Gifts From The Kasbah - Robert F. Clifton (read any book .TXT) 📗

used as a spice in what she called, keftu which are actually rose petal meatballs As a result of talking with her I learned that she and her husband, Jabar El Hamidi are from north Morocco. Both of them grew flowers and sold them in the Kasbah of Tangiers. She was the one that dried the flower petals, spreading them out on the flat roof top of her apartment.

She said that major market was to the perfume and soap makers. They used the flowers to scent their product. According to her, the main ingredient they wanted was rose petals. Mr. Hamidi grew calendula, chamomile, jasmine, roses, gladiolas and poppies".

"Ahh, poppies, interesting, go ahead", said Wallace interrupting officer Myers.

74. "Any way, the husband runs the restaurant and bar. He also brings in the entertainment".

“Did she mention how long the Kasbah Club has been in business or why they picked the woods for the place to build their business?”, asked Wallace.

“No sir. She didn't say and I didn't ask. I didn't want to tip my hand by asking too many personal questions', Myers answered.

“Anything else?”, asked the Captain.

“Well, she did mention that Mr. Hamidi grows many of the flowers that they sell in the land behind the club.”.

“Smart, did she mention squash blossoms?”.

“No sir”.

“Did you see any?”

“No, but I did find one thing unusual”, mentioned Myers.

“And what was that?”

“They do a heck of a take out business”.

“So I've heard, but you don't know what the take out is, do you?”

“No, but I think they also deliver. They were so busy a young woman was bagging the take out orders and a guy was taking care of the delivery orders.”

“That's odd. I don't know of too many Mediterranean Restaurants that deliver”, said Wallace.

“Or put handfuls of flower petals in the packages”, said Myers.

“ I take it you saw them do that. OK. Nice job Myers. Did you buy anything?'.

“Yes sir, a wooden pencil cup. I told them it was for my boyfriend”, said Myers pointing at McKenna.

“Now, put everything you just told me on paper in an official report, including anything you might have forgot and any receipts.”

“The cup cost twenty eight dollars”, said Myers.

Turning his attention to Mckenna, Wallace asked, “What do you have?”

“Well, you have the list of license plate numbers. That part was easy. The hard part was coming up with a story when I asked for a receipt when I paid for our dinner. A guy gave me a funny look and asked me why I needed it. Fortunately I remembered that I had a couple of old business cards in my wallet, so I presented one and told him I needed a write off”.

“What business were you in?”, asked Wallace.

“Awnings and canvas floors”.

“And the guy bought your story?”, asked Stiles.

75. “I guess so. Here's the receipt. Dinner and drinks came to seventy three dollars and thirty eight cents”.

“How is the food?”, asked Wallace.

“Good, so are the drinks. The show wasn't too bad. The opening dancers were a little older and one was chunky fat, but the star attraction, Isis, was really good”.

“I told him to watch the movement of the dancers hands and arms and not just her hips and lower torso, but he didn't listen”, said Myers

“Anything else?”, asked Wallace.

“Yes sir. I had to take a leak so I went to the men's room. When I was washing my hands a guy came in, used the urinal then turned his head and asked me, “How good is the smack here?”

“I told him I didn't know and that I was only interest in grass. As the guy zipped up his fly he said, “ They say the hash here is exceptional. A little high priced, but good stuff”.

“Well, we figured the place was dealing drugs. You just confirmed it. OK. Write and submit your report”, said Wallace.

“I'll start running the registration numbers Cap”, said Stiles”.

“Good, look for some of our locals”, Wallace replied.

He picked up the pencil cup and held it up to his nose smelling the aroma of the Thuya wood. As he did Lieutenant O'Neil walked into the office. “What the hell are you doing?”, he asked.

“Smelling this pencil cup.”

“They have always said that you have unorthodox methods when it came to investigating, but smelling wood is something I never thought I'd see you do”.

“This cup is made of Thuya wood. The tree only grows in Morocco. Since there is a Moroccan connection to the homicides I'm investigating I have to make sure this item is the real thing”.

“And, is it?”

“Yep. Not only is it real but it was made by skilled craftsmen”.

“Yeah on a lathe in some guys garage”.

“Nope, it seems that anything made from Thuya wood is protected by the Moroccan government since it is a staple of the economy. The tree only grows in the Atlas mountains of Morocco and the roots of the tree are selected by the craftsmen and turned into wood products. This little cup probably took over a year to make from the taking of the root wood, the carving and mostly the finishing. The finish is applied by hand rubbing and takes a lot of time to acquire the desired coating”.

76. “Are you making any progress in the Kerr homicide?”, asked O'Neil.

“Some. I'll tell you this, narcotics are involved. If I'm right there's a local rich kid involved and probably some others you and I might know. Frank's running license plate numbers right now. If we come up with a name and the person's dirty, I'll turn them over to you. If that happens I'll want you to lean on them hard”.

“No problem, just tell what you want to know”, said O'Neil.

“Good, we might know something after lunch. Right now I've got to report to the Chief”, said Wally.

It was one forty five in the afternoon when Frank Stiles carried a list of New Jersey automobile license plate numbers into Captain Wallace's office.

