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I turned the corner and rolled to a stop at 2319 West Auer Avenue, in front of Auer Avenue School. It was a dreary building constructed of weathered dark brown bricks. It is located on the Northwest side of Milwaukee and had been around for a long time. I actually spent my first two years of school there before my mother packed me into the family car and moved us to Brookfield, at the time, a small town situated west of Milwaukee.
I parked my Edsel convertible behind one of the unmarked squad cars. Next to the squad cars was a rusted out yellow Volkswagen bus that belonged to Horace Greenberg. I got out of my car and noticed Horace standing near Harry’s partner, Detective Paulie Menjou; it appeared he was trying to eavesdrop while the detective interrogated a pretty young lady. I waved at Horace as I started to walk across the asphalt to the dirt playground in the back. Harry was kneeling beside a body as I approached. Harry and I met in the third grade after I moved to Brookfield. The first time we were in the lunch line he slugged me in the stomach for no apparent reason. I sized him up at the time and decided it would be in my best interest if I befriended the big goof instead of fighting him. He was at least twice my size. Now he’s three times my size and it looked like he was still growing.
Harry was vigorously sucking on a Lucky Strike as he stared at the body on the ground. He looked up as I approached.
“What in the hell are you doing here?”
“You called me, remember?” I lied.
“Sure I did. Don’t let anyone hear you say that. Come here.”
He looked old and tired. His suit looked like he slept in it. I noticed his shirt was missing a button and his brown tie was tied too short again. It reached down to mid chest, stopping above his ample belly that was comfortably hanging over his belt. He said he hates ties.
“Do you know what’s with all these holes?” Harry asked pointing at the holes scattered around the playground.
“Marbles.”
“Marbles?”
“Yeah, at Auer Avenue Elementary School we shot marbles; kids shoot marbles into the holes. It’s called a pot. The first one to get all his marbles into the hole wins the pot, which consists of all the marbles in the hole. I used to play it every recess.”
“It’s good to know you went to school. So this is where you lost all your marbles?”
“Actually, I did. Who’s the bird?” I asked, pointing in the direction where his partner, Paulie Menjou, was questioning a young woman. She was wearing jeans that fit like a second skin and a sweater that fit her about the same, and from where we stood, she looked to be sizzling hot. I noticed, Harry’s partner was well aware of her attributes as well.
Harry looked up in the direction of Paulie Menjou and said, “Some girl from Atlanta who says she’s the half-sister of the vic. Paulie is getting a statement.”
“And an eyeful. What happened?” I asked, turning back to Harry after I got my fill of staring at the lady’s assets; they still had the attention of Detective Menjou.
“She was killed.”
“You don’t say. Do you know how?”
“A knife to the chest and a wicked gaping wound to her neck would lead me to believe she was stabbed to death, that along with about fifty other holes over her neck and chest. The coroner will have to confirm that. It looks like they sliced her throat to make sure she didn’t squeal. Then they cut out her eyes and threw her in the weeds. Whoever did this wasn’t too concerned about having us find the body. They didn’t even try to