Craig Johnson - Kindness Goes Unpunished

“Isn’t the reception tonight?”

“Yep.” I glanced at Vic. “But don’t you have to go to the opera?”

She rolled her eyes. “Puh-lease…”

I looked back at Katz. “Henry can translate.” I looked at the ledger to give him a little room. “Why didn’t you tell me William White Eyes is Billy Carlisle?”

“It’s IAD, special prosecutor for the DA’s office, and we really weren’t able to come forth with any of the information connecting the two.”

“Fair enough.” I lined up the suspects and started supposing. “Vince Osgood and Toy Diaz are in business.”

“It’s possible.” I looked at him, and he shrugged. “It’s likely.”

“Devon Conliffe, my daughter’s almost-fiance, was a hophead and a friend of Osgood.”

“Yes. And Devon was the money launderer.”

I nodded and stared at my coffee. “That makes sense. So, Osgood goes to bat for Shankar DuVall in his official capacity, leaving Carlisle/White Eyes to linger in Graterford.”

“Yes.”

“I have a question.” I placed my hands on the edge of the counter, bumped my finger guard, and felt the vibration all the way up to my elbow. “Who was Shankar DuVall’s lawyer?”

Katz thought for a moment. “Not your daughter.”

I smiled at him. “I figured there were other lawyers in Philadelphia; I was just wondering who it was?”

“Why?”

I thought about an itch I’d had in my head for the last few days. “I think there are more connections among all these people.” Katz scribbled in his pad. “So Carlisle/White Eyes did the cook, DuVall the muscle, Diaz the distribution, and Devon laundered the money while Osgood looked the other way.”

“That’s the way it’s headed.”

I thought about the things that weren’t adding up. “If Osgood sent Diaz’s brother Ramon up the river, why would Toy go into business with him?”

“It was not a happy family; if Oz hadn’t gotten rid of Ramon, Toy probably would have.”

“How did you find out about the money laundering?”

“We checked the files at Hunt and Driscoll; Devon was channeling large sums of money through clients’ accounts, but we’re having trouble finding all the numbers. You want to hear the kicker?” I continued looking at him. “They hired him on Osgood’s recommendation.”

“There’s got to be more.”

Katz studied me for a moment. “You’re thinking that more of these lawyers might be involved?”

“I don’t know.” I took a sip of my coffee since it had finally cooled enough to drink. “I’m just saying that part of this puzzle is still missing. Some connection is out there; somebody.” I thought about it, and it all made sense.

“Didn’t Meifert say Carlisle’s mother was killed when he was a kid?”

“Yes, it was a well-publicized case.” Katz gestured toward Vic. “Her father had that one.”

“Can you get me a psychological workup on Carlisle?”

“Absolutely, but why?”

“I think he was the one at the Franklin Institute the night Cady was hurt, and I think he’s the one that’s been sending me love letters, but I don’t think he threw Devon Conliffe off the Benjamin Franklin Bridge.”

Katz made a face. “Then why was he following you this morning?”

“Protection.”

He made a show of looking at my battered body. “You sure about that?”

I shrugged. “I’m the one that pulled my gun and tried to arrest him.”

“So, who’s he protecting you from?”

“I don’t know; Osgood, maybe Diaz.” The food arrived, and the usual turned out to be chicken livers with onions, bacon, and fresh mozzarella. Dorothy would have been pleased. “Billy Carlisle is a Philadelphia drug chemist, but William White Eyes has a romance with the West, a west of which Cady and I may be emblematic.” I reached out with my broken finger and gently tapped the leather surface of the ledger. “I think this is going to be a very detailed record of William White Eyes’ business dealings with Toy Diaz.” I took another bite of the usual. “Anyway, we have to go see an Indian.”

Katz picked up his fork and cleaved off a section of his salmon salad. “We need that third note.”

I nodded and chewed. “That’s why we’re going to see the Indian.”

The swans and fish the Indians were throttling were still shooting water into the air of Logan Circle when we got there. Katz pulled the unmarked car into a no-parking zone in front of the Four Seasons and cut the engine. As we got out, I waved at the same doorman who had waited with me after I’d been ejected from the back bumper of the Expedition. “Hello, Sheriff.”

“Howdy, Lou.”

We’d gotten to know each other pretty well while I’d bled on his sidewalk. He came over from his official station and assisted me with the door. “How you feelin’?”

“Fit as a fiddle and ready for love.” I reached over the top of the car. “Asa, you still have that photo of Billy Carlisle?”

Katz pulled it from the file on the seat and handed it to me. “Lou, you strike me as a guy who doesn’t miss much.” I held up the photocopy. “You ever see this guy?” He glanced at the photo. “Some very bad people on both sides of the law are looking for this kid. I’m just trying to bring him in safe.”

Lou really looked at the photo this time. “Yeah, I seen him.” The old man tipped his hat back and looked over toward the fountain. “’Bout ’n hour ago.”

Vic was first. “Are you kidding me?”

“Crossed the street against traffic and sat over by the fountain for a while, then moved on.”

“An hour ago?” He smiled at Vic and nodded. She turned back to me. “Why the fuck would he do that?”

I looked at the Logan Circle noble savage in profile. “He changed the note.”

I thanked Lou, and Katz gave him a card and told him that if he saw the young man again to give the police a call immediately. We crossed with the traffic and pulled up in front of the Indian that represented the Delaware River. Vic walked a little past us and placed her hands on her hips. “Christ, it does look like Henry.”

I sat on the bench. Katz sat beside me, his suit looking better than it would have on a mannequin. “So?”

“I would imagine it’s taped to the underside of the seat. Why don’t you look?” He stooped down, reached beneath, and pulled something off.

Vic walked back. “Why this bench?”

“It was the one your mother and I sat on after I questioned the guard at the Institute.” She nodded and didn’t say anything, and I started wondering how far the competitive mother/ daughter thing went. “I think he’s been following me since I got here, the night Cady was hurt.” I looked at Katz. “Aren’t you going to dust that?”

He ignored me, thumbed a fingernail under the flap to break the seal, and opened it to reveal the same stock as the others.

I leaned over for a look, but Vic kicked my boot. “You and my mother come to the park a lot?” I raised an eyebrow and kicked her back.

Katz handed me the note. “I’d say your assessment that he changed it after we took the ledgers is correct.”

It was typewritten with the same dropout “O.” SEE PAGE 72. LOOK WEST, YOU CAN FIGHT CITY HALL.

Katz said he would catch up with Gowder and then meet me with the ledgers at the Academy later so that Henry could have a look at them. I wanted to get over to the hospital, but it was late in the afternoon and I had run out of time. I needed a shower and could get dressed at Cady’s for the reception, thereby killing two magpies with one stone. When Vic and I got there, Lena was gone and so was Dog. There was a note on the counter, along with a roasted chicken and a six-pack of beer in the refrigerator.