I, the Tribunal Read online

  “Noted.” I reached over and batted an ear tuff before dialing the number.

  The voice on the other end of the line sounded cheery. “Hello.”

  “Hello. Do you have an opening for tonight, or are you booked?”

  “And you are?”

  “Douglas Banks. A little weasel downtown gave me your number. He said…” I flipped the card over where a single word was scrawled on the back. “to say hello to Mandy.”

  “Okay. Be here before nine. The entertainment starts then. Are you just staying for it or are you interested in dancing all night?”

  “Not sure if my legs can handle that much dancing, but I’m willing to give it a try.” I winked at Velvet, but she crossed her arms and glared.

  “I’ve got your name down in the books. The dance is cash only. Ring two longs and two shorts at the door.”

  “Will do.” I put the phone back in its cradle and smiled at Velvet. That’s when I noticed the tears in her eyes.

  “What… What’s the matter?”

  “The thought of you going to one of those places.”

  “I don’t like them either, but we need information.”

  “I know but… I can’t help it.”

  I put my arm around her. “It’s nice to be worried about. I promise I’ll be careful. What I need you to do is stay by the phone, either here or at your home. If I need backup, I’ll need it quick.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Before setting off to my appointment, I called Duke for an update. Without telling him about Phillis, I gave him a list of numbers that included the whore house and double checked the address. Duke was still playing fair, but I didn’t want to show my hand just yet.

  I left early for my appointment and parked my car a few blocks away. Casing the joint was easy. The three-story brownstone apartment building sat in a quiet neighborhood. If not for the light in the top window, I wouldn’t have thought anyone was in.

  The place was perfect to set up shop. Quiet, dull, no cubs or kits to cause trouble, and most likely patrolled by a bored out of his mind beat cop.

  Satisfied with what I saw, I stamped out my cigarette on the sidewalk and crossed the street. After the required rings, an older female goat appeared. The doe looked like anyone’s mother with her conservative dress and single string of pearls.

  “Douglas Banks,” I said and tugged at my hat.

  “Come in.”

  The goat ushered me into a room livelier than the dull exterior. Whoever decorated the place dropped some cash because everything was new and of quality. The velvet lined curtains explained the reason I couldn’t see any light from outside.

  “Can I take your hat?”

  “Sure.” I handed it over, and she disappeared for a minute. When she came back, she sat down on one of the chairs opposite me. “Fancy place.”

  “Yes.” She looked at me with her rectangular eyes and asked, “Do you mind telling me which of our associates you talked too.”

  “A little weasel about yay high, in need of a good swift kick in the pants.”

  “Ah yes, he took a week off after his encounter with you, Mr. Wrench.”

  “How’d you know?”

  “I read the newspapers, Mr. Wrench. And it’s not like you are an unknown. What are you really here for?”

  “What’s wrong with the dancing?”

  The does ears flicked back and forth as if debating. “Twenty-five, up front. Then you can go upstairs.”

  Once I handed her the dough, she led me to the stairs and pushed a button in the newel post. A chime sounded and a female panther opened a door and motioned me up to another sitting room. Not as fancy as the one downstairs, but I’m guessing the assortment of females wearing next to nothing was supposed to be the decoration.

  The trouble was, I didn’t know what Phillis Downs looked like. The panther glanced at me and asked, “Are you looking for something or someone in particular?”

  “Yeah.” Grasping for the alias Phillis used, I said, “Tanya Smith.”

  The look the panther gave me had me wondering what kind of person Phillis was. “This way.” She led me down a hall lined with doors. We stopped at the last one on the right, and she knocked on the door. “Tanya, you have a visitor.”

  A female’s voice came from the other side. “Just a minute.”

  The panther gave me another long look and sauntered back to the sitting room.

  “Come in,” called the voice.

  Once through the door, I understood the odd look that the panther gave me. Phillis was a horse, and not just any horse, a Shetland pony. She sat at a dressing table wearing nothing but her brazier, panties, and slippers.

