It wasn't worth dying for. Killing for? Yes.
Paper Trail
Written by Don Blinebry | Noir and Nonsense Originals
Synopsis
When his street snitch gets snuffed, Max Moxie takes it personally. Up against a ruthless crime boss, sympathy has no place in this noir tale of retribution. As loyalties shift and appearances begin to crumble, Max discovers he's been asking the wrong questions—and ignoring the ones that matter most.
A complete detective story you can read in one sitting.
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Louie had said seven o’clock. It was well after eight. I thumbed the hammer of the Smith & Wesson and eased it onto an empty chamber. That was something I did subconsciously when I was bored or edgy or just mulling things over.
From my vantage point in the alley, I watched a car turn at the corner, its headlights reflecting off the barrel. Just a tool of the trade, I thought, slipping the .38 into my pocket.
An ancient Toyota pulled to the curb under a malfunctioning street lamp and chugged to a stop. The streetlight blinked a welcome, flickered and went dark again. A ferret-faced man with weasel-gray eyes and a rumpled suit slid from the driver’s seat and stepped into the shadows.
“You’re late, Louie. This better be worth my time.”
“Jeez, Max, I had to make sure I wasn’t followed.” Louie cast a furtive glance over his shoulder at the empty street and pushed further into the shadows. “It wouldn’t do me any good if people knew I was talkin’ to you. I ain’t exactly makin’ anybody’s top ten these days. You’re takin’ a helluva chance with this stuff.”
“I can handle the fat man.”
“Yeah, maybe the great Max Moxie can, but if Ludlow gets his hands on me… .”
“He’ll crucify you, Louie.” I finished the sentence and watched him shudder. “He’ll stick you on a cross and drive the nails himself and don’t think for a minute that he won’t. What made you think you could get away with blackmailing Ludlow anyway?”
“Aw, Christ, it wasn’t blackmail. It was a one-shot deal. I had something he wanted. I just needed one big score and me and Angelina could move away and start over.”
“You had something he wanted because you stole it from him.”
“That’s what I do. You know me, Max. I steal things for a living. Ludlow should be happy for the chance to get it back. It’s not like I put it out there for the highest bidder.”
“You’re not looking at it from the fat man’s perspective, Louie. If he lets you get away with this, then every hotshot and hustler in three counties is going to try to follow your lead. On the other hand, if he snuffs you, he sends the message that not playing nice has serious health consequences.”
“Yeah, well, I ain’t hangin’ around waitin’ for my health to deteriorate. Angelina has a cousin in Des Moines. We’re going to stay with her for a couple of weeks.”
“Getting out of town isn’t a bad idea.” I was absent-mindedly thumbing the hammer of the .38 again. “I wouldn’t count on coming back though, leastwise, not any time soon.”
“Hey, that’s a nice piece,” Louie reached for the weapon. “Can I try … .”
My reaction was instinctive. Pulling away from Louie’s grasp was enough to coax the hair-trigger into releasing the hammer on a loaded chamber. The muzzle flash lit the alleyway like a road flare and the stray bullet ricocheted through the concrete canyons.
“Whoa, Max, that’s some muzzle flash.”
“How many times do I have to tell you, Louie? Never touch the hardware. Never. Ever.”
“Um, sure Max, whatever you say. Y’know, when this is all over, maybe you should think about taking some time off. Get a little rest. See a shrink. That kind of stuff.”
“It’s never over, Louie and that’s the problem. You said you had information … .”
“Oh, yeah.” Louie refocused on the purpose of the meeting and produced a manila envelope from an inside pocket of his jacket. “These are the papers I took from Ludlow’s office. They ain’t worth dying for, but it’s enough to put him away for about a thousand years.”
Louie lit a smoke while I checked the contents of the envelope. Names, dates, amounts. There was plenty, alright—enough to kill for.
“It’s all there. I ain’t holdin’ back nothin’. You said if I gave you the stuff, you could give me some money so me an’ Angelina could get to … .”
A car had rounded the corner and a burst of automatic gunfire interrupted Louie in mid-sentence. A mixture of blood and air foamed at the corner of his mouth and his sightless eyes no longer blinked. I stepped out of the shadows as Louie fell forward.
