The Butch Karp and Marlene Ciampi Novels Volume Two by Robert K. Tanenbaum

Author:Robert K. Tanenbaum
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781504057127
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2018-07-27T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“They did what!” Marlene came up out of her doze like a breaching whale. “I said,” Karp repeated, “that they just picked up Doone for the Simmons killing. I just got off the phone with Thelmann.”

It was past four and the December light was thinning out. Karp was lying on top of the covers next to Marlene, who, though she had scarcely stirred since returning from her thug-photography session, had come alive in response to the mysterious instincts that let her know when Karp was doing business on the phone in the loft.

“What’d he say?” Marlene asked. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and sat up expectantly in bed.

“He said they’d been watching him for a while on the thing anyway. They knew Leona was carrying dope for him and they figured that was the connection—”

“Who’s this ‘they’?”

“Queens homicide detective named Fence. Thelmann told me he’s the one in charge of the real investigation. Anyway, they got a tip and they went into his car with a warrant. Found an automatic, nine-millimeter, the ballistics check out. It’s the gun that did Simmons.”

“And what does Leona Simmons have to say about this?” Marlene asked.

Karp nodded. “Yeah, I asked him that too. He said she wasn’t material to their case.”

“Wasn’t material! Christ, Butch, she could’ve been an eyewitness. Does he even know where she is?”

“He didn’t say and I didn’t ask. He was not that anxious to talk to me in the first place; he sounded real nervous—excited but scared. Long pauses.”

“I bet,” said Marlene, then, “Wait a second: they like him for the actual trigger?”

“So I’m told. Why?”

“What about Doone being in jail on the murder night? How did he explain that?”

Karp was startled. “Where did you hear that?”

“From Doone. Don’t give me that look! Why the hell would he lie about something like that? It’s easy enough to check. And Doone isn’t stupid.”

“No, but if he’s not, then Thelmann is. I can’t believe the little putz wouldn’t check something like that.” He looked at Marlene, who had risen from the bed and was shuffling through her dresser drawers. “You don’t like him for it anyway, do you?”

“No, I hate him for it. Bello had it right. It’s the wrong kind of hit, and the dope in the car makes no sense at all. Why would Doone have seen me, have listened to me for two seconds, unless he was genuinely concerned about losing his stuff, or about somebody trying to do him dirty?”

“That’s a point,” admitted Karp. “But the thing that really stinks out loud is the business about Doone being locked up. You going somewhere?”

Marlene was struggling into a pair of red wool tights. “Well, I’m not going to lounge in bed while they railroad my own personal vicious drug lord. What about you?”

“I’m beat for today,” said Karp, leaning back and flexing his bad knee carefully. “Tomorrow I might make some calls. Find out about that arrest anyway. You know, this is starting to stink worse all the time.

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