The Mangled Mobster (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 7) by Butterfield Frank W

Author:Butterfield, Frank W. [Butterfield, Frank W.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2016-12-30T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

564 33rd Avenue

Monday, June 21, 1954

A little before noon

The lieutenant pulled his car into a space a couple of houses north of where the Keller brothers lived. He drove a forest green '49 Chrysler Windsor coupe. He'd invited Mike and me to go with him to see what we could find out. The two of them had sat in the front while I'd slipped in behind Mike. I tried not to read too much into it, but it was interesting when Holland threw his arm across the back of the front seat. For a guy who supposedly didn't like queers, he had certainly taken a shine to Mike. They'd joked with each other the entire time it took to drive down Geary to the Outer Richmond.

We piled out of his car. Mike and I followed in Holland's wake as he walked up to the house. All the houses on this block, between Anza and Geary, were basically the same. Two stories. Garage on the ground floor. Sitting room window above that and overlooking the street. This house was painted a faded blue. Unlike most of the others, there were weeds growing between the cracks in the pavement out front.

The lieutenant walked up to the front gate and pressed the buzzer. Getting no answer, he pressed the buzzer again. I moved out towards the street and casually looked around. I was pretty sure I saw someone move behind lace curtains covering the bay of sitting room windows. Holland pressed the buzzer a third time.

There wasn't much we could do at this point, so Holland pointed to the car and we silently followed him. Once we were packed in, he said, "Let's find a phone. I got a trick up my sleeve."

Driving up to Geary, Holland turned right. Pulling in front of a fire plug at the corner of 32nd Avenue and leaving the keys in the ignition, he jumped out and walked into the phone booth on the corner.

As we waited, I said, "Parking in front of a fire plug. Carter would be throwing a fit right now if he was here."

"And, he'd be right," said Mike.

"You're not gonna stick up for your boyfriend?"

"Nick, I swear."

"Did you see how he put his arm over the back of the seat?"

"No. I was facing forward and minding my own business."

Holland opened the door, jumped back in, and asked, "Minding your own business about what?" He was grinning. Again.

Mike replied, "Nick's being annoying."

Holland looked at me over the back of the seat. "I can see how he could get that way." He grinned at me and winked. I just shook my head. This guy was being mighty flirty. That was no lie.

"What's next?" I asked.

"We wait."

"Next to a fire plug?"

"Sure. Do it all the time."

"You better not let my husband catch you doing that." Mike shook his head when he heard me use that word.

"Husband?" asked Holland. I couldn't tell if he was offended or not.

"Well, we might as well be married. So, yeah.

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