A Collection of Short Mystery Stories

By Robert S. Mulholland

The Missing Witness: Les Davidson a Private Investigator is determined to find a missing witness before the law inforcement does,
Steve's Quevents: Stephen P. Miller is a happily married who is hopefully going to be a Junior Partner in his firm when fate steps in and changes his plans.
Where There's A Will: Will Wicks marrys a woman in later life expecting a life of leisure, but he is very disappointed very much how things worked out.
Playing Detective: Frankie Ryan is a cab driver who is intrigued reading murder mysteries and one of his fares is a Psychology Professor who also is interested in murder mysteries.
Bumble Bees Please: Sandy Taylor a former marine has a fool proof crooked scheme to be a wealthy man and is willing to sacrifice living in the wild until things cool off.
You Can't Lose: Money is the root of all evil, but it's hard to look the other way sometimes. A sure-fire system can turn a person's head.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: May 3, 2011
• ISBN: 9781257678266

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A Collection of Short Mystery Stories

A Collection Of Short

Mystery Stories

By Robert S. Mulholland

EIGHT INTRIGUING SHORT STORIES OF LOVE, GREED, CRIME, MYSTERY, FANTASY AND MURDER IN THE LIVES OF DIFFERENT ORDINARY PEOPLE IN VARIOUS WALKS OF LIFE.

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Copyright © 2013, Bob Mulholland

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

The Missing Witness

By Robert S. Mulholland

Les Davidson looked at his watch; his visitor was fifteen minutes late for their appointment. Davidson sat back and stretched his long legs that seemed too long for his six-foot frame.  His grey hair was cropped short which made him look younger than his forty-seven years. He decided to wait another five minutes before closing up and going home. Hearing the elevator stop at his floor, he was sure it was his expected visitor because of the lateness of the hour.  A short slim figure walked into the office without knocking.  It was the crime boss himself wearing a fedora that looked too big for his pot-marked face.  Tony Maretti apologised for being late and sat in front of Les's big mahogany desk.

What can I do for you Tony?  Les asked breaking the silence. You heard about Charlie Gallucci disappearing?  The mobster replied in a raspy voice.

Yeah, I heard, and the word is you had him bumped off.

Don't I wish.  He not only gave the Crown Attorney the slip, but he got away from me too.

The Private Investigator listened as the Crime Boss told Les he wanted him to find Gallucci before the police get him.  It was ironic that what was once his archenemy was now coming to him for assistance.  There was no love lost between these two men, but both had a reason to locate the missing mobster.  When Davidson was on the vice squad he would have given his right arm to put Maretti behind bars.  Here he was now sitting in his office soliciting Davidson’s services.

It had been almost four years now since that bastard O'Quinn turned him in for taking a pay-off.  Davidson had to resign from the force after eighteen years service.  With his severance pay and pension money, Les established a Private Investigation Business.  With his past connections from working on the vice squad, he had built up a very successful business.  Although he was making more money than when he was on the force, he still resented O'Quinn taking his job as head of the vice squad.  If he could find Gallucci before the police it would make O'Quinn look bad.

O'Quinn had arrested Gallucci on a murder charge and a deal was made with the Crown Attorney.  They would reduce it to manslaughter if Gallucci would co-operate with the prosecutor.  Charlie Gallucci was Tony Maretti's right hand man and could testify against the crime boss's activities.  The law had been trying to get something on Maretti for years without success.  Gallucci had agreed to testify and this was a coup for O'Quinn.  Before they could get his testimony and issue a warrant for the mobster's arrest, Gallucci escaped from the Police Station.  The vice squad had lost their witness and hopes of nailing Maretti were lost unless they could find him alive.  By this time the newspapers got the story and the escape of the key witness made the headlines.

As Les Davidson listened to the crime boss tell him he would pay him whatever he asked. The private detective could see the shadows of two of his bodyguards through the frosted glass of his office door

Okay Tony, I'll see what I can do but, my fee will be Five hundred bucks a day plus expenses.  If I do find him for you, I want twenty-five grand.

It’s a deal Davidson, you’re hired and all you have to do is find out where he is and report to me.

