Chapter 6
I spent all of Wednesday morning pouring over the legalese in four different preliminary versions of the new Doberman’s Stub recording contract. Terry’s initial proposal was, as expected, well beyond where he hoped to end up. The following three proposals gave a strong indication that Terry felt he had a great deal of leverage and was not willing to settle for anything short of a contract befitting a business savvy, headline act. The contracts also revealed a major surprise. In each of the proposals there was a clause allowing the band to fire one of its members. Jeannine popped into my office with a handful of papers.
“I think you’re going to want to look at this right away,” she said. I reviewed Internet printouts as Jeannine gave me a summary. “When Yuliya shifted a significant portion of its assets into a joint venture with the Ukrainian company, they were required to file a report with the SEC naming the officers of the corporation. For the first time I saw the name Ivan Chofsky. I then got into an English language search engine for Tass, one of the major news services in Russia. When I ran Ivan Chofsky, I found several articles on the kidnapping of his daughter.” Jeannine then picked up the stack she had handed me and pulled out one titled, Gruesome Development on Chofsky Kidnapping. “This one tells about how the kidnappers cut the daughter’s pinky off at the knuckle and mailed it to her father.”
“It sure looks like proof positive that Ivan Chofsky is John Koflanovich,” I said. “Excellent work, Jeannine.”
She smiled and gave me a shy look. “There are several more articles on the kidnapping that I haven’t read yet. I clicked through and read headlines and first paragraphs, but none of them looked like they would explain how the case ended.”
“Keep digging,” I said. “It’s important to find out if Chofsky cut a deal with the Russian Mafia to get his daughter back.”
Did you ever have one of those ideas where you know you should ignore it, but you do it anyway? This idea would allow me to go on my usual mid-week date with Kelly and also work on the case. But, that little voice inside of me was screaming, You’re an idiot if you do this. I ignored the little voice and called my mother.
“Hi, Mom. I have an idea I think you’ll like, but I’m worried that it could turn out badly.”
“What is it, dear?”
“Would you and Dad like to accompany my girlfriend and I to the Padres game tonight? I could get a little more advice from Dad on my case and both of you could meet Kelly,” I said with apprehension.
“That sounds marvelous,” she said.
“I think the two of you would get along well. I’m just worried Dad will say something that will make me regret doing this.”
“I can certainly understand why you feel that way. It was very insensitive of him to use the word Wop in front of that lovely Italian girl you brought home before the prom,” she said.
“That’s just one of many times he’s offended a friend of mine.”
“He’s actually gotten much better since he retired. He hardly ever uses ethnic slurs anymore, and now he only curses at strangers when he’s driving,” she said with a small measure of pride in her voice.
“If we do this, we should probably meet at the ballpark.”
“That would be best.” After a brief pause she added, “Why don’t you sit between your dad and Kelly, and I’ll sit on the other side of her. This way you’ll be able to chat with your dad and I can pull her attention away if he starts to say anything I think would upset you.”
“Great plan, though I still feel like I’m going to regret this,” I said.
“Kelly sounds Irish. What’s her last name?”
“Kennedy.”
“Your dad will be thrilled. What could go wrong?”
“For one, her family is alcoholic,” I said. “I can see the first words out of his mouth being, ‘I’ll bet you’ve had some wild parties on St. Patrick’s Day.’”
“What a shame. Your Uncle Bert in Cleveland is a mess. That’s why he’s never been invited out to visit. And, your third cousin, Matilda, has liver damage from her bad habits. I’ll tell your father about her situation and give him a list of taboo topics. OK?” she asked.
“OK. Let’s meet in front of Gate C at 6:45. I’ll get the tickets. If Kelly has a problem I’ll call back.”
“Relax. We’re going to have a wonderful time.”
I called Kelly and, although two baseball games in one week was definitely not what she had in mind for the evening, she was thrilled that I asked her to finally meet my parents. We’ll see how thrilled she is after the game.
On our drive to the park I said, “Kelly, I know you’ve been very up-front with me about your family and I haven’t said much about mine. I think you’ll get along well with my mother. In fact, she asked that you sit between us, which I think is a great idea.”
“That’s fine with me.”
“But Dad is another story. As you know, he was a city cop for 30 years,” I said. “When you spend that much time interacting with the dregs of society, you can get very insensitive. Dad tends to say things that I find embarrassing. I’m just worried that he’ll offend you and I’ll spend the next two months wondering if you think I’ll turn out just like him.”
“There is nothing your father could say or do that could come close to what I’ve experienced with my family.”
“Maybe not,” I said. “But I’m still going to feel embarrassed and wonder what you’re thinking.”
“I’ll tell you what. If your dad says anything that I think will embarrass you, look at me. I’ll give you a wink that means he’s still not in the same league with my family. OK?”
“OK,” I replied as we pulled into the parking lot.
“All I ask is that you make an effort to have a good time tonight and don’t let your dad get under your skin, or I’ll pinch you.”
“What!”
“You heard me. And, if I catch you throwing gasoline on the first little spark, you’re going to owe me a month of chick flicks. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes Miss Kennedy,” I replied, like one of her students being taken to task.
I secured the best seats available, which turned out to be quite good since the Padres were ten games out of first place in mid-August. After I did the introductions, Mom insisted Kelly call them Molly and Jim. This was a first. Dad seemed to choose his words carefully, and managed to keep his foot out of his mouth as we made our way through a concession stand line and to our seats. Mom took charge when we arrived and got everyone situated in the desired spots. Dad was on the aisle, followed by me, Kelly and Mom.
