Chapter 5
Curse of the Coins
Laura’s Lounge was in the heart of North Philly. It lacked the style and
class of Steele’s Inner Sanctum but the colorful cast of regulars who flowed
through the doors on a nightly bases sure made up for it. Steele referred to it
as the underground ghetto version of Wal-Mart. Watches, baby clothes,
electronics, anything from designer clothes to designer drugs could be brought
or sold at the club.
Owner Laura and Alexander Steele were good friends. In all the years she
had been in business Laura had one rule. Absolutely no merchandise could be
brought inside the club. The deals were made inside but the transactions had to
take place elsewhere.
By the time Steele reached Laura’s Lounge night had fallen and the rain
had stopped. Two scroungy, scrawny looking dudes blocked Steele’s path just as
he reached the front door steps.
“Hey brother we need a couple of dollars to get this bottle before the
liquor store closes.”
Steele was annoyed on several levels. Any attempt to threaten or strong
arm him was usually met with swift retaliation as the two would be shakedown
artist were about to find out.
Steele took a second to give the guys a chance to reconsider but when
they refused to budge he told them. “The welfare office is down the street.”
A small crowd had began to gather on the sidewalk as the shorter of the
two men got in Steele’s face, “oh, you gotta be a wise ass, all you had to say
was NO.”
When Steele attempted to step around the men he felt a large hand
pulling on his shoulder. Instinctively Steele spun around and punched the guy
in the face while simultaneously kicking the second one in the crotch.
Not willing to give up easily the first guy grunted as he charged at
Steele who quickly side stepped the angry man before smashing his head against
the hood of the brown Kia parked in front of the club. As the dazed thug slid
down the side of the car Steele could hear the footsteps of the second guy
getting closer. He whirled around punched the attacker twice in the gut then
watched him fall to the ground next to his friend.
Steele looked at his knuckles then knelt over the two men and softly
said, “No.”
Slick was known to have more enemies than friends. Considering the
people he had burned, deceived or flat out lied to Steele was always careful to
describe him as nothing more than an associate. In his line of work Slick was a
source for information, a valuable but costly asset.
The club was crowded as usual but Slick was easy to find. He always sat
at the far end of the bar. It was the best vantage point for keeping an eye on
the front door in case he needed to make a hasty exit out the back.
Slick remembered the night Julia’s ex came into the bar. Slick was a
fast talker. His eyes darted around the room every so often but always returned
to the front entrance.
“Listen Steele, there’s only a handful of Hispanic dudes that come in
here and most of them are looking for something, you know what I’m saying? This
guys a regular, comes in here three, four times a week. Nice guy,” Slick
touches his temple with his index finger, “but not very bright if you get my
drift.”
Slick paused, took a sip of whiskey, and stared off into the distance.
If Steele wanted to know the rest of the story it was time to show some
appreciation. Steele laid two twenties and a ten on the bar and Slick instantly
picked up the money and the story without missing a beat.
“He came in here the other night and got wasted, started running off at
the mouth about being rich. Half hour later he left with some white dude.”
Slick thought for a moment and shook his head. “I don’t know him. I heard
somebody say he comes down this way from Darby a couple times a month to check
in on his sickly grandma or something. About an hour later he came back in by
himself and started up again. Then he created the cardinal sin. He pulled out a
hand full of gold coins and laid them on the table over there. Well, that got a
lotta folk’s attention including mine. He might as well have been wearing a
sign I want to get mugged.
Some old sickly looking guy came over to his table. They talked for a
while and the drunk guy with the gold left. As soon as he left the old guy followed
him out.”
Steele felt like he was feeding the parking meter in center city. But
this meter was getting more expensive by the minute. He laid another bill on
the bar and slid it over. Slick smiled when he saw the crisp fifty dollar bill.
“See here’s the deal Steele; this guy was always tight with a buck. I
mean he was tighter than a three hundred pound hooker trying to squeeze into a
size small pair of canary yellow spandex pants. You get my drift Steele? So,
like I said, he got my curiosity up so I followed them.
Turns out he lives in the apartment right across the street on Germantown Avenue .
Second floor.” Slick pointed in the direction of the building, “apartment12 if
I’m not mistaken.” Steele asked a few more questions before heading to the
apartment building.
The dimly lit hallways in the rundown apartment building were painted
blood red. It was clear from the stains, cracks, and writing along the walls
that the apartment building was way overdue for a fresh coat of paint. Even
though the rain had cooled things off outside the hallway was hot and muggy.
