. The men hadn’t seen their old detective friend, Zack Nelson, in a few months. They went directly to the dining room and found Zack and Dave Thorton with their lady friends at their usual table. A surprise visit was welcomed, and Emma Lou and Pearl Ann jumped to their feet to greet their favorite limousine driver and police officer.

  “I hope you’re here for breakfast and a visit and not come to recruit our boys for some police stakeout.” Emma Lou still remembered the risk Zack put himself in by assisting Mario a year earlier.

  A waiter saw the detectives and gave them hugs, then fetched two cups and poured coffee. The group had breakfast and talked about the good times and bad times they had been through together. It’d been two years since the last murder at the living quarters of Riverside Inn. About the same time Dr. Ross, who was responsible for the murders, went missing. The four men knew about his demise and kept all the details to themselves. It was best for the women, other residents, and police to think he’d skipped town for Las Vegas or some exotic island.

  Zack, a retired cop of thirty years with the New Orleans Police Department, picked up on Mario glancing at his phone. “Waiting for a call?”

  “Old man, do you ever stop working the job?” Mario asked playfully.

  “Never.”

  Pearl Ann chimed in, making a wrinkled nose glance at Zack. “At the mall, he sits on a bench and points out shoplifters.”

  “You’re an official mall snitch?” Howard got a round of laughs.

  Mario’s ringer was off on his phone, but when the face lit up, Logan’s name appeared. He waved his hand for silence and took the call. Logan agreed to fix Mario’s friend’s computer. Directions and a time were set.

  “Did he bite?” Howard asked.

  “Like a largemouth bass.”

  “I know that look,” Zack said. “I see mischief.”

  “No. Revenge.” Mario’s eyes glanced Zack’s way. “You’re getting your computer fixed at five P.M. today.”

  Zack smiled. “Great, if I owned one.”

  “You’ll have a computer this afternoon.”

  Mario dialed Ralph’s number and told him the plan was a go. He’d meet at his office in an hour and go over details. Ralph was confident he’d be finished setting up Zack’s laptop by the time Mario arrived.

  The details were discussed with Zack and Dave. The women listened carefully and were horrified how someone could take advantage of Olivia. The plan was simple, and Zack added a few things to the storyline, making it hard for Logan not to react to such an easy score.

  Ralph met Mario and Howard in the lobby of his building. They parked themselves in the ground floor coffee shop. Howard fetched Ralph some lunch, while Ralph finished setting up the websites on Zack’s computer.

  While Ralph ate a sandwich, he went over the functions of the websites he’d set up. It had to have easy access, especially for someone Zack’s age. The laptop opening page had several icons. Fox News, CNN, a dating site, and the most important, the homepage of the investment company he worked for, with Zack’s fake account. It was loaded with 55,000 dollars taken from the detective’s newfound investment capital—the profit from holding onto the Savino family funds.

  Ralph started with opening the laptop, clicking on the investment site, and entering the ID number and password. One click, the account was open, and there sat Zack’s money. If the scam worked, Logan would transfer some of or all the funds to his offshore account.

  The ID was named something an old person would do in caps. “MY COMPUTER” and the password was “Emmalou72” his girlfriend’s name and age.

  “Here’s the sting,” Ralph said. “Zack will give the password to Logan in all lower case. Making the site show a login error.”

  “You think it can be that easy?” Mario questioned if the high-tech kid would fall for such bullshit.

  “Logan is a slimeball. He should be ready to take advantage of Zack, an old, incoherent guy in an assisted living facility, clueless about computers.”

  “It all depends on how good Zack can sell the con,” Howard said.

  Ralph gave a nod. “Correct. It’s up to Zack to sell it.”

  At four P.M., Ralph opened the laptop to the guest Wi-Fi in Zack’s room. A few practices and Zack assured everyone he was ready. The first thing done was to open the investment account and take a screenshot that was sent to Ralph’s email address. Then he mirrored Zack’s computer to watch everything happening, as he sat in Emma Lou’s room down the hall. The screenshot was shown to Mario with a time stamp and a balance of fifty-five thousand dollars in Zack’s fake account.