Once we got settled in and Mom engaged Kelly’s attention, Dad asked, “Any new developments in the case?”
Over the first three innings I gave him a summary of all that had transpired, except for the gunshots in the parking lot of the Ukrainian Citizen’s Club. I stopped only for the Star Spangled Banner, and when Kelly asked me to hail a soda vendor.
“What do you think you’ll find in Tecate?” he asked.
“I’m convinced that the money to finance Koflanovich came out of Yuliya,” I said. “Do you think it’s possible that the guy with the money might be calling the shots at Cerise?”
“That’s good thinking son. I guess that matchbook-cover detective school is finally paying off. Did you hear anything at the birthday party that might help confirm your suspicion?”
“Most of the older men were speaking Russian. The Learn Russian at Home in your Spare Time course must have been on another matchbook,” I said.
I didn’t realize my voice had gotten louder until I felt Kelly’s fingers drumming on my leg. When I looked, her fingers moved into the pinch position and tapped my leg twice while she continued a pleasant conversation with my mother. That engineer at Perfect Pitch has nothing on Kelly when it comes to multitasking.
The women took a rest room break in the sixth inning and returned with refreshments, including beers for the guys.
Mom said, “Jim, you haven’t had much of a chance to get to know Kelly. She’s really a lovely girl.”
Dad looked over me at the women and replied, “It’s hard to be sociable when your son’s chewing your ear off. Do you like baseball, Kelly?”
“Oh yes,” she said. “I don’t watch it on TV, but I love coming out to the ball yard.”
“That’s great. I thought this one,” he said, poking a thumb in my chest, “was going to grow up to think second base meant an extra four-string guitar. But he’s turning out alright.”
Dad smiled at me, actually thinking he paid me a compliment. Kelly could sense that I was getting angry. I opened my mouth to say something, but she beat me to the punch.
“Jim, have you ever seen the movie Steel Magnolias?”
Dad replied, “Isn’t that a chick flick? I don’t go for them, but I’m sure Molly’s seen it.”
“I just saw it and really enjoyed it. I’m going to talk with Molly about it while you two go back to your shoptalk. OK?”
“Sure, you do that.” Then he turned to me, and in a quiet voice said, “Does she drag you off to see those things?”
“Not yet.”
Over the next couple of innings Dad shared stories about cases he worked that had some similarities. When we got into the top of the ninth inning he said, “I’ve got a confession to make. I made a lot of my cases working closely with Forensics. O’Hara said he’d check with them about your case and meet me at Casey’s Bar. When I got there he was sitting with Dennis Fallon, the Forensics Department night supervisor. As he was giving us the grisly details, O’Malley and McCoy joined us. When he was done, O’Malley, who has a bunch of relatives in Belfast, said the IRA has been using blasting cap bombs for the past 50 years.”
“Dad, I appreciate your help, but, unless the IRA and the Russian Mafia worked out a merger that nobody knows about, I don’t see how that’s gonna help.”
“Since I retired I’ve been helping your mother with her jigsaw puzzles. It seems like with every puzzle I work on I come across a couple of pieces that look like they don’t belong. Do you think I should throw those pieces out?”
“I see where you’re going, Dad. But I also know that you and your buddies think the world revolves around the Emerald Isle. Thanks for helping out,” I said as the announcer gave us the final score: Giants 3, Padres 1.
When we got to the parking lot and were about to part company, Dad gave me a curious look that I had never seen before. He then gave Kelly a little hug, which was way out of character for him. “You’re welcome to come over for a visit anytime,” he said.
As we walked toward my car, Kelly said, “Your mom is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. You’re a lucky guy.”
“You’re not kidding.” Holding my thumb and forefinger an inch apart I added, “I came this close to a month of Fried Green Tomatoes and The Bridges of Madison County.”
“You got that right.”
When we found the Acura, I noticed that the black rubber weather strip alongside the driver’s side window was pushed in toward the bottom. It looked like somebody tried using a coat hanger to pop the door lock.
“Kelly, would you do me a favor and run over to the vendor by the entrance and pick up a miniature Padres bat for my nephew?” I asked, handing her a $20 bill.
“Sure,” she replied, snatching the bill out of my hand.
Without asking questions she walked toward the entrance. I don’t know much about car bombs except that they’re usually located either under the driver’s seat, the dashboard, or the hood. As she walked away, I carefully ran my hand under the passenger seat and found nothing. I walked around to my side and repeated the procedure until my fingers touched a hard, plastic object. I withdrew my hand as carefully as possible and reached into the console for my flashlight. With both of my knees on the parking lot pavement, I turned on the flashlight and placed it on the floor so that it would illuminate the space under my seat. As I leaned forward to rest my head on the floor, a bead of sweat ran down the side of my face. When my eyes adjusted to the light I let out a loud sigh as I recognized the object to be my nephew’s Darth Vader action figure. While I was down there, I looked under the dash and noticed nothing unusual.
After getting to my feet, and brushing off my knees, I popped the hood and began my final inspection. I noticed a red wire running under the air filter and bent down lower to have a closer look. When I reached the lowest point in my bend, I was sure I had detonated a bomb. My body flinched in one huge spasm and I banged my head hard on the hood as I bolted upright.
In a dazed state I heard Kelly say, “I’m so sorry, Jason. I had no idea you’d react like that.”
When my eyes refocused I saw Kelly holding a miniature blue baseball bat and realized she had spanked me on the butt.
“I think you had better drive home,” I said, cradling my head and easing myself into the passenger seat.