Odors of cheap wine and urine permeated throughout the dilapidated three
story walkup.
Steele ignored the police sirens wailing in the distance. He walked by
an old black pay phone with a dozen or so phone numbers scribbled on the wall
before climbing the rickety stairs.
An open door especially in this neighborhood was always a bad sign.
As if that wasn’t enough the foul smell coming from the hallway was
suddenly replaced by the stench of a rotting corpse. As the sound of the sirens
grew louder Steele considered the possibility that they may be headed his way.
He had to move fast. The floor boards creaked as he crept into the small
apartment. An old porcelain lamp with painted pink roses topped with a battered
cream colored lamp shade gave Steele enough light to navigate around the room.
A small picture frame had been tossed into the small black waste basket next to
an old raggedy lounge chair. The toxic smell of death grew stronger as he moved
towards the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye Steele caught a glimpse of
flashing red lights from the window facing Germantown Avenue .
Moments later Steele’s suspicions were confirmed. After making a quick
sweep of the ransacked efficiency apartment he holstered his Glock and stood
over the lifeless body sprawled out on the kitchen floor. The victim had
apparently been shot from behind.
“Stop where you are and put both your hands up now!”
After a brief explanation and flashing his PI license Steele was given
the standard lecture about interfering in police business. Three uniformed
officers examined the crime scene while the fourth escorted him out of the
building. As he was lead out of the kitchen Steele noticed scorch marks in the
sink and fragments of burnt paper. He needed to see Julia but it had been a
long day so the news would have to wait till morning.
It was half pass eleven when Steele pulled up in front of his house. He
could hear the faint sounds of Boyz II Men singing “This Is My Heart’ coming
from inside as he pushed his door key into the lock. Steele turned to look up
the street to see where Shakia had parked her car. He chuckled as he thought
back to his earlier conversation with Stan, realizing that not even his best
friend would ever comprehend the deep bond and love that connected Shakia and
Steele together.
Steele immediately noticed the aroma of steak and potatoes wafting throughout
the house.
The moment he entered the living room Shakia walked over and greeted her
man with a long passionate kiss.
“Thank you for the flowers babe, they’re beautiful. How did you know I
would be here?”
Steele shrugged his shoulders and smiled, “lucky guess.”
Shakia looked over her shoulder and pointed towards the kitchen. “You
hungry baby? I cooked you a prime rib with a baked potato.”
Steele kissed Shakia again and gave her a sheepish grin. “Yeah, I’m
hungry but the food will be cold by the time we’re done.”
Shakia laughed, “Ooh Alex I love it when you talk dirty.”
Steele took her by the hand and headed towards the bedroom. “You know
your bath water's getting cold.”
Shakia stopped to look up at Steele, “how did you know I ran bathwater?”
Steele held his index finger to his nose, “lavender oil; you bath with
it all the time.”
Steele gently tugged on Shakia’s hand this time guiding her toward the
bathroom. “Come on baby, tonight we’re going to multitask.”
Street parking in South Philly was always a nightmare. The A.M. rush
hour was about to start and that would only make it worse. The closest parking
spot to Julia’s restaurant was a block away. As he approached the restaurant
Steele noticed Julia talking with two men. She was standing near the curb with
her back up against a green Toyota .
The look of stark fear on her face was enough for Steele to know the two men
weren’t there to discuss the menu.
Steele began to jog but broke into a full sprint when the tall slender
man whipped out a switchblade. Using the element of surprise Steele grabbed the
knife welding man from behind.
He wrapped his arm around the thug’s neck and squeezed as hard as he
could.
Before the man could react Steele grabbed his forearm to keep the knife
at bay. Julia screamed as the two men tussled. Bystanders stopped to watch as
the second assailant ran toward Steele. The guy in the choke hold was losing
consciousness, his head was tiled back and he was beginning to turn blue.
Steele waited until the last second to thrust his arm forward causing
the thug with the knife to plunge his blade deep into the gut of his friend.
Out of the corner of his eye Steele saw three angry looking men running toward
him. With the knife buried in the guys stomach Steele released the first man
and flung him into the wounded man causing them both to fall to the sidewalk.
Things were moving quickly. As he glanced down at the two men Steele could hear
the pounding of footsteps as the three men came closer. Instinctively he
reached under his shirt and drew his gun.
If the sight of a fully loaded Glock didn’t slow them down Steele would
not have a problem giving them a demonstration. To his surprise Julia rushed
over and attempted to lower Steele’s arm.
