Second Chance Page 2

  “Ah, she’s a great lady. Like a second mother to me.”

  He took out a pack of cigarettes and offered me one. I took it, then lit his and mine. He puffed on it and blew smoke away from me.

  “Is Mrs. Manco all right?” he asked.

  “Yes, but she’s asked me to check up on her son.”

  “Angelo?”

  I nodded.

  “Huh.” He stared at me and smoked, not keen to say much.

  I met his gaze. “Let me be blunt,” I finally said. “Is Angelo in any kind of trouble?”

  He studied me closely. “You’re a friend of the Mancos?”

  I pulled a nickel from my pocket. “Want to call and check?” He didn’t take the bait, so I pocketed the coin. Then I took a drag on my half-smoked cigarette, dropped it on the ground, and crushed it with my toe. In the process, my coat opened, and I hoped he’d see the Colt in my shoulder holster. “I want a few answers, and then I’m gone.”

  He saw the gun, then looked at me carefully. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

  “Is Angelo doing anything he shouldn’t be?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t think so. To be honest, lately I haven’t seen him that much. He always seems to be busy.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I don’t know. He doesn’t tell us anything.”

  “Us?”

  “Nico and me. We pal around together.”

  “Angelo got into a scrape a while back, at an old job,” I said.

  “Yeah, but he said he doesn’t want to go to prison, and he doesn’t want any more help from his old man, so he’s just working until he can move out of their house. But if you don’t believe that, maybe you should ask him yourself.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  He hesitated. “You’re not going to do anything to Angelo, are you?”

  I gave him a cold smile. “That depends on him. Thanks for the information.” I tapped him on the chest. “This stays between us. Capisce?”

  His eyes darted to my gun. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Good.” I tipped my hat at him and left.

  ***

  Allied Insurance is in a large brick building on South Broadway. I parked on a side street and walked through a big wooden door into a spacious lobby. On one side, chairs lined the walls, and on the other was a long table displaying brochures. In the center of the room was a big metal desk. Behind it sat a young woman with big brown eyes and hair done in smooth, swept-back rolls. She was busy writing something on a calendar, but she stopped and looked up at me.

  “May I help you?” she said in a high voice.

  I took off my hat and smiled. “I hope so. I understand Angelo Manco is a salesman here?”

  Before she could answer, a man came out of a doorway behind her. “I’ll be back this afternoon,” he said to her.

  “See you, Frank.” She made a notation in a notebook, then turned back to me. “I’m sorry. People are coming and going all day long.”

  “This place does a lot of business?”

  “Yes, we do.” She sat back and smoothed her black skirt. “You were asking about Angelo?”

  I nodded and flashed my private investigator’s license. “I’d like to talk to him about an insurance matter.”

  She frowned. “He’s not here right now. He’s on a sales call.” She glanced at her notebook. “As a matter of fact, he’ll be out most of the day.”

  “Will he check in before he goes home?”

  “Yes. He has a meeting at four.”

  “I heard he’s a good salesman, and he should be able to help me.”

  “You don’t have anything to worry about with Angelo. He’s very focused, and trust me,” she murmured with pouty lips, “I’ve tried to get his attention.”

  “Oh?”

  Just then, a man built like a linebacker stomped through the door behind her. He was followed by a tall man who blinked nervously.

  “This is a nightmare,” the big guy fumed as he approached her desk. “Jane, I told you to –” He suddenly realized I was standing there, and he cleared his throat. “Excuse me.” Then he thumped her desk. “Did you call my lawyer?”

  “Yes, sir. He was busy, so I left a message saying he should call right away.”

  “Good Lord, where’s that man when I need him?” He wiped sweat off his brow with a handkerchief and dropped a note on her desk. “I’ve got to head out, and I don’t know when I’ll be back. If you hear from him, tell him to call me at that number.” He turned to the other man. “Wilbur, you’ve got one more day to straighten out this mess.” Then he jammed a bowler hat down on his head and stormed out the entrance without another word.

