The Three Dollar Phoenix by Walt Sautter (rooftoppers .txt) 📖

the vacant lot down the street. The cops had just left and Ed was calling the glazer to get the window replaced. The police took a report and the chopped meat along with the note. There was little they could do except look for finger prints and check out the poison on the meat. Looking for prints was probably done to make the police work look professional. There must have been a million of them on the door and who knows which of them, if any, belonged to the murderer?
The question about who has a grudge against you, were any threats made, did any unusual people come to the clinic lately, were asked. It all looked very thorough and official, but Ed knew very little could and would be done. In the back of his mind, he was sure that his persistent search for information relating to Al Druse had something to do with it. Exactly how and why, he didn’t know but somehow he felt there was a relationship. What other reason could there be? He never mentioned any of that to the cops. It was too long and involved. They would probably just think he was paranoid anyway. Then too, who could he accuse?
Rita had taped cardboard over the broken window pane. It stood out like a sign pointing to the damage.
“What happened here?” Sam said in a gravelly voice.
“We had a little problem Sam” said Ed. “Somebody didn’t like Lucky.”
“What you mean - where’s Lucky?” said Sam as he bent over and looked under Rita’s desk to the spot where Lucky was usually lying.
“Somebody murdered him” exclaimed Rita. She continued to explain what had happened.
Sam had liked Lucky. They shared a common origin, the streets and a common task, survival.
“I’m gonna go out in the street and put my ear to the ground and I better hear those mothers ridin’ outta town. I don’t want nobody bustin’ up my part of town or messin’ up on my friends. If I catch ‘em there’s gonna be some heavy bleedin’ goin’ on.” What Sam lacked in diction, he made up for in sincerity. He spoke of revenge and little else that entire day.
A week passed. Sam’s search for retribution ended in vain. The best he could determine from his sources was that a guy from New York was responsible. It was strictly a hit and run operation by a hired gun, so to speak. The identity of the hit man was unknown. The’re million guys in the city that would take a job like that for a hundred dollar bill. The question of who did the hiring was something else. The word was that big money was involved exactly why no one knew.
Ed and Charlie spoke several times on the phone but they hadn’t seen each other since Charlie’s call from Dallas. Charlie said he was sure he was being followed on occasion. Ed thought he might be a bit melodramatic, but then again they did have a lot of information about him. They certainly must have done some detailed investigation to obtain it.
During that week Ed had telephoned Sims’ office at least a dozen times. The secretary knew the sound of his voice by now and didn’t even bother to ask who was calling. He even took the time to go in person after the first ten calls failed to put him in contact with Sims. At each encounter, he was told politely that Mr. Sims was a busy man and would get back to him at a future date, which of course, was never specified and never materialized either. He was a little bit surprised at their patience. They always greeted him in the same unruffled, courteous tone, despite the frequency of his calls and his insistence on talking to Sims.
He had also driven to Caramore a second time.
Angie’s eagerness to see her husband appealed to his compassion and he felt obligated to take her. When they arrived he wondered whether not taking her would have been mare compassionate. Again, Al was unconscious throughout the entire visit. Angie was looking more and more haggard and spoke less and less each time Ed saw her. The whole experience was taking its toll, that was obvious.
Ed spoke to House again and obtained little more information than the last time. When he questioned the name of the admitting physician on Al’s records, House merely alluded to the transitory nature of the many young doctors employed at institutions such as Caramore. He said McCarthy was probably one of those and therefore no one remembered his name. He had come and gone too fast. That’s why when Ed called Caramore, McCarthy’s name was not recognized. Ed attempted to question House on the specifies of Al’s case but each time House suggested that he re-examine the records he had given him.
When he had questioned the nature of the treatment that rendered the patient unconscious during each visitation, House became indignant, suggesting that his knowledge in the area of drug rehabilitation was unparalleled. He added that he made use of the most modern techniques to which Ed was probably not even privy. Ed’s inquisition was so intense, that House became irritated and the conversation ended with House’s abrupt departure. In spite of his efforts Ed learned little more than he already knew.
As Ed sat at his desk, he was writing cut a list of things for Rita to do the following day. He felt a little guilty about burdening her with all the extra work but she said she understood. He had volunteered to take Angie to Caramore for a third time. He wasn’t looking forward to it at all. Each of the other two visits had resulted in a further decay of her spirit and it appeared to him that a state of full blown depression was developing. It wasn’t hard to understand why.
