Chasing China White by Allan Leverone (best time to read books TXT) 📗

the cash for me tonight—but he’s said it before.”

“And?”

“I told him I would drop by his house to pick it up, but I wouldn’t be alone. You always look more serious when you bring someone along. I will give you twenty percent just for keeping me company. It’s enough to get Big Bill off your back.”

“What time tonight?”

“I can pick you up outside your place at nine.”

Vinnie Stradivarius looked over to the phonebooth, and then back to Lockhart.

“Nine it is,” Vinnie said.

The house was in the Richmond.

Lockhart parked on the next street and they walked.

At the front door, Bobby pushed the doorbell.

It rang the first eight notes of Beethoven’s Fifth.

The man who opened the door looked at both visitors.

“Good evening, Fred,” Bobby said.

“It’s Frederick. What do you want?”

A gun appeared in Bobby’s hand.

“You can invite us in. Fred.”

The man backed away, and Lockhart stepped through the door.

Vinnie stood planted at the threshold. Confused.

“Come on,” Bobby said, “and close it behind you.”

“If you want money, I have around twelve hundred dollars in my wallet,” Frederick Hanover said.

“Impressive,” Bobby said. “Do you have a gun?”

“In my desk drawer.”

“Show me.”

They followed Hanover into an office at the back of the house.

“Top drawer, left side.”

“Sit. Take it out, slowly. Place it on the desk, and put your hands behind your head.”

When Hanover complied, Bobby handed his weapon to Vinnie.

“Keep him covered until I get his gun.”

Bobby walked over to the desk, picked up the weapon, turned, shot Vinnie in the chest, and placed the gun back down on the desk.

“Are you insane,” Hanover said.

“You have no idea.”

Lockhart walked over and picked up his gun where Vinnie had dropped it when he went down. Bobby pointed the gun at Hanover.

“I’ll give you a chance,” Lockhart said. “I’ll let you go for your weapon.”

Hanover grabbed for his gun. Bobby put a bullet in Fred’s head.

Bobby touched the weapon to Vinnie’s hand, and placed it on the floor next to Vinnie’s body.

He started out of the room, but stopped short at the door.

He walked back to the desk and lifted the small statuette.

It was a figure of a winged-woman, made in metal, six inches tall.

She stood on a green stone pedestal.

Bobby slipped it into his jacket pocket. He couldn’t resist.

Lockhart had a thing for angels.

After a dinner of leftover Chinese take-out, another terrible Steven Seagal film on TV, and two chapters of Dicken’s David Copperfield, Jake Diamond was ready to call it a night when his doorbell rang.

Jake found Detective Sergeant Johnson standing on the front porch.

“I’m just going to say it.”

“Okay.”

“Vincent Stradivarius was shot. An hour ago.”

“Is he alive?”

“He’s alive, but he may not make it.”

“Where is he?”

“Saint Francis, but he’ll be in surgery for hours.”

“So, there’s no need to rush down there.”

“None I can think of.”

“Care for a drink?” Diamond asked.

“Sure, I could handle a drink.”

Bobby

Every murderer is probably someone’s old friend.

—Agatha Christie

1

After Sergeant Johnson gave me the news about Vinnie Strings, I invited him in for a drink.

He followed me back to the kitchen, where I poured two glasses of George Dickel Tennessee sour mash over ice.

We sat at the kitchen table.

“Has his mother been told?” I asked.

“I called Ray Boyle down in Los Angeles. He said he would personally go over to see her tonight, and book her a flight for tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks for taking care of that.”

“No problem.”

“So, what happened?”

“I can tell you what it looked like.”

“Okay.”

“Vinnie and Frederick Hanover were both found in Hanover’s study, a house in the Richmond. It appears there was an exchange of gunfire. Both were hit once. Vinnie was found on the floor in front of the desk, Hanover’s body was behind the desk. Hanover was DOA. Guns were found near each body.”

“Who was Hanover?”

“Big time businessman. Real estate developer. Obscenely wealthy. It’s being looked at as a robbery gone south.”

“Not possible. Not Vinnie.”

“Word has it he had worked himself into debt. Nearly three thousand dollars.”

“Vinnie would take a beating before he would point a weapon at anyone. Who does he owe the money to?”

“William Conway.”

“I guess I’ll have to talk with Conway.”

“Big Bill is a nasty piece of work. I’m just saying. Try to be polite.”

“Dealing with Conway will be a walk in the park compared to giving Darlene the news.”

“It’s after midnight. Why don’t you wait until morning to call her?”

“I will, and I’ll need to tell her in person. I’m going to head over to the hospital, find a doctor who knows something. Did Vinnie say anything?”

“Not a thing. And he probably won’t be saying anything for quite a while. But there was this,” Johnson said, pulling a crime scene photograph from his jacket pocket and handing it across the table to me.

“What is it?”

“The floor near Vinnie’s body.”

The photo was a close-up shot of two symbols written in blood.

X X

“Mean anything to you?”

“It does. Vinnie is telling us he was double-crossed.”

2

It was nearly two hours before I was able to talk to a doctor and hear what I didn’t want to hear.

It was after three in the morning when I made it back home.

Another fun-filled Saturday night.

I knew exactly where Darlene would be with Tug McGraw five hours later, so I set my alarm for seven-thirty.

It would have given me four hours sleep, had I been able to sleep.

I sat on a bench in Buena Vista Park, waiting for Darlene and the dog to come to the end of their run.

They were about to pass the bench at full speed when Darlene spotted me. She stopped on a dime.

I was afraid the leash would pull Tug McGraw’s head off.

“I’m not glad to see you,” she said.

“Vinnie was shot last night. He’s alive, but not in the clear.”

“Have you seen him?”

“He went from surgery to recovery to intensive care, no one will be seeing him until noon at the earliest.”

“What happened?”

“The going theory is Vinnie shot a man named Hanover while Vinnie was committing a robbery, but we both know that’s not