Nick PT Barnum
Case File: Dog Eat Dog
Frank F. Atanacio
Nick PT Barnum
Dog Eats Dog
Dedicated To: Evelia Veronica Rivera
1
She was wearing a light blue night cap, pulled back covering her weave that covered her
forehead. Her night gown had a flowery pattern, and she was wearing no bra. Her face was dark and filled with black botches. She had thin skin, and lots of wrinkles. It appeared that she has had a rough life. Nevertheless she was Deacon Mike Brandon’s love. She was married to him for almost forty years. She was a devoted wife, and a dedicated Christian.
She was tossing and turning in her queen size bed wondering why her husband wasn’t home yet. She glanced at the alarm clock, but really couldn’t tell the time. Her vision wasn’t as good as it use to be. Besides, she wasn’t wearing her glasses.
She wasn’t the worrying type, but the deacon really gave her no reason to be the worrying type. It was late, she knew it, and he never stayed out before. It wasn’t his character, and it certainly wasn’t his nature. He liked being home with her. She knew it.
“ Baby, where in the world are you?” She whispered.
Brenda Brandon sat up and moved closer to the foot of the bed. She kissed her wedding ring and held it against her lips for a few moments. The ring was almost embedded into her dark skin. It looked as if it was cutting off her circulation. She put that ring on 39 years ago, and she never took it off since. She loved her husband, and keeping that ring on through everything they went through was her testimony to that.
“ Why don’t you call me,” she whispered as she rubbed her eyes. “ Tell me you’re okay, baby.”
She never had to worry about him before. However, that night, she felt worried. She felt uneasy. She felt something she had never felt before. She felt something was wrong.
“ Oh my god,” she said as she adjusted her night gown.
Brenda was quiet for a moment as she reached for the lamp. Her huge breasts knocked over a water glass that was sitting on the night stand next to the telephone, and a box of tissues.
“ Oh dear,” she said as she stood the glass up immediately. “ How clumsy can I be?”
She had forgotten that she rested the glass there and she knocked it over reaching for the telephone. She grabbed some tissues and tried her best to wipe up the spill.
“ This spill is going to have to wait until tomorrow morning,” she said as she picked up the phone.
She took a deep breath.
“ Baby, where you at?” she said softly as she dialed her husband’s cell number. It rang three times and then came the voice mail message.
You’ve reached the deacon, I’m praying for you, so while I do that, leave me a message.
“ Baby, it’s Brenda, where you at honey? It’s late and I’m worried sick.”
She hung up, and dialed the number again.
You’ve reached the deacon, I’m praying for you, so while I do that, leave me a message.
She was quiet again for a moment, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to say next. Her big brown eyes looked sadden as she hung up the phone. Her dark circles were almost black as she rubbed them with the back of her hands. She knew it was the worrying that was taken its toll on her.
Brenda Brandon picked up the phone again and dialed my number.
Nick Barnum here, at your service.
“ Nicky, pick up the phone!” she half shouted.
Hello?
“ Nicky?”
Who the hell is this at 3 in the morning? Shit better be good!
“ You just watch your mouth when you’re talking to me,” she said.
B B?
“ Yeah, it’s me Nicky.”
Is everything okay?
“ Mike isn’t home yet.”
It’s almost 3AM?
“ That’s why I called you,” she said. “ I’m afraid something has happened to him.”
Did you call his cell?
“ Twice.”
That’s not like him.
“ Well, he hasn’t been the same ever since his niece was murdered,” she started. “ But he still never did anything like this before. Nicky, I’m really worried.”
B B, I’ll get up and I’ll look for him.
“ You’ll do that for me, baby?”
Of course.
She smiled.
Why don’t you just get some rest. I’ll call you when I have something.
“ If it’s all the same, Nicky,” she said. “ I’ll just wait by the phone.”
Of course.
“ Thank you Nicky.”
Anytime B B.
Brenda Brandon closed her eyes and hung up the phone all in one motion.
2
I sat at the foot of my bed with the phone still in my hand. I had taken off my clothes just a few minutes ago. I was barefoot, wearing my boxers and a T-shirt. I had just finished a night of playing cards with Victor Cruz, and Alfredo Fuentes. It was a good night for me, and I just wanted to sleep. I won over three hundred dollars, and drank a whole bottle of Southern Comfort. My head wanted to explode, but I promised B B that I would look for her husband.
My footing slipped a bit from under me, and I caught the end of the bed to regain my balance. I knew it was the booze telling me not to go out and look for the deacon. I had to regain my composure and settle myself. A promise is a promise, and I don’t like going back on my word.
“ Settle yourself, big guy,” I said to myself. “ You need to go back out and do what you have to do for B B.”
My phone rang and it startled me for a moment. I had forgotten I still had it in my hand.
“ Hello?”
Nick!
“ Mike?”
Nick, you gotta help me!
“ What’s up?”
You gotta help me.
I saw the empty bottle of Southern Comfort on my night stand and I picked it up and looked in. I didn’t know why I did that, but I just did. Perhaps it was just to embrace me for something unexpected. Perhaps, I just wanted another shot.
I killed a man tonight.
“ You what?” I dropped the bottle.
I killed a man tonight.
“ Holy fuck!”
That’s what I said.
“ And you’re wife is looking for you,” I said. “ She called here tonight. She’s worried, and now you’re going to put her through the ringer. What the hell happened?”
I don’t’ know.
“ What do you mean, you don’t know?” I asked. “ You killed a man!”
It happened so fast!
“ It still happened,” I said. “ You’re going to have to turn yourself in.”
I can’t do that, just yet.
“ Why?”
Because I told you, it happen too fast. I punched a guy out, and he fell over some tables. Bouncers threw me out of the joint, and someone ran outside and told me that the guy I hit was dead.
“ How did he die?” I asked. “ With just one punch?”
That’s why I can’t turn myself in, just yet. I need you to meet me at Frankie’s diner off of Barnum Avenue. Can you do that?
