Cafe Underground Presents
Lena was in the kitchen preparing linguine with clam sauce with KMHD's jazz turned loud in the living room. The sexy saxophone wailed through the apartment. Andi waited until it’s final pumping surge before turning it down and phoning Judith-Anne Chapman.
"What do ya want?" Judith-Anne demanded as a hello.
"It's Andi Wicksham.”
"Are we going to meet?"
"I just met somebody a friend yours named Jamie referred to me."
"Small world. Jamie, some guy from work, right? He's OK." was Judith-Anne's off-hand response. "He asked who could help and I knew you were involved."
Andi was relieved the detail checked. "Cool. We should talk. Are you free tomorrow? Late morning?"
"I'm up late." Chapman assured her. "Mid-night, two o'clock isn't too late for me."
"It’s too late for me and mine." Andi admitted. "Make it morning. My office? Your house? You wanna pick a place?" It felt like pulling teeth.
"Do you know the Eagle?" Judith-Anne demanded. It was a leather bar on the west side.
"Yeah." hazarded Andi cautiously. "Meet there?"
"Start there." Judith-Anne responded. "Ask Tony the bartender where to find Cassius. You'll wander a little before we meet."
"OK." Andi responded, doubly glad she'd opted out of doing it at night--evidently Judith-Anne was going to jerk her around before answering questions. "When? Eleven-thirty?" Andi offered.
Judith-Anne could give tit for tat. "Make it eleven."
The phone hung up in her ear. Smouldering, she tried Ramirez both at the station and home but had to leave messages before returning to the kitchen in a mood it took two and a half glasses of wine and a decent amount of teasing to improve. People like Judith-Anne put lumps in mattresses--no doubt Andi would toss and turn until dawn.
Saturday morning, Andi emerged from dreamland groggy and a little worse for wear. She pulled a pillow over her head and growled at Cheerful Miss Lena who wondered playfully if Andi's toes were as nibblable as they looked. After a shower and breakfast Andi faced the phone call to Ramirez about Sam.
Ramirez explained the drill of Witness Protection in an irony-laced tone--first he'd have to get Max on board, Max could bring in the DA; it was the DA who had the ear of the federal prosecutor who might or might not authorize witness protection. “Protection’s more a empty promise we use for manipulation than anything we really use.”
She called Janice Thompson, promising to underwrite her fee. Sam needed somebody in his corner so he wouldn't get discarded in Max’s rush. She gave a silent "thank you" to Armando for the money.
Next, she left Francois both Thompson's and Ramirez' numbers so he could have Sam waiting in some obscure coffee shop.
Andi dressed in levi's, work shirt, denim jacket and lavender bandanna and got Lena out the door by half-past ten. They cruised Northwest's 23ed killing time, making playfully catty comments about signs and storefront displays. Lena sported a handful of rings in each ear and a stud in her nose, a grey cowboy hat graced her red splashed hair and she wore an orange Raggedy Ann smock over grey leggings and violet, paint-spattered blouse.
Evidently Judith-Anne was a control freak of the hard-edged persuasion. Lena was along to make it two against one and remind Andi there were more important issues than rubbing the woman's nose in her attitude.
Eleven o'clock saw them back on Burnside, walking up to the harshly painted decor of the Eagle. Inside, three androgenous souls, pale even for Portland’s night-folk, were well on their way toward alcoholic oblivion, served, though obviously disdained, by the muscled, tattooed, and pierced bar keep in a cut-off tee shirt and red bandanna.
"You Tony?" Andi asked bluntly.
"Usually." he leaned back to look down his nose at her.
"How can I find Cassius?" Andi asked bluntly. Lena stood at her elbow like a second.
"Always a good question." the bar-keep smirked.
"Is there a good answer?" Andi gave a hostile look. She wasn't in the mood for being jerked at every turn.
"Go buy a purple daisy at the cart across the street and come back this way. A kid’ll give you a flier for a show." The bar keep practiced his bored look, shrugged and turned away to polish a glass.
