Chapter 15
An Arresting Development
By Kathryn Dysart

Just as Novak was easing into the only open, albeit illegal, spot on the narrow one-way street in front of Joe Rizzo’s apartment building, he saw a flashing light atop an unmarked car speeding down the street in his side view mirror. The police car came to a screeching halt right next to their car. The cop sitting shotgun rolled down his window.

“Move it,” he said, waving his hand with a sweeping motion directing them out of the spot. “Now!” he yelled as the driver backed up getting out of Novak’s way.

“Okay, man.  I’m going,” Novak called out as he pulled away from the fire hydrant.

The cop car moved forward again, making a sharp right turn, pulling in on an angle almost perpendicular to the fire hydrant, blocking the street.  Leaving the flashing light on, four policemen jumped out of the car and raced to the front door.

“Whoa… Boss.  What’s happening?”

Kucinich, in the backseat with his iPad still on his lap, turned around just in time to see out of the rear window the frantic commotion of the hustling police officers running into the building.

“There must be more going on in there than a hot-headed, low life little scum bag playing with himself. Let’s go around the block. Hurry,” Kucinich said.

The police car was still blocking the street when they finally made it around the block. By this time, a small crowd of pedestrians was hanging around to see who or what would be coming outside. 

“We’ll have to wait until the cops finish what they’re doing before we take care of our business. It’s probably some guy beating up his girlfriend or, in this neighborhood, his boyfriend,” Kucinich said.               
________

Kate sat at her makeshift design table in the middle of her bedroom until the wee hours of the morning working on the Manhattan Mayhem team uniforms.  Not being able to afford a tilting worktable, she had bought a large piece of plywood and put it on top of the small desk that she inherited from one of the ex-roommates.  To tilt the board she had used a bar stool placed behind the desk.  It wasn’t ideal but it worked.

It was almost noon when Kate woke up the next morning. She felt great. For the first time in months she allowed herself to dream of a future with her own line of women’s sports clothing. In her fantasy, all the manufacturing would take place in a warehouse in Brooklyn with her design offices in the same building. Just like Stella McCartney, she wanted to support the local economy and be an environmentally friendly company. Every aspect of her clothing line would be from the “good ol’ US of A.”  She might be a tad more pricey than her competitors at first, but the quality would be exceptional, closely monitored by her.               

“Marie…” she called out.  “Are you here?” 

Kate looked on the table where they sometimes left notes for one another.  There was no sign of Marie. 

“Darn,” she thought.  “Why didn’t I ask her about her plans for today?”

Looking around for her phone to text Marie, she thought about the concerned look on Marie’s face when she got off the phone with Joe the night before.  Kate had been so anxious to start on the new designs she let the look slide and filed a mental note to ask her about it later. 

“Where r u?” was the text.         
________ 

At Eastside, Hank was leaning on the reception desk thinking about where he and Yvette could have dinner.  He wanted an intimate restaurant with good food where they could share a nice bottle of wine over dinner.  He was feeling at a loss for a decent idea when Marlene Kucinich sauntered by the desk.

“Hank, how are you?” she asked. “I heard your daughter and I have something in common.”

Surprised by this announcement that triggered a sharp pang of protective parent instinct, Hank said, “What’s that?” 

She gave a little tug downward on the zipper of her leopard warm-up suit jacket revealing her neckline and moved in closer to Hank. 

“My sources tell me Pike doesn’t discriminate. Apparently, he likes women of all ages,” she said.

Now Hank was pissed.  His better judgment though told him, do not engage, although he was curious to know who was talking to her about Kate.  

“Not sure what you’re referring to but I could use a good recommendation for an intimate restaurant,” he said.

She took the bait and jumped into a soliloquy about a place in the West Village she had just been to called Mas La Grillade.

“My friend says taking a girlfriend to this restaurant is a total power play. It’s by far one of the best, most sensual eating experiences you can have in the city. When you walk in the lighting sets a crazy sexy mood. The wood smell and fire from the grill make it feel really cozy.  They have grilled oysters, earthy tasting Hen of the Woods mushrooms… it’s all ridiculously delicious grilled food.  You have to go,” she said.        
________

Pike stood for a few seconds, a little dumbfounded, looking at the door that Joe closed in his face after he fired him and kicked him out of his apartment.  The dog threat was too much and Pike’s anger was starting to register.

Oh shit, bloody hell, he thought before turning around and walking back to the elevator. On second thought, seeing the exit sign, he decided to take the stairs. This would be preferable to staring at himself in those damn elevator mirrors. His steam fueled descent made him miss the first floor, landing him in the basement laundry room. He took the exit door in this room, putting him on an unfamiliar street. He picked a direction and started walking at a fast clip to the nearest bar.
________

 It took about fifteen minutes before the four police officers exited the building where Kucinich was waiting to enter to look for Pike.

Two of the officers escorted a man in handcuffs to the unmarked police car, shoved him inside and drove off.  The other two officers were handling two very large, and a third very mean looking dog.

 Kucinich waited until the police officers with the dogs reached the curb before he went inside the building. Reaching the specified apartment he knocked on the door. Some of the other residents were mingling in the hallway talking.

One man called out, “You’re wasting your time, pal. He was just arrested.”

“For what?” Kucinich said.

“Not sure. Probably drugs. He had a dog-walking business. Must have been a front for whatever illicit dealings were going on. No wonder folks were always coming and going from the place.”

Kucinich was confused, wondering what kind of goose chase Jerry had sent him on. When he got back to his car, Novak said,“ Any luck?”

“No. What happened to those dogs?”

“The officers put them in a police van.  Musta been taking them to the pound,” Novak said.

A buzzing sound was repeating on Kucinich’s phone. He pulled it out of his pocket to look at his text messages:

“Your man Thomas Pike is trouble. Watch out. He was extradited from NZ. Police looking for him in US. Had something to do with the Christ Church embezzling scam.”




A retired squash enthusiast, Kathryn Dysart lives in Katonah, NY where she is currently building a sustainable "green" home on a country road. She is a hobby bee keeper, a local food advocate, and in recent years she has spent more time with squash vegetables than squash racquets.


This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.