“ Now?”
It has to be now. I got nowhere else to go, and I got no one to run too either.”
“ So you pick on me?”
You’re suppose to be at my service.
“ Why don’t I call Vic and Alfredo to meet us there,” I suggested.
No cops for now!
“ Okay deacon,” I said. “ But you’re gonna have to call your wife, she’s worried sick.”
I lost my cell phone.
“ Call her from this damn pay phone!” I shouted. “ You called me, now you call her!”
Don’t get so nasty, Nick. I’m the one who killed a man.
“ I’m not so sure you believe that,” I said.
That’s why I wanna meet you at Frankie’s diner.
Calling me first was so not like the deacon. He had a strange way of putting all his little ducks in a row. He would never speak to anyone on his duck’s list until he cleared it with B B. She was his anchor, his safe haven. Not calling her was simply not the way he handled things. It just seemed so uncharacteristic of him. He didn’t even sound too convincing when he said he killed a man. I’m sure there was a dead man, but I can’t be too sure if he was killed by the deacon. But stranger things have happened.
He was a good Christian, and killing someone would not be on his list at all. No matter what happened. I knew that and, I was certain that the police would realize it as well.
So you’re coming, right?
“ Are you close to the diner?” I asked.
Very.
“ Are you going to call B B when we hang up?”
Nick, don’t be getting on my nerves. I don’t feel right tonight. I will hang up on you. You know me man.
“ I do,” I said. “ I’m just wondering why you don’t want to get Vic, or Alfredo involved. You’ve known them for several years. I’m sure they’ll be willing to help you out.”
Right now I need you.
“ Ok, even though I had a rough night, and I wanted to get some sleep,” I started. “ I’m coming now.”
Thanks Nick.
“ Just don’t jerk my chain,” I said. “ You better call your wife, and you better have a good reason why you’re not calling the police. I don’t want to get involved with a murderer.”
You know I ain’t no murderer!
“ I know Mike,” I said. “ Just trying to lighten things up.”
He did not respond.
“ Hey Mike, you there?”
He had already hung up the phone.
“ Damn.”
I dreaded every step I had to make that night, but a friend in need comes first. I could have told him that I was busy with a girl or just made something up. A thousand lies raced through my mind, but none of them came out of my mouth. He wanted me to meet him at Frankie’s diner, and that’s what I had planned to do.
“ Damn, that man can’t call me when I’m sober,” I said.
Drinking too much was my idea, so I really shouldn’t be complaining about the condition. I am Bridgeport’s finest private investigator, and one of Bridgeport’s finest men need my help. It was certainly a no brainer. The pleasure I received from the bottle was about to cash in its chips.
“ Stay up Nick,” I tried to calm myself. “ Get focused.”
3
I sat and drank coffee and ate pie waiting for Mike Brandon to show up at the diner. There was an older man seated three seats down, and a small overweight truck driver seated in a booth behind me. However, I didn’t see the deacon.
There was a man coming toward me wearing rain boots. He also had on a heavy jacket, and he was using socks for gloves. It was warm outside, so I didn’t understand why he was overly dressed. His boot thudded softly on the diner floor and he stood about a foot in front of me. I thought he was going to ask for change, but he didn’t.
“ Got the time?” asked another seated three seats down. He smiled and I noticed he was missing all his front teeth.
“ 4-am ,” I answered.
“ In the morning?”
I nodded.
“ Damn, where does the time go?”
I nodded again.
The overly dressed man turned and walked away when he saw the on duty manager walk out of the back room.
“ Was he bothering you?” the manager asked.
“ No,” I replied. “ Not at all.”
He smiled and walked back into the kitchen.
“ What’s your name?” asked the toothless man.
“ Nick.”
“ Hey Nick,” he smiled again flashing only gums. “ I’m Terry.”
I nodded.
“ I use to come to this diner years ago,” he continued as he tried to strike up a conversation. “ Back in the 70's.”
“ Nice.”
“ The area was much nicer then.”
“ I’m sure it was.”
“ Peaceful,” he said.
I smiled.
“ That’s why I’d come over here for breakfast,” he said. “ There’s nothing like the service they had.”
“ They treat you poorly now?” I asked.
“ Not really,” he grimaced. “ They just think I’m a bum. Oh, of course they’ll sell me coffee, but I don’t get no free refills, or anything like that.”
I nodded.
“ They think I’m a bum.”
“ I heard you the first time.”
“ No free refills,” he continued. “ Can you believe that?”
“ Did you ask for a free refill?”
“ No, didn’t think I had to.”
“ Maybe that’s why you’re not getting any.”
He looked away annoyed.
The deacon walked into the diner wearing a baseball cap with the brim very low as if he was trying to conceal his identity.
“ Mike,” I called.
The deacon had a barrel chest, and big arms. He was dark skinned and had a clean shaven face. He wasn’t dressed as your typical deacon. He looked like he was running a marathon. His sweats were wrinkled, and his tee-shirt torn and covered with dried blood.
“ Hey Nick,” he said as he sat on the stool next to me.
The waitress came over wearing a black hair net and a stained uniform. “ Coffee?”
“ Black,” replied the deacon.
She poured him a cup and left him four creamers.
“ Thanks.”
“ So tell me what’s going on.”
“ I was at this dog-fighting event...”
“ Dog-fighting?”
“ Let me finish,” he said. “ I was placing bets and winning all night. I hit the big one, and the bookie didn’t have enough to pay me.”
“ So you killed him?”
“ No,” he said as he sipped his coffee. “ I grabbed him and pushed him a little. He took a swing at me and missed. I punched back and busted his nose.”
“ That’s the blood on your shirt?”
He nodded.
“ But how did you kill him?”
“ He came at me again and I kicked him over some tables,” he continued. “ At that time One-Eye Froggy’s bouncers threw me out of the club.”
“ One-Eye Froggy?”
“ Club owner.”