  Wilbur glanced at me, then swallowed hard and turned to Jane. “You haven’t seen it?” he asked her.

  “No.”

  He sighed, then turned and walked with stooped shoulders through the rear door and was gone.

  Jane waited until the door closed, then she mouthed a “sorry” at me. “Can I just tell you it’s been a long morning?”

  I nodded sympathetically, then glanced over my shoulder at the entrance. “Who was that?”

  “The boss.”

  I pointed at the rear door. “And that?”

  “He runs errands for us.”

  “Is the boss usually so …”

  “Gruff?” She sighed. “It’s worse today.”

  She seemed chatty, and I gave her a conspiratorial smile to keep her talking. “What’s going on?”

  “Well …” She leaned forward, her ample chest grazing the keys on the typewriter. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but yesterday we had some money disappear. A lot of money. That’s why the boss is so angry, mainly at Wilbur.”

  “Wilbur’s skimming off the books?”

  “Oh, nothing like that.” She hesitated. “Wilbur takes deposits to the bank on a regular basis, and he was doing that yesterday. But he left his briefcase on one of those,” she waved her hand toward the chairs, “while he went back to his office. When he came back, the envelope of money he keeps in his briefcase was gone. It’s funny, I keep telling him it can get busy around here, and I sometimes have to go to the back to meet with the boss. Wilbur shouldn’t leave things lying around, but he’s forgetful, and too trusting.” She let out a disdainful laugh. “Even the boss’s wife – she comes in now and again – she scolds Wilbur about it. But he didn’t learn, and now …” She sighed, and then straightened up. “But don’t you worry about that. We do a good job here, and I’m sure that Angelo can help you with whatever you need.”

  “I’m sure he can,” I said.

  “May I take your number?”

  “I’ve got a lot of running around to do myself,” I said. “I’ll give him a call later today to discuss things.”

  She frowned, as if worried she may have cost Angelo a sale. “He has a meeting at four, but it should wrap up in a half-hour or so.”

  “Good.”

  I thanked her and left. As I stepped outside, my mind was on one thing. Vera Manco had said that yesterday morning she’d seen an envelope of money in Angelo’s coat pocket.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Angelo deserves an in-depth look, I thought as I walked back to my car.

  I drove to a gas station a few blocks away, parked by a pay phone that was around the side of the building, and called Vera Manco.

  “It’s Dewey Webb,” I said when she answered.

  “Mr. Webb, have you found out anything about Angelo?”

  “I’m looking into some things now. Have you been able to talk to him about the envelope of money?”

  “No. He came home very late last night and I was in bed. And he left before breakfast this morning. He called a while ago and said he would be going out tonight, and I shouldn’t expect him for dinner. That’s not like him. He usually comes home and has dinner and changes before he goes back out.”

  “I see.”

  “I asked him what was going on, but he shushed me and said everything was fine. Then he said he had to go
and hung up.” Worry filled her voice.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing,” I said, even though I had my doubts.

  “Please, let me know if you find out anything.”

  “I will.”

  I hung up, went back to my car, and stopped at a café for lunch. Then I drove to my office on Sherman Street. It’s an old Victorian house that has been converted for business, and I have two small rooms on the second floor. I checked for messages with Ida, who works at the accountant’s office down the hall. I can’t afford to have a secretary just for the few calls or visitors that come my way. Ida can see my door, and she watches for visitors and gets their names for me when I’m away. She’s a jewel.

  “All’s quiet,” she said in her Southern drawl.

  She was hard at work, so I thanked her and went to my office. I spent the afternoon sending out an invoice, paying some bills, and reading the newspaper. Then I called Clara to let her know I’d likely be late again, and at 3:30, I was parked back on Broadway, where I could see Allied Insurance. Shortly before four, a blue older-model Buick turned into a parking lot on the side of the building. A moment later, a young man with dark hair walked around the corner of the building and into the main entrance. Angelo Manco.

