Read Scar Tissue Page 4


  The smell had not yet turned sour, but it wouldn’t be long. The blood was drying on the floor where it had made a temporary run for the door before settling at the edge of a throw rug. The source of the blood wasn’t far away. Charlie Ramus, or at least someone I assumed to be Ramus, was on the floor, propped up against the edge of a couch. His neck hung awkwardly off to one side, and there was an ugly mess of blood where his throat had been cut and opened. The blood had run down his neck, his shirt, and then onto the floor. His eyes were still open and he appeared to be staring off to some secret place, as if there was a moment or two when he saw his death coming and he tried crawling for that place of safety, knowing he’d never make it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  It wasn’t long before Charlie’s room was filled with cops. Homicide detectives, guys from forensics, a woman taking photographs, and a funny little guy with a thin moustache and a bow tie from the Coroner’s Office.

  The first cop on the scene was Officer Frank Cole, from Robbery, not Homicide. He explained he’d been just a block away when he’d heard the call go out. He was pleasant enough as he asked me questions: Did I know Ramus? Why was I there? Did I touch anything? Did I see anyone else? I shaped an explanation that was close to the truth, but that kept Ray’s name out of it. I also dropped McNamara’s name in the hope it would help free me from spending the whole day in the musty room filled with the smell of Ramus’corpse. Of course, after going over things with Cole, I had to repeat the story to the lead Homicide Detective. It was while I was talking to him, and I was sitting in a chair next to a small ugly formica topped kitchen table, that I saw it. In the chipped blue glass ashtray was a crushed out non-filtered Camel cigarette, and a Blue Flame wooden match snapped in half. It was the same combination I’d seen Ray use when we first spoke in Berkeley.

  It almost two o’clock by the time the cops were finished with me. I rode the elevator back down to the lobby and was walking to the front door when the old hotel clerk hollered at me.

  “You kill him?”

  I turned to face him. He was perched in his chair, leaning against the wall.

  “You the perpetrator?” he said with what he used as a grin.

  “Not this time,” I said. I momentarily thought about asking him if he had seen Ray this morning, but decided against planting any ideas that might not already be in place. “I told the cops I thought you did it.”

  “That’s a good one. Yes, sir.” He quickly turned his attention back to his little television, apparently through playing with me.

  I walked down Post Street, past my car, which now had a ticket on the windshield, over to Geary, and into Lefty O’Doul’s restaurant. I had pastrami on rye, macaroni salad, and a beer. I hadn’t had a beer in the afternoon in sometime, but then it had been a while since I discovered a corpse, especially one as ugly as Charlie Ramus.

  After lunch I called Tetlow’s office. A squeaky voiced receptionist told me he was in court, but would be calling in at some point to check on messages. Did I care to leave one? I left my name and number. I also called Ray at home, and he answered. He sounded drunk, but agreed to stay in place until I could come over and talk.

  It took ten minutes to get to Ray’s apartment.

  “Come on in,” he’d answered when I knocked. “Door’s open.”

  Ray was pretty well into his drunk. There was a half empty quart bottle of Old Crow on the coffee table and a dirty glass on the floor. He was stretched out on the couch smoking a cigarette.

  “Hey, you. Wanna drink?” he slurred.

  “No, I don’t”

  Ray leaned up from the couch and picked up his glass from the floor. He reached for the Old Crow and refilled the glass and took a drink. He flicked his cigarette toward the dirty plate he was using as an ashtray, but fell short and the ash floated down to the carpet.

  “Shit…” he said. “Making a bit of a mess here, ain’t I?” He used his bare foot to rub the ash into the nap. “There, that’s better.”

  Watching Ray I wondered if I should just chuck the whole thing. I didn’t need to be wasting my time with the Ray Rhodes’ of the world. Just how far does family loyalty extend?

  “So, what’s up Lucky,” Rhodes asked.

  “You’re a sorry bastard, you know that?”