  Mario licked his lips. “We just need this asshole to bite.”

  At five o’clock sharp, an announcement for Zack Nelson to come to the front desk blasted over the intercom. Ralph, Mario, and Howard took their places in Emma Lou’s room.

  Zack approached the front desk and met Logan with a handshake. Logan appeared to be a nice young man, asking questions as they walked.

  “Got a little computer problem?” Logan asked.

  “Yeah,” Zack said. “I always have trouble with passwords. As long as I can login to my account, I love this internet stuff.”

  “I’m sure I can fix you up.”

  “I really appreciate your help,” Zack slipped him a hundred-dollar bill. “I’m prepared to pay more should it take longer than an hour.”

  Logan gave a smile and a pat on Zack’s back. “I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry.”

  Zack opened the door to his room and showed Logan the computer. “I’m trying to get into my investment account.” Zack clicked on the icon and handed him a piece of paper with the ID and the password.

  Logan typed in the password, and it quickly came back as an error in red letters. “Did you try to reset your password?”

  Zack gave him a cross-eyed look. “How do you do that?”

  Logan clicked on an email icon, and Zack’s Gmail account opened.

  “I’m going to finish my lunch,” Zack said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, find my thirty-two, one?”

  “What’s that?” Logan asked.

  “The balance in my account is thirty-two thousand, one hundred dollars,” Zack pointed at a pad with the amount written down. “It’s right there: thirty-two, one.”

  Logan gave him a smile and a nod. “Sure thing.”

  Zack left, pulling the door closed. Logan went to work on resetting the password. Within thirty seconds, an email came across, and a new password was set up. He typed in the information, and there it was, Zack’s account.

  From Ralph’s computer in Emma Lou’s room, the men watched Logan root through Zack’s account.

  “He’s looking at entries,” Ralph said, following the cursor on the screen. “Bingo. He stopped on the balance.”

  In Zack’s room, Logan’s eyes widened as he looked twice at the number on the pad, then back at the screen. “The old fart has no clue how much money is in the account,” he whispered to himself.

  Logan opened another window and typed in the website address to his offshore account, then typed the ID number and password into the popup boxes. He wrote “55,000” on a pad, then subtracted 32,100, and transferred 22,900 dollars to his account.

  With a few strokes of the keys, Ralph captured the offshore account website, the ID, and the password. Without interfering with Zack’s computer or Logan’s illegal scheme.

  In Emma Lou’s room, Ralph rejoiced. “I have all the information to get into this asshole’s offshore account.”

  Mario questioned. “Sure?”

  “This kid is good but not in the same league as me,” Ralph said. “I’m going to create a backdoor, grab his money, and never leave a footprint.”

  Mario made a face. “Not sure what that crap means, but if it gets Olivia’s money, I’m in.”

  Logan erased the history on the laptop, including websites and passwords as Zack came back to the room. �
�Were you able to help me out?”

  “Yes, sir,” Logan politely spoke. He wrote the new password on the pad and took the piece he’d used to subtract the amount to leave in Zack’s account. No clues left behind.

  Zack tried the new password, and his account opened. “There’s my money.”

  “All thirty-two thousand, one hundred dollars,” Logan said, giving a side glance at Zack.

  By the time Logan walked out the front door, another dilemma had come up. Ralph questioned if he should transfer only the amount taken from Zack and Olivia.

  Mario looked at the screen. “This asshole has been at it for a while, he has over two hundred thousand dollars in his offshore account.” Mario’s eyes rolled around deep in thought. “Leave one dollar. Like we did with Savino.”

  Howard chuckled with a side glance toward Mario. “It really pisses them off.”

  Chapter 19

  Before Mario could contact Olivia about the recovery of her money, she called him. Deep into the bomb investigation, she discovered something remarkable and refused to talk by phone. If they were going to meet, it had to be over food as they had all worked through lunch. They agreed on pizza, and the detectives were to meet at Olivia’s home in one hour.