  I sat back, smoked a cigarette, and waited. Time ticked slowly by, and the fall air grew chillier, so I shoved my hands in my coat pockets. Ten minutes after five, Angelo emerged from the building along with a few other men. They chatted as they walked to the parking lot, and then cars started driving out of the lot. The blue Buick turned north on Broadway. I waited for it to get a ways ahead, and I followed.

  The Buick drove to State Bar and Grill on California Street, across from the Denver Post Building, and Angelo went inside. I could see through the windows as a waitress seated him at a table near the back of the restaurant. Once he was reading the menu, I got out of the Plymouth and walked into the restaurant. I asked for a booth near the door, slid into it, and watched Angelo. He ordered, then sat and sipped a cup of coffee.

  When the waitress came by, I ordered a roast beef sandwich and a Coke. It was an easy meal that I could take with me if Angelo suddenly left. But I needn’t have worried. When his meal arrived, he ate slowly, not paying attention to anything but his food. No one joined him.

  I ate as well, then leaned back and watched him. When he asked for his check, I did the same, and when mine arrived, I left money on the table and hurried back outside. Angelo emerged from the restaurant a few minutes later, strolled to his car, and drove off.

  He headed into downtown and parked near Sixteenth and Glenarm. I parked down the block and watched. He seemed oblivious to my presence as he sauntered to a movie theater that was showing White Heat, with James Cagney. He bought a ticket and went inside.

  I jumped out of my car, ran up to the ticket counter and purchased a ticket. Then I pulled down my hat, walked through the lobby and into the theater. The movie was just starting, and I took a seat at the back. It took me a minute, but I saw Angelo halfway down, sitting by the aisle. We both stayed where we were through the whole movie. My mind was on Angelo, and I didn’t pay much attention to anything but him. When the movie ended, I ran outside and was in my car when Angelo walked out and got in his Buick.

  It was dark and chilly as he drove west on Colfax to a small, two-story apartment building near Sheridan and Twentieth. He parked next to the building and his headlights winked out. I pulled into a place down the street and grabbed my Bausch & Lomb binoculars from the glove box and watched him.

  Angelo walked around to an outside stairwell, climbed to the second floor, and stopped at the third unit from the stairs. He knocked, and when no one answered, he pulled a key from his pocket and let himself in. A moment later, a light went on in a window next to the door, and Angelo briefly appeared before he drew the curtains closed.

  I had parked down the street, and I waited a few minutes, then got out and walked up to the building. I found a small alcove with mailboxes that were neatly labeled. On one was L. Scarpetta. Leroy. Angelo’s buddy.

  I tipped my hat back. Were Leroy Scarpetta and Angelo in cahoots? Had they stolen the money from Allied Insurance, and were they now going to split the cash? I had no idea if that was true, but I was going to wait to see what happened when Leroy came home.

  I hurried back to my car, where I could easily see Leroy’s unit. I waited and could have used a cigarette, but I didn’t want the glowing tip to give me away, so I waited and fidgeted without lighting up. A half hour passed, and then a light-colored Cadillac drove down the street. I took off my hat and hunkered down as the headlights flashed nearby.

  The car parked at the corner, and a woman with long blond hair got out. She wore a dark dress and heels, and no overcoat, even though it was chilly. Her walk was sultry as she made her way to the apartment building and up the stairs. She paused in front of Leroy’s unit, then knocked on the door. It opened and Angelo said something to her. She leaned in and they kissed passionately. Then Angelo stepped aside to let her in, and the door closed.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The light in the window soon went out. I sat in my car, tapped the steering wheel, and thought about Angelo. I now knew what he was doing, at least on some of the nights when he wasn’t at home. But what about the money that had been stolen from Allied Insurance? Was he the thief? Vera had said she’d seen an envelope with money in Angelo’s coat pocket. Would he be dumb enough to have it with him when he was meeting a dame? I doubted that, but I also doubted that he’d left the money at home where his mother might find it.

