Friday, June 7, 2019

Chapter Twelve of The Gymnopédist



Chapter Twelve 

Most probably, however he was writing that piece for piano, and it would become part of a haphazardly assembled output for the instrument, around eight hours of published music, which is the principle part of Satie’s legacy to us. Like the man, this body of work is far more varied and original and weird and important now than it might appear on first acquaintance.
                                      “The Velvet Gentleman” Pianist No. 90

Miguel woke up unsettled. His mind was playing the haunting notes of the piece “Vexations” by Satie. The single notes in a minor key kept going around his head. Then the single notes joined a minor fourth and marched on dramatically. Mrs. Hanson did not like this piece but Miguel played it as a warm up piece at every lesson. It was like armor. He played it to protect himself.


Reggie and Stevie walked out of the conference room at the Highland Police Precinct. Stevie stayed silent all the way out of the building. Once they stepped outside into the rising temperatures she looked over at Reggie. 
 “What do we do now?” She said. 
 “Follow orders and find George Wassott.” Reggie took out his sunglasses and settled them above his nose. “And, start our own little inquiry into the life of Detective Bart Mullins.” He said.
“I agree. But we can’t do it here. What do you think of driving north and visiting Jay?” Stevie was very fond of Jay, the computer whiz at the Seattle Police Precinct. He always seemed to be able to read Stevie’s mind and come up with the informations she needed. For a short, balding man without much physical attractiveness he was God’s gift to flummoxed detectives. She remembered when they were investigating the Judith Whitesides murder it was Jay’s work on the surveillance videos from the Washington ferry that made the positive identification of Judith’s murderer. 
“What do you think of getting more information from Captain Monson in Seattle about the Highland Park Police Chief’s request to have us transferred here?” Reggie asked.
“He didn’t give us an explanation when he gave us the assignment. I don’t know what he is willing to add. But, it is worth a try.” Stevie said.
When they were both settled into Reggie’s vehicle and she had buckled her seatbelt, Reggie asked, “Are we alright?”
Stevie looked over at his earnest face and wondered what he was really asking. Was the kiss going to change their relationship? 


The night sky was overcast. As Pablo walked with his hooded jacket pulled tightly around his face, he looked carefully in all directions. His job would have been easier had the police kept Jorge locked up. Then there would have been someone to blame. But things were never easy for Pablo. He was the son who had to do the dirty work. While Miguel took piano lessons, Pablo carried out orders from above. While Miguel climbed ropes and walked on wire, Pablo set fires, stole cars, picked up shipments in the middle of the night.————Things happened to him and all in all he felt he wasn’t to blame. A while back he decided not to choose what he wanted in life. If it was his choice then it was his fault. He managed what came his way. Shit happened everyday.
The night air was humid and lights were out in the Gonzales house. He moved slowly and carefully. Pablo was told that a drug shipment had been delivered earlier today and hidden in the Gonzales garage for a short time. Why wasn’t anyone guarding the drugs? He stopped to listen. If he saw someone they would maybe have a gun and he wasn’t carrying. But the Gonzales people were stupid. 
He knew where he would light the fire from watching the neighborhood the night before. Dried bushes and vines surrounded the garage. With the hot weather the brush would go up in flames immediately.  Juan would know that the Cervantes brotherhood was moving against him.
The garage was barely standing. Parts of the roof lay on the ground. No one bothered to gather them. The siding was ripped off on the side facing away from the house. He saw that the door was barred and locked with several chains. He didn’t need to break in, just let the walls fall after the fire ate up the wood. Taking a lighter from his back pocket he touched the long yellow stalks. The flames licked up the dry leaves and started toward the grass. He backed away into the alley behind the house. It wasn’t going to take long before the fire reached the inside walls. Should he wait and watch? No, he wasn’t really interested in the outcome. He had done what they asked, now things would just happen as they should. In the morning he would hear the news. His car was parked five blocks away. He pushed his hands into his jean pockets and pulled the hood even tighter around his face.