They shook hands in agreement, both having they’re own reason for wanting to find the missing Gallucci.

The big private investigator sat back in his chair thinking about the situation after Maretti left.  He knew that the mobster would have Gallucci whacked once he found him.  That part didn't bother Les at all.  What he wanted was to make O'Quinn look like an idiot in the eyes of the department.  If he could find the missing witness before the police then he'd make that happen.      Lieutenant Davidson was a ruthless individual who stepped on a good many toes to get ahead in the Police Department. He used every trick in the book including lies and extortion to satisfy his greed for money and power.  Sergeant O'Quinn reported Davidson for taking kick backs and ended up getting his job.  He had set up a scam for Davidson to take a bribe and then reported him.  O’Quinn was a good honest cop and Les Davidson hated his guts.  He was determined to use all his police and underworld connections at his disposal to get his revenge.  First and foremost he had to locate Charlie Gallucci and time was of the essence.  The reason being if Maretti found Gallucci first, his plan of publicly embarrassing Lieutenant O'Quinn was dead.

Walking over to his filing cabinet, Davidson pulled out a file he had on Charles D. Gallucci. He had a file on every criminal, friend, cop, and lawyer that he ever had contact with.  These were not regular files, but data of a personal nature.  He had information, photographs, and newspaper clippings pertaining to the individuals in his files.  There was a record of any incriminating incident he could gather on people for future reference.  They contained every petty or serious offence that the person committed in the past.  Les Davidson used them ruthlessly to extort information or action from friend or foe alike.  This was his own private set of records that helped him succeed as a cop and a private investigator.  A smile crossed his rugged and ruddy features as he thumbed through the Gallucci file.

His eyes narrowed as he squinted to see the man get into his Mercedes and back out of his driveway.  When five minutes had passed, he casually got out of his car and walked towards the big two-storey home.

Mrs. Maretti? he asked, when a tall attractive woman in her mid thirties answered the door.

I'd like to talk to you about a Charlie Gallucci.

Look here mister, if you're from the Police or the news media, I've got nothing to say.

No, Mrs. Maretti, I'm a private detective and I happen to know that Mr.Gallucci was more than a casual acquaintance of yours.

The woman's face reddened and hesitated as she tried to come back with an answer to the question,

There's no need to deny it my dear lady, I have photos of you and Charlie at the Chez Paris. Les exclaimed.

This was Tony Maretti's brother's wife.  Charlie Gallucci and her had been having an affair for the past five years.  This was playing with fire because if her husband or Tony found out, she and Gallucci would be dead meat.  Davidson had kept this little gem of information in his files for future use.  If anyone knew where the mobster's right hand man was, it would be his lover.  He assured her that he would keep their secret if she told him where Charlie was.

Honest to God, I don't know. Did my husband hire you to check up on me?

I wouldn’t be asking you the whereabouts of your lover if that were the case Mrs. Maretti.

The hardened ex-cop was staring at the distressed woman who was now trembling.

I mean business lady. Either you tell me what I want to know or I talk to your hubby.

The woman was now in tears and begged him to believe her.  Realising she had to be telling him the truth, he asked her where Gallucci could possibly be.  The bewildered woman told him that Charlie had a cousin in Miami. She was the only person who knew about the cousin and she thought that could be where he is.

What makes you think that?

He mentioned it as a place we could go if our affair was ever uncovered.

Getting the Miami cousin's name, the Private Detective thanked the shaken woman and left.

Back at his office Davidson made some phone calls.  He called the Department Of Immigration, and then the Chicago Times.  He asked a certain newspaper reporter to meet him over a coffee.  Her name was Pauline Kovachs.  She had written an article about Gallucci's escape and it wasn’t very flattering to Lieutenant O'Quinn and the vice squad.  Davidson told her he had some pertinent information about the Gallucci case, but requested anonymity.  Only she was to know who he was and what he was up to.

The female reporter was a young and rather pretty girl and very petite with auburn hair and green eyes.  He knew she was recently hired by the paper and was eager to succeed.  They were sitting in Buck’s Truck Stop just outside of town.  Les wore sunglasses, a fake mustache and a plaid slouch hat.  After an informal introduction to each other, the girl spoke up.