Andi shook her head in disgust; not even bad TV shows had plots this stupid, but she and Lena crossed with the light, paid six-bits for a slightly shopworn, single purple bloom and came back to have a punk-looking adolescent with green hair shove yellow flyers in their hands. The kid disappeared and they leaned against the brickwork, examining the sheets for instructions.
Lena's had an address only a few blocks away scribbled on the back in red ballpoint. "She's looking down at us from some window laughing her head off." grumbled Andi, staring up at the buildings above.
"Chill, mi amiga. It’s an adventure. Just because Chapman think’s she Mata Hari is no reason not to have a good time." Lena slipped on a pair of tear-drop sunglasses set with rhinestones and gave a playful poke in the ribs. "Lighten up. It’s a spy game."
Andi gave her a fake smile complete with batting eyelids, pinched her lips closed and stalked to their rendezvous. The address was a half-remodeled storefront they could peek into through a dusty window, but there was nobody home, just a few scraps of plywood, a pile of debris and two sawhorses. Andi pounded, but knew it was hopeless. There wasn't an obvious way around back. She stepped to the curb to look up the windows across the street.
At that moment the phone at the booth set into an alcove next-door rang. Lena gave a questioning glance, but Andi was already reaching, her face as grim as a black and white TV show about World War II.
"Is this for me?" Andi demanded.
"Who else would answer it?" came Judith-Anne's sarcastic voice.
"I don't enjoy being yanked like I was on a leash." Andi's tone pegged out somewhere well beyond surly.
"I didn't know who your bob was. It took a call to get her cleared."
"Bob?" Andi asked, her bad mood as shiny as the day it left the showroom.
"Not a biker type, huh? ‘Bitch on back’...your sidekick." Judith-Anne sounded bored with explaining. "Across the street. The apartment with a maroon awning."
Andi turned and looked.
"We'll buzz you in. Go upstairs until you see a water glass on the banister's newel-post, turn right down the hall. Somebody will let you in."
"Don't you think this crap is a little over the top?" Andi complained, but Judith-Anne had already hung up. She glared at Lena who returned a warm, wide smile.
Andi passed on the instructions and slowly strolled to the corner to cross with the light. Let Judith-Anne wait a minute or two longer--it wasn't much, but it was all she could do to thumb her nose.
The door's buzzer started chattering as they came to the awning. Lena pulled it open while Andi ran her eyes down the panel of doorbell buttons--all numbered, no names. The door was old, wide and oak, with beveled glass and a tarnished brass kick-plate. Inside, the floor was terrazzo that had been the cat's meow a century ago and undoubtedly known better maintenance some decades ago. Oak wainscoting surrounded them, the ceiling was detailed with the old embossed metal of that bygone era, the banisters and stairs were oak and there was a large plate glass mirror hanging over a long, narrow table set against the wall. An old maroon runner of expensive carpet in need of steam cleaning and crying out for a vacuum, led up the middle of the stairs.
It was a classic residence of a by-gone era. The lobby was hushed, not even the traffic noise seemed to penetrate. An out of period set of cheap mailboxes hung on the wall. No names were posted there either.
Lena waited until Andi surveyed the lobby and cautiously tried the unmarked door at its rear. Finally, getting a approving nod, she started up the maroon-carpeted stairs.
The water glass waited at the third floor with hallways stretching both ways. The silence so noticeable below had followed them. Whoever lived here didn't listen to salsa or rock turned up to ten, maybe they only rented to retired librarians who'd gone deaf and dumb.
Andi hung back six or eight feet while Lena walked ahead. They were almost at the end of the hall when a door opened at Andi's elbow.
A thin young man gave them a hostile looking over. He was almost morbidly thin, of medium height with brown hair and clothes looking like they'd avoided his notice after being slept in last night. His face was lightly fuzzed from either not shaving or an abortive attempt at growing a beard. Andi suppressed any look of surprise, simply leveling what she hoped was a withering stare. The man simply invited her in with a nod of his head, stepping back cautiously to hold the door like a bodyguard or butler.