Louie bounced once off the concrete and came to rest. I was on the sidewalk, emptying the .38 in the direction of the fleeing sedan. The muzzle flashes nearly blinded me in the darkened street. The car was gone.
I looked at Louie’s lifeless form lying face down in a pool of blood, steam rising into the cool evening air from the gaping wounds.
“Tough luck, kid.” I reloaded. “Somebody will find you before morning. In the meantime, you’ve given me enough information to bring Ludlow down and this time, I’ll bring him down hard. You done good, Louie. I’ll make sure I tell Angelina you done good.”
——
I drove across town keeping an eye on the rearview mirror. I wanted Angelina to hear the news about Louie from me, but first, I had a score to settle and the sooner it was done, the better. I parked on a side street off East Pine and walked back to the sporting goods store.
The sign on the shop entrance announced they weren’t open for business, but I pounded on the door until Emile’s muffled voice could be heard pleading for patience. “Alright. Alright. Don’t break my door. Who is it?”
“Max.”
“Oh, Max. Max, wait a moment,” The click of the latch and the rattle of a chain preceded the door swinging in on its hinges. “Usually, you call. What can … .”
One hard push interrupted Emile’s question and sent him sprawling across the room. I stepped inside and slammed the door. “What are you trying to do, Emile, get me killed?”
“What the hell are you talking about, Max?”
“Muzzle flash,” I said, throwing a handful of cartridges at the still-cowering gunsmith. “I’ve got enough muzzle flash to weld two Buicks together. Maybe you ought to provide sunglasses with this load.”
“Hell.”
“Hell ain’t the half of it. These things gave away my position tonight and got one of my informants killed.”
“Max, I’m sorry. I … I … .”
“You’ve been loading my ammo for years. You know it needs a fast-burning powder. What happened? You ran out of the fast burn and gave me the regular target load instead?”
“Well, Max, you go through so much ammunition. Sometimes it’s hard to keep up with you. Really, I didn’t think you’d notice.”
“I noticed. Careful I don’t use you for a target.”
“Don’t say that, Max. You know you don’t mean that. I’ll make up new ammunition for you. Go in the kitchen. My daughter is back with me now. She’ll make you something to eat.”
“Zoe? Back?”
Emile nodded and picked up the scattered shell casings. “I kept telling her ‘call Max,’ but she didn’t want to. Go. Go. I’ll get a new batch for you.”
I walked through the shop and into the living quarters behind it. The girl looked up at the sound of footfalls. “Max?” Her hand at her throat.
“Hello, Zoe.”
“I wasn’t expecting you, Max. You always call.”
“Just happened to be in the neighborhood. I didn’t know you were back.”
“I got back yesterday.”
“Visiting?”
“No, for good. Do you realize you didn’t call me once the whole time I was gone?”
“I meant to, Zoe. I’ve been busy. You know how it is.”
“I know when we started going out, you’d call me every night. Sometimes the phone would be ringing before I even walked in the door.”
“That seems like a long time ago.”
“I guess it was. I remember before we were dating, Papa would say ‘Max called. Put on something nice and maybe he’ll notice you.’ I would always run and put on something nice. I guess this will have to do tonight.” She tugged at the over-sized sweatshirt and pajama bottoms I’d found her in.
“You look fine.” Zoe was the kind of girl who could walk into a room full of blind men and turn heads. Her shoulder length black hair framing the almost-too-small face and the perfectly chiseled features was an image not easily forgotten. She didn’t favor her father, so either her mother had been beautiful or the gods of chance drew three and came up aces. “And I would have noticed anyway.”
Zoe smiled, but the silent pause lengthened until the strain in our relationship became an unwelcome interloper. Zoe spoke first.
“A drink, Max. Would you like me to make you a drink?”
“You could dirty up a martini. I haven’t had dinner yet.”
“A martini sounds delicious. I think I’ll join you.”
“Two olives, if you don’t mind. I’m trying to get more green vegetables in my diet.”
“I remember how you like things.” She turned toward the kitchen. “It hasn’t been that long.”