I nodded.
“ I guess when they threw me out,” he started again. “ Someone came out and told me that the bookie broke his neck and died.”
“ So it was an accident?”
“ No,” he replied. “ They told me I broke his neck.”
“ So you don’t really know?”
He shook his head from side to side indicating no.
“ You’re going to have to be straight, and clear with me on this one,” I said.
“ I’m trying, Nick.”
The waitress had poured us another cup of coffee. We drank it together without really saying another word. The look on his face was that of confusion, and sorrow. Nothing matched. The deacon was not much of a gambler, and I couldn’t picture him at a dog-fighting match. His dark eyes were darker, and his face seemed gloom.
He played the part of a guilty man on the run, and that was so obvious that it made a chill ride up my spine. I never expected the deacon to be in this much trouble. He was always good for setting a good example. In fact, he was the best in that department.
“ So this Froggy is a bad man?
“ Big time.”
“ Business man?”
“ Wants to be.”
“ Never heard of him.”
“ I did.”
I smiled.
“ He’s really tough, Nick.”
“ Tougher than me?”
The deacon nodded.
“ So this Froggy is now in town, right?”
“ He is.”
“ You’re getting caught up in the wrong places,” I said. “ And with the wrong people.”
“ I am, but..” his voice was scarcely a croak. It rattled as if he was stuck in a freezer for about an hour. “ I didn’t expect to be in the wrong places with the wrong people.”
“ Nobody expects it.”
He grimaced.
“ Trying to make extra money for the church?” I asked.
He nodded slowly as if he wasn’t really sure if I had asked him a genuine question.
“ Murder? I don’t know what to say,” I said. “ But it feels more like an accident.”
“ How much trouble am I in?” he asked quietly. “ If it really was a murder?”
“ I don’t know.”
“ Can’t go to jail,” he said. “ I just can’t. Whose going take care of my baby. She can’t live without me, and I can’t live without her. That’s just the way it is.”
“ Why don’t you talk to Captain Frank Roque, and tell him what happened,” I suggested. “ Tell him that I’m looking into things, and you’ll turn yourself in as soon as I find something concrete.”
“ I hit the guy,” he said. “ I broke his nose. How much more concrete evidence do you need?”
“ For now,” I said. “ Lets just call it an accident.”
“ You think he’ll keep me out of jail?”
“ Talk to him,” I said. “ I smell something rotten.”
He looked confused.
“ Just tell the captain everything you told me,” I started. “ Let me look into this and we’ll get to the bottom of this, one way or another. You gotta trust me.”
“ I do,” he said. “ That’s why I called you first.”
“ Did you call your wife?”
He nodded.
“ Go to her,” I said. “ Tell her what happened too.”
He nodded again.
“ Do you want something to eat?” I asked.
“ I’m not hungry,” he replied. “ Just worried.”
“ I understand,” I said. “ I’m not going to lie to you. I won’t tell you everything is going to be alright. I need to walk down some alley ways and come up with something tangible. I’ll pay this One-Eye Froggy a visit. I’ll see what really happened after you clocked the bookie.”
“ He’s a mean son of a bitch.”
“ So am I.”
“ He can come at you hard Nicky.”
“ I learned to duck years ago.”
The deacon had his eyes solely on me. The rattling of plates didn’t cause him to look away. He looked at me as if I had all the answers. He had so many questions, and didn’t know how to ask. He just wanted answers.
“ I’m going to do my best,” I said.
“ You always do.”
“ Go to your wife.”
“ I disappointed her, you know.”
“ She’s a big girl, Mike.”
“ Thanks Nick.”
“ Thank me when I’m done.”
He smiled.
“ Go home to your wife.” I said again. “ Really.”
“ Yeah, I better.”
“ She can be the comfort you seek.”
“ She always was.”
I smiled.
“ She always was,” he repeated softly.
He drank some more coffee, and I watched.
One-Eye Froggy?
4
The next morning, the news ran with the story that the deacon had killed a man. They left out a lot of details, but murder was murder nevertheless. I knew this wasn’t going to sit to well with the men on Congress Street. They liked the deacon, and they respected him. He was a pillar of the community, and now he was a hunted man.
The Police headquarters located on Congress Street was buzzing. It was a large building with two floors. There use to be a large plate glass window at the entrance, but it has been removed and replaced with strong glass doors. By removing the large plate glass window, that police command center lost its panoramic view of the City of Bridgeport’s Westside.
They were all surprised about the reports, and they wanted to launch their own investigation. They couldn’t believe that Mike Brandon was capable of murder. He was God’s soldier. He was a man everyone trusted. He was a visionary, and so much more.
Detective Peter O’Brien and I met for lunch on the patio at Danny O’s in Shelton. It was early afternoon, not too hot, with a nice early morning breeze. I ordered a Mango Splash with a hint of rum, and O’Brien ordered a beer.
“ It doesn’t get any better than this,” I said smiling with my drink.
“ Yeah, that drink fits you like a glove,” he replied.
I smiled.
“ Damn, that Mango Splash looks good,” said the waiter. “ I think I’m going to order one too when I get off. I served so many of them this past month.”
I smiled.
“ No, really,” he said.
“ It’s my first time trying it,” I added. “ Looks even better on the menu cover.”
The waiter smiled as he left to help other customers.
O’Brien was a big man with a strong upper body. He was purposely bald and kept his head shiny. He was fair skinned and always clean shaven. His appearance meant a great deal to him because he wanted the public to experience his professionalism.
O’Brien had a lot of peanuts on his plate, but he wasn’t eating any of them. He would occasionally break open a few, but fail to pop them into his mouth. I had to think it was because of the deacon.
“ So you’re asking me to ask Captain Roque to not pick up the deacon until you’ve completed your investigation?” asked O’Brien. “ Is that what I am to understand?”
I nodded.
“ I don’t think Roque will be down for that,” said O’Brien. “ The deacon killed a man.”
