August 14th 1940
They drove the six miles out to Plank road mostly in silence, after the incident at the Union hotel off of Center St, Sammy Smalls had decided to give the police his full cooperation, contingent upon the involvement of Clive Carew. They reached the turn at Plank Rd, and he pulled the Studebaker over to the shoulder and waited for Chet to arrive. The 39’ Chevy pulled up behind them and Chet Belleville got out and approached the side of the Studebaker, Clive Carew rolled down the window.
“Sammy says its about a half a mile past the point where the shootings took place, and we will have to walk about fifty yards in from the dirt road on foot to the edge of the lake.”
Chet Belleville nodded and walked back to his car, and they both drove to the point that Sammy Smalls described to them. Then fifty yards to the edge of the lake and then Clive Carew would be striping down to his swimming trunks. He entered the water at 10:30 AM and searched the entire area where Sammy Smalls swore that he’d seen the three cops toss the guns. After three hours of searching the range of shoreline he was coming up empty, he came up for air and to tell them he was going into the deeper water, the sun was high enough in the sky now he could almost see the sandy bottom of the lake. He stayed above the surface until he got past the one hundred and fifty five foot mark out from the shoreline. Chet Belleville and Sammy Smalls watched as he went under, his head popped up two minutes later and then he went back under. He did this five more times until he came up for the last time and swam for land. He walked back in and sat down on a tree stump. Chet Belleville and Sammy Smalls watched him curiously.
“About one hundred and fifty five maybe one hundred and sixty feet, directly in line with this stump. About twenty feet below the surface. Get your people out here Chet.” He started walking back to the car.
“You find the guns Clive?”
He stopped walking and looked at the ground and then turned back to Chet Belleville and Sammy Smalls.
“No. but I did find Jimmy Royals and Eddie Valentine. They‘re hanging around the bottom with cement around their feet. They’re just off to the right of a capsized row boat that sank to the bottom. The guns are here somewhere. Go on Chet, go back to town and get some of your boys, Sammy and me will hang around here until you come back. I‘m going to rest a few minutes and then I’m gonna try again, maybe out that way.”
He pointed to the right of where he made his last dive.
“They may have been in this area here but tossed the guns in three different directions, they are here somewhere. I‘m going to keep looking.”
Chet Belleville walked back to the Chevy and drove back to town. After fifteen minutes Clive Carew went back in the water. An hour and a half after that, Chet Belleville returned to the lake with other members of the Bay City Police department. When he rolled up he saw Clive Carew and Sammy Smalls leaning up against the Studebaker. Carew was now fully dressed, he told the members of the dive team where the bodies were and they went in the water to retrieve them if they could. Belleville was just about to walk down to the lake when Clive and Sammy called him back to the Studebaker. He Winked at Belleville.
“We’ve got both Jimmy Royals and Eddie Valentines bodies. And those two mutts?”
He opened the trunk of the Studebaker.
“Now we have their Choppers.”
Inside the trunk were three wet machine guns. Then it was Belleville’s turn to smile. Two more pieces of the puzzle fell into place, but it still didn’t tell him anything about where Annabelle Stanton was. Now he wasn’t even sure if she was dead. He took Sammy with him back to his place, driving the whole way in complete silence, a thousand thoughts going through his head at once. Then a thought occurred to him, he pulled over to the side of the road and stared straight ahead, Sammy Smalls gave him a curious look.
“So why do you think those two dirty coppers swiped Vinnies dope? The money? Yeah, that I get, but them two mongrels, they’re not peddlers. So why the dope?” He asked.
Sammy shrugged.
“I dunno Clive, didn’t hear nuthin about no plan on the street.” He said.
“If they were going to try and move the stuff they’d be needing a couple of patsy’s for the street. Too many loose ends to have to keep an eye on, they wouldn’t go that route, this mutt Odom, he’d take the shortcut.” Clive said.
“Vinnie?” Sammy asked.
Clive Carew turned to look at him.
“Yeah Vinnie. Shakedown Vinnie, make him buy his own dope back.”
He reached down and restarted the Studebaker and slowly put it into gear and pulled back onto Plank Road.
“Where we goin Clive?”
“The Coconut Grove.”
He made a beeline for Lakeside Drive, hung a left, and hit the gas. They were close to wrapping this up now, and Clive Carew had an idea. They were going to be needing to talk to Vinnie Spicoli, and rather than chase down him and his activities all over town, they were going to go right to the source. They were going to go chat up Vito Mancini. Six miles back to the city limits and they turned onto Pratt St and headed right for Laurel Blvd. Five minutes later they were pulling up into the back alley behind the Coconut Grove Nightclub, Vito‘ Mancini’s pearl white Cadillac was parked up the alley so he knew that Vito was there. The back door was seldom locked so he and Sammy entered through the kitchen and proceeded to Vito’s private office. There were two massive thugs standing in front of the door when they walked up.
