The Crusader Ch. 03

Three of the apartments were leased out; most of the tenants were what was called "Yuppies" at the time. One of the ground floor "condos" was their home for many years. When they passed away they left their home and business to Rollie. He still lived in the same apartment.

The condo had two bedrooms and a bath down a hallway on one side of the apartment with the master suite on the other side. They were separated by what would be called a great room in a house. The kitchen, dining area, and living/family room was all one big open space. Fourteen foot ceilings and ten foot windows along one wall let in a lot of light.

Rollie quickly took a shower and returned to the kitchen table. He got a cup of coffee for himself and sat down. "I don't know why I bother taking a shower; in this heat and humidity; ten minutes after I'm dressed I'm all wet again." He took a drink of coffee, added a little sugar and tried it again. Satisfied with his coffee Rollie looked at Tony.

"What do you need Tony?"

"You're not working right? You're not a cop anymore right?" Tony asked. Rollie nodded his head. "I've got a friend of a friend that needs a...well, an investigator. I thought you having been a Detective First Grade maybe you could help."

"Help with what." Rollie was a little suspicious of the friend of a friend scenario.

"You know Bartolo Rossi?" Rollie nodded. "He's my gumba, known him since the second grade. His wife's uncle has a problem. When Bartolo told me about it I thought of you."

"What's the uncle's name?"

"Frank Rossi," Tony replied.

"Frank Rossi! The Frank Rossi?" Rollie exploded. "Isn't he the brother of the boss of the Rossi crime family?" Rollie didn't wait for Tony's answer. "I don't do favors for those people. Up until a couple of weeks ago I arrested them."

"No, No, Rollie. It's not like that," Tony protested. "Frank's daughter has been kidnapped. He can't really go to the cops, considering who he is and the note from the kidnappers warned him not to. Also if other people in the rackets, his competitors, found out about this they would consider it a sign of weakness and go after Frank's family. He wants to keep his people out of it as much as possible." Tony added. "Frank said his men are great at busting through doors but he needs someone to find the door first."

Tony waited for further objections and when Rollie didn't make any Tony added, "Come to my restaurant tonight and meet Frank. See what he wants before you decide. If you don't like it walk away. But if you can help it'd be worth a lot of money."

Rollie got the coffee pot and refilled the cups. "Money won't enter into it if I decide to help him, but I can't tonight. Jessica and I have tickets to The Muny." Rollie thought a day's delay might resolve the problem and get him out of the middle.

"I'd consider it a personal favor if you'd at least talk with Frank," Tony said. "Maybe tomorrow night?"

Rollie stared at the table for almost 30 seconds before adding, "Okay Tony I'll meet him, just as a favor to you. Tomorrow night 7:30 at your place."

"I'll call and see if that's good for Frank," Tony said.

"He wants me, he'll be there," Rollie replied in a hard voice. "If not let him find somebody else. And I'm not saying I'll do anything but I will listen to him."

The Muny is an outdoor venue located in Forest Park providing theatrical productions, usually musicals during the spring and summer months. Forest Park was opened in 1876 and at the time was on the western border of St. Louis. Of course the city had grown around and further west of the park and it now resembles Central Park in New York City. The Muni offers a chance for the elite of St. Louis to see and be seen. Conversely it is also a great place for normal people to go on dates and even for families to spend an evening doing something besides watching TV.

Later that night, after the show, Rollie and Jessica were sitting in a little coffee bar reliving their evening at The Muny. They had seen a very good stage production of "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers." Jessica watched as a woman wearing a fur wrap over a floor length gown and a man in a tuxedo sat at a nearby table. Rollie just smiled and shook his head.

"It has to be 85 degrees and she's wearing a fur stole," Rollie chuckled. "She must have a cold cold heart."

"Rollie, be nice," Jessica protested but laughed with him. She took a sip of her tea.

"Are you really going to work for a mob boss?" Jessica asked with concern.

"I might help him with a problem, but I wouldn't say I'm going to work for him." Rollie explained the situation than Tony had described. "If a young girl is in trouble I'll have to see what I can do." He looked at Jessica. "Can you understand I have to help her if I can? That's just my way."

Jessica smiled. "Rollie Chambers, The Crusader, saving young damsels in distress." She put her hand on his arm. "You always worry about others don't you? It's one of the things I admire about you Rollie." Jessica grabbed Rollie's hand.