Lena stood defensively beside Andi, as tightly wound as the gaunt young man at the door. "Is Judith-Anne here?" she demanded.
Andi suppressed a smile. Over the summer they'd talked about good-cop/bad-cop tactics to throw an opponent curves, but this was the first time Lena'd stepped in so aggressively.
The young man looked from Andi to Lena. He flexed the hand not on the door knob--fully aware that he'd not answered the question.
Andi cut off the confrontation, stepping past him, purposefully so close he had to back even further against the wall. Lena followed, craning her neck to see beyond Andi and ignoring the man as if he were furniture.
The living room decor matched the building, an over-stuffed couch bracketed with lamps on end-tables, two matching easy chairs, a mahogany coffee table and a dark print of a eighteenth century realist painter in a gaudy, gilded frame. It was a harvest scene near sunset, sheaves of grain, men with scythes, women in heavy skirts bent over, binding bundles, one of them wiping her brow and long shadows that couldn’t hide the dust and sweat of their lives of hard work.
Waiting on the couch beneath the painting was a woman with grey streaked hair pulled back in a loose, practical bun. Her legs crossed at the knee, her back was Marine Corps straight, her shirt sleeves folded up her elbows revealing thin arms that thrust straight down to the couch, almost supporting herself on her palms. "Andi Wicksham." she stated. It was a greeting, not a question. She didn’t offer her hand.
"Judith-Anne Chapman." Andi returned, immediately moving to the chair to her side. "Why doesn't it feel like we're on the same team?"
Lena settled silently on the chair directly across, looking about as if checking every detail against a mental list of what she’d expected.
Chapman swiveled her head to give Andi a level gaze. "I don't know you. There's a lot at stake and I probably blame you for Alvin's death."
"Alvin Delgatto?" Andi asked innocently.
Chapman nodded, her eyes closing in an affirmative blink. It was strangely foreign, formal, or out of date gesture that exuded a propriety at odd with her clothes behavior.
"I'm responsible?"
"He took on things you should have been doing and died in your office.”
“Alvin...” Andi started.
Chapman interrupted her. “You know him as Armando Delgatto. Funny that detail would escape a detective." She gave a wry smile that lent her a human aura, a tiredness and resignation Andi could relate to.
"You and he are a couple." Andi simply recognized the fact, she didn't need to make it a question, didn't need to tell Chapman she'd known. None of that was going to matter.
"Were." Chapman corrected through clenched teeth. "He was an incredible person. We were together six years, planned this project together, set up Armando’s life, made all the connections with the pig businessmen."
"It explains his unlived-in house." Lena stepped in with more compassion than Andi had been able to muster. Her eyes were moist, her head tilted to a side in an empathic pose.
Chapman had to turn to respond, a slight nod, then immediately shifted back to Andi. “I even winnowed through all the investigators in town and picked you out. Now that Alvin's gone I'd like to continue your contract, but..."
"But?" Andi asked.
She shook her head. "I’m sorry. ‘But’ was the wrong thing to say. You have to keep on the case. I'm sorry I didn’t instill trust." Chapman's eyes appealed more than her voice, but both were sincere at the moment. "I can rise above my side of it. This project is too important to let pettiness scuttle it and now there’s Alvin’s murder. You're the only one who can pursue it."
"Why? What's wrong with you?" Andi asked bluntly. "You got the attitude and resources. You seem to have the organization." She waved to the young man without breaking eye contact.
Chapman leaned back against the back of the couch and smiled nervously. "Because Judith-Anne is as fictional as Armando was...maybe more so" It was a somewhat sad admission. "It would be too risky." She looked away, toward the window. "Anyway, I do my best work from the sidelines." Again the wry, self-depreciating smile.
"I'm not sure we can give you what you're after." Andi stated with deliberate slowness.
"What do you think that is?" Judith-Anne's bristly defensiveness was back, her chin jutted and her mouth twisted into a confrontational sneer.
