“Elliot won't be on the street now,” Lula said. “Maybe around eleven. The corners are always busy after church. After church is time to pick up a ho and get high.”
I returned to my apartment for breakfast and a change of clothes. Lula went shopping for something to settle her stomach. And Ranger went home to the Batcave to eat tofu and tree bark. The plan was to rendezvous again at eleven.
The phone was ringing when I walked in the door, and my message light was blinking. Four new messages.
“Where have you been so early in the morning?” my mother wanted to know when I snatched up the phone. “I called an hour ago and nobody was home.”
“I went out to run.”
“Have you seen the paper?”
“No.”
“They found bodies in Mo's basement! Four bodies. Can you imagine?”
“I have to go,” I said. “I have to get a paper. I'll call back later.”
“You left your pocketbook here.”
“I know. Don't let Grandma play with my gun.”
“Your grandmother is out to church. Says she needs more of a social life. Says she's going to find herself a man.”
I disconnected and played back my messages. My mother, Mary Lou, Connie, Sue Ann Grebek. They were all reporting on the newspaper article. I called next door to Mrs. Karwatt and asked if she had a paper. Yes, she did, she said. And did I hear about the bodies in Mo's basement.
Three minutes later I was back in my kitchen with Mrs. Karwatt's paper, and my phone was ringing again. Lula this time.
“Did you see it?” she shouted. “Old Penis Nose made the paper! Said how he was picked up for carrying and then disappeared, and how he was under suspicion. Newspaper said a source told them the bodies in Mo's cellar could be drug related. Hah!” she said. “You bet your ass.”
I read the article, started coffee brewing, took a shower and unplugged my phone after three more calls. This was the biggest thing to hit the burg since Tony the Vig was found dead in his attic, hanging from a crossbeam with his pants down and his hand wrapped around a record-breaking hard-on. Hell, maybe Mo was even bigger than Tony V's wanger.
And the best part of all of this was that I was finally the good guy. No more bullshit about how Uncle Mo would never do anything wrong. The man had a maggot farm in his cellar.
“Looking good,” I said to Rex.
I laced up my boots, wrapped a scarf around my neck and went with the black leather jacket. I hopped into the Buick and drove over to my parents' house. Grandma Mazur was taking her coat off in the foyer when I arrived.
“Did you hear about the bodies?” she asked.
“Morelli and I made the discovery” I said.
Grandma's eyes opened wide. “No kidding! Were you there when they dug them up? Are you going to be on TV?”
I retrieved my pocketbook from the hall closet and did a fast check of the contents. “I don't think I'll be on TV.”
“Boy,” Grandma said, “I sure would have liked to have been there.”
“How was church?” I asked.
“Boring,” she said. “A big waste of time. We got a bunch of duds in that congregation. Nobody hot to trot. I'm gonna try the bingo hall tonight. I hear they got some live lookers coming to bingo.”
Ranger was already parked when I swung into the municipal lot on Woodley. He was dressed in army fatigues and a khaki flight jacket.
“What's up?” I said, by way of greeting.
“I got word on one of my FTAs. Earl Forster. Robbed a liquor store and shot the clerk in the foot. Jumped on a three-hundred-thousand-dollar bond. Just got a phone call saying Forster's stopped by to see his girlfriend in New Brunswick. I have a man in place, but I need to be there for the takedown. Can you handle the search for Harp by yourself?”
“No problem. Lula knows what he looks like. She knows his corners.”