For my family
THE GUMSHOE DIARIES:
"Father Hollyweird"
Chapter Five
Alexandria
Hotel – Room 1124…December 1, 2009…11:30pm
I’ve
never really had what you’d call a poker face, ask anyone, not ever. But I was doing my best to manufacture one right now.
This was the best hand I’ve been dealt all year, four Kings staring back at
me in all their regal splendor. I silently swallowed a ‘woot woot’ and carefully kept my eyes on the five cards in front
of me and the huge pot at the center of the table. I know better than to make
eye contact with the other players, that’s always a dead giveaway, shows way too
much confidence. But damn it’s hard to suppress a shit eating grin when you’re sure
you’ve got the winning hand. Only two other scenarios could best me, four aces
or a straight flush. Four aces was out because my fifth card was the Ace of
Diamonds. That left a straight flush and the odds of that happening was pretty
low with six players at the table. That meant I was in the catbird seat and it
felt pretty damn good.
So
it was down to me and the Manzano brothers, Angelo and Fat Johnny. Johnny had
been the aggressor on this hand betting heavy and raising often. Aggression was his
tell, it meant that he was bluffing. Angelo on the other hand was a harder
read. He wasn’t as brash as his brother and had a good poker face, you never
knew what was up his sleeve. If he stayed in it was because he was holding some
pretty good cards, four of something or maybe a full house. But the odds were
in my favor, I was sure that I had him beat. For a nanosecond I felt a little pang of
guilt for all of the free food and drink that I consumed regularly at the boys downtown
restaurant, Bella Terra, and actually considered folding my hand and giving
him the pot. Nah, that kind of generosity would only confuse them, they were
used to me taking advantage of our friendship, it was part of my charm.
“Come on Whitey, we ain’t got all
night! Are you in or out?” whined Iggie.
Bob ‘Iggie’ Ingram was a regular at
these games and a long time buddy from back in the day in Southeast Asia.
Currently he was a Detective First Grade with the LAPD, my former employer,
which was his tough break I guess.
“Stifle yourself Iggie, you’re not
even in this hand. Besides, twenty bucks is pretty rich for my blood. I don’t
nap for a living on the City’s time, I actually have to work for what I earn!”
I answered sarcastically.
“Up yours gumshoe,” he replied as he
flipped me the bird and stuffed some smokehouse almonds into his gob.
Johnny tapped a heavy class ring on
the table and joined Iggie’s camp, “Well, are you gonna call me or what?” he
asked, raising a thick eyebrow. I had them right where I wanted them now.
“OK fat boy, I see your twenty and
raise you twenty. What do you say to that Manzano #2?” I answered with a winner’s
flair. Johnny looked at his cards then across the table to his older brother.
“Don’t look at me big shot, they’re
your cards and we ALL know you’re bluffing,” Angelo said with a wicked grin.
Johnny tossed his cards into the pot at the center of the table in a huff. “Fuck
you Angelo!” he said disgustedly as he emptied his bottle of Miller Lite and
grabbed another from the cooler beside him.
Angelo smiled, “Just you and me now
Whitey. I’ll call your twenty. What’s ya got Paley?”
Proudly I laid out my four cowboys with
the ace kicker. “Read em and weep suckers,” I said, reaching across the table
to reel in my winnings.
“Not so fast slick,” replied Angelo,
blocking me with his left hand as he laid down his own cards with his right
hand. He had a baby straight, two, three, four, five, and six. All of them from
the ‘heart’ family.
I stared at the cards ignoring the
groans and laughter around the room. “Of course,” I mumbled as Angelo raked the
biggest pot of the night to his side of the table. My record was safely in
tack, I was still the unluckiest sap on the planet!
Johnny
got up and walked over to console me. He put his giant hands onto my shoulders
and squeezed nearly busting my clavicle. “Tough break Whitey, but you shoulda
seen the look on your face,” he said not even trying to hide his bellowing
laughter.
“Hardee-har-har,” I replied as I
twisted free from his Frankenstein like grip.
“Okay fellas that hand cleaned me out,
let’s call it a night. I’m gonna need a month of paydays to cover next month’s
game.”