  She might have been pretty once, but her profession had drained the life out of her, and it shown in her dull empty eyes. A male could take a whip to her, and she wouldn’t make a sound. “Hello.”

  “Hi yourself.”

  Not wanting to be caught in some trap, I checked the room for wires. Shelves, table, even under the bed. She just watched me from her chair. “There’s no dictaphone here if that’s what you’re worried about. Also, the rooms are sound proofed. You could do anything you want, and no one would be the wiser. What do you want?”

  “To talk to you, Phillis.”

  At first, I thought she was going to pass out, but then her eyes hardened. “What do you want? Did my father send you?”

  “The name’s Kaiser Wrench. Jeremy Wilkins, a good friend of mine, was murdered a few days ago, and your name was in his notebook.”

  “Jeremy?” The news got an unexpected reaction out of her, and tears ran down her cheeks like someone had turned on a faucet. “How? Why?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

  “Jeremy was always so nice. He even tried to help me, but…” Phillis buried her face in her hands and went full on balling.

  “Come on, crying is not going to help, now talk to me. Apparently, Jeremey wanted this place raided tonight. What’s going on here? Who’s going to be here?”

  Phillis shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. Between sobs, she managed to get out, “These places are all over. None of them are special. Sometimes there’s extra entertainment when a convention is in town, but that’s all I know. I’ve never seen any important people.”

  I knew the type. Nasty people who presented a mask to the world while underneath that facade was a depraved creature any sane person would steer clear of.

  “How’d you wind up in this mess, Phillis?”

  The question gained a whole new mess of tears.

  I tried again. “It might have to do with Jeremy’s murder.”

  She nodded and lit up a cigarette. “I was going to the Midwest to become a teacher. That’s where I met Sheldon Haze. It was a co-ed school, you see. He was so sweet, shepherds can be like that, and his markings were so fascinating.” Phillis sniffled and looked away. “But he wasn’t a good shepherd. Instead of keeping me out of trouble, he led me straight into it. My schooling suffered and my folks found out. By that time, I had no money and Sheldon disappeared.”

  By this time the waterworks had slowed, and Phillis took another drag on her cigarette.

  “I ended up… Let’s just say I met some not so nice people who knew my track record and took advantage of the situation. There were a bunch of us they carted around the city to wherever we were needed. That’s when I found out Sheldon had a habit of leading females astray. Poor Clare. That sheep was devastated when she found out it was all a lie. That he’d tricked her too. Slashed her wrists.”

  Phillis’ hand went to a drawer in the dresser, then pulled away before opening it. Curious, I reached over and pulled the drawer out. The box inside was mahogany, and I flipped the lid open. Inside were the syringes.

  “Tranquilizers?” I asked.

  “A horse’s choice.”

  Only then did I see the track marks where her hair had grown thin.

  “How long has it been since you left college?”

  “
Twelve years.”

  I took a five out of my wallet along with a business card and set them on the dresser. “Do me a favor and don’t spend it on the drugs. If you find out anything more, call me. By the way, your mother still worries about you. Maybe you should give her a call.”

  I found the back way down from the second floor and met the old goat in the hallway.

  “You’re not staying?” she asked.

  I picked up my hat and headed for the door. “Nope, I’m all tuckered out.”

  Once outside and back in my car, I started the engine and pulled closer to the house where I could get a good view of who was arriving. Jeremey wanted this place raided tonight. But why? Phillis was right, these places were a dime a dozen with any number of vultures waiting to pick clean the bones of those who succumbed to venereal diseases. Thank goodness that old bird, Uncle Sam, sat me down and gave me a lecture.

  What had Jeremey found out that had gotten him killed and in such a monstrous way? Twelve years was a long time in the business. This place didn’t seem like it was going to get me any answers, but I didn’t have a clue as to what to do next.