"Revenge." Lena inserted the comment for Andi, her hands remaining sedately folded in her lap.
That forced Chapman to turn again. She frowned in disapproval. "I'd like to think of it as justice."
"I'm sure you would." Andi commented. Their tag-team worked like a charm. "But whatever we do it won’t give enough satisfaction to make it worthwhile."
Chapman, sat back in the couch again, her face relaxed and the smile returned. "There's more of course. There's the legitimate problem underlying Alvin's death. I’m an activist; I take it seriously. Rapping Riparian’s knuckles won't change the world, but we can only clean up one small corner at a time. It just happens to be Riparian now." She lifted a hand in languid dismissal.
There was a change of mood in the room that could be felt. Andi dropped her sparring and got down to business. "OK. But I don't have enough evidence to make a dent in Riparian's legal budget, certainly not enough to put anybody away."
"You don't have the knowledge we have."
"But you're going to fill us in?" Lena made the request, right on cue.
Chapman didn't bother looking away this time. "If you're going to be the one to use it."
Andi broke eye contact to stare out the window. "I have a long time friend in homicide. He'd like to get the DEQ murders in front of the district attorney. His Lieutenant is in charge of the murders of Lamar Rasheed, Jimmy Tuft and Alvin." She opened her notebook. "Everybody knows that Armando is Alvin."
“The cops too?” Chapman's eyes darted from Andi to Lena and back. "How much of a problem do we have?"
"I don’t know. They know he didn't live at that house and they don’t like loose ends. There weren't sheets on the bed or dirty laundry. It made them suspicious."
"We can give a more believable setting if we need to. Complete with dirty laundry." Chapman wasn't smiling, it was business--she was dead serious.
"Without his fingerprints on a toothbrush, we’re better off not muddying the water." Andi shrugged with a smile.
"Fingerprints are no problem." Chapman still wasn't smiling.
"Pardon?" Lena asked the question in a musical lilt, as if they were nibbling biscuits at an English tea.
"I’ve got his fingerprints in dental gel. We make positives, oil 'em and stamp 'em around." She was matter of fact about it.
Andi sat and stared, unsure whether she was more surprised at their knowing the trick or that they'd anticipated using it while he was still alive. "You've done this before?" she asked.
"Once or twice." Judith-Anne wasn't bragging.
Lena leaned forward, "Is it worth the effort?" She looked from Andi to Chapman, slowing shaking her head.
Andi shrugged. "Probably not."
"Your call." Judith-Anne mumbled.
Andi paused--that was same phrase Armando used. "I'll ask Ramirez if anybody cares. My guess is he's more a victim than perp. What we need to do is deliver his killer. You think it’s Mardell. Why? How much do you know? We need something substantial."
Judith Anne moved to the front edge of the couch and gestured to the young man who rose and silently slipped out. "We've researched them as well as we could, even had somebody in their office for a while. Armando gave you the photos?"
Andi nodded, trying to read her face. If Judith-Anne thought the photo's valuable she knew less than she thought.
The young man returned with a brown briefcase and slid it onto the table.
"This is Simon." Chapman introduced him as if this was the first time he'd joined them, then flipped the latches to open the case. Simon sat on the couch beside her now instead of standing in the background.
Andi and Lena nodded, neither they nor he extended hands.
"You saw the photos?" Chapman repeated the question.
Andi nodded. "There were some significant employees overlooked." She looked to see how Chapman reacted.
Judith-Anne stared right back into her eyes and replied. "The oversight team? They weren't overlooked. We didn't want to telegraph what we knew. After all, what did we know of you?" She took an envelope from the briefcase, handing it to Lena while talking to Andi. "We know the three members. Three years ago there were five, but one died and the other disappeared."
Lena held up a picture of Robert Greg. "Greg's missing now too. He left prints on the adhesive when he retaped Alvin’s legs. We're giving even money that Mardell's retired his number."