“It’s been a year.” I was mumbling to an empty room. Now she was back. Now she would be a distraction, although she was never very far from my thoughts. I saw her every time I closed my eyes and her absence had done nothing to change that.
I pulled Louie’s envelope from my pocket and checked the contents again. The information was damning. Payroll alone would end a couple of dozen careers. I’d have to thank Ludlow for this paper trail to the Federal Pen. I licked the envelope closed and scrawled the D.A.’s address across the front. No return.
Zoe was back with a tray, two glasses and a shaker. She split the contents, added ice and olives and spooned some brine into both. “One dirty martini on the rocks.”
I raised my glass. “Welcome back.”
“Sanatos.”
We drank and once again, the silence became uncomfortable. “Aren’t your west coast friends going to be upset with you for deserting them?”
“Hardly. They’re too busy looking in the mirror to miss me.” A shadow of sadness crossed Zoe’s face. “It will take them a week to realize I’m gone and another week to forget I was ever there.”
“Nice friends. So, what was the matter with L.A.?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Lots of things. Did you know the ocean is on the wrong side out there?”
“I’ve heard.”
“I could never get properly oriented. I guess it just wasn’t New England. What’s the envelope for, Max?”
“For you. If you don’t hear from me in twenty-four hours, put a stamp on it and then maybe give the west coast another … .”
“I’ve got a hundred rounds for you, Max.” Emile entered the room and placed a small duffle bag on the coffee table. “I’ll have more for you on Friday.”
“Papa, your nose.” Zoe noticed the tape that covered his swollen proboscis.
“It is nothing, Liebchen. I walked into a door. You know how clumsy I am sometimes.
“Oh, Papa, let me get you something.”
“No, no, I’m fine. I’ll just get some sleep.” Emile headed up the stairs. “Goodnight, Liebling. Goodnight, Max.”
“Goodnight, Papa.”
“Perhaps I should be running along as well.”
“Not you too. Is my company that bad?”
“Hardly.” I saw her look of disapproval, but there was too much to be done before morning. It was time to go. “Thanks for dinner, Zoe. You always were a good little cook.”
“You could stay, Max.”
“Not tonight, Sugar, I’m on a case.”
“You’re always on a case.”
“There’s lots of bad guys.” I ignored her admonishing tone. “I’m just trying to get the worst of the cockroaches off the street.”
“I know, but that doesn’t leave time for us.”
“There used to be an ‘us.’ I didn’t know there still was.” I hefted the duffle bag. “Thank your father for the bug spray. Tell him I’ll be back for more.”
“When am I going to see you again, Max?” Zoe followed me through the shop.
“Soon, Sugar, soon. G’night, Zoe.”
“Be careful out there, Max.”
——
Louie’s apartment was across town in a neighborhood called South End. I wanted Angelina to hear about Louie from me, not the eleven o’clock news. I should have been thinking about what I wanted to say, but instead, I found myself wondering about the oddity of their relationship.
They’d only started dating recently. From the couple of times I’d met her, the girl was out of his league. I never said so though. Louie was all in, and besides, what the hell did I know? I’d screwed up every relationship I’d ever been in. Zoe was only the latest example.
Angelina was different from the people Louie normally hung out with. Better educated. More sophisticated. She seemed to genuinely care about him. Made sure he ate. Wore better clothes. It was those unapplauded things that told the truth.
I parked in front of the red brick three-story affair that Louie called home. There was no elevator and no security. The central staircase was accessed from the front and staircases at either end of the building emptied into the parking lot in back.
The first two levels were a cacophony of loud music, crying babies and the echo of bad choices. The third floor was a little quieter. The dimly lit corridor that led to Louie’s apartment was an obstacle course of children’s toys and stacks of boxes from someone moving in or out.
Before I rang the bell, I listened. The sound of muffled voices told me Angelina had company. I backed down the hallway and ducked behind some boxes just as the door opened.
“If Louie’s dead, I’m not going to stay here and do nothing.” The woman's voice conveyed no emotion.
“Going off and doing something crazy won’t help, Angelina. I’m only suggesting you give it a couple of days and see what plays out.” The man’s voice was flat, matter-of-fact.