This time he had called Caramore and spoken to House. He had requested that Al’s treatment be postponed until after the visit. He had been assured that the request would be honored and Al would be awake when they came. That would be sure to brighten her spirits. It would be the first time she’d really seen him in over two weeks. Ed was hoping House would make good on his promise.
Just as he completed the list, his telephone rang. It was Charlie.
“Ed, I want to come down and speak to you” he said.
“I thought you were being followed” replied Ed in a half joking manner.
The attempt at humor went right over Charlie’s head.
“I probably am, but I think I can get away if I take the long way to your place. Traffic in the city is pretty rough around this time and unless they’re real good, I don’t think they’ll be able to keep up with me. I’ll go down through Harrison and Ironbound to confuse them.”
Charlie wouldn’t say why he wanted to see Ed in person, he just insisted on coming to the clinic.
Two hours passed and Charlie wasn’t there yet. Ed was just about to give up on his ever coming when an old yellow Ford pulled up to the curb and out he stepped.
“Where the hell have you been?” asked Ed.
“Well, first I borrowed a friend’s car and then I took the long way over like I said I would. That’s why I’m so late. I thought taking a different car would help. They’re probably lookin’ for the BMW” explained Charlie.
“So what do you want to tell me?”
“First, where’s the john? It was a long ride” said Charlie.
When he returned, he began to explain.
“I think my phone and maybe yours is tapped. I don’t have any proof but how else did they get all that information about you? I’m hoping that if they are tapped, it’s just a recording bug. Look out the window. Do you see any unusual cars or people?”
Ed moved to the window. Everything looked normal. No unfamiliar cars, no unfamiliar people.
“If you were being followed, it would probably be white guys and I don’t see any of them outside. They’d stand out here like tits on a bull” said
“If somebody was there actually listening to the phone bug, they would be here now, so I guess I was right. I don’t think anyone will question me about seeing you, even it they do hear me talking to you on the tape because then they would have to admit they’re tappin’ the phones. I don’t want anybody to know what I’m telling you” continued Charlie.
“This might not have anything to do with Al but then again, maybe it does. Yesterday, they fired the whole grounds crew and some of the maintenance guys at the stadium. I mean all of them, all the guys that used to work with Al. They claimed they were drinking on the job and fired the bunch of them”
“Were they drinking?” asked Ed.
“Not exactly. They’d go out for a beer or two at lunch like everybody else. But they’d been doing that for years and nobody ever said anything. Now, all of a sudden, bang, it’s a reason to can them all. They knew about them drinking a couple of beers at lunch before. They never got drunk, not even close. How come they decided to fire them after all these years?”
“Did you speak to any of them about it?” asked Ed.
“A few of them came to the players to ask for help. They thought that we might have some influence with the head office. We all signed a petition asking for them to be reinstated, but so far, no go” replied Charlie.
As he spoke, his eyes darted nervously back and forth between Ed and the street.
“How could they fire everybody?” asked Ed
“Who’s going to kept the place up?”
“Not everybody was let go. There’s still a skeleton crew, maybe a half dozen men mostly the new guys. They said the older men should have known better but the newer ones should get another chance. I guess they’re not going to hire them back either. Somebody said they saw an ad in the Times for maintenance and grounds people today. We’re not going to be practicing at the Stadium anymore either, not until they get a new crew. The word is that we’ll be at a local college field for the rest of the season and use the Stadium for games. That will get the skeleton crew time to get the place in shape for the games” said Charlie.
“This is all very interesting but what’s it got to do with Al?” asked Ed.
“Well, just before all this happened, another fellow that worked with Al was out sick. He supposedly had the same kinda problems, sick to his stomach all the time and tired a lot. Some of the guys went to the management and asked them to look into it. They thought that maybe some of the chemicals they where using at the Stadium might be causing the trouble. Then this other stuff happened, so I think maybe there’s some relationship. Maybe I’m wrong but it seems funny” said Charlie.
Ed had to agree that again the circumstances appeared to be beyond coincidence, but of course, there was always the possibility it was all pure chance. As the conversation continued, Charlie danced between the window and Ed’s desk with ever increasing frequency. After a while, he couldn’t contain his anxiety any longer.
“Ed, I told you everything I can. If I get more information, I’ll