The olive drab of the Seattle Police Precinct was still dull and cheerless in the morning but familiar. Reggie looked over the large open room. Computer monitors were flickering on several desks giving a light show in the darkened room. With the thermometer rising to triple digits all sun was blocked in the large room. He recognized Jay, their favorite tech nerd, a little later than Stevie. She was already half way across the room, smiling with a welcome that let the sun flood in. Reggie didn’t remember Stevie having a thing for Jay in the past. By the time he arrived at the desk Jay was entering in the name George Wassot into his terminal. 
“So who is this guy?” Jay asked.
“He is a mentor of sorts to a young boy who died when he fell from a high wire.” Stevie answered. 
“Well he wasn’t hard to find. George Wassott is a CEO of a high profile development company in Highland Park. Isn’t that where you are working right now?”
 Reggie pulled out his notepaper. He liked taking paper notes instead of using his phone. Looking at Jay’s screen he copied down the phone number for the company called Regrowth Evolution.
“Can you find a page giving personal information on this guy?” Reggie asked. An idea was forming in his head. What kind of businesses were being  courted to come to Highland Park?
“Here is a bio on each of the company officers.” Jay scrolled over the pictures until they reached George Wassott. 
  “Look, there is a reference to his Olympic Gymnastic involvement. He was on the 2012 team but did not go to London with them. He was an individual all round competitor. He got his MBA in 2016. Then was hired by Regrowth Evolution specifically to revitalize the Highland Park business community. Does that help?” Jay asked.
“ It does, Jay” Stevie said. She turned to look at Reggie, raising her eyebrows. “What are you thinking?” 
“Well, here is what I see.” He pulled up a chair and sat down across from Jay leaving Stevie to stand behind, looking over Jay’s shoulder at the computer. “We have two rival gangs active in Highland Park. One lead detective who seems bent on getting rid of them. A Boys Club who provide physical activities for many of the boys who are rumored to be gang involved. A volunteer at the Boy’s Club who is very motivated to bring new business and upscale families to this fair city. What motivates the adults more, helping youth stay out of trouble or getting rid of the trouble so that Highland Park attracts new residents?”
“So what are the two of you doing for that police department?” Jay asked.
Ignoring Jay’s question Stevie put a hand on his shoulder. “Could you do a background check on Bart Mullins?” She asked.
“Who is he?” Jay asked.
Stevie looked over at Reggie and she didn’t answer that question either. 
Jay pecked on the keys and suddenly pushed his chair back and dropped his hands off the keys.
“Wait a minute. This is the detective you mentioned.” Jay stood and looked at both of them. “I don’t want to get involved in giving you information on a fellow officer. I’m going for coffee.”
Reggie watched as Jay left the room. He looked back at the computer which Jay had left open. Deftly Stevie slipped into Jay’s chair and starting looking through the open windows. 

Angelika Hanson, Stevie’s mother, was working from from home. She sat at her Steinway Grand, one hand writing in a binder and the other hand repeating a difficult passage of music. She was taking practice notes on a Sonata her student was learning. This was an early Beethoven Sonata which would have been just right for Miguel……had he lived. Grief seized her heart  and stopped her breathing. The silly piece ‘Vexations’ came to mind. It was almost as if Miguel felt his mortality was coming to an end. Angelika pushed the morose music from her mind and came back to Beethoven. As she tried several combinations of tricky fingering she became aware of the sounds of Rosa vacuuming upstairs. The machine hit the wall over and over again. Something was wrong. Rosa always cleaned her home without bringing any attention to herself. The vacuum switched off and peace returned. Angelika brusquely closed the binder and dropped the lid to her piano. She got up to close the windows in the music room to keep the heat from drifting through. A sniffling sound followed by a deep inhale of breath caught Angelika’s attention. She walked out of the music room, through the living room, and into the kitchen. The sound came again from the stairs and Angelika stood at the bottom and looked up to see Rosa awash in tears sitting at the top. 
“Rosa?”
Her cleaning woman did not answer. Angelika sat down and settled her back against the wall on a step below.
“I’m sorry Mrs. Hanson. I have a deep sorrow and need to stop for a few minutes.” 
“That’s fine. I have a deep sorrow today too. I am thinking of Miguel. Are you?” Rosa was a private woman who rarely confided her problems. Losing Miguel was still fresh and this was one of the first days she had returned to work. Angelika reached up to gently touch her knee.
“Maria Gonzales called me this morning and told me that someone burned down their garage last night. She thinks Pablo is at fault. She is worried about more trouble. For me. Someone could burn down my house.”
Angelika took her two hands which fluttered in the air like scared birds.
“Does the police know what is going on?”
“They will do nothing. They never have when our families go to war. The police want us to kill each other so that they don’t have to.” 
Angelika didn’t know what to say. This was a world she didn’t understand. 
“How long have your families been feuding?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, how long has this fighting been going on in Highland Park?”
“Since both of our husbands started bringing drugs from Mexico.” Rosa stopped abruptly. “I shouldn’t talk about it. I will get back to work.” 
She stood and climbed up the rest of the stairs. Angelika waited until she heard the vacuum going again. She pulled her phone from her pants pocket and sent a text to Stevie.
‘Rosa is worried the Gonzales gang is targeting her house. Do you know what is going on?’

                               Go To Chapter 13

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