“Make sure the door is locked.”
“It’s locked. It’s locked. Two days. Are you listening … ?” The voices faded as they headed down the stairwell to the parking area.
I hustled back to the entrance and around the building. They were already on the other side of the lot. I stayed in the shadow of the shrubbery. Angelina’s companion seemed to be doing most of the talking and his body language told me he was losing the argument. She got in her car and drove out to the street.
The man headed back in my direction. When he got closer, I recognized him as Duke Calvano, a local shyster and one of Frank Ludlow’s inner circle. I stepped out of the shadows.
“Nice night for a walk, Duke. Mind if I join you?”
He made a move for his left shoulder, then thought better of it. The .38 was already in my hand. “You take chances, Maxwell.”
“So, you know who I am.”
“Your picture is in the papers often enough with all your antics. I didn’t know you’d taken up mugging as a hobby.”
“I don’t need your smart talk, Duke. You told Angelina about Louie, but it was your outfit that had him killed.”
“I don’t have an outfit, I have clients. What I say to them is confidential. I told Angelina about Louie because I didn’t want her to hear about it from the rumor mill.”
Funny, you never struck me as the tea-and-sympathy type. How would you even know Louie was dead? Maybe you can tell me who killed him.”
“Rico was the shooter. He’s been bragging. News travels fast.”
Rico was Enrico Marotta, one of Ludlow’s hired guns. “Rico wasn’t alone. Somebody was driving.”
Duke shrugged. “Maybe Popeye Perfetto. Rico likes working with him. If he wasn’t the driver, he might know who was. Try Frogtown. That’s where Popeye usually hangs out.”
Frogtown was local vernacular for the Frog Hollow section north of Barry Square, a working-class neighborhood with a worse reputation than it deserved. “You’re just a wealth of information, Duke. Is any of this on the level?”
Duke shrugged again. “It’s what I know. One word of advice, Moxie. I don’t care what you do with Rico. I don’t care what you do with Popeye. Just stay away from the rest of it. You don’t know what you’re getting into. So, unless you’re going to shoot me, I have work to do.” The lawyer turned on his heel and walked toward the street. He got into a maroon Volvo and headed uptown.
I let him go. I knew where to find him if I needed to. I walked back to my car and pointed it in the direction of Frogtown.
——
I cruised around the Frog Hollow district, getting the lay of the land and looking for any of Ludlow’s hirelings. I spotted a few of them smoking and carousing outside a pool hall off Grand Street. It was a place to start.
There was an old-fashioned delicatessen a block and a half away. I drove there and parked. A sign in the window advertised fresh-cut meat. It would be a good base. They just needed to be open. The time I’d spent learning Louie’s skill set came in handy. The lock didn’t last the first round.
I pulled my hat down over my eyes, turned my collar up against the night air and walked back to the pool room. I mingled with people on the street. Refugees from the billiard parlor and patrons from the bar next door would periodically step out for a smoke before returning to their game or their drink. It was late and the crowds were thinning.
Popeye had joined his friends. He parked his three-hundred-pound frame on one of the benches and lit a cigarette while they passed around a bottle in a paper bag. One by one, the Ludlow crew drifted back inside, leaving Popeye to finish his smoke. When he threw the butt into the gutter and stood up, I made my move.
“Nice night for a walk, Popeye.” I thrust the barrel of my gun into his fat ribs. “You don’t want this cannon to blow a hole in you, so let’s turn around and walk south. Any funny stuff and I’ll open you up like a can of worms.”
“What the … hey, if this is a stick up, I ain’t got much, but you can have it.”
“Really? I thought you might be flush from that driving job tonight. Walk to the corner and make a right.”
“What driving job? I ain’t been nowhere. I been at the pool room all day. Ask anybody.”
“Stop here. Inside.”
“What? The deli? The joint’s closed.”
“The door’s open. Move. Head toward the back where the light is. You better hope I don’t trip. This Howitzer has a hair-trigger. I’d hate to see you get blown up by accident. That’s far enough. Up against the wall. You know the position.” I ran a hand over his pockets and came up with a cell phone and a small automatic.
“I got a license for that.”