  I watched the apartment for a few more minutes, then grabbed some sturdy wire from the back seat and got out. I stood by the car and listened. It was after ten, and the neighborhood was quiet. I walked across the street and into the lot where Angelo had parked. In the dark, most of the cars looked the same, but I finally found his blue Buick. I tried both doors, but they were locked. It didn’t take me long to fashion a hook with the wire, and I shoved it through a crack between the top of the window and the door frame. In seconds, I was able to get the door open. I glanced around.

  Still quiet.

  I sat down in the driver’s seat and began searching the car. I checked the glove box and seats, then bent down and felt under them. Beneath the passenger seat, my hands hit something. I pulled out an envelope and looked inside. It was full of money and some checks made out to Allied Insurance. I thumbed through it, figuring there was at least a few thousand in cash there.

  “What kind of fat-head leaves this much money right under the seat?” I muttered. “Dumb move.”

  I put the envelope in my coat pocket, got out and locked the car, then hurried back to my Plymouth. Leroy’s apartment was still dark. An hour later, the window lit up, and moments after that, the woman emerged. She descended the steps and walked down the sidewalk, hips swaying. She strolled down the block, and got into her Cadillac. I didn’t worry about Angelo, but watched her car move into the street and turn the corner, and then followed with my headlights off.

  The Cadillac reached Sheridan and turned right. When I reached the corner, I saw it waiting to turn east on Colfax. I let a car pass, then I flicked on my headlights and got onto Sheridan. The light at Colfax changed, and the Cadillac turned. I drove slowly, and just before the light changed, I gunned the engine and spun onto Colfax. The Cadillac was a few blocks ahead. I kept pace, hoping the woman was too distracted to notice me.

  She drove past downtown, and eventually turned north on Washington. I again turned off my headlights and stayed far back as she drove north, and she finally crossed Eighth Avenue and slowed near a large three-story house with lots of windows and a long front porch with columns. She pulled into the driveway, and I parked at the corner and quickly shut off the engine.

  The woman was oblivious to me as she emerged from the Cadillac. She slowly walked around the front of the car, and just as she reached the front porch, the door opened. A big man in a white shirt, his tie askew, gestured angrily a
t her. I’d seen the man before. It was Angelo’s boss.

  The two argued for a moment, then she pushed past him and into the house. The door shut. I got out of the Plymouth, hustled across the street, and sneaked up the driveway. I paused under an open window.

  “Where you were tonight, Louise?” the man was saying.

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “I pay the bills, so it is. Were you seeing someone?”

  “No, darling.”

  “If you are, I’ll kill him.”

  “I’m tired, John, and I’m going to bed.”

  “Where’s my gold cigarette case?”

  “I returned it. You don’t deserve it.”

  “What?” John yelled. “Did you lose money doing that, or did they give you full value?”

  I couldn’t hear her reply, and then their voices faded as they moved to a different part of the house. I dashed back to the Plymouth and drove off. Angelo was involved with the boss’s wife, and it seemed likely that he’d also stolen money from his work. What more could he have gotten himself into?

  Angelo would panic when he didn’t find the money under the car seat, but that was okay. I’d talk to him eventually and let him know I’d taken it. But first I wanted to know more about Louise. I had a hunch about her and her motives.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The next morning at seven, I was again parked down the block from Louise’s house. At 7:30, John – at least I had a name for Angelo’s boss – left in the Cadillac that she’d driven the night before. Nothing happened for two hours, and then another Cadillac, this one black, pulled out of the driveway with Louise at the wheel. I followed her as she drove downtown to a bank, and then to Neusteter’s on Sixteenth and Stout Streets.

  She wore a red dress and black heels, her long blond hair hanging over one side of her face. Eyes turned as she walked into the store. She spent the morning shopping, buying a few expensive dresses and some gold jewelry. At noon, she left and went to Baur’s restaurant on Curtis. I lounged in the confectionary and watched as she met a young, blond-haired man. I’d brought an old Dacora 35mm camera with me, and I took a quick picture of Louise and her friend before a waitress escorted them to a booth near the back.