  “Uh oh, somebody’s having a bad day.”

  “You kill Charlie Ramus this morning?”

  The question slapped him. He tilted his head, opened his eyes more widely, as if consciously trying to focus.

  “Because somebody did him. And you’ve been there.”

  “Wait a minute,” he said. I had his attention for the first time. “Wait just a goddamn minute. What makes you say that? Charlie’s dead?”

  “I saw your cigarette and matches combination in his ashtray, Ray. You’ve been in his room.”

  “I ain’t been nowhere. Been right here all morning.”

  “Ray, you’re stupid. I was here earlier this morning. I talked with Carol. I even gave her a ride to work. She told me about you receiving a telephone call and that shortly after that you left the apartment. You maybe thought she was asleep, but she heard you. She told me about your fight last night.”

  “That’s not right,” he said, shaking his head back and forth. “Not right.” He rubbed his hands across his unshaven face, through his hair. He pushed out his lips and exhaled a deep breath. “She shouldn’t be telling you our stuff.”

  “That’s not the point here. The issue at hand is that you’re lying to me. I’m trying to help you, and you’re lying. I don’t care about you, and I’m only doing this for Kathleen, but I will turn and walk out without a second thought, you keep this up.”

  “Alright, alright…” he said.

  “What do you know about Ramus’ murder?”

  “I was there. You’re right.” He took a swallow of the bourbon. “I even saw him. He was already lullabied when I got there this morning.”

  “You want me to believe he was dead when you got there and then you sat down and smoked a cigarette? That was your butt, right.”

  “Yeah, probably, but that wasn’t today. I was there two days ago. Maybe from then.”

  “So tell me about this morning.”

  “I got this phone call. Some guy. Didn’t even know him. Said he was calling for Charlie. A friend of Charlie’s. Charlie asked him to call, he said. Said Charlie would meet me at his place and that he’d learned something about my bust. Something he thought might maybe help me out. I should meet Charlie in half an hour at his place. So I went over there. ” He crushed out his cigarette.

  “Anyone see you? There’s an old guy, works at the front desk. He see you? Speak to you?”

  “I didn’t talk to no one, and I don’t know if anyone saw me. I wasn’t looking,”

  “Okay. Go on.”

  “I went up to the third floor, to Charlie’s room. I knocked on the door, and somebody said to come in. I stepped in and was right away, bang, hit on the back of the head! I was gone, and when I woke up I saw Charlie on the floor and all the blood. Was a lot of blood, man. I don’t know how long I was out, but I knew to get the hell out. Ran down to the other end of the hall and used the fire escape to leave the building.”

  “Somebody knocked you out? That’s your story?”

  “Yeah, that’s my story, because that’s what happened. I didn’t kill anybody. I’m telling you.”

  Ray reached for another cigarette and lit it with one of his wooden matches. He broke the match in half and dropped the two pieces onto the plate ashtray. It was an old habit he performed without even thinking much about it. Sort of like lying.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  An hour after leaving Ray’s apartment my cell phone rang, and Tetlow was on the other side.

  “What’s on yo…your mind?’ he asked.

  “Your client’s case might get more complicated?”

  “Have you b…become the bearer of b…b…bad news?”

  “Perhaps.” I explained to him
about finding Ramus and my subsequent conversation with Rhodes.

  “You think he w…will be arrested for it?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s a possibility. We should talk some more. Do you have friends you can touch for a background on Ramus?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. When can we meet?”

  “Later today, early even…evening, w…will work. You’re in the Sunset? I have t…t…to go out that way. I can c…come by.”

  “I’ll head home now. I’ll be there the rest of the day.” I gave Tetlow my address.

  “Okay, in a c…couple hours.”

  I drove home as the fog was moving in, took a shower, and was reading a book about Somali pirates when Tetlow arrived.

  “I’ve got good news, and b…b…bad news,” he said, as he sat in the chair I had been in.