You said on the phone you had knowledge regarding the escape of Charles Gallucci.

That's right. I know for a fact that he wasn’t rubbed out by the Maretti mob.

The shrewd ex-cop went on to tell the young reporter that he was going to find the Prosecutor’s key witness.

He would make a deal with her that would be helpful to both of them if she agreed to it.  He would give her the scoop first if she would continue to write critical articles regarding the stupidity of O'Quinn.  The Kovachs girl seemed excited over the opportunity to get a scoop over the rest of the news media.

I'll have to get the okay from my editor.  But, if you would guarantee us the story I'm sure he will agree.

By the way young lady, there used to be a Kovachs on the Chicago Police Department.  Any relation to you?

Yes, that was my father. she answered sadly.

Les Davidson said no more.  Her father had shot himself by accident while cleaning his service revolver. A plaque in his memory hung on the Police Station wall.

Your father was a good cop.  He told the cub reporter.

The heartless lawman happened to know her father's death was a suicide. It was hushed-up by fellow officers to eliminate any embarrassment to the Kovachs' family.  This was something Davidson also had kept a file on.

He smiled, thinking to himself that if this little girl ever crossed him, it could prove to be useful.  There were skeletons in her family’s closet too he thought.

Rita Smith was Les Davidson's steady.  She was a tall attractive widow in her late thirties. Her long dark brown hair hung over her shoulders and her pale blue eyes were big and beautiful.  For a tall statuesque woman her body was perfectly proportioned.  Les was sitting in Rita’s living room reading a newspaper article.  It was a follow-up article on the escaping of the key witness Gallucci.

That kid is sure raking O'Quinn and his vice squad over the coals.  He remarked to his girl friend.

Rita was doing some needlework and wasn't very interested in the escape episode or the article.  She had met Les at a New Year's dance about a year after his divorce.  They have been going together ever since.

He had decided that he hated marriage and would never remarry.  Rita was a respectable woman and a good companion besides being great in the sack.

Why buy a cow when you can get the milk for nothing. That was his motto.  They’re relationship was clean with no scandal as Davidson wouldn’t think of anyone having anything on him.  He thanked Rita for the lovely supper telling her he had to catch an early flight to Miami.  After a quick embrace and a kiss, he left.

The Miami Airport was crowded; two jumbo jets had landed at the same time. Davidson finally got his one suitcase from the luggage carousal and squeezed into a cab with three other people.  He got off at the Police Precinct he had instructed the cab driver to take him to.  The sergeant at the desk told him that Officer Hayes was in room two-thirty one.

Well, how the hell are you doing Les?  What brings you to Miami from good old Chicago?  Hayes asked as he greeted his former associate from the Chicago Police Force.

I'm here on a private investigation George, and I need your help to find a certain Marie Campbell.

The two men scanned through the City directory and telephone book and came up with three Marie Campbells.

Officer Hayes checked out the police files finding one with a police record.  That one was twenty-two years old and the woman Davidson wanted was in her forties.  This left two others for him to check out to see if one was the cousin of Gallucci.  He told Hayes he'd be back if neither were the woman he was looking for.  Before leaving, Davidson cautioned him not to mention his being in Miami to anyone.  He could count on the officer doing as he asked because he had a file on Sergeant Hayes also.  When the Miami cop was in Chicago, he had a little scam selling confiscated street drugs.  Hayes was aware that his former colleague knew about it.     The first Marie Campbell lived in an apartment on sixty eighth Street.  Getting out of the taxi he casually walked into the building and rang the superintendent's buzzer.  A deep southerner's voice answered,

Hello.

This is the police, I'd like to speak to you, Mr. Day.  The door buzzer sounded and Davidson went in heading for apartment # 101.  Mr. Day was a big black guy with big sleepy eyes and a head of thick white hair.  When he answered his door, he seemed a little perturbed by Davidson's visit.  Les flashed a fake badge he carried for such an event.  Day didn't seem too impressed as if this was an everyday occurrence.

I'm enquiring about one of your tenants in Apartment   # 304, a Marie Campbell.