  No quarreling about the order. These two detectives dined in, took out, or had delivered pizza from Venezia Restaurant on Carrollton Avenue.

  The order was picked up, and they shot over to Olivia’s house about three miles away. Olivia was home, and the dining room table was set with paper plates, a lot of napkins, and cold beer. All heads were into their pizza, when Mario broke the silence. “I have some good news.”

  “Me too,” Olivia said. “Maybe more disturbing than good.”

  Mario went first and gave Olivia the news and a check from the brokerage account that Ralph had setup. A few guidelines were discussed. Deposit the money, change her bank password every thirty days, and keep her black book of ID codes under lock.

  Olivia said she’d learned her lesson and was grateful for the return of the money but stopped short of asking how they recovered the money. “I prefer not to know how many laws were broken to get my money back. Thank you both.”

  They finished the pizza and moved to the living room with their beers. Olivia put on plastic gloves, the type she used at work. Opening her briefcase, she pulled out a plastic bag. Inside was a cell phone. “Everything found in Leon’s pockets was sent to me at forensics.”

  She held the phone closer for Mario to observe. “It’s one of those prepaid phones.”

  “He could have picked it up at any one of a hundred stores in town,” Howard said.

  “My concern is the pictures,” Olivia said. She accessed the photos and widened a picture of Leon standing in Lafayette Square with Mayor Wallace Jackson.

  “What the hell?” Mario said, getting a closer look.

  She flipped to another picture. Wallace handed off something to Leon in a deceptive way. Both looking to see if anyone was watching.

  Olivia’s research showed that the first picture was taken two days before Truman’s death and a second picture the day after his death. The second picture had the mayor pointing a finger into Leon’s face. One could easily see it was an argument.

  Howard’s concern was who took the picture. Mario questioned how a snapshot was made so close. Olivia suggested someone had hidden with Leon’s phone in the bushes. Based on the closeness and upward angle, it came from about eight feet away.

  Mario questioned Olivia like a detective, asking why she thought the images were tied to Truman. She hit them with another bombshell. Leon’s full name was Leon T. Mason, trained in explosives by the United States Army. He was also the half-brother of Mayor Wallace Jackson.

  Mario’s face drained. “You’re sure?”

  She nodded her head. Leon’s Army clearance listed personal history. Olivia called an old military friend to access the records. Wallace’s father died when he was eight. His mother remarried, and Leon was born two years later as Leon Mason.

  Mario gave Olivia a sharp corner eye glance.

  “You’re not the only one with connections,” she smiled.

  Mario praised Olivia for an outstanding job. He had her text the pictures to his number, then she deleted the message she’d sent from the prepaid cell phone.

  “Can you sit on this phone?” Mario asked. “Until we can sort things out?”

  Olivia gave the perfect answer. “What phone?”

  The question of who took the pictures and what the meeting was about were Mario’s first thoughts. Did Barry take the pictures? He was dead, so he’d be no help. They could only hope the third member of the group, Jay, snapped the photos and could give them the answers.

  Olivia flipped through the pictures again. “The mayor handing something off to Leon doesn’t mean he killed anyone.”

  Mario’s eyes rolled upward. “Leon and Barry, explosive experts, both are dead. With them out of the way, there are no witnesses to the bombing.”

  “Is it possible the mayor killed his own brother?” Olivia’s frown showed she didn’t want to believe it.

  “It gives Mayor Wallace Jackson motive,” Mario said. “So, he’s a suspect.”

  That night Howard flopped at Mario’s apartment, in case another attempt to take out Mario was planned. He slept on the sofa with one eye open most of the night, getting little sleep. Roberto Ferrari consumed his attention, making his mind speed with random thoughts of Roberto’s next move. A man they’d never met had a contract out on Mario and probably Howard too. A long-running problem in the drug world, when one head of business was taken out, was that the chain of command up the ladder wanted revenge for shutting off the money supply.

