Robert Baumgarten was trying to close a sale when Rocco and I sailed into Baumgarten Jewelry. A half-dozen sparkling diamonds on a soft black velvet cloth almost danced under special fluorescent bulbs. The romantic background music could’ve had subliminal “buy buy buy” messages behind the saxophone. The bride-to-be sighed happily. She was buying it. The groom, not so much.
“Here!” she said. “I want this one!”
Her perfectly manicured finger pointed to the biggest, dazzling diamond on the black velvet cloth. It was a showstopper and it made my eyes pop.
The jeweler’s lips spread ear to ear.
The bride swept her long blond hair from her face. She went blink blink at the groom.
“Okay, Baby?”
He looked scruffy, as if she’d dragged him away from his job at the car wash to pick out a ring.
“I told you, Babe. I got your diamond here. We want this guy to make a new ring with it.”
He waved a diamond ring in her face. Her eyes went cold but she worked her full Botox-infused lips into an adorable pout.
“I want my own diamond.”
His face twitched a little. “It’s your diamond now.”
“That’s your mama’s ring. Or so you say,” she added.
Rocco and I exchanged glances. It seemed likely the guy found a cheap ring at a pawn shop. Or even cheaper in a burglary.
The groom’s fist slammed the display case.
The jeweler winced. “That’s glass.”
“Take it,” the groom said. “My mother yanked this ring off her finger when dad ran off with the nanny.”
“I won’t wear it. That ring is cursed. Diamonds absorb negative energy.” She turned to the jeweler. “Isn’t that right?”
He gave a little nod and shrugged apologetically to the groom. “Good and bad energy, actually.”
“And your mama’s energy ain’t good,” she said.
“What did you say?”
“I said, Your. Mother. Is. A. Witch.”
Holy crap, I thought.
His voice became terrifyingly quiet. “Take. It. Back.”
“Witch! Witch!”
He lunged at her, seizing her shoulders and shaking her like a rag doll. Rocco dragged him off her and over to a table where contracts are signed. It was the only surface that wasn’t glass. He shoved him on a chair and flashed a badge. The groom’s lip curled and his eyes grew sullen.
But I saw fear in the bride’s.
Rocco took a step toward the sulky groom. “Don’t make me arrest you for being stupid. The lady doesn’t want the ring.”
He growled. “Okay. I got it, already.” He knocked his head toward the door. “We’re outta here, Babe.”
Rocco stepped aside.
“Wait. Not so fast,” I said. “Botox here needs to empty her pockets.”
The jeweler glanced down at the velvet black cloth and gasped. “My diamonds!”
“Yeah,” I said. “Bonnie here palmed them when Clyde threw her against the case.”
She hurled hate-darts with her eyes. “Bee-itch!”
She stuffed a hand in a pocket and tossed the rocks back on the counter. She turned suddenly and made a dash for the door. The jeweler scooped them up and kicked something with his shoe. A loud, metallic sound resonated from the door.
“We’re locked in,” Robert Baumgarten said. “The cops are on their way.”
And then he began locking all the glass cages as if cops posed the greatest threat of all.
“Isn’t this cozy?” Rocco smiled and dragged out the handcuffs.
My Cousin Frankie was the first responder. He charged into Baumgarten’s with a hand on his holster, ready to shoot somebody. His eyes take on a disturbing glaze when he handles a gun. It’s one reason why the FBI turned down his application. There were many.
Luckily for Frankie, an eagerness to shoot people wasn’t a problem for the Chicago PD. They gave him a badge and a really big gun.
Leo and the rookie Tommy arrived next. Everyone loves Leo. He’s older than dirt and his joints have grown stiff. They make a good team. Tommy is young and good natured and does what Leo tells him. He chases down the bad guys. Leo surrendered the squad car keys after an unfortunate incident involving a cat, a dog, and a woman’s prized magnolia tree. Only the magnolia didn’t survive.
Leo dreams of retiring to Florida winters and marathon reruns of Hill Street Blues. Papa says he’d be out of here tomorrow if his wife wasn’t home all day.
Detective Ettie Opsahl brought up the rear. Her lips almost turned up in a smile when she saw Rocco. But not enough to crack her pinched face.
And then she cast her evil eye in my direction. Ettie has a scathing contempt for private detectives in general and the Pants On Fire Detective Agency in particular. Her pants haven’t seen a spark since Bill Clinton was President.
“Good work, DeLuca,” she said to Rocco. “These clowns have hit a dozen south side businesses. I’ve been chasing them for months.”
“Thank Cat,” Rocco said. “She nailed your guys for you.”
Ettie tried to say something but the words came out in a strangled choke. I thought her face would melt.