At 7:30 the next evening Rollie entered Rigazzi's. He saw Frank Rossi and another man sitting in the VIP booth near the back wall. The second man's back was to him but as slowly he walked toward them Rollie recognized the second man. It was Vito Rossi; head of the St. Louis crime family. Every major city in the country had a crime syndicate that was the guiding force behind drugs, prostitution, gambling, loan sharking, and a host of other illegal activities. The mob, organized crime, the Mafia, or the Cosa Nostra as they were known; the names all meant the same thing. Vito Rossi and to some extent his brother Frank were the head of that syndicate in St. Louis. They were dangerous and powerful men.

"Detective Rollie Chambers," Vito greeted him. "Please have a seat and get something to eat. Try the beef medallions in wine sauce; Tony made them special for us."

Rollie stood for almost ten seconds before he sat down. "I'm not a detective anymore, I'm just a civilian. And I'm not here to socialize."

"I know. We heard about your...shall we say discontent with the hierarchy of the St. Louis Police Department." Vito's smile would freeze most men in their tracks. It was the smile of a hungry shark. "I'm....."

"Vito Rossi, head of the St. Louis family," Rollie interrupted. "I know who you are Mr. Rossi." He accepted the espresso that the waiter brought and took a small sip. "Let's cut through the bullshit Mr. Rossi. You can't intimidate me, you can't buy me, and you damn sure can't recruit me. Just so we understand each other, I agreed to talk with Frank out of respect and friendship for Tony." Turning to Frank Rossi, Rollie asked, "What's the problem you need my help with?"

Frank turned his head to look at his brother. Rollie said, "I agreed to talk to you Frank, not your brother. Now why do you want my help?"

"I don't think you understand Chambers," Vito said.

"It's you that doesn't understand Vito. You don't come into this." Rollie looked back at Frank. "Frank?"

"Please Vito," Frank said to his brother. Turning back to Rollie he answered, "My oldest daughter, Angela, has been kidnapped," Frank answered with a sigh. He handed Rollie a piece of paper. "This is a copy of the ransom note I got in the mail two days ago."

Rollie picked up the note and read:

We have your daughter. Put $250,000 in small bills in a duffle bag. Call 555-1616 and leave a message when you have the money. We will contact you with further instructions.

Do not contact the police or the FBI or you will never see your little girl again.

"I called the number yesterday and told them I have the money," Frank said dejectedly.

"Nothing since then?" Rollie asked. Frank shook his head. Rollie continued with his thought. "Sort of funny. I mean who ever this is must know you almost carry that kind of money in a rear pocket. Why would they wait to give you instructions on where to make the drop?" Rollie studied the note for a few seconds. "I need a copy of the original envelope too."

Frank and then Vito shrugged. "You're right; I can get that kind of money from my own backup fund."

Rollie said "Burner phone, a throwaway eh? Bought at Radio Shack and untraceable." Frank nodded.

"Tell me about Angela," Rollie requested.

"She's 19, a student at Washington U, and is a Daddy's girl," Frank answered. "I guess I've been over indulgent with her, but what the hell.

"Does she live at home while she's going to school?"

"I lease an apartment near the campus for her. Her friend Greta lives there with her."

"She ever been in trouble? You know drugs, alcohol, or anything?"

"No, she's always been a good kid. Oh a few little things, like skipping school a few times; things like that. Nothing serious, like any teenager."

"Does Angela have a boyfriend? Someone special?"

"She dates a little but no one special." Frank sighed. "I talked to Greta and she said Angela usually goes out with a group of kids"

"Excuse me for a minute," Rollie said. He got up, went to the bar, and ordered a large draft beer; it was a stall for time as he thought. Returning to the booth he asked, "You or your men talk to anyone else?"

"No. Vito wanted to send some of the guys to track her down but I was worried that the people who've got Angela would panic. They could hurt her if they got scared."

Rollie drank his beer and looked at the Rossi brothers. The two were obviously brothers. Vito and Frank were Sicilian and had dark hair and eyes. They also had the stocky build typical of men from that island. The difference between the two was the eyes. Frank's were large, showed intelligence and right now were full of pain. Vito's eyes were small and closely set. They had a laser like quality about them and also showed intelligence. But where Frank's showed pain, Vito's eyes had the look of a large predator on the hunt.