  The more I went over everything I knew, the more questions I came up with. I was playing with a ball of string and getting nowhere but tangled.

  The people who entered the house were from all walks of life. If I had an infrared camera and was into blackmail, I could have made a fortune and then some. At least four people going into the house were politicians.

  A half hour was usually enough time to conduct their type of business, but after that amount of time no more people showed up, nor did anyone leave.

  Then the light bulb in my brain went off. I started my car and sped to Jeremy’s apartment. After breaking both the police seal and lock, I used my skeleton key and walked in. The phone hadn’t been disconnected, thank goodness, and I called police headquarters and asked for Duke.

  “Captain Duke Barrow.”

  “Duke, this is Kaiser. I’m calling from Jeremy’s place. I got two things. First, grab a couple of guys and get your tails over here, and bring any books you might have taken from this place. Second, have the riot squad on standby.”

  “You found something.”

  “Maybe, but time is short.” I hung up before he could say any more. The bookshelf was what I wanted, and a quick search gave me three yearbooks dated about fifteen years ago. When I had spotted them before, I discounted them as unimportant. More fool me.

  Each of the books were from Midwest colleges, and I flipped through them trying to find a photo of Sheldon Haze. Jeremy was an ex-cop and found out what Phillis was doing. It wouldn’t take much for him to trace what happened.

  Duke showed up with a bundle of books and set them on the coffee table. “This better be good.”

  Frustrated at not being able to find Sheldon’s picture in the books I had, I gave Duke the low down. Together we looked for Sheldon’s mug in the books Duke brought but still came up with nothing.

  I asked, “Why’d you take these books?”

  “They were open on the coffee table. Seemed weird.”

  “Find anything interesting?”

  “A couple of felons, but they’re locked up. Are you sure this is what got Jeremy murdered?”

  “It has to be. The dates match the time line, and his notes.” I handed Duke the notebook, and he glanced through it.

  “So now what?”

  I shook my head. “Wish I’d asked Phillis what college she’d gone to.”

  Duke flipped the back cover of the yearbook open. There was a stamp from the bookstore Jeremy got the book from. The ink was smudged but the phone number was readable. “Why don’t we ask the store owner?”

  He picked up the phone and miraculously got the store owner. Duke practically put the fear of god into the guy, but he convinced him to reopen, and that we were on our way. Duke left a hound to guard the apartment while the rest of us piled into a squad car. With lights on, sirens wailing, and dogs howling we got to the bookstore in record time.

  An old tortoise opened the door to our banging. Duke jumped right on in. “There was a guy who bought several yearbooks here. Do you remember him?”

  “Perhaps. I’m a bit busy and have several customers.”

  “You record your sales, don’t you?”

  “Sort of. Yearbooks don’t really sell.”

  “How many did he buy?” Duke was getting impatient and looked about ready to do more than bark questions.

  I picked up the tortoise and said, “Show us where he got them from.”

  The tortoise pointed the way and soon we had the other books on the shop floor.

  “We had about three dozen. I think he bought ten. The rest should really be tossed out, but one never knows.”

  “My three, your three, that leaves four. Now what, Duke?”

  “We need your records.”

  “But—”

  “Now!”

  I hefted the shopkeeper, and helped him find the ledgers while Duke called in more uniforms to help search. With the extra eyes we managed to find the original receipt of sale plus the list of books we were looking for.

  I asked, “What’s the likelihood of us finding these books in another store?”

  “We don’t need a store, we got the public library.” Duke was on the phone again, and within minutes, we were back in the car speeding to the city’s main library. The badger, still in his pajamas and night cap but with his coat and shoes on, had the books we needed at the desk when we arrived.

  We took two books apiece and searched. When I found the picture of Sheldon Haze, I could barely believe my eyes. Duke recognized the guy in his book as well.