"And then there were two." Judith-Anne mouth twisted to a sour pucker. "If he was the trigger man, how do we make a case?" She stared expectantly as if they could pull the answer from a hat.
"I don't know." Andi admitted. "What other tidbits do you have?"
Chapman rooted another moment and pulled out a thick file folder. "We have copies of all the invoices and transfer documents from Titan Marine, Machine Salvage and A&C Machine Works to Janus...they used to use EPA manifests for hazardous waste using Janus as hauler, then suddenly they changed to invoices noting sale and delivery of bogus products to Janus..." she set the file on the table between them and looked up expectantly.
Andi tried to look enthusiastic. "That's something, but we’ve already gotten some of that. But dumping hazardous waste, avoiding regulations and exceeding permits will only cost Riparian a piddly fine. Only the murders are going to cause them grief and we still don’t have a case."
Chapman remained silent.
"If we give you this, who’ll it go to?" Simon was suddenly concerned.
Andi answered quickly. "I'd choose Ramone Bodega." Both the science and the regulations were over her head. "If it doesn't come through a legitimate channel the bureaucrats won’t hear it."
"Going through fucking channels?" Simon complained. "It'll take forever."
"It's better than nothing." Andi wasn't interested in his frustration.
Judith-Anne shrugged and handed Andi the file. Then she looked into her eyes. “We still have to nail Riparian.”
Andi shrugged.
Judith-Anne turned to Lena who shrugged too. Judith-Anne blinked and seemed to deliberate a moment. "So? Can we work together?"
Andi smiled. "We agree on the goal. Let's get back to Riparian and Mardell." She flipped open her notebook looked up expectantly. "What do you know about the latest murders."
Judith-Anne straightened her back. "The duct tape came from Titan Marine." She reached into the box and retrieved the end of a roll. "Batch number’s printed inside." she pointed. "The oversight boys took their rolls from the same case." She tossed the tape to Andi and sat back smugly.
Andi's eyes sparkled, she hefted the roll in her hand. "I'll see it gets in the right hands. What do you know about Hadrian Smiley, Gary Plaskett and Robert Greg? Is there a weakness we can exploit."
"They’re loyal." Judith-Anne's smile dimmed and her lip curled into a sneer.
"Are you factoring in Greg's early retirement?"
"That assumes Mardell shares the cop's suspicions or Greg suspects it."
"The cops have got Greg IDed, but muffed catching him. Riparian has enough pull to find that out...ergo, he's road-kill."
"You think he'll run?"
Andi shrugged. "If he know’s he fingered...but who would of told him except his bosses?" She paused and stared hard. "If you’ve got guesses where to look, this might be the perfect time."
Judith-Anne gave a bored shrug. "If I knew where he was I’d solve his problem."
"What else do you have?" Lena nudged them back on track.
"They took the first two guys to a room in A&C Machine's basement." Simon offered. "Drove 'em there in a Mardell van."
"You know this?" Andi looked up in surprise.
Simon shrugged. "It’s third hand to you." he muttered defensively.
"Can you find out exactly where?" Andi thought of Jimmy Tuft's teeth and the forensic team Max could deploy at a moment's notice.
"I'll get you a map." Simon answered simply.
"Can we get your source as a witness if he gets protection or immunity?" Lena offered her winning smile.
His posture sagged a decent slacker slouch and he offered a lopsided smile. "She."
"If she calls me I'll pay for an attorney to negotiate it." Andi offered, deciding that this was what Armando would want done with the money.
Simon nodded. “I’ll try.” The room had warmed considerably.
Andi turned back to Judith-Anne. "The DEQ murders had different MO's. They were clean...no physical evidence to speak of." She let the comments hang until they became a question.
"Yeah?" replied Judith-Anne at last, interested, but cautious.
Andi sat back and rubbed her cheek with a finger. "The question is why the last three were all the same style and sloppy? Hardly seems the same people."
Judith-Anne smiled her patronizing smile again. "Remember I said there used to be five in the oversight team? The two that went missing were the brains."