Rollie was sure that if Vito or his men found the kidnappers there would dead bodies turning up in different parts of the city. The problem was that type of action might get Angela killed too. Every time one of the men started to speak Rollie held up his hand to stop them. He was surprised that Vito obeyed his gestures. After two or three minutes, Rollie took a deep breath.

"Okay, I'll look for Angela," Rollie said. "But," he added as Frank started to speak. "But, I've got one condition. It's cut in stone and non-negotiable."

"What condition?" Frank asked.

"Keep your people out of this. I don't want them following me or talking to people I've talked to. I don't want them talking to people I might want to talk to. I don't want them involved at all. If I need something from you, I'll call."

Vito started to speak and Rollie spoke first. "Cut in stone Vito." The crime boss nodded, he didn't like it but he nodded..

"I need a recent picture of Angela and as much information about her life since she started at Washington University as possible"

Frank opened a briefcase sitting next to him, extracted a folder, and pushed it across the table. Rollie opened the folder and saw four or five pictures of a pretty girl with long black hair. The pictures were both facial shots and a couple of full body shots. She must take after her mother, Rollie thought. Angela has the coloring of her father but at 5'10 she's three inches taller than Frank. There were also several typed pages with a description of Angela, her class schedule and a list of her usual friends.

"Pretty sure I was going to take the job weren't you?" Rollie asked with a small hard smile.

"The way to be successful in business or life is to be prepared," Frank replied. "No I wasn't sure you would help. Considering who I am and what you used to do for a living I thought it was a long shot but I didn't want to waste time if you decided to take the job."

"Where did you get the list of friends?"

"Greta was very helpful getting information for me," Frank answered. "Er...Greta sort of works for me. Sort of a companion to Angela you see."

"Sort of works for you?"

"I pay for her schooling and give her a little on the side to keep an eye on Angela." Frank paused and added, "Angela doesn't know about Greta working for me."

Rollie shook his head. "You did say you were prepared didn't you." Frank nodded and looked a little embarrassed.

"Okay, when this is over, when Angela is home, I'll send you my bill. Doesn't matter if you pay the ransom and she comes home or I find her and she comes home. I'll send you a bill for my time and expenses. Agreed?"

"What do you want for your time?" Vito asked.

"I get $400 a day. Three days minimum." Rollie was winging it; he had no idea what private investigators charged. "But I only charge you when I'm actually working on the case."

"That's a lot of money for a day's work," Vito said.

"You're kidding me right?" Rollie asked frowning. "Your niece has been kidnapped, you're ready to pay out a quarter of a million dollars and you're going to quibble over my fee. Remember you asked for my help, I didn't come to you. That's the deal, take it or leave it"

"Okay, okay. Don't get your panties in a bunch. I was just saying."

"Let me explain something to you Mr. Rossi," Rollie said sarcastically. "I'm not doing this for you or Frank or for the money. I'm going to find your daughter because right now she's alone and afraid and needs help. Her world has collapsed around her. That's it plain and simple." Rollie stood finished his beer and said, "I'll be in touch." He left Rigazzi's and didn't look back.

Vito watched as Rollie walked away. "Asshole," he muttered.

"Maybe so, but right now he's our asshole," Frank replied. "We both know his reputation. If anyone can find Angela, Chambers will."

"And when he does we'll be right behind him," Vito swore. "No one disrespects the family like this. NO ONE."

The next morning Rollie went to the County Sheriff's Office to apply for a concealed carry permit for his pistol. As he was filling out the application, Deputy Sheriff Toby Smith walked by and saw Rollie.

"What the heck are you doing Rollie?" Tobey asked. He and Rollie had worked on several cases together. On the first case Toby had been in the lead pursuit car chasing a car thief. Rollie had blocked off the man's escape route and when the thief came out of the car shooting, Rollie returned fire and put the man down.

"Howdy Toby." Rollie stood and shook hands with the Deputy. "I've resigned from the Department and I'm going to do some investigations and maybe some security work so I need a CCW."

"I heard you left. Gonna be a PI like the Magnum or Rockford huh? Get all the pretty girls and interesting cases too I bet," Toby teased.

Rollie laughed with his friend. "Probably some insurance investigations and if I'm lucky setting up security for a VIP visiting St. Louis."