“ But that’s my point,” I said. “ I don’t think he did.”
“ Papers got the news, and eye-witnesses.”
“ I need to speak to those so-called eye-witnesses,”I said. “ And you have to remember that they left out so much detail.”
“ So the papers got it wrong?”
“ No, Pete” I said as I picked up a few of his opened peanuts and tossed them into my mouth. “ They were fed the wrong information.”
“ I don’t get it.”
“ They never mentioned the dog-fighting, and the late night gambling.”
“ They did say it was at the Frogger Club.”
“ That club is known for Salsa Dancing,” I said. “ But it has secrets. And those secrets are going to reveal itself to me.”
O’Brien huffed ever so slightly.
“ I just need a little time,” I said. “ I need you to keep the police away from the deacon until I check into this. I’m not asking for much.”
“ And we do owe you,” he said softly.
“ Yes!”
“ Don’t push it,” said O’Brien. “ It’s still not my call.”
“ But you’re the man.”
O’Brien huffed again.
There was a thin young lady sitting two tables down from us. She was looking at us the whole time, and it was probably the first time I noticed her. She had white skin, and matted brown hair that seemed to be pressed to the top of her head. Her face was lusterless, and her eyebrows bushy. She was a very unattractive woman, but she seemed to be noticing us. I opened my jacket to check to see if my gun was loaded. It was comforting to know that it was. Not because of the unattractive woman. It just made me feel free.
“ You see that woman looking at you,” said O’Brien.
“ Why me?”
O’Brien smiled.
The woman stood up and walked toward us with a hopeful expression. I looked down at her and didn’t realize I was staring at her extremely tight jeans that accentuated her crotch area. She had a sexual gait, but there was nothing sexual about her appearance.
“ Excuse me sir,” she said smiling.
I smiled back.
“ I couldn’t help to notice you ordered that Mango Splash,” she said as she pointed to my drink.
“ Yes I did.”
“ I was thinking about ordering it,” she said still smiling. “ But I wanted to ask you about the taste. Is it worth ordering, and does it have enough booze in it?”
“ Not worth the money,” I honestly replied. “ And a little too fruity.”
“ Really?”
“ Sadly yes,” I said. “ Pictured it looked good, but tasting it, I don’t know.”
“ Not enough booze for the price?”
“ Not enough anything for the price.”
“ Just order a beer,” O’Brien added. “ You can’t go wrong ordering a beer.”
“ I think I’ll have my usual,” she said with a continuing smile. “ Beer is not for me.”
“ Have a nice day,” I said returning the smile.
“ Thank you,” she said. “ You saved my seven dollars.”
“ That’s the only reason why I’m drinking it,” I said. “ I don’t want to lose my money.”
She smiled, turned, and walked away.
“ What?” O’Brien said curiously as I titled my head.
“ She has a nice ass,” I replied.
O’Brien smiled.
“ So you’re going to speak to the captain?”
“ He’s not going to agree,” O’Brien replied. “ But I’ll talk to him.”
“ I’m sure you can convince him,” I said. “ You talked me into buying this drink.”
“ You did that all on your own buddy.”
I smiled.
“ I’ll give him good conversation,” said O’Brien as he cracked opened some more peanuts and failed to pop them into his mouth. “ I will.”
“ That’s all I want you to do.”
“ But you gotta tell the deacon to keep in touch with us,” He added.” I don’t want him running a little too far. You know, it’s for his own safety.”
“ He’s afraid.”
“ He’s needs to stay where we can get to him.”
“ Okay,” I said. “ I’ll talk to him. I’ll get him to stay put. Just you make sure you speak to the captain. Get him to back down until I finish.”
“ I hope he can do this for you,” said O’Brien as he finished his beer.
“ You’re his friend,” I said. “ Try a little convincing.”
“ He’s the captain.”
“ I need some time, Pete.”
“ I’ll see what I can do.”
“ That’s all I ask.”
He smiled.
5
There were five witnesses on the list that O’Brien gave me and each one of the witnesses didn’t seem to credible. I decided to call on each one of them. The first one on my list was Margie Sanchez. She lived on Gregory Street off of Park Avenue and near the University of Bridgeport. She lived on the bottom floor of a six family wooden frame house that was in dire need of repair. I rang the door bell several times before a young woman opened it up.
“ I’m looking for Margie Sanchez,” I said as the young woman just stared at me.
She was wearing tight Seven jeans and a white tank top with a black bra. She was a little darker than an olive skin. She had full lips, and dark eyes. Her face was slightly angelic, and her attitude was worn on her sleeve. It appeared as if she had a chip on her shoulder.
“ Whatcha you want her for?”
“ Just going to ask her a few questions,” I replied.
“ Police been here.”
“ I’m sure they were,” I said. “ But I’m not the police.”
“ Then who the fuck are you?”
“ A private investigator,” I replied.
“ What the fuck is that?”
“ I don’t know,” I replied. “ It’s just a summer job I took because I knew I could handle it.”
“ I’m Margie,” she said.
“ The witness,” I said softly.
“ What?”
“ I need to ask you about the murder, and about the deacon that was accused.”
“ Fuck man,” she said as she stepped out of the house. “ Whatcha you wanna know?”
There is not really a way to force that young woman to stop swearing so much. It’s such a shame, because her mouth takes away from her beauty.
“ How did you see this whole thing play out?”
“ What the fuck do you mean?”
“ What happened?”
“ This fat bishop...”
“ Deacon,” I corrected.
“ Whatever,” she was annoyed. “ He came up to Carlos Rivera and started arguing. He threw the first punch and missed. Carlos threw the next punch and it hit the bis... deacon and that set him off.”
“ Mike threw the first punch?”
“ Yep,” she replied. “ The bis... deacon came at him with all he got. He punched Carlos in the mouth, and then kept punching him until he broke Carlos’ nose. Carlos didn’t fight back, he just fell over some tables.”
“ The deacon did all this?”