The
group begrudgingly complied and went about finishing their beers and packing up
their stuff. Iggie nudged Carmine Epstein who had fallen asleep before the big
showdown between the Manzano boys and yours truly. Carmine was the super in my
building. He was easily the oldest player at the game by a good twenty plus
years or so. And that was saying a lot since the rest of us were closer to
retirement age than draft age. Carmine snorted himself back to consciousness
and looked around the room rubbing his tired eyes.
“What did I miss?” he asked through a
yawn.
“Not much, Whitey lost all his dough
is all,” answered Iggie with a smirk.
“Oh, the usual,” replied Carmine as he
drained the last couple of tepid swallows from a can of Budweiser.
The
fellas meandered towards the door with their assorted coolers and totes. They
waived and nodded as they filed through the door and out into the hall one by
one. “Close the door behind will ya,” I hollered while I busied myself with a
little clean up. I was packing the poker chips back into the case when I heard
the door slam. I didn’t look up when I heard him flop into my recliner. I didn’t
need to look up to know who it was as my place suddenly reeked of Aqua Velva.
That could only mean one person.
“Lose again Whitey,” asked my visitor.
“Would you believe me if I said I won
big?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so. What’s on your
mind Oscar? It’s a little late for you to be busting my balls. I thought you
were a big shot now Chief Celaya, why didn’t you send one of your goons to work
me over?”
Oscar
Celaya was the new Chief of Police in Los Angeles, but back in the day he was
my commanding officer at the Hollenbeck station. He was also the a-hole who encouraged
my early retirement and ended my career. He’s been a pain in my ass ever since.
“Yeah I guess I could have, but I’m
here to deliver a personal message from His Honor the Mayor,” he answered.
“Do tell. What does that slimy
headline hound want from me?”
“He says, and I quote, tell that no good mick to keep his blarney
nose out of the Egyptian Theater investigation, end quote.”
“I see. What’s he worried about? He
afraid that I’ll solve this caper before you do and steal his front page photo
op?”
“Something like that,” chuckled Oscar.
“Look Whitey, I don’t like that
peacock any more than you do. But, he still signs my checks. I’m too close to
retirement to risk my pension by crossing that little prick. I don’t have to
tell you how vindictive he can be.”
“Alright Chief, what’s on your mind?”
Oscar
settled deeper into my comfy chair and crossed his legs. “I know that you’re
working for the Church on this case,” he said.
“How exactly do you know that?”
“Doesn’t matter, I don’t care who you’re
working for. But this case could blow the lid off of this town if we let our kibitzing
mayor manipulate the newshounds into throwing gasoline onto a fire. I’m
proposing that we work together on this. I’ll be Mr. Inside and you’ll be Mr.
Outside. In other words I’ll stay out front and feed the mayor tidbits that
will allow him to grandstand without interfering with the investigation.
Meanwhile you can do the real work outside of the spotlight, I’ll give you
access to whatever we uncover as well as assign Iggie Ingram and Becca Tran to
work with you under the radar. You were a good detective Whitey, I’m sorry for
the way you lost your shield, but like I told you, His Honor is a vindictive
man. I'm hoping that we can team up and close this case quietly from the shadows.”
“Why are you reaching out to me Oscar?
That’s not like you.”
“Honestly?”
“Yeah, honestly.”
“This may surprise you but I happen to
be a pretty good Catholic, devout in my own way.”
“You’re right, that does surprise me.”
“Look, I’m tired of my Church and my
Faith being dragged through the mud by the print vultures. I’m not saying that we
haven’t earned those black eyes, I’m just saying that I’m tired of it. I need
your help to keep this investigation from becoming a media circus. The Mayor
would like nothing more than a big scandal on his turf that he could use as a
springboard for a credible run at Governor.”
“What if this is scandalous? What if
the Church is at the center of that young lady’s twisted actions?”
“The truth is the truth. I just want to
make sure that the truth is discovered with good police work and not
manufactured by not so good journalism. You get my drift?”
I
stared at Oscar for a full ten count before answering. I sat back down at the
poker table and pulled two bottles of beer from a cooler on the floor. I set
the cold brews on the table in front of me and twisted off the caps. “Alright
Oscar, let’s talk it over,” I said, inviting him to join me. He got up and
walked over to the poker table and took a seat across from mine. He reached
across the table and grabbed one of the beers. I picked up the other and we
clinked the long glass necks together.
“Cheers. So, how do you want to play this Chief?”