I stood in the bathroom a few more minutes to contemplate where I might get my much needed information. I texted Pin Up Man’s address to Monique on the off chance she was copying the Vitale file and might drop it off.
I could just call the cops and leave the whole mess with them. I thought about Dante Vitale’s body in Pin Up Man’s hall. If I call the cops without the name of the real killer Pin Up Man was as good as in custody and hours away from his own untimely demise once word hit the street of the mafia don’s passing which would be a waste. The man is awfully pretty.
By the time I left the bathroom and walked through my client’s office he was waiting for me at the door.
“Checking to be sure I hadn’t trashed the place?” I asked.
He paused before responding with a “Should I?” I watched as Pin Up Man perused the room looking for evidence I had been snooping, hoping I didn’t know what he was doing. “I came to tell you the coffee is ready.”
I followed Pin Up Man back to the dining room and began perusing the paperwork for the apartment building while he poured. “It’s highly possible Dante Vitale was the VIP who owned the penthouse upstairs.” I announced. I looked at Pin Up Man when he stopped pouring.
“A mafia don has been walking around above my head?”
“The most feared and one of the most brutal mafia dons in the city.” I added.
“And he was?”
“Doing very bad things?” I offered.
Pin Up Man looked at me.
“It’s an apartment. He probably slept, ate, showered, had women over, the same stuff anyone else does in their home. That’s not important. What we need to know is why he came to this apartment and more importantly how he got in.”
Several minutes had passed when Pin Up Man wondered out loud how much it would cost for me to arrange the relocation of Dante’s body. Preferably back to the penthouse from whence it came.
I pretended to not be listening. I draw the line at moving dead people, even if I didn’t, Pin Up Man couldn’t afford me. I had finished reading on the amenities in the units and was studying the floor plans when I found something. “Bingo.”
“What?” Pin Up Man asked.
I made a “come here” gesture and pointed to the layout of Pin Up Man’s unit. “What’s this?” I asked pointing to an unlabeled area.
“An additional storage closet. It is usually. See?” He said pointing to another diagram of the units on his floor.
“You don’t have one?”
“No. It was another benefit to buying this apartment. The one on the other side of my apartment was allotted to the penthouse above. This apartment cost five thousand dollars less because of the missing storage unit and an additional $1500.00 was taken off its yearly maintenance fees. ”
“To not have an extra storage closet?”
He nodded.
“Did the agent you spoke to say what the space was used for?”
Pin Up Man pulled a sheet from the back of the folder. “Items that require secure storage but do not fit into the apartment’s wall safe. The resident also has the option of installing a panic room provided construction stays within the dimensions of the current space.”
“Time to get a look at that closet.” I said.
Pin Up Man shook his head. “Breaking into or defacing another resident’s property will result in immediate eviction of the perpetrator from his or her residence at which time he or she will be delivered to law enforcement by the concierge.” He quotes.
“Says the man who sells less than honestly procured objets d’art.” I looked at Pin Up Man. “You have a dead body in your hallway and this is what you’re scared of getting into trouble over?”
He shook his head. “If I got picked up for B & E my customers would question how long I have been doing it. Some will become concerned they are in possession of stolen property. Some of my customers are unwavering when it comes to keeping their reputations in good standing. If they think I have jeopardized their reputations in any way...I’m out of business.”
I looked at Pin Up Man, I was becoming irritated with his lack of flexibility. I tried another approach. “There is a dead mafia leader laying in your hallway. Getting caught with that body and no plausible cause for his demise other than a bullet from your gun is a lot worse for your reputation and your health than some stolen goods.”
“I disagree and I’m the customer so you’ll be doing things my way.”
I picked up my coffee. Sitting back, I glared at my client over the rim of my cup before taking a sip. “No B & E. Got it.” I responded. A new smell wafted to my side of the room, I returned to the apartment layout I had been studying previously and waited.
“Do you smell something?” He asked.
“I might be a little gassy. Sorry about that.”
“No this is something else.” Pin Up Man stood, walked to the entryway, and sniffed in the general direction of Dante’s body. He left the room.
I waited for the screaming to commence.
It wasn’t a long wait. I put down my coffee cup, picked up the floor plan of the apartment, and reached out to snatch up my client’s overpriced vase on my way through the living room. I found Pin Up Man in the hallway standing next to Dante’s body, waiting.
“It’s coming from him.” He said.
“After a person dies the muscles relax. Sometimes the bladder and the bowels empty because there’s nothing to, you know, hold it in.”
Pin Up Man looked at me with surprise. Apparently this information was new to him.
“Relax.” I said. “He hasn’t started to decay yet. Decay smells way worse than the dirty diaper pail odor that’s in the air right now.”
“It can’t stay here.”
“You can’t move him. The police are going to be looking at you closely enough without making a mistake like that.”
“So you won’t move the body but B & E is okay?” He asked, his voice rising.
“I can handle the smell for you but you’re stressing me.” I responded.
"I'm stressing you?"
"Let's take a minute and close our eyes. Breathe in and out. I want you to picture your favorite place.”
Pin Up Man didn’t see the vase coming at him. The fancy crystal met with my client’s head and he fell to the floor.
I moved him to the living room as best I could and breathed a sigh of relief. “Finally. Now maybe I can get some work done.”
No comments:
Post a Comment