“ Hell yeah man,” she continued. “ The bouncers threw out the deacon...”
“ Aww, you got it right.”
She rolled her eyes. “ And then the bartender checked Carlos and said he was dead.”
“ Neck broken?”
She nodded.
“ Did you know why they were fighting?”
“ I don’t know, don’t care.”
“ Why were you at the club?”
“ I’m a fucking whore,” she said. “ I do my business there.”
“ Police know?”
“ Told them.”
“ Club owner know?”
“ He didn’t throw me out yet.”
“ You give him some money for soliciting there?”
“ I got three kids to feed, I gotta do what I gotta do!”
I nodded.
“ Don’t judge me, mother fucker!”
“ Only God judges,” I said.
“ Is that all the questions?” she asked.
“ Yeah,” I replied. “ I think I got what I need.”
She turned around slowly.
“ How much you charge?”
She stopped, but didn’t turn to face me.
“ Difficult question?”
“ Too much for you to afford,” she replied.
“ That would be?”
“ Five hundred dollars for three hours,” she said. “ Cash up front.”
“ What can I get for twenty bucks?”
“ A kick in the nuts.”
“ Ouch.”
She entered her apartment and slammed the door.
6
The next witness on my list was Roberto Guzman. He owned Guzman’s Bodega over on the Eastside of town. It was located on a small dead end street off of East Main Street. The place was busy, but I had to speak with him because he was next on my list. When it came to lists I’d often follow the same pattern.
The small store had lots of stock and lots of customers. He actually did a bang up business. I didn’t think he’d have time for me, but when I asked for him he immediately stopped what he was doing and came over.
“ You the police?” he asked.
“ No, a private investigator,” I replied.
“ What do you want?”
Mr. Guzman was probably in his late sixties. He was bald on top, but had lots of gray hair on the sides. He also had a thick gray moustache, and thick gray eye brows. His glasses were thick and he walked with a limp.
“ I want to ask you some questions about the deacon at Froggy’s nightclub,” I said.
“ Carlos Rivera’s death?” he asked.
I nodded.
“ What do you want to know?”
“ I wanna know what happened,” I replied.
He scratched the top of his head as if he was thinking about what to say. I stood there with my arms crossed waiting for him to reply.
“ The bishop..”
“ Deacon,” I corrected.
“ Whatever he was, “ he said “ He came up to Carlos Rivera and started arguing. He threw the first punch and missed.. Carlos threw the next punch and it hit the bishop and that set him off.”
Where did I hear this before? I said to myself jokingly.
“ He’s a deacon, not a bishop,” I corrected.
“ Well anyways, the deacon came at him with all he had. He punched Carlos in the mouth, and then kept punching him until he broke Carlos’ nose. Carlos didn’t fight back, he just fell over some tables. I don’t think Carlos wanted to fight this man. He was clearly not thinking right.”
“ I see.”
“ That Bishop is a big guy,” he continued. “ Like you, but a black guy.”
“ I know him, and he’s a deacon,” I corrected him again. “ I don’t understand why you guys can’t get that right.”
Mr. Guzman’s cashier was standing behind the counter. She wore small black-rimmed glasses low on her nose so that she could check the prices better on the product she rung up. Her hair was dark brown with light highlights. The light highlights gave her face such a wonderful glow. She was trying to get his attention, but he didn’t see her.
“ Hi, “ I said to her. “ I’m Nick Barnum, at your service.”
She smiled.
Mr. Guzman turned around with angry eyes and shouted. “Get back to work, I don’t pay you to stand around and flirt with all the guys that come in here!”
“ I’m sorry,” she said. “ But I wasn’t flirting, Mrs. Lopez wanted to ask something.”
“ What does she want?”
“ Credit,” she replied almost quietly.
“ No credit!” he shouted with a vein sticking out of his neck. “ I can’t give anyone credit this week. I need cash paying customers! If anyone asks for credit, tell them I said no!”
“ Relax Mr. Guzman,” I said. “ She’s only the messenger.”
He grunted.
“ She’s doing her job,” I added. “ And if you ask me, very well too.”
“ Nobody’s asking you,” he half shouted.
“ All I’m saying is that you should relax. That’s all.”
“ You don’t under...” he stopped abruptly.
“ What don’t I understand?”
“ Nothing,” he shot back. “ Are you done asking me questions about the bishop, and Carlos Rivera?”
“ Dea.. Forget it,” I said. “ Yeah I think I got what I need from you.”
“ Good,” he said. “ I’m really busy today and I got to get back to work. Lots of bills to pay, and I need to stay ahead of the game. I’m sure that’s something you wouldn’t understand. You’re not a business man.”
I smiled.
He turned around and walked toward the cashier.
“ Mr. Guzman,” I called.
He stopped but didn’t turn around.
“ What is it exactly, that I don’t understand?”
He did not reply.
“ Business?”
He said nothing.
“ If you need my help,” I paused. “ Just ask.”
He still didn’t reply.
“ I’ll leave you some of my cards,” I said as I tossed a few of my business cards on the floor. My name is Nick PT Barnum, and I’ll be at your service if you need me.”
He was still silent.
“ It’s my business,” I continued. “ I do know a little about running a business.”
He rushed away.
7
I met Detective Peter O’Brien at the end of my work day. He wanted to meet at Seaside Park so he could get his jogging in. He wasn’t the type to just sit around and waste time. If he could fit in an activity, he would.
I started jogging with him as he poured bottled water over his bald head to keep him cool.
“ You know I never need to do that,” I said.
“ I guess you don’t run much.”
I smiled as I kept up my pace with him.
“ So what did you find out?” he asked.
“ I got the same bull-shit story line you guys did,” I replied. “ They were coached.”
“ That’s why Captain Roque is not taking in the deacon yet.”
“ Good to hear.”
“ But that dog fighting club doesn’t exist,” he said.
“ What do you mean?”