“Sure you do. Alright, turn around.”
“Oh, it’s you, Maxwell. What the hell do you think you’re doin’?”
“Taking out the trash, for starters. Take off that jacket and put it on the floor.”
Popeye shed the jacket and held on to it. “This is an expensive suit. I can’t … .”
I slapped it out of his hand and let it fall. I stepped to the side, lifted the latch for the walk-in freezer and pulled the door open. I motioned with the gun. “Inside, Popeye.”
“You’re nuts. I ain’t goin’ in there.”
“Sure you are. With or without bullet holes, your choice. But you’re going.”
Popeye backed into the freezer. “You’re gonna pay for this, Moxie.” He eyed me warily, looking for an opening that would never come.
“I’m terrified. Strip down to your skivvies. Make a pile on top of the jacket.”
“Enough!” Popeye took a step toward me. My gun roared. A slug tore into a side of beef suspended from the ceiling. His face lost what color it still had and he undressed quickly.
“Consider this a preview of what hell is going to feel like when it freezes over. Tell me about the ride tonight.”
“I tol’ you already. No ride. I been in the pool hall all day.”
“Uh huh.” He stepped back as I moved forward. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours after I corroborate your story. Of course, if I find out you lied to me, it might be a couple of days before I’m back.” I swung the heavy door closed.
“Wait, Moxie. Wait.” Popeye’s muffled voice and frantic pounding bordered on hysteria.
I pulled the door open again. “Was there something else?”
“You can’t do this, Max. It ain’t humane. There’s no light when you close the door.” Popeye was sweating despite the cold.
“Of course there’s no light. It’s a refrigerator. What were you expecting? Cartoons?” I swung the door closed again.
“No, wait.” He threw his weight against the door just before it latched.
I let the door open slightly.
“Don’t leave me in here.” Popeye was sweating profusely now and his breath came in labored gasps. His eyes showed a fear that hadn’t been there before. Popeye was afraid of the dark. “I didn’t know Rico was gonna shoot anybody. I swear on my mother’s grave. He said we had to get some papers back that Louie stole from Frank. That’s all I knew.”
“Start at the beginning.”
“Rico said Frank was pissed and wanted us to get some papers that were stolen from him. We went and parked on Louie’s building and the next thing ya know, Louie’s car is pulling out of the lot, so I followed him uptown. I was looking for a place to knock him to the curb.
“All the routes he took were too busy and we didn’t need any company, so I had to bide my time. When he got into the business district, it got a little quieter ‘cause it was after six. I was just about to put a move on him when he pulls to the curb and jumps out and ducks into an alley.
“Rico made me pull over and we waited to see what was gonna happen. Then there’s this gunshot and Rico yells that somebody shot Louie and get down there quick. I go down there an’ Rico says, ‘I see him’ and sticks his cannon out the window and unloads a whole clip. Next thing I know, somebody’s throwing lead at us, so I hightail it.
“Rico’s screaming, ‘Go back, go back,’ so I drive around the block and we don’t see nobody and we get to the alley and find Louie all shot up and no papers. We put Louie in the trunk and I went back to the pool room and Rico went to talk to Frank. I didn’t kill Louie. You can’t hang that on me.”
“No, but you were an accessory before and after. You still might step off for it. Where’s Rico now?”
“He called me and said Frank had gone up to the country house and wanted me to drive him there. I didn’t want to go in case Frank was still pissed. He’s crazy, y’know. Frank. I seen him throw this one dame off a balcony. Crippled her for life. I don’t want to go like that. Maybe Rico went up alone. Frank don’t like too many of the boys being up there.”
I spent the next half hour listening to Popeye give detailed directions to the property and a layout of the house. I even got him to draw a stick-figure map on the back of some deli paper.
I folded the map and stuck it in my pocket. “You’re sure this is all on the level, Popeye?”
“I swear to God, Maxwell. Can I get dressed now?”
“No.” I slammed the freezer door and latched it. I was glad the screams were muffled.
——
Frank Ludlow’s country house was about a half hour north of the city. I turned off the main highway onto the gravel road indicated on Popeye’s map and followed another car. The houses were few and far between. This was farm country.