"They weren't replaced?" Lena asked almost idly.
There was a moment of silence as Simon and Judith-Anne looked at each other. Simon coughed and began. "Our best guess is that the others wouldn't take to an outsider." He shrugged. "Maybe Boyd thought they didn’t need middle-management. You think he’d admit to Sauturne that things weren't as professional as they’d been before?"
"What happened to the others?" asked Andi as she stretched a kink from her neck.
"The top guy disappeared into thin air. He was the brains behind DEQ hits, named Tod Compton." Judith-Anne paused and her tone dropped. "We had a person in Mardell at the time. He and his second in command argued about money the Friday before he went missing."
"Second in command?" Andi prompted, raising an interested eyebrow. "You’re implying he killed his boss?"
"Name's William Belamy." Simon answered. "Yeah, he took Compton out." That said, he closed his mouth so suddenly that there was a sight pop. “They went out together to a construction project at Titan Marine and Belamy came back alone with mud on his clothes.”
Lena prompted, "You'd been watching?" She leaned her head to a side and fiddled with her ear rings.
Simon ignored the question, glanced at Judith-Anne, then continued. "Compton was charismatic. The other three would follow him. Belamy had brains, but used an iron fist that left the others resentful. The rough edges pushed Compton’s buttons. He didn't see himself as simply a heavy, but as a smooth professional. With him gone, Belamy probably was a real jerk and the other three weren’t the type who take being pushed."
"Belamy took out Compton as a career move? What happened?" Lena didn't crack a smile and her eyes didn't leave his face.
"Monday, he moved into Compton’s office. He certainly didn't mourn."
Lena’s hand was still on her jewelry. "What happened?"
Simon sighed. "Our best guess is that Jesse Clayton and Thomas Boyd had him iced to put the kibosh on that style of advancement. No doubt it could get out of hand with a crew of sociopaths."
"I take it there was a body this time?" Lena prodded quietly.
"He was found in his office, pistol in mouth, the back of his head missing--no note. The gun had been stolen last year on the east coast. He had bruises on wrists and face, but they still called it suicide." Simon gave a humorless grin. "It seemed the remaining three got the message. None of them started swaggering and none moved into the office." He blinked once or twice and sat back in his chair.
"So the boys without finesse were the only ones left..." It wasn't really a question.
"Reason enough for our concern with security." claimed Judith-Anne.
"Unfortunately, you're not good at it." returned Andi levelly, she paged back in her notebook for the scrap of paper she'd thrown in mid-week. "Instead of meeting here we could have met at your house..." she read Judith-Anne's address from the back of Bodega’s card and gave a not very amused chuckle.
"How did you find that?" Judith-Anne's eyes were open wide.
"Investigating is what we do. But it wasn't hard. You collect the rent for his house, you have a driver’s license, you talked to the cops about Armando." Andi shut her notebook and rose to her feet. "Is there more we need to discuss?"
Judith-Anne recovered from her surprise almost immediately. "What do we do next?”
"Do you have still have contacts in Mardell?" Lena interjected.
It was Simon who answered. "No, but we have friends in A&C, Titan, Machine Salvage and Sandoz Paper."
"Do you know about Riparian's connection with Senator Hyde?" Andi asked, already heading for the door.
"Of course." Judith-Anne snapped.
It was enough to get Andi to stop and turn around.
"I follow campaign financing very closely. Sauturne and her PAC of executives pass him big bucks. They have for ten or fifteen years. They’ve given plenty to buy ‘access.’"
Simon chuckled. Lena nodded stonily.
Andi mumbled "We'll see what we can come up with on the environmental side...we could use that map to that A&C basement and give your witness my number, I’ll put her in touch with our lawyer." She started for the door again, but stopped and turned to Chapman. "I'll call once we integrate this."
Simon rose, followed them to the door and clicked the dead-bolt home once the door shut quietly behind them.
Andi waited until they were halfway down the stairs before saying anything and then it was simply, "Despite her attitude, I liked her."
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