“ We pulled a surprise shake down at the club that Froggy owns,” he paused as he caught his second wind. “ There was nothing but Salsa and Merenge.”
“ You checked everything?”
“ Top to bottom.”
“ So this guy is clever,” I said.
“ He’ll slip up, if he’s guilty. The guilty always do. You know that.”
“ So do you think there is a dog-fighting ring going on?”
“ I can’t say no, but we haven’t seen anything yet,” O’Brien replied. “ If we don’t see one, it really doesn’t exist.”
“ That’s a terrible way of looking at things,” I said.
“ It’s got to be the only way,” he continued. “ Can’t arrest people on hunches. But we can arrest people if we have witnesses. I think the captain is going out on a limb for the deacon. But he understands the situation and he’s giving you the chance to square him.”
“ Good guy, that captain.”
“ Bad witnesses,” O’Brien shot back.
“ Those witnesses,” I continued as I too had to catch my breath. “ Did they say anything about gambling?”
“ You didn’t ask?”
“ I thought I’d ask you.”
“ No gambling,” he replied. “ There was only Salsa and Merenge.”
I smiled.
“ I had to take Mike’s wife to do some counseling,” he said. “ She’s really not taking this too well.”
“ Has the deacon been home?”
“ She told me that he comes and goes,” he paused. “ He doesn’t stay because he’s afraid that the captain is going to change his mind and arrest him for the murder of Carlos Rivera.”
“ I understand.”
“ But he doesn’t,” he continued. “ He should be home with B B. That woman is staying up late, and she’s not eating too well either. I thought, maybe counseling would help her through this. I hope I’m right.”
“ You’re all heart.”
“ I’ve known her for a long time,” he said. “ I really don’t want anything to happen to her.”
“ Me too.”
“ She was always a strong woman,” he continued. “ I think over the years...”
“ Go ahead, say it.”
“ I think over the years, her strength was weakened by Mike Brandon.”
I nodded and didn’t say anything. I was pretty sure that Detective Peter O’Brien really didn’t mean to say it that way. He was probably motivated by the events that played up to that statement.
“ And..” O’Brien paused as he drank some warm bottle water. “ She’s taking just a little too much. You know Mike wasn’t always on the up and up.”
“ I know.”
“ God saved him.”
“ I know that too.”
“ But Brenda was always on the up and up,” he continued. “ She was a true Christian woman.”
“ She puts up with it,” I paused briefly as I caught my breath. “ Because she loves him and she has always loved him. There was never a question about that.”
“ Do you think she’s weak because of it?”
“ No, I don’t.”
“ So he was always the one for her?”
“ The one?”
“ Yeah, the guy that makes your heart stop, and your feet sweat,” he explained. “ You know, the one that you really can’t live without. Like the girl you use to date. I remember you telling me that you think you found the one.”
I smiled.
“ So?”
“ Mike is the one for her,” I replied. “ And there was no mistake about it.”
“ And Zoraida was the one for you?”
“ I thought,” I replied. “ I put her and her son in harm’s way. She had all the reasons to dump me.”
O’Brien laughed.
“ What?”
“ You really loved her, you son of a bitch!”
“ I’m not going to lie,” I said. “ Yeah I did.”
“ So it wasn’t just sexual?”
“ At first, maybe.”
He laughed again.
“ I’m telling you the truth, and you laugh?”
“ You’re a funny guy.”
“ She was good in bed,” I said. “ Damn, I miss that.”
How good?”
“ I don’t want to talk about it.”
“ Okay,” he said as he stopped and bent over with his hands on his knees. “ What are you going to do next.”
“ My list goes on,” I said as I stopped next to him. “ I’m going to pay Larry Bonilla a visit.”
“ He’s going to be a tough one,” O’Brien warned.
“ Look at me, Pete,” I said. “ I’m 6'2 I weigh 245 pounds, and it’s solid muscle, not fat. I can take care of my myself.”
He nodded.
“ So bring tough on.”
“ Don’t worry, you’ll get it with him.”
“ Tired of running?” I asked.
“ I’m done,” he said as he stood up.
“ I could have gone all day,” I lied.
He winced.
“ Really!”
“ I’m Pete, not your secretary, Janet.”
“ Leave her out of this.”
He smiled.
“ Thanks for the run,” I said as I began sprinting back to my truck.
“ Good-luck!” he shouted.
I waved my hand above my head without turning around. I didn’t want him to see that I was almost out of breath.
8
Larry Bonilla did business out of a store front located downtown Bridgeport. He sells dollar items in a 99 cent store. Didn’t understand why he didn’t call it a dollar store or something of that nature, but who was I to judge?
The door was covered with Spanish cock fight promotions, and passed winners.
I went in.
The store had junk tossed into baskets that lined the walls. At the check-out, with long dark hair and wearing looping gold earrings was a very attractive Asian young woman. She was talking on her cell phone and turned around when she saw me.
“ Hello,” I called.
She ignored me.
“ You know, I could steal.”
She turned around and slapped her cell phone shut. “ Dollar shit?”
I smiled.
“ What do you want?”
“ Am I bothering you?”
“ I was busy,” she replied.
“ Too busy for customers?”
“ People that buy this dollar shit ain’t customers,” she replied.
“ That’s not very nice to say,” I said. “ I was just going to by a tooth brush.”
“ What do you want?” she shot back.
“ I’m looking for Larry Bonilla,” I answered. “ And I know you’re not him.”
“ You must be a fucking genius to figure that out.”
“ Well,” I paused. “ I am a private eye.”
“ Whose asking for him?” she asked ignoring my statement.
“ Nick PT Barnum, at your service.”
“ Wait here,” she said as she attitude her way toward the backroom. “ And don’t steal nothing.”
I smiled.
It was June in Bridgeport, which normally means gang violence, and beautiful women developing bad attitudes. The first hint of attitude gone bad was Margie Sanchez. The second sign was the attractive Asian woman. It was so patterned.