Frank’s house was the third one in. The property was well lit. I noticed one man on the gate when I drove by and another on the porch. There were four or five cars in the circular drive.
I stayed on the road until the next turn afforded me the opportunity to pull over unnoticed. The car I’d been following disappeared into the darkness. I made my way back toward the gate.
The man on guard was too exposed for me to approach unseen. As I watched for an opportunity, the man began to jerk and twist. At first, I thought he was having a seizure until I realized he was dancing, which meant he was listening to music on his ear pods. Sometimes, modern technology is an asset.
I had some old-school technology for just such occasions. I came up behind him and hit him with my sap. He went down in a heap. I dragged him into the shrubbery, took his Glock and his cell and tossed them into the undergrowth on the far side of the road.
There was a low stone wall that skirted the tree line along the edge of property. I stayed in the shadow of the trees until I got past line of sight from the porch, then jumped the wall and crossed the lawn to the house. I moved toward the front and took advantage of some shrubbery to get a look.
The porch had a railing that ran the length of the front, interrupted only by the steps that led down to the circular drive. Angelina’s car was in the driveway. So was Duke Calvano’s maroon Volvo. The sides of the porch had no railings, only steps that led down to the lawn. Rico was the man on the porch.
I tried to inch closer, but the sound of an ill-fitting tread gave me away. Rico turned. There was no time for a warning. We both reached for our guns. The shots were almost simultaneous. The difference was that mine found its mark. His dug into the porch about a foot in front of him. I didn’t have to look to know he wouldn’t be getting up again.
I pushed inside, not knowing what to expect. Nobody took a shot at me. I made my way up the staircase cautiously. Halfway up, two shots came in quick succession. They weren’t aimed at me.
They seemed to come from the far side of the house. I took the stairs two at a time and moved down the corridor to where I knew Ludlow’s office was. The scene was surreal.
Frank Ludlow sat at his desk, blood spreading a crimson pattern on his white shirt. One of his eyes was missing.
Angelina stood next to him, tucking a small automatic into her purse. “You’re late to the party, Max, but thanks for making the effort. Not everyone would. Now if you’ll excuse me, there are places I have to be.”
“You just killed a man, Angelina. You can’t just walk away.”
“Sure she can.”
The voice behind me was a surprise. I turned.
Duke Calvano was pointing a Walther at my middle. “Put it on the desk, Maxwell.”
He had the drop on me, so I put my gun down. “Are you taking over now, Duke?”
He grunted something and motioned me away from the piece.
Angelina stepped between us and headed toward the door. She stopped when she got to Calvano and they stared at one another but didn’t say anything. Or maybe they said a lot and I missed it because her back was to me. Then she was gone.
Duke went to Ludlow’s desk, pressed some buttons and then backed to the window to watch Angelina drive out. I assumed the buttons were the gate. Then he dropped the Walther into his pocket and lit a cigarette.
“You got a lot to answer for, Calvano.” I collected my piece.
“Yes, that’s true, but it’s not Calvano. It’s Singleton. Special Agent Singleton. I told you you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into.
“You were working for Ludlow.”
“I was working for the FBI. There are two outfits that control organized crime in New England—one in Boston and one in Providence. Ludlow wanted to create a third operating out of Hartford. That wasn’t in anyone’s best interest. So the Boston family sent someone to put an end to it. One of their daughters.”
“Angelina.”
“And I turned her. Now, she’s made her bones. Now she goes back and takes her place.”
“But you fell for her.”
“It was mutual,” Duke lit another cigarette from the one he already had burning. “And not intended. You’re free to leave, Maxwell. The police will be here momentarily.”
I took a piece of paper from Ludlow’s desk and wrote the address of the deli in Frog Hollow. “There’s a man locked in the freezer who’ll have a lot of information you can use.”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t die of hypothermia. You make sure that envelope you got from Louie finds its way to the District Attorney.”
I walked down the driveway as the police were rolling in. Nobody tried to stop me. When I got back to the car, I sat for a long time and stared into the darkness. I thought about Angelina. I thought about Duke. Then I dialed Zoe’s number.
The case may be closed.
Your investigation isn't.
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