“Here's the list Cap. I only recognize one guy from Nautilus beach, Eddie Sloan”.

“Eddie, “The Dip”, son of a bitch. He's been a user for years. It's a wonder he hasn't taken an over dose. Last time I heard of him he was running numbers for Joe Jacoby”.

“With a nick name the Dip, I'd assume he was a pick pocket”, said Stiles.

Wallace laughed. “Actually, Eddie has been a pain in the ass most of his life. He was a juvenile delinquent and when he was in high school he got caught smoking so many times and suspended that he began using chewing tobacco and snuff. That's when he acquired the name, The Dip”.

“What's he hooked on?”, asked Stiles.

“Heroin, the last I heard. OK. Go see Lieutenant O'Neil ask him to pick up Eddie. Tell Bill I'll be over to see him before he interrogates Sloan”.

“Yes Sir”.

Wallace picked up the short list of license numbers and read them.

When he came to Edward Sloan, he wrote down the man's address, make and model automobile and noticed that “The Dip” owned a 1972 Chevrolet Nova. “The Dip must be doing something other than running numbers. An errand boy for Jacoby doesn't earn that much”. Wallace thought to himself. As he continued to read he stopped when he came to the name, Emma Prescott. Getting up from the desk he checked the name with the address he had in the Kerr file. “Son of a bitch”, he said aloud, seeing that it was the same young woman he had interviewed. He placed the list of tag numbers in the file and put it back into the filing cabinet. He then headed for Bill O'Neil's office.

Bill O'Neil looked up to see Wallace entering his office. “How in the hell are you going to operate without a cup of coffee and a cigarette?”, he asked.

77. “It will be difficult, but I'll struggle through it”, Wallace answered.

“OK. What's the program?”, asked O'Neil.

“My investigation has taken me to Cape May County, a place called Greenfield. There, back in the woods is a Mediterranean supper club and gift shop called the Kasbah. I put two undercover officers in there. They reported what they believe is drug activity.”.

“Not my problem”, said O'Neil.

“No shit? Will you just sit back and listen?. Tom Mckenna got a list of New Jersey cars parked in the lot. We made a hit on two of those automobiles. One came back to Eddie “The Dip” Sloan. I want you to pick him up, bring him in and question him. In a round about way I want to know what he can tell us about a guy named Philip Spencer. Spencer works at the club. Supposedly, he's the bouncer. I want to know if he's involved in drugs, either as a user or dealer”.

“Anything else?”, asked O'Neil.

“Yeah, the second hit was on the car owned by Emma Prescott. She has been reported to have dated the Spencer kid. Here's the best part. I brought her in for questioning in reference to the Kerr homicide. She maintained that she was in Spain at the time of Elizabeth Kerr's death.'

“Was she?”, asked O'Neil.

“ I thought so, but you can bet, I'll be checking. Anyway, see if “The Dip” knows anything about a connection between Spencer and Emma Prescott”.

“That's easy, but you know if Eddie knows anything about this Kasbah place and the people you've mentioned,, he'll blow the whistle on your investigation”, said O'Neil.

“If “The Dip” runs his mouth to you like I think he will, then it won't matter”. Wallace answered.

“Alright, by now he's picked up all the slips. We'll take him on the street tomorrow morning when he's carrying. That way I have a charge and reason to hold him. Is he still using?”

“As far as I know, supposedly, horse”.

“If that's true we can break him by watching him go through withdrawals. He'll talk when it gets too bad”.

Wallace went back to his office and sat down at his desk. Opening a drawer he removed a red leather covered address book and looked up the telephone number of Herbert Watkins, investigator, U.S. Immigration And Customs Enforcement. He dialed the number then spoke to three different operators until he finally was connected to Watkins line. “Herb? Robert Wallace. How the hell are you. It's been a couple of years since I last spoke to you”, said Wallace.

“Hello Bob. Yes, it's been awhile. Why are you calling?”, Watkins

78.

asked.

“I need some information on a Moroccan couple living here in New Jersey. Right now they might be involved in two homicides and at the same time active in drugs”.

“What are names and do you have an address?”

“The name of the woman is Amina Hamidi. The man is Jabar El Hamidi. They both own a supper club called the Kasbah in a place known as Greenfield, New Jersey”.

Wallace noticed that there was a long pause before Watkins answered. “Unfortunately this is an open, on going investigation by us, so I can't talk over the telephone. What I can do is invite you to come here to Washington. That way we can talk”.

“No can do Herb. I'm up to my ass in two homicide investigations. I'm expecting to do an interrogation tomorrow that may shine some light on this matter``.

“Let me put you on hold. Don't hang up”, said Watkins.

“Wallace listened to what is referred to as elevator music as he waited for Watkins to come back on line. Finally, after ten minutes the Immigration agent said, “Bob, here's what I can do. I can fax what we have to our Philadelphia Office. One of their agents will drive down to see you. He'll brief you on what we think you should know. At the same time, remember this is a two way street. We will want to know what you have on the Hamidi's in relation to your homicide investigation”.

“That sounds like a deal, except for the part that you'll tell me what your guy thinks I should know. Tell you what, suppose I take the same position? I'll tell your boy only what I