Ah don't talk to nobody about mah tenants Mister.

At this point Davidson waved a fifty-dollar bill in front of the man's face.

Would this help you answer a few simple questions?

The superintendent grinned and asked Davidson to step into his apartment.

What do ya want to know Sir?

How old is the lady?

About forty, give or take a few years.

Is she married, single, divorced or what?

Single. She tole me she neva got married.

After half a dozen questions, Davidson was convinced that the woman in apartment # 304 was Gallucci's cousin.

Giving Mr. Day another fifty brought out the information that Davidson was hoping to get. Apparently Ms. Campbell has had a male visitor lately.  The man had a dark complexion and was about Davidson's height and build.  This fit Gallucci's description, but Mr. Day said he never got a close look at the guy.  The superintendent said that Marie had different gentleman friends over the years.  This latest guy seemed to be visiting her more often then the others.  The investigator was sure that this guy was Gallucci and left immediately to talk to Ms. Campbell.

Who is it? a female asked through the door when Davidson tapped on it.

It's the police. We are investigating burglaries in the building and want to ask you some questions.

When the woman opened the door, Les flashed his fake badge and asked if he could come in.  Caught by surprise she stepped back and let him in.

Are you Marie Campbell, cousin of Charles Gallucci?

Why yes, why do you ask?

Davidson went on to tell her that Gallucci's life was in danger. If she would tell him how to get in touch with her cousin, he could prevent his murder.

This was his first ploy to get her to speak up but it didn't work. She insisted she hadn't seen her cousin for better than five years. He then realised he would have to play rough.

Look here lady, I happen to know that Gallucci has been visiting you in the past month.

That's an outright lie. I haven't heard a word from him in over two years.  She answered and seemed to be getting annoyed now by this intruder.

Where is he Ms. Campbell?  I'm beginning to lose my patience with you. He fired back, getting angry now himself. Finally, after her continually denying Gallucci's visits or whereabouts, Davidson used his ace in the hole.

You like your job here in Miami, Ms. Campbell?

What does my job have to do with my cousin?

The sneaky sleuth told her he had checked out her visa status with the American Immigration.  She was working without a Green card and was therefore an illegal alien.     The woman became delirious and started to cry in a fit of despair.

Please...oh God, please don't report me. I love it here; I love my job. It’s my whole life.

Now we're getting somewhere. Where is Charlie Gallucci Ms. Campbell? Tell me that and your secret will be safe.

The last I heard from him he was in Chicago.

Who the hell has been visiting you the past few weeks? The only visitor I've had is my boyfriend Dino D'Mico. Davidson was losing his cool. He grabbed the telephone and handed it to the almost hysterical woman.

Call him right now and tell him to come over here right away.  He snarled, figuring he would call her bluff.

She telephoned and talked to someone as Davidson listened with his ear close to the phone.  It was a man's voice and he was questioning Marie as to why she wanted him at her place immediately.  She finally hung up the receiver and looked at Davidson.

What is this going to prove by having my boyfriend come here to the apartment?

I have a reason, I'll know when your supposed boy friend gets here.

The intercom buzzer sounded and Ms. Campbell pressed the door release button to let her visitor in. Davidson slipped his right hand into his jacket and grasped the

9 mm gun in its holster.  He knew if this was Gallucci, he would be armed for sure.  When the visitor knocked on the door as Les stood to one side with his gun drawn.

Marie opened the door and a dark complexioned guy that in no way resembled Gallucci entered.  When he saw the gun in Davidson's hand he was dumbfounded.  Before he could speak, Marie explained the bizarre situation to him. Davidson apologised for the inconvenience but he had to be sure Marie's friend was not her missing cousin.   What he didn't tell them was that Mr. Day had told him that her friend was there that very evening.  He had seen him leave just before Davidson arrived and was wearing a brown tweed coat.  Dino D'Mico was still wearing that coat when he returned to Marie's apartment. The investigator was convinced now that Marie was not harbouring her fugitive cousin.  She was quite aware that it was in the form of a threat when Les asked her to contact him if Gallucci ever shows up. The disappointed Davidson left to head back to Chicago empty-handed.