"You finish the application?" Toby motioned for Rollie to follow him. "No need for a bunch of that red tape considering. Let's take it in to the boss and see what we can do."

"What are you gonna be carrying Rollie?"

"A Glock 21C."

"A .45, wow a real stopper huh," Toby said.

"You remember what happened with that car thief." Toby nodded

"I hit him eight times before he went down. He was so high on Crystal Meth I don't think he ever felt the first four or five rounds. That's when I changed to the Glock. If I have to shoot someone they'll go down with the first one or two hits."

The Sheriff signed the application for Rollie. "You've been carrying a gun for years so you don't need a training course. We can get your fingerprints from the Department." He handed Rollie the approved certificate and said, "Just take that to the DMV; they'll put an endorsement on your driver's license and you're all set."

"Thanks Sheriff," turning to the deputy he said, "Toby, I appreciate your help." As he left the Sheriff's department he thought, now I'm legal to carry a gun. He chuckled and said to himself, "Course I would have carried the Glock anyway."

Rollie got back to his condo and picked up the file Frank Rossi had given him. As he read through it again, he also thought about what Frank had told him. Frank made the call to tell them he had the money but he hasn't heard from the kidnappers, Rollie said to himself. He was so involved in thinking about the case that when his cell phone rang, it startled him.

"Chambers," he answered.

"Rollie, I got a call from the kidnappers," Frank said. "They want me to bring the money to them next Monday."

"Did they tell you where?"

"No, they said they'd call me back Monday morning at 8 and tell me where to meet them."

"Call them back. They probably won't answer but leave a message. Tell them you don't feel comfortable walking around with all that money. Tell them you've hired someone to do the meeting for you. Got that?"

"Yeah, call them back and tell them I've hired a guy to bring the money to them," Frank repeated. "Who?"

"Me, I want to be there. Today's Thursday. I've got four days to find your daughter," Rollie said.

"What if you don't find her?"

"Then I'll be the one taking the money to them," Rollie answered. "Call Greta and tell her I'm coming to talk to her."

"She might have classes today; I'm not sure of her schedule."

"Tell her to skip class but be at the apartment when I get there. She works for you, tell her to be there." Rollie suggested. "I'm leaving now. Should be there in less than an hour." Rollie hung up without saying good bye.

Walking to his car he punched a number into his cell phone. "Tully," he said when the call was answered. "Can you get away for a couple of hours?"

"Yes sir, Detective First Class Chambers. Oh wait make that Citizen Chambers, I forgot you're one of them now," Tully replied. "What's up?" He asked in a more serious tone.

"I'm working on a kidnapping case and want another set of eyes and ears," Rollie explained. "I'm on my way to you so meet me out in front please."

"Okay see you in twenty."

"You still got that pair of pants with the leg cut out at the knee that you wore undercover with me? Rollie asked. "If you do wear them. See you soon."

Marine Master Gunnery Sergeant, retired, Jacob Tully was a Sergeant in the St. Louis Police Department. He was in charge of the Department's shooting range. Tully also taught tactile skills to the officers of the Department. He'd lost his right leg below the knee while on deployment with a National Guard unit in Iraq. His lower leg had been replaced with a state of the art prosthetic leg made of titanium and carbon fiber. Tully always said it was as good as his real leg and didn't itch as much.

Sergeant Tully was waiting on the curb when Rollie pulled up. He quickly jumped into the cab of the truck and Rollie peeled rubber getting away.

"Thanks Sarge," Rollie said.

"No problem. But why the cut off pants leg?"

"We're going to talk to the roomie of the kidnapped girl," Rollie replied. "I want her nervous when I talk to her and people are usually nervous around people with handicaps; like a prosthetic leg. Especially a big ugly former Jarhead who looks ominous. You know frowning, flexing his muscles, looking mean. Think you can handle that Tully?"

"You are a devious young man Rollie Chambers," Tully said with a big grin. "I can do the ominous part but I'm too pretty to look mean."

Many of the older homes around Washington University were stately and large. It had been and to some extent still was an upper crust neighborhood. The houses were usually two story brick buildings with large lots. Many had been renovated into apartments for students of the University.

"Nice digs," Tully said as they stopped in front of a building set back off the street. Angela and Greta's apartment was one side of an older home that had been made into a duplex. It looked like a very nice house, not your normal student's abode.