  One more call to headquarters and we were back in the car, speeding to the house I was at earlier in the evening. By the time we got there, the police had the building surrounded, and the people inside cuffed. A worried schnauzer ushered Duke and me upstairs. “We have a situation, sir.”

  “What do you mean?” growled Duke.

  The schnauzer pointed to the opened door of Phillis’ room. The smell of cordite and blood was too strong to miss. Phillis lay naked on the bed with a hole in her chest. Sheldon Haze, also known as Damien Styles, was on the floor with one in his head.

  “There goes our prime suspect,” said Duke.

  “Want to bet this was done by a .45 loaded with dumdums?”

  “That’d be a sucker’s bet.”

  CHAPTER 9

  “Explain.” Duke barked the order, and the schnauzer not only jumped but saluted.

  “It must have happened just before we arrived. We tried trailing the gunman, but this place is pretty smelly. The only exit is through the back, but that’s barred by an eight-foot fence and the scents out there are minimal.”

  “What about the cellar?”

  “Locked, both inside and out, sir.”

  “Then he has to be still here.”

  We looked over everyone in the place, thinking we’d find Axel Dabrowski. No luck there. But neither did we find the old goat who ran the place.

  The homicide dogs showed up along with a wagon to take everyone down to the station for booking.

  Duke had calmed down by then. “Do you understand what this was all about?”

  “Some. Damien Styles was a procurer. He’s not a Malamute or any other kind of dog, but a wolf, and an older one at that. He must have gone to a plastic surgeon to change his looks and make him look younger. That and a good groomer to keep up the dye job and there you have it. Not exactly a wolf in sheep’s clothing but definitely a shepherd.”

  I offered Duke a smoke, but he turned it down.

  “Styles went to the colleges to do the snatch. Dabrowski ran the syndicate. Prostitution not numbers, like I first thought.”

  “Someone is running scared.”

  “More like cleaning house. Gut, heart, head, and all with dumdums. This sadistic bastard isn’t taking any chances someone will survive.”

  Duke nodded. “I’ll need you t
o look through a stack of photos. If you can recognize the female running this place…”

  “No problem. But the one I really want to find is Dabrowski.”

  “You and the entire department. Come on. Let’s go see if we can put a face to this doe.”

  “Can it wait for morning? I’m beat.”

  “Sure.”

  Duke had one of the officers drop me off at my car, and I headed for home.

  The next morning, I decided to stop by Dabrowski’s apartment, but Duke had been busy all night. The hound guarding the door recognized me and smiled. “The captain told me to tell you that Dabrowski left without taking anything.”

  “Go figure.” Another dead end.

  Frustrated and out of cigarettes, I bought a pack at the corner store. On a whim, I used the phone booth outside to call Sylvia’s office. She wasn’t in, but surprisingly, the secretary told me Sylvia was in Central Park. Once I got the specifics, I hightailed it to the park.

  The park was full of people, mostly females with kids. How many were nannies and how many were mothers was anyone’s guess.

  A vendor was selling fish bites, and he’d just handed over the bag when I spotted Sylvia pushing a pram. The image took me by surprise. Partly because of the pram but mostly because she was wearing a black and orange number that tricked the eye and made you look closer. I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed either.

  “Hello there.” I offered her a fish bite and glanced into the pram. A pair of corgi pups were curled up nose to nose and sleeping.

  “Hello, Kaiser, I was hoping you’d stop by.”

  “You were?”

  “Shouldn’t I be?”

  “That depends who you’ve been hanging around,” I said and motioned to the pups.

  She laughed. “They’re a friend of mine’s. I’m looking after them so she can attend to a few things. Jealous?”

  “Maybe.” I ate the last of the fish bites and tossed the bag into the nearest trash can. “You like cubs?”

  “Yes, I wouldn’t mind having a dozen.”

  “A dozen? I’m not sure I can support that many.”

  “I have my job, remember.” Her hand snaked through the crook of my arm. “Is that a proposal, or am I mistaken.”