“It’s easy for him. Everything matches.”
“I hear things about him. It’s like he’s Batman.”
“He’s not Batman. He’s just a guy who owns a security agency.”
“Why don’t you call Joseph for a ride?”
“He’s working.”
I gave my mom a kiss on the cheek and promised I’d call if I heard from Grandma. I grabbed my messenger bag and went outside to wait for Ranger.
Five minutes later he rolled to a stop in his Porsche 911 Turbo. I slid in and thought there was some truth to what my mother had said. He was Batman without the rubber suit.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“I’m worried about Grandma. I think she might be with the Dumpster killer.”
The Buick had been left in a small parking lot attached to a 7-Eleven on Broad Street. Ranger and I got out of the Porsche and went to the car. It was unlocked. Empty inside. No bodies. No blood. No Venetian blind cord or cryptic messages.
“Where do we go from here?” I asked Ranger.
“Do you have suspects?”
“Randy Berger just got out of jail, and I helped burn down his apartment, so I think he’s off the list. Hard to believe it could be Victor, but he did say he might have a lady friend in for pork chops.”
“Then let’s visit Victor.”
“He owns Victory Hardware, but I have no idea where he lives.”
Ranger made a phone call, and moments later he had an address.
“He lives over the store,” he said. “He owns the building.”
We were there in a matter of minutes. The store was still open, so we stopped in there first.
“Howdy,” Snoot said to me, looking Ranger over. “I see you brought Batman with you.”
“I’m looking for Victor.”
“He’s upstairs. He’s got a big night planned.”
“How do I get upstairs?” I asked Snoot.
“There’s a door on the street, next to the store. There’s a buzzer, but it don’t always work.”
We went outside and rang the buzzer. No response.
“Okay, Batman,” I said to Ranger. “Do your thing.”
Ranger took a slim jim from a pocket in his cargo pants and opened the door. We stepped inside and I yelled for Victor.
Victor appeared at the top of the stairs. “Did you come for pork chops?”
“No. I came to ask a question.”
“Well, come on up. The missus and me are having a cocktail.”
“You have a missus?”
“Don’t everybody got a missus?”
We climbed the stairs and stepped into Victor’s living room.
“This here’s the missus,” Victor said, arm around a woman who looked like Victor with a tan. She had a cigarette hanging out of her mouth and a martini in her hand.
“Was real nice of you to give Victor those chops,” she said to me. “We got plenty if you want to join us with your fella.”
“Thanks,” I said, “but we have plans. I just wanted to stop by and say hello.”
“Okay, then,” Victor said. “Stop around anytime.”
Ranger was smiling when we got to the sidewalk.
“What’s with the smile?” I asked him. “I don’t see you smile a lot.”
“I liked them.”
Here’s the thing about the men in my life. They’re smarter than I am, and they have a profound sense of humanity that I can only see from a distance. They work in the gutter, exposed to all the insanity and violence that human beings are capable of exhibiting, but they aren’t destroyed or overwhelmed by it. They hunt down men who have done terrible things, but they see this as an aberration and not as the norm. And they recognize good people when they see them.
“Any more suspects?” Ranger asked. “Do we need to look at the man who took your grandmother to the viewing?”
“Gordon Krutch. My mom didn’t think Grandma was with him, and I think he would need an accomplice, but he’s definitely on the suspects list.”
Ranger got the address and we drove across town to an apartment building by the DMV offices. We parked and took the elevator to the third floor. The building was very Practical Pig. Sturdy construction. Neatly maintained. Nothing fancy. We rang the bell to Krutch’s apartment, and Krutch answered with his left arm in a plaster cast.
“What happened?” I asked him.
“I was picking Myra Flekman up to take her to her doctor’s visit this morning, and I tripped over the curb and broke my arm.” He stared at my nose and grimaced. “What happened to you?”
“I fell down the stairs.” It was easier than explaining how I’d hit myself in the nose with a gun barrel. “I was looking for Grandma, but I guess you haven’t seen her today.”