Joe O'Quinn was reading the newspaper.  The article was in reference to him and his department.  It read that the reporter received a tip from a reliable source that the missing key witness had skipped the country.  O'Quinn was a tall, hefty, red headed Irishmen with a quick temper.  He had been on the force for seventeen years and had a record of being an excellent cop.  He never took a bribe, and despised cops that did.  When he found out that Les Davidson was on the take, he set a trap and got his proof.  Rather than create a lot of bad publicity for the Police Department, Davidson was asked to resign.  Joe had been Les Davidson's assistant and therefore was promoted to head the Police Department's Vice Squad.

Why the hell doesn't this Kovachs broad get off my back.  This is the third article she's put out on the escape of Charlie Gallucci.  O'Quinn thought to himself.  Each article was very critical of Gallucci's escape and the inability of the police to find him.  This one read:

Contrary to popular belief, the key witness was not done in by his former boss and was out there somewhere laughing at the law.  Lieutenant O'Quinn would have us believe that Mr.Gallucci was executed by the mob.  This would justify the police not being able to find the missing witness.  In the meantime Tony Maretti still walks our streets a free man making fools of our legal system.

O'Quinn was enraged at the newspaper article and felt like phoning the editor but decided against it.

Gallucci had asked to go to the washroom at the police headquarters.  He had overpowered his personal guard and casually walked out the back door of the building.  It was as simple as that but what wasn't so simple was how he's evaded the law since then.  An A.P.B. was put out on him immediately with every cop and police informer put on the alert.  There hasn't been a trace of him. It was like the earth opened-up and swallowed him.  It would seem that Tony Maretti had the most to lose and had got to him.  This was the only logical explanation and Lieutenant O’Quinn had hinted as much to the press.  Now this Kovachs girl seems to have information to the contrary he thought.  Her newspaper reports were making a fool out of him and there wasn't a thing he could do about it.  The police commission and the Mayor were getting impatient and they were demanding action.

A big black limousine pulled along side his car at the crowded mall parking lot.  Les Davidson got out of his car and slipped into the back seat of the limousine.

What do you have to report? The sinister character in the shadows across from him asked.

Nothing yet Tony, but I'm working on several things that I hope will prove fruitful.

The mobster listened quietly as Davidson told him about a lead in Miami that drew a blank.  Maretti never asked him how or what his methods were.  He knew the shrewd investigator wouldn't tell him anyway.  He didn't care how Les did it, as long as he found Charlie Gallucci before the police did.  If anyone could track down the missing man, this unscrupulous ex-cop could do it.  Tony Maretti gave the private investigator an envelope with five-one thousand-dollar bills in it.

Whatever you're doing Davidson, double your efforts. I want that bastard's hide before he spills his guts.

The mobster rebuffed Davidson's gesture to hand the money back stating it was an advance. Tony Maretti, getting jittery about Gallucci not being found, was now putting pressure on the private detective.  The limousine disappeared in the darkness leaving Les Davidson alone in the parking lot.

He would pull out all stops to find clues to lead to Gallucci's whereabouts.  He would have Pam Maretti's mail scrutinised by her postman just in case the mobster's brother's wife receives a letter from her lover.  He'd then know the city from where it was sent. He would also pay another guy to check out her garbage to look for any clues regarding Gallucci.  He was having the same scrutiny put on Marie Campbell's mail and garbage.  Davidson would contact every police informer in and out of prison to let him know if anything came up. Somebody, somewhere has got to know where the missing witness is.  This was the private investigator's biggest challenge in his entire career.  He had to solve this one.

Pauline Kovachs was relaxing, having a coffee and

Chatting away with John Waxman, another reporter. Her telephone started to ring and she went over to her desk to answer it.   A male voice said

The sun is bright.   These were the code words Davidson told her he would use.  He then whispered.

Same place, tomorrow at two P.M.  Pauline answered.

I'll be there. and hung up.  This meant that Davidson wanted to meet her at the same restaurant to talk.  This would be their third meeting since the agreement was made between them. Les Davidson was extra careful to keep his anonymity wearing the same sunglasses, false moustache, and the plaid slouch hat.  He was making sure no one knew the