“Could you please respectfully tell Vito that Clive Carew is here and would like to speak with him?”
A long cold stare ensued before the larger of the two nodded to the other one and he disappeared into Vito’s office. Two minutes later Vito Mancini appeared at the door, he was a little bit older looking than Clive Carew remembered. He was still a large man with broad shoulders, he was still fit, his hair was still slicked back and black as coal with a few gray streaks running through it. And he still had those dark penetrating eyes and that broad pearly white smile that gave a person a false sense of ease.
Vito had always tried to give people the impression that he was completely harmless, but Clive Carew had known him long enough to know that nothing could have been further from the truth.
The two old friends shook hands and Vito ushered he and Sammy Smalls inside of his office.
“Well how about this now? Clive Carew come to pay me a visit. It has been too long since you’ve stopped by.” he leaned forward opening a cigar box and inching it towards him, and he humbly accepted the offering.
“So. Mr. Carew. What can I possibly do for you?”
Both men lit their cigars, Vito exhaled and studied Clive through the smoke.
“Vito. I wish that I could say that this was a pleasure visit, But it isn’t. I would like to respectfully ask for your permission to speak about a professional matter with one of your employee’s.” Clive Said.
“Clive. My friend. For this you need my permission? And just who is this employee of mine that you wish to speak to?”
“Vinnie Spicoli.”
A look of concern fell over Vito Mancini’s face as he slowly leaned back in his chair. He carefully studied him and Sammy Smalls, his thick fingers slowly rapping on the top of the large walnut desk. His eyes slowly rose to meet Clive Carew’s.
“Again with Vinnie Spicoli. First the police come here this morning, through the front door no less, and now you come asking about Vinnie Spicoli.”
“The police?” Clive asked.
“This morning, I get here around eight I think, and already somebody has let the cops in, right through the front door no less, getting loud and abrasive, asking where’s Vinnie this, yadda, yadda, where’s Vinnie that. So everybody keeps their yaps shut and they leave. Now? you show up. Asking ‘where’s Vinnie?’ tell me Clive Carew, as a businessman, as a man period, what am supposed to think about this?”
“Vito, Vinnie, he’s in a really bad jam, we’re talkin a dead cop here, and seven other stiffs are on the hook too. I need to talk to him, find out what he knows about all of this.” he told him.
“Clive Carew.. You and me? we go back a long ways. There’s a lot of years between now and then. And I have always, and I do mean always, known you to be a honest honorable man. This much I know absolutely. So because of this, I know that if I ask you a question, that you of all people, will tell me the absolute truth. Clive? What has this bum been doing in my club?”
Clive Carew bent down to one knee looking Vito Mancini right in the eye, his hand slowly patting Vito’s own.
“Vito. My friend. Vinnie has been dealing heroin from out of YOUR club, those two mutt cops that came shaking your place down this morning? I think they stole some of his dope and so far they‘ve killed eight people over it that we know of, I talk to Vinnie he’s gonna tell me what I need to know to get these two mutts, Vinnie himself? I’ll leave that up to your discretion. But I need to know where he is first.”
Vito reached over the top of the desk and pulled a piece of paper over to him and leaned forward and began to write, not one, not two, but three different addresses down before folding and passing the paper to Clive Carew. He opened it and looked at Vito.
“Vinnie has a place up on Beacon Hill?” He asked.
“Yeah. Some dive called the Harbor View hotel, room eighty five.”
Now it was Sammy Smalls turn to interject into the conversation, he gave a anxious look to Vito who nodded his approval. He looked up at Clive Carew.
“Beacon Hill?”
They both nodded.
“That dive your talking about, a lot bums go there to get snowed, Beacon Hill is only six blocks from Chinatown.”
“Yeah?”
He now had both of their complete attention.
“So Vinnie has a place there? that’s a coincidence? I’ll bet ya two bits anytime of day that that’s where Vinny is bringing the dope in, right through that dive The Harbor View Hotel.”
“Yeah. Jimmy Royals had himself a snow bin up there too. Popular place.”
He extended his hand to Vito Mancini as he and Sammy Smalls both rose to leave. Vito warmly grabbed his hand and gave it a stern shake. Clive Carew turned for the door. Vito stopped him one last time.
“Hey Carew?”
He looked back at him.
“You know. When you are getting your information from this bum Vinnie? If he don’t flap his gums right away? If you gotta rough him up a bit so he’ll squeal? From me to you.. This?” he shrugged. “ I don’t mind.”
Clive Carew smiled. He and Sammy Smalls left the Coconut Grove nightclub and headed for Beacon Hill.
~Scratch A.B.T. copyright © 2009.~
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