I’ll be damned,” he said. “Now where are you?”
“Homicide. Special detail right now. Marta Borlig’s working it with me.”
“Damn, ain’t the department getting tricky?” He studied me a few seconds, then leaned forward on the table, his hands folded together. “Those four kills?”
“Uh-huh. Smell anything?”
“If I did I would have reported it. Nobody knows a thing.”
His eyes watched me shrewdly, and I said, “There’s another interesting angle.”
“That’s what I was waiting for you to say. Loefert and the others showing up?”
“That’s right,” I agreed. “What does it look like to you?”
“They’re out of place around here, that’s what it looks like. The only rackets going on are small stuff. Numbers, a few books, that sort of thing. A few hustlers work around, but it’s all normal procedure, and not big enough to crack down on. Hell, nobody’s got enough money in this neighborhood to lay on hard.”
“But they’re here, so it must mean something else.”
The elderly cop leaned back and frowned at the ceiling. “I got an idea that could connect”
“Oh?”
He lowered his eyes and steadied them on mine. “Remember that guy… Gus Wilder, the one who jumped bail in Toledo when he was going to testify against the Gordon-Carbito mob?”
“I saw the flyers and read the news accounts.”
Ralph bobbed his head. “He lived two blocks over for five years. Still got a brother there. The brother’s straight… runs a dry cleaning shop, but I’m thinking they’re watching him to see if Wilder makes a contact”
“Why?”
Callahan grinned at me. “Things you brass cops seem to forget. The Gordon-Carbito mob upstate did the local boys a favor once… a big one. Could be now the locals are returning it by keeping an eye out for Wilder. If he talks the upstate combo will fall.”
“A possibility,” I agreed. I stood up and pushed the chair back. “Keep your ears open… I’ll appreciate it. If you need a contact, try Marta Borlig, only keep it on the q.t that she’s on the force.”
“Will do, Joe.”
“Thanks for your time.”
“Don’t mention it.” I said good night and went downstairs to look for a cruising cab.
My morning reports were finished at nine and I handed them to Mack Brissom. “Want some coffee? I’m meeting Marty at the diner.”
“Can’t do, friend. I’m tied up with that Montreal thing. A cross check on the ballistics came in and the gun used in Montreal was the same used in an attempted bank heist in Windsor a week earlier and to kill a gas station attendant in Utica four days after the Montreal bit”
“That’s not our jurisdiction,” I said.
“Yeah, I know. But the gun was found in a B.M.T. subway train by a passenger and turned in. No prints, unregistered and probably deliberately left there. It could be a red herring dodge to keep the action here while the killer is miles away, but we have to push it all the way.”
“Any of the money showing up yet?”
“Nothing. Lousy thing is, who could tell? Only part of the loot was in bills big enough to have the serial numbers recorded. It’s like the Brinks job… they’ll hold off until things quiet down before dumping the stuff.”
“Well, have fun.”
Mack didn’t seem to hear me. He shook his head, looking out the window. “Screwy deal, that one. The bank heist was a bust because four detectives were on the premises cashing their checks and stopped it. The Montreal job took a lot of planning… more than one single week. That was a top operation.”
“Maybe the guy who used the gun was brought in just to give them cover,” I suggested.
“Ah, I don’t know. It smells. It’s real sour. We got a tipoff from Canada that something had been in the wind a long time. Two mobsters from the States had been spotted up there a couple months earlier and sent back across the line, persona non grata. The day after the job an abandoned American automobile was found three
“Homicide. Special detail right now. Marta Borlig’s working it with me.”
“Damn, ain’t the department getting tricky?” He studied me a few seconds, then leaned forward on the table, his hands folded together. “Those four kills?”
“Uh-huh. Smell anything?”
“If I did I would have reported it. Nobody knows a thing.”
His eyes watched me shrewdly, and I said, “There’s another interesting angle.”
“That’s what I was waiting for you to say. Loefert and the others showing up?”
“That’s right,” I agreed. “What does it look like to you?”
“They’re out of place around here, that’s what it looks like. The only rackets going on are small stuff. Numbers, a few books, that sort of thing. A few hustlers work around, but it’s all normal procedure, and not big enough to crack down on. Hell, nobody’s got enough money in this neighborhood to lay on hard.”
“But they’re here, so it must mean something else.”
The elderly cop leaned back and frowned at the ceiling. “I got an idea that could connect”
“Oh?”
He lowered his eyes and steadied them on mine. “Remember that guy… Gus Wilder, the one who jumped bail in Toledo when he was going to testify against the Gordon-Carbito mob?”
“I saw the flyers and read the news accounts.”
Ralph bobbed his head. “He lived two blocks over for five years. Still got a brother there. The brother’s straight… runs a dry cleaning shop, but I’m thinking they’re watching him to see if Wilder makes a contact”
“Why?”
Callahan grinned at me. “Things you brass cops seem to forget. The Gordon-Carbito mob upstate did the local boys a favor once… a big one. Could be now the locals are returning it by keeping an eye out for Wilder. If he talks the upstate combo will fall.”
“A possibility,” I agreed. I stood up and pushed the chair back. “Keep your ears open… I’ll appreciate it. If you need a contact, try Marta Borlig, only keep it on the q.t that she’s on the force.”
“Will do, Joe.”
“Thanks for your time.”
“Don’t mention it.” I said good night and went downstairs to look for a cruising cab.
My morning reports were finished at nine and I handed them to Mack Brissom. “Want some coffee? I’m meeting Marty at the diner.”
“Can’t do, friend. I’m tied up with that Montreal thing. A cross check on the ballistics came in and the gun used in Montreal was the same used in an attempted bank heist in Windsor a week earlier and to kill a gas station attendant in Utica four days after the Montreal bit”
“That’s not our jurisdiction,” I said.
“Yeah, I know. But the gun was found in a B.M.T. subway train by a passenger and turned in. No prints, unregistered and probably deliberately left there. It could be a red herring dodge to keep the action here while the killer is miles away, but we have to push it all the way.”
“Any of the money showing up yet?”
“Nothing. Lousy thing is, who could tell? Only part of the loot was in bills big enough to have the serial numbers recorded. It’s like the Brinks job… they’ll hold off until things quiet down before dumping the stuff.”
“Well, have fun.”
Mack didn’t seem to hear me. He shook his head, looking out the window. “Screwy deal, that one. The bank heist was a bust because four detectives were on the premises cashing their checks and stopped it. The Montreal job took a lot of planning… more than one single week. That was a top operation.”
“Maybe the guy who used the gun was brought in just to give them cover,” I suggested.
“Ah, I don’t know. It smells. It’s real sour. We got a tipoff from Canada that something had been in the wind a long time. Two mobsters from the States had been spotted up there a couple months earlier and sent back across the line, persona non grata. The day after the job an abandoned American automobile was found three
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