“No Mr. Steele, she yelled, these are my friends. They came to help me.”
Steele gave the men the once over and lowered his weapon, “well it’s
about damn time. Where the hell were you guys five minutes ago?”
Once the police arrested the thugs Julia and Steele went inside the
restaurant. There weren’t many breakfast patrons in fact the restaurant was
nearly empty. Julia looked nervous as the two sat in the first booth. “Thank
you for saving me Mr. Steele. Would you like something to eat?”
Steele shook his head, “no, but I would like some answers. What was that
all about?
Why are these guys after you?”
Julia looked out the window at the people as they passed by. For a
moment it was as if she didn’t hear the questions. Steele leaned forward toward
her and whispered; “look, if you’re not up front with me I can’t help you.”
After a few more seconds of silence he rose from the table and headed to the
door.
By the time Steele grabbed the metal door handle Julia yelled out to
him, “Okay! I’ll tell you.” Steele stopped and returned to his seat and looked
her in the eyes. Julia was fidgeting in her seat. Even though no new customers
had come in she still looked around the room making sure that the few customers
and the kitchen, and waiters could not hear. In a soft voice she whispered, “I
owe them money… a lot of money.”
Tears began to well up in her eyes as she told Steele the rest of the
story. “This,” she looked around the room, “was my mother’s restaurant. She
built it from nothing. When I was a little girl she would always say I have
provided for your future. She would always talk about the golden leaves but I
never understood what she meant. Golden leaves,” she pondered the words before
going on.
“My mom wanted me to go to college, she didn’t want me to struggle the
way she did but in the end this restaurant is all I have that’s left of her.
The men and woman who worked at the Navy Yard use to come here and have
breakfast early every morning before going off to work. There wasn’t an empty
seat in the place. When the government closed down the Navy ship yard, business
dropped by 30% then we got hit with the recession. The banks turned my loan
application down and I didn’t know what else to do.”
Steele listened to the rest of the story. There was only one thing she
purposely avoided telling him. “Julia, who did you borrow the money from?”
Julia buried her face inside her hands and shook her head side to side.
“Mr. Steele, I’m so ashamed.” She took a minute to regain her composure
then gave him the bad news. “I…….I borrowed it from the mob.”
On his way back to the club Steele decided to checkout Julia’s Uncle
Cecil. It appears that her curse theory may have some truth to it. The bullet
Cecil took that night in the spine twenty years ago was inoperable and now he
was dying from lead poisoning. Steele caught up with him at the University of
Pennsylvania Hospital on Spruce
Street . The years had taken their toll on Cecil.
He was not at all like the man his niece had described to Steele. He was frail
and his voice was so weak Steele had to move close to the bed to hear him.
He told Steele how his brother used to drive to Montreal every month to invest the money from
the restaurant and the barber shop. He explained how one of the other barbers
traveled with him on one of the trips.
“It was the dead of winter. The icy, snow covered roads on Route 87
north were treacherous.
The car flipped over and the barber was killed. He was Greg senior,
Julia’s ex-husband’s father.” Cecil was beginning to fade. Steele could almost
see the life draining from his face.
Cecil paused and starred off into space. “Mr. Steele, do you think you
will go to heaven when you die?”
Steele thought for a moment and answered, “Yes, I sure hope so.”
Cecil’s eyes rolled around in his head. It was hard for him to focus. He
looked over at Steele and whispered, “Don’t expect to see me when you get
there.” He reached for Steel’s hand.
“Tell Julia I’m sorry.” Cecil was holding something tightly in his hand.
Steele was curious but patient. Once he handed Steele what he was holding Cecil
took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and died.
Steele opened his hand and was shocked at what he saw. He stared down at
the four shinny gold Canadian Maple Leaf coins. He remembered the words of
Julia’s mother. The golden leaves, her mother was talking about the image on
the gold coins.
Julia’s ex-husband was right. The stories were true, Greg’s curiosity
and obsession may have cost him his life. It was now left up to Steele to tell
his client about the murder and the gold coins. He would also have to tell
Julia about her uncle’s involvement.
Steele’s inner alarm had gone off. Something was off kilter. After
breaking the bad news to Julia, he went home. Steele tossed and turned for most
of the night. It was like trying to scratch that itch in the center of your
back, it was there, it was annoying, but you just couldn’t make it go away. It
was twenty years later and the body count had begun creeping up again.
Next
Chapter 6
End of the Rainbow
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