William Bernhardt - Murder One

“Well, the … manner in which he was killed. The gruesomeness. The severing of his member.”

“Sounds like a gangland execution to you, huh?” He chuckled. “You watch too many movies, kid.”

“You’re probably right. Still—”

“Listen to me. I didn’t know this guy—what was his name?—McNaughton. Didn’t know him at all. They tell me he was investigatin’ me and my boys, but I didn’t know anything about it.”

“It’s … hard to imagine that you wouldn’t know …”

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve been investigated? Let me tell you—a lot. They’re always investigatin’ me. Anytime they got something big, something they can’t pin on anybody else, they come lookin’ for me.”

“Well, I’m sure they wouldn’t—”

“You seen that movie, Casablanca ?”

“Once or twice—”

“You remember when the French guy says, ‘Round up the usual suspects’? That’s like, the story of my life. Chief Blackwell says ‘Round up the usual suspects.’ And his boys all come scurrying to me.”

“Still …” Ben knew he was venturing into dangerous waters, but it was hard to interview a Mafia kingpin without getting into the shark tank. “The police file shows Joe McNaughton had been investigating your organization for several months prior to his death. He must’ve thought he was onto something.”

“Or maybe it was easier work than runnin’ around catchin’ real criminals. Did you know this McNaughton character?”

“No, I never met him.”

“Well, like I said, neither did I. But I hear some nasty stuff from my boys. They didn’t like him, and not just ’cause he was sniffin’ around our kennel. They thought he was up to somethin’.” He paused. “They thought he was dirty.”

McNaughton? The policeman’s hero? “Do you know why they thought that?”

“Not offhand.” Again he paused, but this time his voice became more introspective. “He’s not the first cop we’ve had snoopin’ around. Not by a long shot. A lot of the time, though, my boys are able to work out some kind of … accommodation.”

“And what does that mean?”

He shrugged. “Common sense. Business sense, that is. People get more done when they work together.”

“You wanted to work together with the cops who were investigating you?”

“Some of the cops were willing, let me tell you. And I was happy to have them. Nice to have a man on the inside.”

“Are you telling me you bought off the investigating detectives?”

Catrona did not immediately answer.

A light flickered in Ben’s brain. “Was McNaughton on the take? Is that what this is about?”

Catrona slowly elevated his massive chest. “You know, I don’t begrudge a man doin’ his job. But whatever else you may think about me, I’m a man of my word. I keep my promises. And I expect others to do the same. When people don’t keep faith with me … well, I just can’t tolerate that. I won’t tolerate that.”

“Are you suggesting there was something fishy about McNaughton’s investigation?”

“I read in the paper what they’ve been doin’ to your lady, that pretty little teenager. How they’ve jerked her chain. One day she’s free, the next day she’s not. Some of those self-righteous cops seem so determined to put her away, I can’t help but wonder if there isn’t a reason.”

“Like what?”

“Like maybe they don’t want any real investigatin’ done. Maybe they want her hung and dried and the case closed. Before someone figures out what was really goin’ on.”

Ben had a hard time grappling with Catrona as a conspiracy theorist. It was like Don Corleone meets The X-Files. “What do you think was really going on?”

“I don’t know. Wish I did. Like I said, I feel sorry for that woman. Hasslin’ her ’cause she worked in a strip club. It ain’t right.”

“It doesn’t bother you that she was a stripper?”

“No. Why should it? Hell, I like strippers. I own some strip joints, you know. Fact, I’m not sure, but I may own the one she used to work in. But you probably knew that already.”

No, Ben hadn’t. But it was certainly interesting. “Did you know Keri?”

“I don’t think I ever met her. But she seems like a good, honest, hardworking gal. I can admire that. Most strippers I know are hard workers, supportin’ a family, maybe some kids. And damn good lookin’, of course. Hell, I’d rather bump into a girl stripper than a lady lawyer any day.”

He picked up the racing form on the table, checking the list for the next race. “Fact is, I wanted to help that girl, after the police started spinnin’ her around. Broke my heart. Thought about sendin’ some of my boys out to assist her, or maybe sendin’ some money. But I knew if I did the press would find out and start suggestin’ that she was somehow tied into organized crime, which was the last thing on earth she needed.”

“You wanted to help Keri Dalcanton?”

“Yeah. So what, is that so strange? I like to help people. That’s why God put us here, isn’t it? “

“I’m not disagreeing. I just didn’t expect to hear those sentiments from you.”

“What, ’cause I’m the papers’ whipping boy? So what if I like a little gambling, a little action from the ladies? Does that mean I don’t have a heart? Does that mean I don’t want to help other people in need?”

“I suppose your … organization isn’t exactly renowned for its big heart.”

“Says who? That’s how the mob got started! It was a secret society formed to protect poor and oppressed Sicilians from the French Angevins in power. Did you know that?”

“Actually, I did. DeCarlo told me.”

“Well, that kid’s got some crazy ideas, but he at least understands what a family is supposed to be. He knows we started out helpin’ one another, and he thinks we still should. He’s trying to get us back to that. Let me tell you, he gives more money to charity than you’ve seen in your life.”

“It’s good publicity.”

“It’s good, period.” Catrona gazed out the glass window; the next race was starting. “Anyway, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Of course. Thanks for talking to me.”

“No problem. And listen.” He leaned a little closer and lowered his voice, as if imparting a great secret. “You know this Keri girl, right? If you can think of some way I can help her, you just let me know.”

“I’ll … bear that in mind.”

“Good. And listen. I understand you have to do some investigatin’. You got your client and a trial and all that. So don’t think it means you’re gonna wake up with your feet in concrete or anything, okay?”

Gee, thanks …

“But if I ever find out you’ve been doing anything more, like maybe buttin’ into my business or sayin’ things that could damage me or my family—” He put his hands on both of Ben’s shoulders and squeezed. Tightly. “Let me give you a news flash. The mob hasn’t changed that much.”

24

TO CALL THIS JOINT a closet would be to give it too much credit, Kirk mused, as he stared across the five-feet expanse at his host, who was soaking his feet in a porcelain pan, clamping a transparent gas mask to his mouth, and inhaling like a vacuum cleaner.

How did he end up in this dive? THE BODY BEAUTIFUL, the tiny sign on the front door said, although it was so small he missed it the first three times he passed by. It was easy to miss things this late at night, especially once you got away from the glittery bright lights of The Stroll’s main drag. Just as well—most people would want to miss this place, even the dark denizens of The Stroll. This shop was something else again. Something much more … extreme. Part innovating, part revolting.