  Day two of Mario and Howard’s break from work found them at Another Broken Egg Cafe having breakfast. Their conversation went wildly in different directions and always came back to how they were to handle Roberto Ferrari. It ended with the two men butting heads, Howard demanding he’d handle the problem, alone. Roberto, and any high-ranking soldier in the organization, would never bother them again. His words were convincing and to Mario showed a concern. The tone was emphatic without doubt or fear of consequence. Howard’s motto was that of a real assassin—there had to be witnesses to be charged with a crime. Howard never left an eyewitness alive.

  It had taken a year before Mario drew the lines between the dots and put Howard on a rooftop, where he took out Jack with a single bullet to his head. With a SWAT team surrounding the house, Zack had been held hostage by Jack, a man who controlled the most dreaded gang in the city. Police moved too slowly for Howard’s liking; he handled the situation himself.

  Howard, on a rooftop, watched a SWAT team on hold while some commander tried to talk Jack out. Zack was already injected with enough juice in his veins to cause cardiac arrest. If it weren’t for Howard, Zack would have been dead. One shot with a silencer on the end of his high-powered rifle ended the problem. He crept off the roof, down an alley. With the gun broken down and hidden, he passed the police barricades, got in his limo, and pulled away from the scene unnoticed.

  Howard was never clear when discussing his background, especially with Mario. How was he recruited? In what way did Ben Stein and Chief Parks play a part in getting him into an undercover operation for the New Orleans Police Department? Fronted as a limo driver? A brilliant move, unexpected. One thing Mario knew for sure: Howard didn’t come up through the ranks, because no one ever remembered him at the police academy or on foot patrol. He appeared one day as a limo driver with a diverse background from the United Kingdom, and next, he was working undercover. Stranger things had happened on the police force, so Mario never questioned when Howard was assigned to his investigation team. One thing he knew for sure: Howard would always have his back.

  “Let’s settle one score now,” Howard said. “Give Adrianna a call.”

  Mario questioned the move. Telling Adrianna the cartel’s money was back in the Savino family account could set off a war.
Putting him in a mafia struggle to keep their money and the DEA wanting to seize the money.

  “Eliminate one group of people who want you dead,” Howard said. “Let the cartel, mafia, and DEA fight over the money.”

  Mario made the call to Adrianna; she wasn’t happy. It was another obstacle to get to their money. She’d try to sell it to her boss, Helena Acosta. Mario didn’t hesitate to throw his attitude in her face. Pointing out the money was in the same place as the day Lorenzo died, only a few weeks had passed. “Deal with it!” He hung up, which evidently pissed her off even more.

  The breakfast ended with Mario contacting his new homeless friend, Cyrus, to seek out Jay, in hopes that he was the one taking the pictures of the mayor and Leon.

  Howard planned to take advantage of the unexpected time off from work to visit friends. When Mario asked if his visit took him through New Jersey and a call on Roberto, he didn’t answer.

  Chapter 20

  Mario had no plans to tell anyone at police headquarters regarding the meeting between the mayor and his brother until he had reliable proof that something illegal went down. Slipping money to a homeless guy, if money passed hands, wasn’t a crime. Unless it was a payoff, and it was Mario that pushed that thought. Even then, he must be careful. The mayor had many friends on the police force and in city hall.

  Mario drove to Canal Street and Claiborne Avenue, the start of the homeless tent city. A half a mile down was the fabulous French Quarter, where music played twenty-four hours a day, drinks flowed like New Year’s Eve, and money exchanged hands like an open-air casino. How could the politicians of the city drive past this area every day and do nothing? The mayor, elected on the merit of cleaning up drugs and finding corporate sponsors to convert old warehouses into a walk-in clinic and housing for these people, didn’t follow through with his promise, once elected.

  Mario parked the town car and took to foot through the makeshift cardboard boxes these people called home. He got lucky and found Cyrus pushing his cart up Canal Street, looking down at the sidewalk for money or something valuable.