  “Let’s hear it.” I plopped onto the small couch across from Tetlow.

  He opened his briefcase and handed me a folder. “The bad news is that the cops have found what they b…b…believe is the m…murder weapon. You told me earlier they hadn’t f…f…found one. They’re running tests on it now. They also m…m…made the connection between Ramus and Rhodes.”

  “They know they did time together?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s pretty quick. Where’d they find the weapon?”

  “That’s what I th…th…thought too. Don’t know any de…details.”

  “What’s the good news?”

  “Ramus has a pretty dir…dirty b…b..background. Could be lots of g…g…guys in his circle do this type of thing. Look at the file.”

  I looked at the pages stapled together. Ramus’ record went back twelve years, starting with an arrest for auto theft when he was eighteen. That was followed by a bust a year later for robbery, two arrests and one conviction for assault, and a heroin possession and sales charge. He’d done two terms for a total of four years.

  “See the l…last one?”

  There was also a report of a recent arrest for armed robbery. Ramus did a jewelry store, but as he sped away he crashed into a telephone pole while avoiding another car that ran a stop sign. Ramus was knocked loopy and suffered a concussion, a crowd gathered, and when the police arrived they found not only two bags of diamonds and jewels, but an unregistered gun.

  “The rob…robbery was just a couple weeks ago.”

  “So?”

  “Look at the last p…page,” Tetlow said.

  I flipped back to the final page of the arrest report and saw a bold red stamp in letters larger than the others. It read: DISMISSED.

  “They kicked it,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “Hell, could be a lot of reasons.”

  “I guess, but it seems odd. And you d…d…don’t think Rhodes is in…involved this killing?”

  “He’s lying whenever he thinks it will help. He’s not too smart. But this murder? I don’t know. Maybe I don’t want him involved because of my daughter-in law’s friendship with him. His alibi is shit though.”

  “What would b…b…be his motive?”

  “He claims Ramus was going to help him with this other thing. The case you caught. Though I don’t see how that could be much. I don’t see a motive.”

  Tetlow shook his head from side to side, and adjusted his glasses as they slipped down his nose. “I should ha…have b…been a gardener or something. Work…working with the earth. My dad was a g…gardener. Never got sick, never under any p…p…pressure, never had p…people lying to him.”

  “My old man was a teacher,” I said.

  Tetlow closed his briefcase and got up from his chair. He smiled at me. “May you and I sh…should have p…paid closer attention.”

  I started to hand the file back to Tetlow, but he raised his hand.

  “You keep th…that. Maybe you’ll see something. We’ll t…talk more.”

  Tetlow left and I returned to my chair and re-opened Ramus’ file. I re-read the background information and the police report on the initial arrest for the jewelry store robbery and the final dismissal of the charges. I didn’t see a thing I hadn’t noticed before until I reached the bottom of the final page and saw the name of the officer handling the case. It was Officer Frank Cole.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Marty Milner stood in front of his bathroom mirror wearing only a pair of black bikini briefs. He was freshly shaved and showered, and he ran his hands through his black hair and slapped at his flat stomach muscles.

  “Fit as a fucking fiddle,” he said.

  He went from the bathroom back into the bedroom. Naked, with her knees propped up balancing a bowl of cereal, Clown Alley Cindi watched Wheel of Fortune on a twenty four inch flat screen television sitting atop a small table.

  “You’re a TV junkie, girl.” He leaned down and kissed one of Cindi’s tits. “I like the game shows. Competing with the contestants.”

  “You ever beat them?”

  “Sure. Not all the time, of course. But sometimes. On this show at least.”

  Milner angled over to a small bedside table where a small pile of cocaine rested on a round blue plate. He scooped up a small pile and using the straw also on the plate hit both nostrils.

  “I got to go out for a while. But I’m coming back with a surprise for you. Stay here.” He moved back to the bed and ran a hand along the inside of Cindi’s thigh. “But don’t get dressed, baby,” he winked at her.