I kept looking at all the dollar items, and there were several things that I would have purchased. They were solid, and the price was terrific.
The third witness kept me waiting longer than I expected. He wasn’t so eager to speak with me like the other two. Maybe his story might be different. Maybe he had a change of heart, and will probably tell me the truth.
“ Hey Ming Lee!” I called.
She stuck her head out of the backroom and shouted. “ It’s Linh Le! Asshole. Get it known!”
“ Get it known?” I whispered. “ What does that mean?”
“ My boss will see you,” she said as she walked passed me.
“ In there?”
She nodded.
“ Thank you.”
She did not reply.
I walked into the back stock area and Mr. Bonilla was leaning against some boxes smoking a cigarette.
“ Mr. Bonilla, I have questions, I may already know what you might say, but I have to ask anyways.”
He smiled.
“ It’s about the deacon and Carlos Rivera,” I said.
He nodded.
“ Just want to hear your side of the story,” I said
“ I figure that,” he replied.
There was a sadness to the man’s eyes, it was as if he knew telling me the truth was out of the question. Mr. Bonilla was a tall thin man, with an honest face. He had no facial hair, but he rubbed the bottom of his chin as if he were massaging a beard.
“ Did you say deacon?”
I nodded.
“ So that man wasn’t a bishop?”
“ Nope.”
He tossed the cigarette to the floor and stepped on it.
“ I thought he was a bishop.”
“ Everyone thought that.”
He grimaced.
“ Well?”
“ The deacon,” he said slowly as if he was trying to think of the correct words. “ Came up to Carlos Rivera and started arguing. He threw the first punch and missed. Carlos threw the next punch and it hit the deacon and that set him off.”
“ So the deacon went to town on him?” I asked sarcastically.
“ Broke his nose, and snapped his neck.”
“ You saw the deacon snap his neck?”
He hesitated.
“ Mr. Bonilla?”
“ No,” he replied. “ The bouncers threw him out and later the bartender said that Carlos was dead.”
“ Okay, something a little different,” I said.
“ Listen man, I have a family, and I really don’t want to get involved.”
“ Then don’t, tell me the truth.”
He hesitated for a long time.
“ Truth?”
“ I told you the truth,” he said as he took out another cigarette and lit it up. “ That’s all I got.”
“ I can help you,” I said.
“ I don’t think so.”
“ You’re helping to send an innocent man to jail,” I added.
“ Nobody that hangs out there at the club is an innocent man.”
“ Is there dog fighting?”
“ No.”
“ Are you sure?”
He breathed in. “ Yeah.”
“ You know I really can help you,” I said. “ I know something is bothering you, and I can get Bridgeport Police to help. I know a few of those guys and they will stick their necks out for the right reasons, and for a good cause.”
His head fell to his chest.
“ Think about it,” I said as I walked over to him and placed some business cards into his shirt pocket. “ Remember one thing, I’ll always be at your service.”
He smiled.
9
The next day I had my first encounter with Froggy’s boys. It started as an all day tail. They followed me everywhere I went. Perhaps they wanted to follow me to the fourth person on my list. The bartender at Froggy’s club, Jackie Reeves. He was the fourth person I had penciled in, and I do follow my list religiously.
The tailing has become more obvious, so I decided to find out why the tail. I drove down Lee Avenue and parked at a corner gas station that closed several years back. The building was boarded up and the pumps were stripped clean. Just the shells were still in place. I hid behind a dumpster that was covered in graffiti as I waited for my tail to pull in. It was just a few seconds more that went by when a light blue late model car with four doors pulled up behind my green Ford Explorer.
A heavy set Hispanic suit opened up the passenger side and stood behind the opened door visually combing the area. He had his left hand on his hip and pushed his right hand into the breast pocket of the suit. I had to make my move so I quickly jumped behind him and put my gun to his head.
“ Hello, fat boy,” I said as I cocked the gun.
“ What the?”
I smiled.
The driver did not hesitate as he quickly opened his door and pointed his gun at me from over the top of the car.
“ Let him go!” he demanded.
“ Can’t do that,” I said with a hint of smugness. “ It’s not my style.”
“ I’ll drop you, punk!”
“ Not before I drop him,” I replied.
“ Who cares,” said the driver. “ He’s a fat piece of shit anyways.”
“ Warms my heart to see such a loving family,” I said.
“ Drop the gun!” He shouted.
“ Like I said the first time,” I replied. “ I can’t.”
The driver looked agitated. He was a well dressed Hispanic male in his mid thirties. His suit fit him like a glove. He had a thin moustache and he wore stylish sunglasses.
“ I’m warning you,” he continued.
“ So you don’t care about your buddy?” I asked.
“ He’s not my buddy,” the driver quickly replied. “ Just an expendable associate. They come a dime a dozen.”
“ Damn, dog eats dog world,” I said.
“ Girl eats girl, it’s all the same to me, just semantics.”
` I smiled.
“ Last warning,” he issued.
“ What you’re telling me,” I continued stalling. “ Is that you don’t mind if I put a bullet into your fat associate?”
“ Be my guest.”
I smiled.
He smiled.
I fired a shot through the inside of their car hitting the driver in the left thigh. He dropped to the ground in pain as he held his bloody leg.
“ Oops,” I said.
“ It hurts, it hurts!” he screamed.
“ It should,” I said. “ I shot you.”
“ Froggy is not going to like this,” said the fat guy.
“ I don’t really care what Froggy likes or dislikes,” I said. “ Now fat boy, why were you following me?”
“ Fuck you!”
“ I’ve been hearing too much swearing these passed few days,” I said. “ Frankly, I’m sick and tired of it.”
“ Froggy will hear about this!”
“ I’m sure he will.”
I hit the fat guy in the back of his head with the butt of my gun and he dropped to the ground like a stone. I never realized how weak the big guy was. I thought he had a little more fight in him, but I was wrong. He just had a lot of fat in him.