“You’re welcome,” I said.
Frankie filled out the police report. Everyone was concerned about Rocco’s choking incident except Tommy. And he wasn’t talking.
“Goddamn scary to see you like that,” Leo said.
“Goddamn gross,” Cousin Frankie said. “If you croaked like that, I’d always remember you like that. Blowing foamy bubbles. It’s sick, man. I gotta purge my brain.”
“What brain?” I said.
“It changes a man when he cheats death like that,” Rocco said. “For a moment there, my life flashed in front of my eyes.”
“You had an NDE,” Leo said. “A near death experience. I’m glad you made it back.”
The groom snorted. “If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t be sittin’ here.”
“You wouldn’t be sitting here if you weren’t a schmuck,” Ettie said.
“Did you see a tunnel?” Tommy said tongue-in-cheek. “Was there a bright light?”
“The place was lit up like Christmas,” Rocco said.
“Was Grandpa DeLuca there?” Frankie asked. “Is he still mad at me?”
“Choke on your own jerky and ask him,” I said.
Leo dropped a heavy hand on Rocco’s shoulder. “When you were over there, did they give you a message to bring back?”
Rocco nodded and the room went still. No one breathed.
“I should have more sex. And I intend to take it up with Maria.”
***
When the others had gone, Robert Baumgarten turned on his OPEN sign again and blew a long-suffering sigh.
“Are you still here?” he said.
“We have a few questions about the day your father died,” Rocco said. “We will be brief.”
“Have you found the man who killed my dad?”
“I’m afraid not,” Rocco said.
“There’s a suspect? New evidence?”
“Regrettably, no.”
“But you’re reopening the case?”
“Not yet.”
Robert looked tired. “Please go away. You’re wasting my time.”
I butted in. “Mr. Baumgarten, we’re taking a fresh look at the incident that killed your father. We’ve been contacted by a man who claims Daniel was in possession of the gold lion medallion when he died.”
The color drained from Robert’s face. “That’s not possible.”
“The witness insists he saw the medallion in your father’s possession. Is it possible one of the thieves offered him a deal? Could Daniel have purchased the item back?”
“Ridiculous.”
“It happens.”
“Tell us what happened the day your father died.”
“It’s a question I ask myself every day. Dad never left the shop unattended. I wish I knew why he went outside or what he doing in the street. Felix got a good look at the van. He was washing windows when it happened. Dad used to give him odd jobs.”
“Felix?” I said.
Rocco elbowed me hard in the ribs. He was telling me to keep my mouth shut. When Robert turned away I slugged him back. That was me telling him I’m not an idiot.
There had been no record of a “Felix” in the police report. No report of a man sweeping the sidewalk and witnessing a van hit his friend. Rocco and I were ten minutes into our first interview and we already smelled a giant cover-up.
What did this man see that was awful enough to make Papa and Bob omit evidence and falsify their accident report? Who would they risk protecting at the highest cost possible to their careers? It was no wonder Bob was frantic and Papa was chewing his nails again. Even now, if the CPD learned an officer hijacked an investigation, the facts could cost his job and his pension. And possibly criminal charges as well.
“The cops interviewed Felix a few times,” Robert said. “Read your goddamn police report. The experience was painful enough without rehashing the same questions all these years later.”
“I apologize, sir,” I said. “Can you tell me Felix’s last name?”
Robert rolled his eyes. “Proust. Felix Proust.”
“An address?”
Robert snorted. “My father could tell you. I can’t. Dad drove Felix home sometimes, especially in the winter when the weather was bad. Used to close the shop and take him to ballgames.”
“Your dad was a good man.”
Robert shrugged. “He missed almost every game of mine. Had to work those days.”
“What did you play?”
Robert shot me a look. It was none of my business but he answered anyway. “Baseball and soccer.”
“Rocco played soccer. He coaches his girls’ teams.”
The jeweler couldn’t have been less interested.
“Did Felix have a car?” Rocco asked.
“Of course he didn’t have a car. If you find him, you’ll know why. Are you finished here? Because I am.”
“Thanks for your time,” Rocco said.
He turned and started for the door. I reached in my pocket and palmed the stolen jewelry the woman with the green scarf dropped on Captain Bob’s floor.
“What’s this?” I said. I knelt down and surfaced with the dazzling piece dangling between my fingers.
“My God,” Robert breathed.
He seized the diamond-and-sapphire teardrop necklace from my hand.
“I thought I lost this. More accurately, I suspected an innocent, and very beautiful woman of ripping me off. Where did you find it?”
I smiled sweetly. “On the floor, of all places. Mr. Baumgarten, it’s beyond me how you manage to stay in business.”