  Milner left his apartment and drove to his mother’s house. He fixed a leaky faucet in the kitchen sink and changed a couple light bulbs in ceiling fixtures. He had a cup of coffee and a piece of the homemade pie his mom always had waiting for him.

  “You’re a good son, Marty,” his mom was saying as he readied to leave. “Nothing at all like that louse of a father.”

  “I love you too, mom,” he said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  From his mother’s house he drove to see Leo, the low cost car parts supplier extraordinaire, at his warehouse. Marty’s two year old Mustang was crying for new chrome spinner rims and his order had arrived the night before.

  “You know, Marty,” Leo said as he counted his money, “You could direct other business my way, and it would reduce your costs even more. Like a commission, you know, ‘bro.”

  “No, I don’t think so, Leo. Have to deal with too many criminals,” he said, laughing. “I’ll keep this just between you and me.”

  “Just think about it,” Leo said, twirling the ends of his thin Fu Man Chu moustache. “Money to be saved, money to be made. That’s my slogan.”

  Marty climbed behind the wheel of his Mustang and slid out into the streets with his new three hundred dollar discounted custom rims looking sharp. Marty made one more stop before returning home. When he walked into his apartment he could hear the television still on in his bedroom and the sound of Cindi’s high pitched giggle.

  “Is that you Marty?” she called.

  “Yeah, it’s me.” He walked into his bedroom and leaned against the door frame. Cindi had on a pink satin Teddy with thin straps that covered only her breasts and her belly.

  “Did you bring me a surprise?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “What is it? Is it something to eat?”

  Milner smiled. “Well, yeah. You can.”

  “Is it something you know I like?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think you’ve ever had it before.”

  “Well, what is it?”

  Milner stood to one side of the door frame. Tall and black and elegant, Lucinda walked past Marty and into the bedroom.

  “Cindi, say hello to Lucinda,” Milner said.

  Lucinda smiled a little devilish grin and moved toward the bed. Cindi straightened up, a little tense. She tossed her head back and her face lost all of her previous enthusiasm.

  “I don’t get it Marty,” she said.

  Milner followed Lucinda and they sat on either side of Cindi. “Oh, I think you understand, baby. It’s another s
tep in your education.”

  Lucinda reached for one of the thin pink straps at Cindi’s shoulder. “You’re very pretty Cindi,” she said.

  “Marty?” Cindi said.

  Milner reached for the second shoulder strap and slid it down Cindi’s arm. The teddy fell to Cindi’s stomach. Lucinda leaned across the edge of the bed and fondled one of Cindi’s breasts and kissed the other one.

  Milner tuned off the bedside lamp and used the remote to shut off the television. Then he leaned into Cindi and slowly, gently pushed her back down on the bed.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Lieutenant McNamara’s telephone call interrupted the first morning in a week I’d slept past seven o’clock. Old habits die hard. It was seven fifteen.

  “You awake?” he asked. “You don’t sound awake.”

  “I am now.”

  “Good. That’s good. I’ve got some news to start your day.”

  “I’m all excited.”

  “Your pal Ray Rhodes was arrested this morning. For killing some guy in a downtown residence hotel. As a matter of fact, I think you know about it. Seems like I read or heard somewhere that you found the body.”

  “Shit,” I said, sitting up in the bed.

  “You are excited. I can tell. You want to come down and talk I’ll fill you in?”

  “Give me an hour,” I said.

  “Make it thirty minutes. I’ve got a full plate today. See you soon,” he said and hung up.

  I got out of bed and went into the study where I had contact information for Tetlow. I called his house, his office and his cell phone, got no answer at any of them, and left messages for him to call me. I triggered a pot of coffee and took a five minute shower. Lou was fed and put into the backyard for his daily reconnaissance, and I was walking into McNamara’s office a few minutes before eight.