I waited for a few seconds to see if the fat guy would come to, but he didn’t. “ Damn you’re weak.”
I walked around the car toward the driver. He was still on the ground holding his thigh wincing in pain. It was a beautiful sight.
“ I’m bleeding badly!” he shouted.
“ I can see that from here,” I said.
“ I need help!”
“ Mental or physical?”
“ Damn you!”
“ Well,” I started as I kicked his gun away. “ If you don’t tell me why you were following me, I’m going to let you bleed to death. And trust me, bleeding to death isn’t going to be pretty. When the end comes closer, you’re going to know it.”
“ I can’t.”
“ Of course you can.”
“ Really, I can’t.”
“ You know blood can easily drain out of two bullet holes very quickly” I said as I tried frightening him. “ You’re going to go into a deep sleep, and then die. It’s that simple, my friend.”
“ Two bullet holes?” He looked confused. “ You only shot me once.”
“ Once?”
He nodded.
I shot him in the other leg.
“ Damn!”
“ Better?”
“ You’re crazy!”
“ And you’re going to bleed to death,” I said as I stepped on his designer sun glasses. “ So, why were you following me?”
“ I can’t say anything.”
“ So you’d rather bleed to death?”
“ Froggy will kill me anyways,” he sobbed.
I really wanted to know why they were following me, so I thought really hard about my next statement. I had to think about it, because It was something I wouldn’t have done. It was something so out of the ordinary, that thinking about it first was my only option.
“ You know,” I started. “ I know for a fact that you’re fat buddy there will tell me what I need to know.”
He looked confused.
“ You’ll die. He’ll tell your boss that you told me, and he gets off Scott free,” I smiled devilishly. “ Or, you tell me. Kill him, and then tell your boss that you had to kill him because you overheard him telling me. Get it?”
The driver thought about it.
I smiled.
The driver thought about it some more.
I smiled some more.
He wanted to, it was written across his face.
“ Well?”
“ One Eye Froggy wanted us to follow you because he needed to know that you got the information he wanted you to get. If anyone told you something different, we had to kill the witness. It wasn’t just you we followed. We followed that fat cop...”
“ O’Brien,” I said.
“ It wasn’t anything against you,” he continued. “ We just had to make sure you got what he wanted you to get.”
“ So the witnesses were coached?”
He nodded.
“ Mike Brandon didn’t kill that man?”
“ That I can’t tell you,” he said. “ I wasn’t there.”
“ But why the cover up?”
“ I don’t know,” he replied. “ But the deacon did get into a fight with that bookie.”
I nodded.
“ There must be some truth to what these witnesses are saying,” said the driver. “ But Froggy wants them to use his words.”
“ I see,” I pursed my lips a bit. “ Is there dog fighting at his club?”
“ That moves around,” he replied.
“ So there is dog fighting?”
“ All the time.”
“ When and where is the next fight?”
“ Chico on Wordin Avenue.”
“ When?”
“ Sunday after mid-night.”
“ Damn, that late?”
He nodded.
“ Well, thank you my friend,” I said. “ You’ve been a wealth of information.”
“ My gun,” he begged.
“ I see, the deed.”
He nodded as I retrieved his gun.
“ You’re going to call for help, right?”
“ I always keep my promises,” I replied.
I took out my cell phone and dialed 911.
911 emergency.
“ Hi, I’m calling from a closed down gas station on the corner of State Street and Lee Avenue. I need you to send an ambulance right away. There’s been a shooting and two people have been shot. I think one is dead, but the other can be saved if you come right away.”
Your name?
I hung up.
The driver smiled.
I smiled.
I jumped into my truck and turned right onto State Street and left onto Yale Street and then I heard two shots ring out. I didn’t turn around nor did I look through my rear view mirror. Their family problems are their own business.
10
Later that evening I walked into Froggy’s bar on Fairfield Avenue. I heard it was a jumping place, but that night there weren’t too many patrons. In fact you couldn’t really get a good checker game going with the patrons there. Perhaps it was early, or perhaps the murder of Carlos Rivera had something to do with it. I didn’t know and Frankly, I didn’t care. My job was to question witness number four. Jackie Reeves.
The bartender was no more than 23 years old as he stood behind the bar wiping glasses. He was a thin Latino and African American mixed. He had the olive skin with the black facial features. He had an Afro, but it was pulled upward and held together with a rubber band. He looked like a Dr. Suess character.
I sat directly in front of him.
“ Yes?”
“ Beer.”
“ What kind?”
“ Becks.”
“ Five dollars,” he said as he placed the open beer in front of me.
I gave the bartender a ten and he walked toward the register and rung me up. He came back with five singles and slapped it directly in front of me.
“ Slow tonight?” I asked.
“ It’s early,” he replied. “ The crowd don’t kick in until 11pm.”
I nodded.
“ Old folks like you don’t need to come.”
I smiled.
He walked away.
“ Hey bar keep,” I called and he turned around. “ I’m looking for Jackie Reeves.”
“ Why?”
“ Questions about the murder that happened here,” I replied. “ I hear he was one of the witnesses.”
“ You heard right,” he said.
“ You’re Jackie?”
He nodded.
“ So, “ I started. “ Can I ask you some questions?”
“ I don’t think so,” he said as he walked back toward me. He leaned directly in front of me as if he was going to kiss me or smell me.
“ Not so close,” I said as I backed off just a little. It was at that time, I realized that there was a security button beneath the counter, and he was simply reaching for it.
“ I already spoke to the real police,” he said.
“ Now you need to speak to me,” I threatened.
“ I don’t think so,” he said as he grinned sheepishly.
“ Why not?”
“ Because of my insurance policies.”
“ Insurance polices?”
He grinned sheepishly again.
I turned around and saw two mountain men standing on each side of me. They were big and stacked with muscles.
“ Your polices?” I asked as I pointed to one of them.
Jackie nodded.
“ Would you speak to me if I had your polices cancelled?”